He growled softly in reproach. “You’re missing the point. She’s not a stray, and I’m basing that on nothing more than the fact that she doesn’t smell like a stray. If she did we’d all have noticed immediately.”
“She doesn’t smell like a male stray, but maybe she does smell like a female stray and we don’t know because we’ve never smelled one.”
He huffed in exasperation. “We’ve smelled female cats, and we’ve smelled strays. It’s not too hard to imagine what a combination would smell like. She’s not a stray, which means she had to come from somewhere. From some Pride. We need more information from her.” Having obviously come to a decision, he stopped pacing to face me. “You’ll have to ask her some more questions.”
Ya think? I rolled my eyes. He’d interrupted us and practically dragged me from the room by my hair, only to tell me to go back and do more of what I’d been doing in the first place. Lovely.
“Don’t start, Faythe. This is different. Now you’ll be going in with permission and an approved agenda, not disobeying a direct order in the middle of the night.”
Technically, it was five-thirty in the morning…
I ripped the last of the leaf in half and let the pieces flutter to the ground. “You think Malone will go for it?”
He hesitated, obviously thinking unpleasant thoughts. “After he’s had his say and you’ve taken whatever’s coming to you, I don’t see that he’ll have much of a choice. He won’t be able to get her to talk.” Without another word, my father headed for the lodge, his steps firm and heavy.
As I followed, trying to catch up without actually running, one last whispered sentenced floated back to me on the chilly, early-morning breeze. “By damn, they can’t call her useless now.”
I smiled in spite of myself, and in spite of the tribunal, every member of which no doubt sat waiting for me inside.
Twenty minutes later, I sat on the living-room couch trying not to nod off on Dr. Carver’s shoulder. Lucas was perched in the armchair on our right, much too stiff and nervous to fall asleep, and Marc sat across the coffee table from him, hands clenched around the arms of the chair nearest the front door. No one spoke. We looked like children lined up outside the principal’s office, waiting to be called in. And essentially, that’s what we were doing.
My father had locked himself in the dining room with the other Alphas to brief them on what we’d done. Try as I might to overhear their meeting, I could only catch the briefest of urgent whispers. They had Beethoven cranked on the stereo again, probably trying to make me sweat.
It was working.
It was nearly 8:00 a.m., and though I was on my second cup of coffee in under five minutes, no one had even started breakfast, because there was no one around to cook. My father and a couple of the other Alphas had called in extra backup to help with the search, but none of the flights would land until evening, so Jace and Michael were about to head into the woods. One of the other enforcer pairs had had to take a double shift because Marc and Lucas were in trouble along with me and Dr. Carver.
Everyone who’d searched until dawn was now sleeping.
So after another night without finding either the strays or the missing human hikers, we were understaffed again, and now walking on eggshells.
Still straining to hear something useful from the dining room, I nearly jumped out of my skin when a sudden pop sounded from the kitchen, followed by a soft fizzing sound—someone opening a can of soda. An instant later Jace stepped into the doorway with a Coke in one hand. “Anyone else thirsty?” He smiled at us hopefully.
My eyes met Jace’s, and irritation fueled the fire of nerves smoldering deep inside me.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Jace’s eyes pleaded with me as the can hovered in front of his mouth. “Your dad was already up when I got to the cabin, and I couldn’t very well lie to him, could I?”
“Of course not.” I sighed. It wasn’t Jace’s fault. We’d known the Alphas would find out eventually. “I’m not mad. I’m just…nervous.” I’d told my dad I was ready to accept the consequences of my actions. But that didn’t mean I was looking forward to it.
“Look, you were actually doing them a favor, and no one got hurt.” He gestured with the can as he spoke. “They’ll bluster for a while, then the whole thing will blow over. Right?” Leaning against the door frame, Jace took a long swallow of his soda, and when no one answered, a tight, cautious smile stole over his face. “I mean, what are they going to do? Execute you twice?”
