Wild Card

by Rachel Vincent

  “She tried to convince you to come home?”

  “Of course. But she wasn’t unreasonable about it.” Evidently her definition of “adult” was closer to mine than to the council’s.

  “What’d she say?”

  “She told me who’s on the tribunal.”

  Justus shifted into reverse and backed out of the parking space.

  “Don’t you want to know?” I opened the paper sack on my lap and pulled out a taco. Crispy shell with grilled chicken.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Justus insisted as he turned onto the road. “Because I’m not going. Can you get me directions?”

  I set the bag on the center console and the taco on my lap, then started the GPS app on my phone. “What if I could get you the vote you need?”

  He pulled us to a stop at a red light and turned to me, skepticism deepening the lines of his frown. “Can you?”

  “Maybe. Hopefully.” I picked up my taco. “I’m willing to try.”

  The light turned green and I took a bite.

  “Sure. Give it a shot.” We rolled through the intersection and Justus moved into the left-hand lane. “If you can get me a vote before we get to Denver, I guess I don’t have to get on the plane.” He shrugged. “What do I have to lose, right?”

  “Yeah. Taco?”

  “I can’t eat that while I drive, but there’s a burrito at the bottom,” he said. I dug for it, then tore off the top half of the wrapper and handed it to him. “So, who’s on the tribunal? What’s the plan?”

  “Well, it’s a random draw, but you drew a pretty even hand. Which makes sense, considering that the council is pretty evenly split on the subject of strays. Paul Blackwell will never vote in your favor. He’ll go to his grave shouting that strays have no place in the world. In fact, many of us have been waiting for that very event for years, but that old man will never die. Marc says it’s because God doesn’t want him back.”

  He took a bite of his burrito and chewed for a minute. “I think I’ve heard Titus mention him.”

  “You probably have. He’s one of the firm no-votes on accepting the Mississippi Valley Pride, which means he’s kind of your family’s arch nemesis. Also, he’s the Alpha of the Southwest Pride, which makes him Jared’s boss. And his grandfather. We’re trespassing in his territory right now.”

  “Okay.” Justus said around a bite of burrito. “That’s unfortunate. Who else do we have?”

  “Umberto Di Carlo. Bert.”

  “I know that name,” Justus said as he veered left onto the highway. “Why do I know that name?”

  “Bert was Robyn Sheffield’s acting Alpha. She was sent to his house in Atlanta for rehabilitation/training/house arrest, after the plea bargain she made with the council. For the murders she committed.”

  “Damn.” He took another bite of his burrito. “I’m starting to see why they think strays are savage murderers. Our track record is not awesome.”

  “Bullshit. Turning into a werecat when you have no idea such a thing is possible would traumatize anyone. Drew knew that. That’s the only reason he was able to manipulate you. That’s the reason he infected you. He was counting on the fact that you wouldn’t be able to control your instincts or rein in your emotions without training. You were right—he turned you into a weapon and aimed you at his enemies.”

  “Sounds like the council’s right: strays are the problem. They’re just wrong about which strays.”

  “No,” I insisted. “Plenty of natural-born cats have committed crimes. Manx. Jace. Faythe. A couple of Jace’s brothers, and even more of his late stepfather’s enforcers. Me. I mean, really, we’re kind of a violent bunch. The council is trying to rein that in—I’ll give them credit for that—but it doesn’t do any good for them to insist that the problem lies only with the stray population. That’s like taking a sledgehammer to your own glass house.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. But does that mean Di Carlo is another no-vote? Because Robyn chose my brother over his Pride?”

  “Nope, he’s on your side. Thanks to Robyn. He was responsible for her training. He’s a good guy, and I suspect he saw how hard it was for her to master concepts that cats who grew up in Shifter society see from before they’re even old enough to understand what they are. He knows the struggle is real. And he knows exactly what it will take to overcome that. He’s a very good ally to have.” I glanced at him with a grin as I took another bite of my taco. “He’s also Vic’s dad.”

  “Damn. Now I feel really bad about breaking Vic’s wrist.”

