Crossroads
For a moment she looked almost shocked, as if he’d reminded her of something she’d forgotten, and her eyes hardened. “Then they won’t sneer for long.” Her thumb rubbed over the back of his hand. “I’m proud of you for doing this, Derek. For standing up to this sort of thing.” As if he was doing it to make a stand. Derek lifted her hand and kissed it, enjoying the shocked murmurs from behind them. “I’m not looking to become the poster boy for the disenfranchised, baby. I just don’t give a shit anymore, as long as I’ve got you.”
The foyer was lined with more people standing along the walls. Among them was Nick’s father.
“They’re waiting in the conference room.” He stepped forward and lowered his voice. “Are you ready?” Derek wasn’t sure which of them the question was meant for, but he answered it with all the courage he could muster. “Absolutely.”
“Let’s go.”
Nick didn’t release his hand as the crowd parted for them, though the murmurs and questions grew so loud he could easily make out the astonished words. She held her head high, her cheeks red with what he knew had to be anger rather than embarrassment, and gripped his hand tighter.
The conference room turned out to be a large, open area with glass walls and ceiling, built more like a greenhouse or solarium than a boardroom. Instead of sitting around a table, the three remaining members of the Conclave waited in the middle of the room.
One man wore a sling on one arm.
Hoffman,
Derek thought, and that meant the darker man pacing the stone floor was Ochoa. Enrica Maglieri had a cell phone to one ear and a frown on her face. Trying to call Luciano, probably, and Derek knew how useless that would be. Yesterday morning, Luciano and Michelle had used the chaos of the impending challenge to apply for their marriage license. By now they’d be in front of an official. By the time the challenge was over…
Please let me be alive to buy them a stand mixer.
The dark man stopped and frowned a little in Derek’s direction. “You’re late, Peyton.”
“Everyone is,” Enrica interjected. “Did Luciano come with you?” John shook his head. “Luciano agreed that Michelle didn’t need to be alone during this trying time, so he stayed behind with her.”
Enrica’s expression tightened. “I see.”
I just bet you do.
It was better not to give her too much time to think about it. If the Conclave had time to consider Michelle unsupervised in New York City or, worse, supervised only by Enrica’s son, they might be distracted. That could spell disaster for Luciano and Michelle.
He knew one way to make sure everyone’s undivided attention stayed fixed on the upcoming challenge. Releasing Nick’s hand, he stepped forward, angling his body slightly in front of hers. “I’m here to challenge Noah Coleman on behalf of the Peyton family.”
Hoffman laughed, the sound disdainful enough to spike Derek’s temper, but a vicious snarl from Nick’s father silenced the mockery.
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A look of disbelief and then anger spread across Ochoa’s features. “It’s not allowed, Peyton. You can’t just bring someone in off the street because your daughter isn’t strong enough to win a challenge.” Alec had told him what to say, but he wasn’t prepared for the swell of possessive satisfaction that came with speaking the words. “The right of challenge is mine as Nicole Peyton’s mate.” No one laughed at that. The dark-haired man’s scowl melted into openmouthed shock, his expression mirroring the others.
John Peyton sighed. “I’m tired of pushing Nicole away by trying to make her life conform to what I want. She’s chosen her own path, her own mate…and I believe she’s chosen well.” Total silence.
Derek had the insane urge to laugh at the display of flustered consternation. He didn’t know what had shocked them more—the idea that Nicole had chosen him over one of their precious sons, or the fact that her father seemed to approve.
The seconds ticked by, and the silence became uncomfortable. Derek cleared his throat and repeated his challenge in a quiet, sure voice. “I’m here to challenge Noah Coleman on behalf of the Peyton family.” Enrica finally spoke. “We recognize your challenge. Whether Noah will fight is up to him.” They’d warned Derek of as much. He knew Nick was secretly hoping Noah Coleman would refuse the fight and cement his own disgrace. It was the only way of avoiding bloodshed, but Alec had assured him during his last phone call that it was a long shot at best. Refusing to fight would be seen as a sign of weakness. A sign of fear.
