I twisted the knob and pushed the door open, expecting to find the dryer standing open with a sweet little face resting on top of a load ofclothes.
Instead I found one of the guys going through the pockets of hispants.
He turned, and I found myself staring into the gorgeous gray eyes of JustusAlexander.
Two
Justus
They’re going to convict.
Eavesdropping probably wasn’t what Victor Di Carlo had in mind when he’d told me to practice using my heightened shifter senses—just one of the challenges for any newly-infected stray. And, of course, I hadn’t expected to overhear my own fate when I’d loitered at the top of the staircase that afternoon, frozen in place by the whispered mention of my ownname.
We don’t have thevotes.
Though he’d said them hours ago, Vic’s words still echoed in my mind with the impact of a judge’s gavel. Not that there would be a judge at my trial. Or a jury. There would only be a tribunal made up of three Alphas chosen by the venerable short straw method to determine whether I would be found innocent orguilty.
Whether I would live ordie.
With that truth weighing on me, I knelt in the tiny second-floor laundry room of the guest house and set my backpack in the bottom of an empty laundry basket, then I piled my dirty clothes on top ofit.
Until tonight, I’d been naive enough to assume I’d at least get to testify before the votes were cast, but through the shifter grapevine—a backchannel of high-level conversations overheard by and recounted to enforcers across the country—I’d learned that the Alphas had already made their decision, though a date for the trial had yet to be officiallyset.
I was screwed. As good asdead.
Joining the South-Central Territory was supposed to guarantee me a fair trial, rather than the simple order of execution most strays would have gotten, but it did not guarantee me a favorable verdict. Or even, evidently, the chance to explain my actions before the votes werecounted.
The “civilization” of the US territories had turned out to be a facade—a smiling mask worn over the snarling muzzle of a beast hell-bent on devouring me for the sin of being born human. Well, for that, and for the crimes I’d been manipulated into committing as a terrified, disoriented, newly infectedstray.
But I wouldnotstick around to bedevoured.
I stood with my laundry basket and took several deep breaths, because if I went downstairs in a panic, the guys would know something was wrong. They’d hear my racing pulse without even consciously listening for it. They’d smell fear in the scent of mysweat.
Vic had taken me under his wing over the past four months, but all I’d really learned was how to flee the ranch, right under his nose. Guilt hovered at the edge of my mind at the thought of betraying him, but I shoved it back. I’d rather live with smudged honor than die with my integrityintact.
My pulse under control, I headeddownstairs.
“Kaci’s back.” Brian Taylor paused his video game, freezing the car race on the sixty-four-inch screen, and stared out the front window of the guesthouse.
I stopped on the lower landing and listened, my laundry basket clasped under one arm. After a second of concentration, I heard what he’d detected: the soft rumble of an engine all the way at the front of theproperty.
“You want me to check it out?” Brian asked, and Vic looked up from his seat at the bar, where he was rapidly demolishing a twelve-inch meatball sub and an entire party-sized bag ofDoritos.
“I got it.” I dropped my laundry by the door. It would be mydistinctpleasure to run off Kaci’s latest boyfriend. She’d been just as good to me as the guys had, and chasing off the human loser would give me a chance to say goodbye—even if she didn’t know that’s what I was doing. “They’re probably in thebarn?”
Vic glanced at his cell as it began to vibrate on the counter. “Don’t worry about it. Marc says he’s onit.”
“Awesome.” Brian went back to his game, and his on-screen car leapt into motion again, barreling over a bridge onto a highway below, where he swerved to avoid a firetruck screeching as its red lightsflashed.
“I don’t get it.” The only duty any of the enforcers ever seemed to shirk was making sure Kaci’s dates left the property in a timely fashion. “What’s so hard about scaring off one humanasshole?”
“The date’s not the problem.” Brian leaned to the right as he turned his car, as if he were actually in the vehicle he was controlling. “Kaci creeps meout.”
“Taylor,” Vic warned, dropping his sandwich onto itswrapper.
I frowned at Brian. “What am I not getting?” According to my brother, tabbies were rare and coveted. They were supposed to have their pick of any tomcat in the country, and most enforcers were desperate to catch their attention. Which was why the council had lost its collective shit when Robyn had decided she’d rather live with Titus in the untamed free zone than even consider any of the “natural-born” tomcats in the USterritories.
Titus had told me to stay away from Kaci for exactly that reason—because the council wouldnotbe happy if another of their few eligible women fell for a stray. Especially, a stray charged with two capitaloffenses.