  I shrugged. “He’ll probably tag you back next time he gets a chance, but the risk comes with the job. He knows that. I can’t even count how many broken bones Dr. Carver has had to come set at the ranch. Though Karen Sanders makes a pretty good field medic, in a pinch.”

  “She also makes a very good shepherd’s pie.”

  “Among other things. So, the last vote comes from Ed Taylor.” I turned the air conditioning down and aimed my vent at Justus. “The good news is that he’s open to acknowledging your brother’s Pride. At least, he says he is. Though Faythe seems to think that could just be political pandering.”

  “And the bad news is that he’s ready to hang me up by my toenails and pluck out my eyes with a seafood fork?”

  “That’s a little more graphic than any sentence currently being considered, but yes. That’s basically it.”

  “And do we know why, exactly?” Justus asked around the last of his burrito.

  “I can venture a good guess, but it’s kind of complicated. Ed Taylor is Brian’s dad. Brian works for Faythe and Marc, and he was engaged to Abby Wade for several years. For a while, that led to a strong three-way alliance between Ed Taylor’s Midwest Pride, Rick Wade’s East Coast Pride, and our South-Central Pride. But then Abby dumped Brian for Jace, who—along with Faythe and Marc—helped your brother start the Mississippi Valley Pride. And that alliance kind of splintered.”

  “Wow. Okay. So, he wants to execute me because back before I was even a shifter, some girl I’d never met dumped his son for some guy I’d never met. That’s not quite how the human justice system works.”

  “To be fair, we don’t know that he actually wants to execute you. But that’s not how our system is supposed to work either.” I stuffed the last of my taco into my mouth and unwrapped a second one while I chewed. “It’s possible that this is as simple as reminding Taylor of that. Of his duty to the council.”

  “Considering the broken alliances and grudges you just rattled off, I can’t imagine that any part of this will be simple.”

  “Valid point. But it’s worth a try.” I plucked my cell from the drink holder and sent Faythe a text asking for Ed Taylor’s number.

  She replied half an hour later, as I was finishing my third taco. I smiled when I read her message.

  “What?”

  “Faythe sent me Taylor’s number and told him to expect a call from me. I guess there’s no backing out now.”

  “And there’s no time like the present.” Justus dropped his empty burrito wrapper into the paper bag and challenged me with a grin. “Why don’t you show me just how badass my bride is?”

  Something fluttered deep in my chest. “Stealing a car wasn’t enough for you?”

  “Eh.” Justus shrugged. “Any good wife would get her husband’s murder charge dropped.”

  I laughed. Then I dialed Ed Taylor’s number.

  Eight

  Justus

  Kaci’s heart raced as the phone rang. She stared out her window while she waited for Ed Taylor to answer, but I could see how nervous she was in her tight grip on the fast food bag. I could hear it in the rush of her pulse.

  On sudden impulse, I pulled onto the side of the road and punched the button for the hazard lights.

  She turned to me with a question in her arched brows.

  “He doesn’t have to know we’re driving,” I said. Then I leaned across the center console and kissed her.

  “Hello?” a man’s voice s
aid from her phone, and Kaci pulled away from me with a startled expression.

  I stifled a laugh.

  “Yes. Hello? Mr. Taylor? This is Kaci Dillon.”

  “Hello, Kaci. Faythe told me to expect your call, but I have to say, I’m not sure what it is I can do for you. I assume this is about Justus Alexander?”

  “About his trial, yes.” She looked nervous, but that wasn’t evident in her voice.

  “I was under the impression that his attempt to flee the country just days before the trial meant he wasn’t going to show up.”

  Kaci flinched. “He didn’t flee. We…eloped.”

  “You…?” Taylor sputtered in shock. Clearly Faythe hadn’t passed that bit of news along.

  “Yes. We’re married. But we’re still very much in the country and of course we’re coming to his trial. Justus is less of a flight risk now than he’s ever been,” Kaci said. And she probably had no idea how right she was.

  I didn’t want to leave, if she wasn’t coming with me.