A man like Noah Coleman couldn’t let anyone think he was afraid of a wolf two years made. Pride would drive him to fight. Desperation would force him to fight hard.
It was too late to back down, even if Derek wanted to. “I understand.”
“Conrad.” She turned her head to the sandy-haired man. “Bring him out to hear his challenge.” No one moved. For a few seconds it seemed like no one
breathed
. Then the blond nodded sharply. As he strode from the room the other man spoke up, though his gaze stayed on Nick’s father, as if Derek was beneath his notice. “Does he understand what he’s doing?”
“He’s standing right here,” Nick said tightly. “Why don’t you ask him, Ochoa?” Cold black eyes fixed on Derek’s face. “You’re challenging the leader of the Southeast council. In the event of your victory, you’ll take your place as a member of that council…until someone challenges you for your place. And, believe me, the challenges will come. Daily.” Derek grinned at him, a deliberate baring of teeth that was just short of a challenge on its own, and said the kind of infuriating thing he imagined Alec might say in his place. “Yep, might have heard something of the sort.”
Ochoa snorted and cut a glance at John. “This one’s been spending too much time with Jacobson’s kid.”
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As if he’d had a choice. In spite of what he’d told Nick, in spite of swearing he wasn’t interested in changing their society, he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut. “That’s because Alec Jacobson spends his time cleaning up after your messes. That’s what he’s doing right now, you know. Taking responsibility for the lives your commandos ruined.”
Enrica paled. Ochoa just looked smug. “For your information, not everyone on this board approved that disastrous show of force.”
Disgust rose inside him, and he didn’t try to hide it. “Don’t pretend you give a damn about the people they hurt. It’s insulting.”
The man flushed. “You’ve got a smart mouth, kid.”
Nick’s father stepped between them. “Jorge, that’s enough.”
Dragging himself back under control was a formidable test of willpower, but Derek managed it. Nick caught his hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Derek tensed as the sandy-haired man returned, leading three hulking men who were obviously guards and the man he assumed to be Noah Coleman.
He was large. Not as large as John Peyton, but almost as tall as Derek himself and a little wider. He looked to be in his forties, which meant he was probably in his sixties.
Coleman stared at Derek for a moment and shook his head. “You’re just a damn kid.” Cold rage rose up inside him, narrowing his focus to Noah Coleman. “So?”
“So nothing,” he said flatly. “I hear your challenge, and I accept.” Pure exhilaration. Derek wanted to throw back his head and howl. The wolf paced anxiously, ready to break free, and Derek didn’t try to hide the rush of power.
As the challenger, it was his right to pick the time. No more waiting. No more wondering. With his humanity fading, it was a struggle to remember the words he’d been taught. “I don’t require any time for preparations. Choose the method.”
Coleman’s stare went hot and feral. “We face each other as wolves.” It had been too much to hope that Coleman would accept the fight in human form, and John had warned him not to expect it. “Where does this happen?”
John Peyton jerked his head toward the far wall of the room. “There’s a clearing about a quarter-mile back in the forest. The traditional grounds.”
“And we go there now?”
“We go there now.”
Nick’s hand went stiff in his. The others filed out of the room, but she hesitated. “Derek.” He waited until they were alone to turn to her. “Nicky?”
She folded her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, then whispered in his ear. “I love you.” www.samhainpublishing.com
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It firmed up his resolve, among other things. “You can love me all you want tonight. My instincts are a little riled.”
She licked his ear. “I’ll show you how we celebrate a victorious challenge.” Now all he had to do was win.
Nick had never been more terrified in her life. When Coleman had burst into Aaron’s cell with a gun in his hand, she hadn’t had time to be frightened. Now, she’d had days to imagine the ways this challenge could go wrong, and it scared the hell out of her.
She released Derek as they approached the clearing, and her father caught her arm and urged her to stop. “When he steps into the circle, Nicole, he has to go alone.” She knew that, but it didn’t lessen her need to stay beside him. “He can do this.” Derek turned to look back at her. “Damn right I can, sweetheart.” She nodded slowly, acutely aware of the appraising gazes. “Yes.” He was full of hungry, dangerous power and leashed strength that made her want to rub against him, to show him all the ways she could sate that need raging inside him.
