“Not Carl,” Alan said, his voice tight with worry. “Nick. Nick has to stop and accept his banishment. He has to.”
There was something in Alan’s voice that made her turn slightly. Just enough to see the man’s face. “And if he doesn’t?”
“Carl will have to kill him.”
Oh, shit. But Alan wasn’t done.
“The last thing Carl needs is another soul on his conscience. He’s already killed three ferals. This won’t help him sleep at night.”
Oh, hell. That suggested all sorts of things, none of which were good. She looked to the combatants. Nick had regained his senses and looked around, his gaze landing unerringly on his children. Both boys shrank away from him until they stood protectively in front of their mother. Pam set an arm on each child.
“You shoulda fixed the platform, Nick. You were poisoning the land.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You shoulda done what you were told.” Her voice quavered as she spoke, but there was a firm set to her jaw that Becca respected.
That was it for Nick. Instead of slinking away like he should, he lunged forward on a roar. But he didn’t go at Carl. Instead, he went for Pam and his two sons. Becca didn’t even see the move coming. One second he was leaning against the oak as he steadied himself, the next he was mid-leap right at his own family. Pam’s face registered shock—eyes wide, mouth open—but there was no time for more.
And then Carl landed on Nick from the side, rolling the two of them away until they flattened into the hedge. And this time, the change was in Carl. Before he’d been grappling with Nick, defending himself but keeping the fight contained in the yard—away from the onlookers. Now he was all fight and blood.
No restraint as he clawed at Nick. The first swipe took out a huge swatch of Nick’s thigh. Blood spurted over everything, but the older grizzly didn’t stop. He rounded on Carl, snapping his jaws, barely missing Carl’s neck.
So Carl clawed across Nick’s chest, making deep furrows that welled bright red.
“Run,” growled Alan. And the one word was echoed all around.
Nick didn’t listen. He kept fighting, coming at Carl again and again. But it was a hopeless battle. His leg was hobbled, and he was losing blood.
So Carl didn’t waste any time.
Two more blows ended it. One thunked against Nick’s head. The other sliced straight across the grizzly’s throat.
Nick fell, crumpling in agonizingly slow moments. He twitched on the ground, blood pouring like a thick, dark river.
Becca stared, waiting for the moment that he reverted to human form. That’s what happened in the movies, right? Werewolf turns back into a naked dead man while the credits roll? But this wasn’t a movie and Nick didn’t shift back. He remained a bear, lying dead at Carl’s feet.
Carl was the one who shifted, shrinking back into himself until he was a man covered in blood who turned to the boys now clutched in their mother’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” Carl said, his voice sounding gravelly. “I tried to find a different answer. I didn’t want to kill him.”
Pam clutched her children tight, and this time her voice rang clear and strong. “And that’s why you’re a terrible alpha,” she said. “You shoulda killed him months ago and saved us all this trouble.”
Carl flinched as if struck, then stomped forward, his eyes blazing and his hands poised to become claws. He didn’t shift, but if ever a man could look like a bear, Carl did.
“I would have done this years ago, but you begged me on your knees not to.” Then he looked around at everyone, pinning every onlooker. “Is that what you want? A bloody, violent tyrant in charge? Yes, my uncle would have killed him months ago, but he wouldn’t have stopped there. He would have snapped your boys’ necks, too, raped you until he tired of it, and then taken your property as his own.” He loomed over Pam. “Is that what you want?”
“N-no, Mr. Max,” she stammered. The boys just flinched and kept their eyes down in submission. Carl rolled back slightly on his heels, but he kept up the glare until Pam spoke again. “Th-thank you for your help, Mr. Max. I’m sorry if we caused you any trouble.”
Carl took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, he seemed to settle further back into himself, though Becca could see the struggle in him. She saw his muscles ripple, the hump between his shoulder blades thickening and retreating, then thickening again. He was fighting to keep himself under control, and she held her breath, waiting to see if he would manage it. Eventually, he blew out a hard breath. “You have until Friday to get that platform fixed.”
“Yes, Mr. Max.”
“And you’ll pay Alan for all the legal work he did on your behalf. Every single dime, if it takes you ten years.”
Pam was bobbing her head like a puppet. “Yes, Mr. Max.”
Then Carl looked down at the terrified boys. “And you two will come to camp after school every day. Every single day I want you doing your homework right there.” He pointed across the circle to the cafeteria. “You’re going to get the grades I expect out of every Gladwin member. If you want, we’ll help you with college, but you have to prove to me that you’re smarter than your father. Is that clear?”
Both boys scrambled to answer. “Yes, Mr. Max.”
Carl looked at Mark, who had been watching with almost casual disinterest from the side of his truck. “Can you see that they get home?”