“That’s not fun—” I started. But then Marc’s fist slammed into the coffee table, and my last syllable was lost beneath the splinter of wood as it broke in two.
“You think this is a joke?” He stood, kicking one-half of the table out of his way. “Because I can guarantee you the Alphas are taking it seriously.” He turned from Jace to glare at me, but I saw the truth in his eyes. He wasn’t mad at either of us. Not really. He was mad at himself. “I should never have let you go in there.” He pulled his foot back and kicked the other half of the coffee table, and I flinched when it smashed into the wall near the door.
Michael appeared from the bathroom, looking surprisingly comfortable in jeans, hiking boots, and a thick flannel over-shirt rather than his usual lawyerly attire. He took one look at Marc, then pulled Jace behind him out the door, on the way to the forest.
When they were gone, Lucas stood calmly and picked up one half of the coffee table. Marc took the other piece and followed him out the front door. Their footsteps disappeared around the corner of the lodge, and I assumed they were taking the broken table out back to join the chair he’d broken the day before.
Marc was hard on furniture.
“He’ll be okay,” Dr. Carver said, and I glanced up to find him watching me. “The bottom line is that you got through to her when no one else could have, and they’ll have to see that.”
“I hope so.” But I wasn’t holding my breath. Marc was right. The Alphas obviously didn’t think the ends justified my means.
A door creaked open at the back of the lodge, and the classical music ended in midnote. “—bring them in,” Uncle Rick said, and a moment later he appeared in the hall, his face a mask of anger and frustration. He stopped in the middle of the living-room floor, the tension in his expression giving way to momentary confusion. “Where are Marc and Lucas?” He paused, eyeing the newly open floor space. “And the coffee table?”
“Collateral damage.” Marc stepped into the living room from the front porch and Lucas came in behind him.
“I see.” But my uncle didn’t look like he saw.
Marc shrugged and met his gaze unflinchingly. “So…what’s going on?”
“I’m not entirely sure.” Uncle Rick sighed, and rubbed his forehead, then met my eyes. “Your dad and I tried to get this handled on an individual-Pride basis, so we could each discipline our own. But Malone didn’t go for it. He made a conference call to the rest of the council and got a simple majority vote of six to four.” With that, my uncle sank into the chair his son had just vacated. He looked angry, frustrated, and very, very tired.
I knew just how he felt.
“Vote to do what?” Lucas settled wearily onto the couch cushion on my right, closest to his father.
“To turn jurisdiction over to the Territorial Council.”
“Jurisdiction for what?” I asked, my voice soft with dread.
Uncle Rick met my gaze with eyes the same crystalline blue as my mother’s. “You’re being charged with insubordination.”
Beneath his reddish freckles, Lucas’s face went pale with alarm, but all I could work up was mild irritation.
Insubordination was a relatively minor offense—what amounted to a misdemeanor. Under normal circumstances, a guilty verdict would call for the offending enforcer’s immediate dismissal, but it was hard for me to work up much fear over that, considering I was already suspended. And that I was facing the fucking death penalty.
“Insubordination, huh? Is th
at it?” I asked, and my uncle nodded. “Okaaay, but doesn’t that seem kind of pointless, in view of the other charges against me?”
He nodded again. “I don’t understand what they’re going for. Why bother to slap your wrist when they’re planning to break your neck with the next blow?”
My heart dropped into my stomach. I knew what the death penalty meant, of course, but hearing it stated so bluntly wasn’t exactly pleasant. I liked my neck intact.
Lucas took my hand in his, and I looked up to find everyone watching me.
“Wait.” A brief wave of calm flowed over me as a nugget of werecat political trivia clicked into place in my head. “There aren’t enough of you here for that. Three Alphas are enough for a tribunal, but you need at least four to officially convene the council.” Ha! Take that, Malone!
But Uncle Rick didn’t look anywhere near as pleased as he should have been by my near-perfect recall of Territorial Council policy. Though Marc looked pretty damn impressed.