He smiled, and she wondered if he knew what she was thinking. “Be right back.” Then he turned and walked into the circle.
Coleman had already shed his clothes and knelt on the ground. In a seemingly effortless moment, he shifted, gray fur covering his body. Derek stripped off his clothing as well, still poised on the edge of the circle as he dropped his shirt and his pants. The change came more slowly for him, but when it was over the dark wolf she remembered from their run together stood on the edge of the circle, tall and strong.
Coleman bristled, his tail twitching jerkily as he paced in the center of the circle. His lips lifted to bare his teeth, and he growled.
Derek pounced.
It was fast, so fast that he was on Coleman before Nick registered that he’d moved. Teeth flashed, and his snarl rose as he snapped his jaws shut where Coleman’s shoulder had been a heartbeat before.
Shocked murmurs rose from the gathered onlookers, but the gray wolf facing Derek stared him down with gleaming eyes. The attack had been aggressive, and it must have seemed carelessly so to Coleman.
Derek didn’t give him a chance to regain his composure. He attacked a second time, and a third, forcing Coleman to bend his body out of the way, to defend.
It was everything her father had told Derek.
Stay on the offensive. He’s a decent fighter who can
match your strength, but he tires quickly.
“Is this going to work?” she whispered softly.
Her dad’s hand came up to rest on her shoulder, the weight warm and reassuring. “He’s fast and he’s tough. Jacobson’s not a bad teacher.”
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“No, he isn’t.” Alec’s influence showed in every feint and snap. Derek’s fighting was quick, dirty…and effective. Over and over, he drove Coleman back, and once almost took him off his feet.
But it didn’t take long for his opponent to realize that Derek’s aggressiveness left him no room for a defense of his own, and every lunge left him open to retaliatory attacks. The next time Derek snapped at Coleman’s side, the older man let him, taking the minor bite as he turned into Derek’s body. A heartbeat later deadly sharp teeth sank into Derek’s shoulder.
He wrenched out of Coleman’s grip and recovered quickly, but his next attack was just a little more cautious, a little more restrained.
Nick stepped forward before she could stop herself. There was nothing she could do, but it didn’t help the fear. The truth of the situation, the gravity of it, trembled through her all over again.
Derek could die.
She could barely speak. “What happens if Coleman wins?”
Her father’s voice dropped to the barest whisper, too soft to be heard by anyone else gathered around the circle. “Coleman is stripped of his rank and sent home in disgrace. But if he’s willing and able to challenge his way back onto his council, he could take his old Conclave seat back.” Nick shuddered, though she barely felt the tremor. Coleman had everything to regain by winning. It would make him viciously determined to do so.
He bit Derek again, focusing his attack on the same spot as before. Derek threw his weight behind a lunge that toppled them both onto the ground as loud snarls rose above the quiet murmur of voices.
They broke apart and came to their feet, and Derek charged before Coleman caught his balance.
By now, the fight had evened out. They each had an idea of the other’s style, and it became a tense exchange of attacks and dodges, or glancing blows and bites.
Derek was young, tough, but his shoulder began to bleed freely when Coleman managed one more tearing bite. Nick clamped her own teeth on her tongue to keep from crying out, but she refused to look away.
The constant attacks on his wounded shoulder began to take their toll. Derek stumbled with his next lunge, but Coleman was beginning to tire. He didn’t move fast enough to take advantage of Derek’s unsteady footing, and when he
did
move forward, Derek whipped around and caught his opponent’s back leg in a bite hard enough to wrench an enraged snarl from Coleman’s throat.
They both went down in a jumble of flailing limbs and snapping jaws. It took a minute for Coleman to break away and stagger to his feet. Derek followed, favoring his injured shoulder as the wolves circled.
Behind Nick, her father tightened his fingers on her shoulders in silent reassurance. But the longer they fought, the harder it was to watch.
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She caught sight of Conrad Hoffman. He stood on the far edge of the circle, eyes narrowed and a slight frown marring his usually mild expression. When Derek snarled and attacked again, driving Coleman back, Hoffman’s frown deepened.