  That didn’t mean I wouldn’t have to leave. But I no longer wanted to.

  “So, what is it I can do for you…Mrs. Alexander.”

  Kaci’s face went as blank as an unmarred whiteboard, and I have to admit, it took me a second to realize what he was saying, as well. I hadn’t heard her called that yet. I hadn’t heard anyone called that since my parents had died, five years before. And we certainly hadn’t discussed whether or not she’d be changing her name.

  I wasn’t even sure she was going to keep the ring.

  Her mouth worked silently for a second, as she struggled to refocus her thoughts. I took her free hand, and she gave me a small, tense smile.

  “Kaci?” Tayler said over the line.

  “Yeah. Sorry. That’s new. Anyway, Justus heard that you’re planning to vote to convict him, but I told him that couldn’t be true, because you haven’t heard the evidence against him yet. You haven’t even met him yet. So, you couldn’t possibly have made up your mind already. Right?”

  I gave her a smile, impressed. She’d backed him into a pretty good corner, from which he really only had one option—claim to be willing to listen to the evidence.

  Silence met her question. I held my breath, waiting for Taylor’s response.

  And finally, “Of course I haven’t made up my mind yet. The trial hasn’t even started. But I have to be honest with you, Kaci,” Taylor said. “If his testimony corroborates what I’ve heard—if he really killed a stray at the Jackson Zoo, where humans could have stumbled upon evidence of our existence—I can’t in good conscience vote to acquit.”

  “And if there were extenuating circumstances?”

  “Kaci, honey—”

  She made a gagging face over the unwelcome diminutive.

  “I think that murder with a risk for exposure is where we have to draw a hard line. Especially if we’re going to be acknowledging this new Pride full of strays. They have to know from the very beginning where we stand on the issues that affect us all. And where they’re expected to stand on those issues.”

  “Okay.” Kaci nodded. “I’m just a little confused by that, because I killed four people, but I was never brought up on charges at all, even though what I did made it onto the national news in Canada. That’s a pretty big risk of exposure.”

  “That’s an entirely different case,” Taylor insisted. “You were a traumatized child. You had no idea what you were doing, or what was happening to you.”

  “That’s my point. There were extenuating circumstances. Circumstances very similar to what Justus was going through when he was infected against his will—targeted for infection specifically to discredit his brother’s authority—then unleashed in the midst of an unchaperoned, unassisted transitional period upon people who’d hurt him. I mean…” She paused, hazel eyes narrowed, and it was a shame that Taylor was missing the entire visual half of her performance. Because she was magnificent. “…it’s almost like you’re saying that what I did was okay because I’m a girl, but despite undeniably similar circumstances, what Justus did was not okay, because he’s a guy. That’s textbook gender bias. So, I’m pretty sure that can’t be what you’re actually saying. Right, Mr. Taylor?”

  Holy shit, she was amazing.

  I wanted to grab her phone and hang it up, then kiss her all over, right there on the highway. I’d bailed friends and girlfriends out of trouble—and out of jail—several times, but no one had ever gone to bat for me like that, other than Titus.

  During the silence that followed, I pictured Ed Taylor, whom I’d never met, pulling his hair out by the roots. It must suck to be fully grown—and an Alpha, at that—and realize you’ve been verbally hemmed in by an eighteen-year-old.

  “Of course that’s not what I’m saying. And I believe I’ve already answered your question, Kaci. The other members of the tribunal and I will reserve judgement until after we’ve heard the evidence. But I would advise you not to get your hopes up, dear. I understand that you see similarities between your circumstances and Mr. Alexander’s, but it’s entirely likely that other people won’t see those similarities.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. People tend to see what they want to see,” Kaci said. “And my advice to you, Mr. Taylor, is not to underestimate either me or Justus. We may be young, and we may not have been born into your world, but we are strong, and we are determined. And we have nothing left to lose.”

  Kaci hung up the phone and dropped it into the center console, then she leaned back in her chair, one hand over her eyes. She breathed deeply through her mouth, and the rise and fall of her chest was the sexiest, most mesmerizing thing I’d ever seen. Other than the mouth she’d just used to put a fucking Alpha in his place.