“The council ruled that your insubordination—”
“Alleged insubordination,” I insisted, though I knew damn well I was guilty.
“Wrong.” Lucas forced a smile. “Michael says that here, you’re guilty until proven innocent.”
“Whatever.” I ignored him, exercising my right to scowl in protest.
“Anyway,” Uncle Rick continued as all eyes refocused on him. “During the conference call, the council ruled that this is a separate issue from the hearing already in progress. They agreed that your father can avoid bias on such a minor indiscretion.”
Shit. With Daddy, they had enough Alphas to officially call the Territorial Council into session. Screw ’em! What were they going to do? Revoke my suspension in favor of dismissal? So what? As much as I was starting to like my job, I liked my life better.
“So, is that it? One more charge leveled against me?” As if that were no big deal. Maybe if I acted like I didn’t care, they’d believe me. Maybe I would, too.
Uncle Rick shook his head, eyeing me intently to underline the importance of what he was about to say. “It’s not just you, Faythe. We’re charging you all.”
Eighteen
“What?” My hand went cold in Lucas’s as his broke into an instant sweat. “No. They can’t.” I leaned forward on the old, dingy couch, staring at my uncle in search of some sign that I’d heard him wrong. I’d known I would get in trouble, and Marc and Dr. Carver would probably get yelled at, too, especially since I’d accidentally ratted the doc out. But I’d hoped they’d rant and rave, then let my father handle the situation privately. And I’d had no idea they’d drag Lucas into the fray, just because he was there. “You cannot hold them responsible for what I did.”
My uncle’s normally warm blue eyes went as cold as glacial ice, and he stood, physically distancing himself from me. “Yes. We can. You all broke the rules, and you’re all going to pay the price, whatever that turns out to be.”
Then his gaze singled me out, his lips drawn into a tight, straight line. I’d seen that very expression on my mother’s face hundreds of times, and now I knew where she got it. “Do not mistake my sympathy for an inclination to bend the law for you every time you step out of line. I believe you killed Andrew in self-defense, so I’m doing my best to keep the hearing fair. But you intentionally disobeyed a direct order this time. So you keep that in mind when you open your mouth in there.”
Well, crap. He had me there.
Ten minutes later, I was officially charged with insubordination, once again seated at the end of the long dining-room table, as revoltingly cheerful morning sunlight poured through the windows along the east wall.
I’m starting to really hate this room.
Dr. Carver, Marc and Lucas sat in chairs against the wall, but this time no one sat in the chair on my right. They’d given Michael the option to act as my adviser again, but he’d joined the search efforts instead, refusing to stand by me on matters of principle. Or, as he put it, I was a damn fool to pull such a stunt, and he wasn’t going to interfere with the heavy hand of justice. Or some such shit.
The point was that he thought I deserved whatever token punishment they gave me—and I sincerely hoped he was right about the “token” part—so he and Jace scoured the mountainside with the other enforcer teams while I spent most of the next hour trying to convince the council that I meant no insult to their authority by visiting the tabby against orders. I was simply trying to help meet her immediate needs without wasting time with a bunch of pointless formalities.
That line of reasoning might have worked well for me if not for the fact that the council—indeed, the very werecat political model—was founded on that same bunch of pointless formalities.
Since my father had already had his say, he seemed content to sit back and determine which way the council’s collective wind was blowing before taking an official position. Unfortunately that wind was all blowing in one direction.
Though my uncle was more moderate in his censure than were Malone and Blackwell, he was disinclined to go easy on any of us in his official statement, for fear of being seen as soft on his own son and niece, and thus less than impartial. Also, he was truly and deeply pissed at having his authority disregarded, even if I had ultimately helped both Kaci and the council.
And the real bitch was that this time Malone didn’t have to say a word. He just sat back and grinned smugly while my uncle gave me a public dressing-down. The bastard even spoke up in my defense at one point, interrupting Uncle Rick to insist I was “probably doing what I thought was right at the time.” Which effectively implied that I had no idea what “right” really was.
