Faythe scowled. “This isnotone of those times. The object here is to avoidbloodshed.”
“And to keep Justus in the country. Alive,” I added. “So, what’s going to happen? We can’t let them vote to execute Justus, just to get back at Titus for rejecting their ‘deal.’”
“They won’t have the chance,” Faythe assured us. “We’re going to press for a redraw for his tribunal. But first…” She smiled. “If Ed and Robert Taylor want to help us get the Mississippi Valley Pride recognized, I say we letthem.”
* * *
“Ican’t believethey were willing to assemble soquickly!”
“Assemble.” Laughing, I wound my fingers through Justus’s in the shade of the apple tree. Beneath us, the bench swing swayed gently in the hot summer breeze. “Superheroes ‘assemble.’ Alphas justconvene.”
“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. But he wassmiling.
On the side of the tree opposite the swing stood three headstones, marking the graves of Faythe’s father, Greg, and her brothers, Ethan and Ryan. They’d all died during my first year in the territory, and Ethan was the only one I really remembered very well, five yearslater.
I still missed him. He would have likedJustus.
“Anyway, it’s not like they had any choice.” I shrugged. “Faythe said Robert Taylor was officially recognized as Alpha of the Southwest Pride this morning, and the Taylors are eager to put their plan into motion before your trial starts tomorrow.” I shrugged. “Naturally, Faythe volunteered to host thevote.”
Justus’s smile faded. “How mad do you think the Taylors will be when they figure out Titus isn’t going through with his promise? I mean, I know they’ll be pissed, but how badly could this bite him on the ass lateron?”
I shrugged. “Shifter politics are like low-key war. Politely worded insults and backdoor deals. Someone’s always pissed off. If the Taylors weren’t out to get Titus, someone else would be. And they took a risk, making him an offer. Theyhaveto know it might not payoff.”
“Who’s that?” Justus sat straighter as a car turned into the driveway and rolled beneath the archedgate.
I squinted to see through the windshield. “Jerold Pierce. That’s the last of them.” I twisted on the bench swing to face Justus, looking for any sign of fear. Any indication that he wished we’d gone with our original plan and were sipping drinks on a beach somewhere, rather than getting ready to face not just a tribunal, but the entire council, ten Alphas strong. Eleven, counting both Faythe and Marc. “You ready forthis?”
“Nope. Let’s go.” Justus stood and tugged me up by onehand.
When we got to the house, we found Faythe’s office crowded with Alphas, most sipping from short glasses of amber liquid, though it was hardly four p.m. The atmosphere was tense, and the clusters they’d gathered in clearly illustrated their alliances, both fledgling and long-standing.
Faythe sat behind her desk, with Marc standing at her side. Gathered around them were Rick Wade—the current council chair—Isaac Wade, his son, and Vic’s father, Bert DiCarlo.
On the opposite end of the room, in what I privately thought of as the anti-stray corner, Milo Mitchell, Nick Davidson, and Wes Gardner stood just feet from the liquor cart. Ed Taylor and his brother Robert, representing the Southwest territory for the first time, had staked their claim on the space near the far wall, where they were deep in whispered conversation with TitusAlexander.
Surely that wouldn’t be happening unless they still believed he was in theircorner.
Justus and I slipped into the room as quietly as we could and took seats on one of the couches, where we tried to eavesdrop on all three groups at once. But a couple of minutes later, when Karen Sanders escorted Jerold Pierce into the office, Faythe stood behind her desk. “Gentlemen, it’s pretty crowded in here. Why don’t we hold this meeting in the dining room? I believe my mother has brewed coffee in the kitchen. You’re all welcome to grab a cup on theway.”
I couldn’t resist a small smile. In any other territory, the Alpha’s wife would have served coffee, and possibly pastries. But despite the fact that Karen actually liked showing off her baking skills and loading trays full of beautifully presented mugs, Faythe thought it sent the wrong message for her to serve the Alphas. Men capable of running entire territories, she reasoned, were just as capable of getting their owndrinks.
A few of the older Alphas grumbled, but most of them were already holding glasses, so they moved as one tense procession straight to the dining room, where Rick Wade took the seat at the head of the table, with Bert Di Carlo on his right and Faythe on hisleft.
Ed Taylor took the seat at the opposite end, and I could tell from his smug grin that he had no idea that Wade or his allies knew all about the coup he wasplanning.
Marc sat on Faythe’s left, with Titus on his other side. But when Justus and I took up positions behind them, against the dining room wall, Robert Taylor turned to us with a stern expression. “Our first order of business doesn’t concern the two ofyou.”
I glanced at Faythe, and she nodded toward the hallway. Which was when I realized that her choice of venue had been very deliberate. The office was virtually soundproof with the door closed, but the dining room was open to the central hallway on one side with an arched doorway, and to the kitchen with a smaller doorway on the other side. Justus and I would be able to hear everything that was said from nearly any room in thehouse.
In the kitchen, we poured cups of coffee and sat at the island, where I realized that if I moved my bar stoolslightlyto the left, I could see most of the dining room table through the archeddoorway.
Rick Wade stood at the head of the table. “First of all, let me thank you all for agreeing to meet on such short notice. And thanks, of course, to Faythe and Marc, for hosting our meeting. I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say how very sorry we are for the Southwest Territory’s loss. Paul Blackwell was an institution, and in some parts, practically a legend. He held the record for the longest serving Alpha, and though we didn’t always agree on the issues, I believe with all my heart that he always voted hisconscience.”
Robert Taylor—I could only see him in profile—nodded in recognition. “Thank you for saying so, Rick. I will pass on your condolences to my wife and the rest of ourfamily.”
“Thank you.” Wade cleared his throat. “That said, I see no need for debate on the issue at hand today. We’ve been discussing the subject for months, and I suspect we all know where we stand on the issue of whether or not to formally recognize the Mississippi Valley Pride with Titus Alexander as its Alpha.” He frowned. “Unless Robert would like to take some time to solicit opinions, question Titus, or consider the proposal, since he’s new on thecouncil?”
“No, thank you, Rick,” Robert Taylor said. “I believe I’m all caughtup.”