  “I think I just threatened a council member.” She dropped her hand and looked up at me, hazel eyes swimming in some heady combination of fear and excitement. “Why the hell did I just threaten a council member?”

  “Because you’re amazing. Because you’re badass. Because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and you’re even sexier when you talk.”

  She sat up, laughing, and I needed to touch her so badly. “I’m pretty sure you could lose your man-card for saying something like that.”

  “I don’t need my man-card. All I need is you.” I tugged some slack into my seatbelt, then leaned over the console to kiss her again.

  “Why do you keep doing this?” she murmured as I kissed my way down her neck, trying to ignore the way the console dug into my side. “I can’t think when you do this.”

  “That’s part of why I do it. Change of plans.” I shifted the car back into drive and flicked on my left blinker, then accelerated into traffic. “We’re stopping for the night.”

  “But we’ve only been on the road for a couple of hours.”

  “I don’t care. They don’t know where we’re headed, and with any luck, you’ve convinced them I’m no longer a flight risk. We can afford to take time out for a nice dinner and a good night’s sleep.” Especially considering that this was basically our honeymoon.

  “Okay, but can we afford to pay for those?”

  I nodded. “I have a little cash left.”

  We drove another forty minutes, until I found an exit advertising a decent hotel, then I pulled off the highway just over the Utah state line.

  The hotel was nothing special, and neither was our room. But Kaci sang while she showered and though I kept my distance, like a gentleman, I couldn’t help picturing her in there, dripping wet and slick with soap. I’d seen her naked at least half a dozen times, post-shift, and while I understood that nudity after a shift was not considered sexual, I remembered wondering, idly, why none of the enforcers seemed to want anything to do with her. Especially the ones near our age.

  I mean, the council had been willing to start a war to get Robyn back, because women were so rare in the shifter world, and Kaci was gorgeous. I couldn’t be the only one who’d ever noticed—”

  “Your turn.”


  I looked up to see her standing in front of me, wrapped in a towel, her long, chestnut colored-hair dripping over one shoulder. Her face was bare, her skin fresh with the fragrance of whatever soap she used, and I wanted to touch her so badly. I wanted to taste her.

  I wanted to feel her hands—

  “Um…” She glanced pointedly at the bulge in my pants.

  “Yeah. Sorry. Just ignore that.” On my way into the bathroom, I stopped to kiss a drop of water from her bare shoulder. When she didn’t object, I ran one hand down her arm and over her hip.

  She made this sexy, needy sound deep in her throat, and I groaned. Then I escaped into the shower before I said something I’d regret.

  By the time I emerged with wet hair and fresh breath, Kaci had applied makeup she didn’t need and put on clean clothes. “I didn’t pack anything fancier than a t-shirt, so I hope this dinner isn’t too nice.”

  “Screw the dinner.” My voice held a gravelly note—an obvious arousal that had never been quiet so obvious before I was infected. “We could order room service, and you wouldn’t have to wear anything.”

  “Ha, ha. I’m dressed. We’re going out.”

  “As you wish. Our options in SmallTown, Utah include a local steakhouse, a sandwich shop, and an ‘upscale casual dining’ place that offers cliffside views. None of them are rated higher than four out of five stars, or more expensive than two out of four dollar signs on my review app. So, please select from the best mediocrity has to offer. And keep in mind that if you come spend forever on an island with me, I will cook for you every night.”

  “You cook?” She looked so impressed I hated to admit that I was joking.

  “Okay, I will take a cooking class, then I will cook for you every night.”

  “I don’t cook either.” She unplugged her phone from the power bank on the hotel desk and slid it into her pocket. “We might actually starve, alone on an island together.”

  “You do realize this won’t be an uncharted island, right? Not a deserted island. Just an island with no local shifter government in place to tell us we can’t live there. There will be restaurants on the island. And if you still have that ring on your finger, we’ll be able to afford to eat there every night. Or buy all the restaurants and make them deliver to us.”