Malone’s little show of support was no doubt also intended to combat rumors that he was unnecessarily harsh in matters concerning me. The manipulative prick.
After each of the Alphas had his say, I got a chance to defend myself. My father warned me to be good with his eyes as I stood to address the panel. “Look,” I started, but judging from his deep scowl, that wasn’t the proper way to address the Territorial Council. So I started over.
“You guys are probably every bit as tired of seeing me here as I am of being here, so I’m just going to lay it all out for you. The truth.” I gave them all a moment to object, and when no one did, I continued.
“Yes, I disobeyed a direct order in going in to see the tabby alone. So I guess technically, I am guilty of insubordination. But this whole thing?” I spread my arms to take in the entire room and the proceedings therein. “This is why I didn’t ask first—because she wouldn’t have calmed down enough to Shift in front of a roomful of enforcers, so we would have wound up right here, arguing about it for hours while that poor little girl sat up there stuck in cat form and scared to death. She’s weak, confused and half-starved, and every single moment we leave her like that, we’re guilty of neglect. She’s a child. She doesn’t know anything about your rules and forums. She doesn’t know a thing about us, period, and I was trying to help her. To help you, by getting her to talk. Which none of you could have done, if I may point out.”
But apparently I was not supposed to point that out. Who knew?
My father chose that moment to stand, and I couldn’t help but think he’d timed his statement carefully, so I would have my say before he pronounced me guilty for the same reason Malone had come to my defense—to show that he could be fair too.
“Faythe, your motives and even your results are immaterial here. What matters is that you disobeyed a direct order.” He paused to look at each of his fellow Alphas. “Now, I’m sure everyone here understands the value of the work you’ve done with Kaci Dillon. But surely you acknowledge that your action must have a consequence?”
Aw, crap. He was going to make me say it.
“Yes, of course.” I sighed, and my shoulders sagged in defeat. In for a penny, in for a pound, Faythe. “I knew that when I went in, but I did it anyway because I believed then—and now—that the result would be worth whatever penalty you throw at
me. Not going in would have been taking the coward’s way out. Staying in the hall because I was scared—of you guys or of her, it makes no difference—would have been shirking what I consider my moral duty. Knowing the right thing to do is easy. Doing it when you know there will be consequences is not. You taught me that.”
My father nodded, and I thought I detected a little flush in his cheeks, though that might have been wishful thinking on my part. Either way, my uncle looked a little less furious than he had moments earlier.
I met each council member’s eyes for just a moment, silently acknowledging their authority even as I asked them to acknowledge my good intentions. “I did what I had to do. Now you have to do the same.”
With that, I took my seat, my heart pounding in my throat, my palms sweaty enough to leave damp streaks on the polished surface of the dining-room table.
“Personally,” Paul Blackwell said, and I narrowed my gaze on him, surprised to hear the old fart speak up, “I see no reason to sentence her now, considering that her future is…uncertain.”
That didn’t sound good.
“I agree.” This from Malone, who’d looked less than pleased by one of my better attempts to talk my way out of trouble. Tough room. “I move that we hand down her sentences all at once, when the hearing is over.”
“No.” My father leaned back in his chair. “I have a right to my say in this procedure, but am not a part of the tribunal.”
“Fine.” Malone rested his elbows on the table. He watched me, though his remark was obviously directed at my father. “We’ll decide this one separately, but announce them all three together.”
A small-but-vocal part of me wanted to point out that I hadn’t actually been found guilty of murder yet, so there was no sentence to be handed out on that one. But since my mouth had actually talked me out of trouble this time—at least for the time being—I saw no reason to press my luck.
Unfortunately, the tribunal’s ire wasn’t directed solely at me. When my part was done, I sat in a chair against the wall, at the end of the line of toms waiting to face the music.