The Midwife's Moon

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The Midwife's Moon Page 7

by Leona J. Bushman


  Chapter Seven

  Joseph’s smile of pride and confidence was much different from the panicked look he’d worn through most of the trial. Lance stared Joseph down. He would tear the smile off Joseph’s face as soon as Nolan gave the go ahead. He nodded to show his readiness.

  Joseph said, “Oh yeah. I’m ready for this one.”

  Joseph would pay for the mistake in judgment. Lance could see Joseph judged him by the way Roxy had treated him in the past and did not know his true worth. Lance would quickly fix that notion.

  He finished taking off his clothes and stood there waiting, uncaring of his nakedness. Roxy had shamed and embarrassed him far worse than being nude in front of the pack could do. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nolan’s hand raise, pause. When Nolan’s hand was in the air, the whole warehouse seemed to take a collective breath and hold it.

  Then the hand came down.

  Lance changed, dodging to the side as he did. Joseph lunged where Lance had been standing and lost his balance as his claws skidded across the cement floor. Lance swiped him hard, drawing blood. Joseph yelped and turned. He growled at Lance while he circled. Lance eyed Joseph, watching how he moved, looking for weakness, and ascertaining the strength of Joseph’s fighting skills. Lance’s muscles tensed up, ready to spring. The thrum of power beat in him, and his wolf howled in challenge.

  Joseph’s eyes flickered to the crowd, and he quickly attacked. His strong jaw bit through the tough wolf hide and drew more blood before he let go. Joseph began pulling back, wary now. The crowd screamed at them after the second blood draw. Most were on Lance’s side simply because of what Joseph had done to weres at large, but a few still rooted for Joseph, including Ryan.

  When the fight’s over, maybe I should warn the Ulfric that Ryan had wanted the top dog spot at Roxy’s side when she was the Lupa. His momentary inattentiveness allowed Joseph to scratch him along the foreleg.

  He growled and fought back. Biting, nipping, only using his paws to change up his fighting or surprise attacks. Joseph’s movements were desperate and furious as if angry that Lance had the skill and strength to stand up for himself. Barks and yelps rented the air. The warehouse became a cacophony of noise, blood, and heat that swelled until the air was thick with the essence of the fight.

  Lance finally found a good opening. Growls emanated from his throat as he locked on to Joseph’s haunch and shook a chunk loose that bled profusely.

  The crowd’s roars escalated at this further show of Lance’s prowess. His pack had thought him submissive, and Nolan’s pack had no idea what to expect. Joseph, cautious now, didn’t give up as many chances. They both had stopped, their sides heaving as they stared each other down.

  “What did I do to you?” Joseph asked.

  “You hurt my mate,” Lance replied.

  “You’re nothing but Roxy’s dog,” Joseph taunted. “You have no mate.”

  Lance jumped full throttle at him but missed. He skidded across the cement, turned his ankle on his left forepaw, which caused him to roll off the short drop of the dais and into the crowd. They backed up. Some sucked in a breath and others sneered. Joseph landed on him and bit at him. He swiped at Joseph’s neck with his other forepaw, trying to buy some time and keep Joseph off his belly and neck.

  Joseph bit his paw, and he yelped and scrambled to his feet, jumping back up to the fighting circle. Joseph’s taunting manner dissipated, but in its place was raw desperation as he also returned to the fighting circle. Lance figured the element of surprise no longer impacted the fight, but he still had an advantage. He often fought others in his pack to keep from getting bullied, whereas Joseph had grown indolent, especially of late. Roxy’s protection seemingly absolute.

  Not anymore.

  Lance growled low in his throat as he snapped at Joseph’s extended paw. Joseph jerked his paw back. Lance followed up with an attack at the throat. He managed to tear one of Joseph’s ears before Joseph got away. Joseph attacked him again, and the two of them fought on their hind legs. Though they each searched for supremacy, Lance had the advantage of years of fighting in a merciless pack.

  Lance received a few deep scratches and pain pushed through his mind. Ruthlessly, he shoved it to the side. He’d had plenty of practice hiding hurt with Roxy. Nothing Joseph could do now would be able to damage him as much as some of her tortures. Joseph seemed startled he didn’t back down. If anything, he battled harder, angry at the intrusion of the ugly memories. He finally disengaged and backed off to circle and pant. Lance let him, as it gave him a chance to breathe as well.

  They took short snaps at each other, neither one getting in a good shot, but Lance watched Joseph carefully. The traitor tried to hide it, but he favored his right side. Lance tested his theory with a couple of feints to see how Joseph reacted. Definitely hurt on the one side.

  Lance prepped his move first in his mind then waited for his shot. The crowd cheered and jeered. Calls for the kill rang out. He lurched and managed to snag Joseph’s neck in his maw. This time, he clamped down hard and refused to let go. Joseph struggled, trying to turn his head to get a grip on a piece of him to no avail.

  In his mind’s eye, he saw his mate, alone, shifting, then caught in a trap. He thought of Alex at Boris’ mercy. He thought of all the young men who had lost their mates. He thought of the women and their unborn, now dead with Joseph’s help. He clamped down harder. No way would Joseph live to hurt another. Lance knew Roxy too well, and if she wanted him, she would find a way to relieve him of his exile. No. It stopped here and now. Another cog in Roxy’s torture wheel broken.

  Joseph continued to fight him, each movement weaker; and blood flowed freely. Lance held on until he heard a smothered cry. When he looked up, he saw the tears in Lisa’s eyes—and the pity—so he dropped his hold on Joseph and stepped back. He didn’t know if Joseph would die or not, but he would not hold the traitor in his mouth while he expired. He couldn’t with Lisa looking at him that way.

  His eyes met hers, and she nodded her approval. His heart soared then choked up at her compassionate nature. Joseph had left her, an aswan, alone, and yet she had pity. He limped over to her and sat at her feet in submission. She pet his wolf head and ruffled his ears. She might not have touched him so intimately in his human form, so he stayed there as wolf and faced the arena again, waiting on the Ulfric’s pronouncement.

  ***

  Nolan watched Lance walk to his mate with mixed feelings of pride and worry then turned his attention back to the pack’s betrayer. Joseph still struggled to stand, but there was no real strength in him.

  “Do you wish a healer,” Nolan asked formally. His dad would probably rake him over the coals for the offer, but Nolan was running the pack his way.

  Joseph shook his head yes, and Alex bent down. Nolan heard a sharp exclamation and looked over to see Lisa’s hands fist in Lance’s fur. He couldn’t worry about her reaction any more than his dad’s, but it was a relief to know she’d not been in favor of the killing.

  Some people still called out for Joseph’s death, but most of the pack had quieted as Alex examined the traitor. Although, the voices streaming into his head wouldn’t stop. The shields he’d learned from Sherona were still weak and hard for him to keep up all the time. He resisted grabbing his head as the pain lanced it. So many whispers.

  “I hope she understands.”

  “Worthless dog.”

  “Justin won’t be happy to know Joseph’s still alive.”

  “When will my son learn?”

  “Lance should be dead. Wonder where Roxy is and if I can join her.”

  “Alex is weak to help the pathetic betrayer.”

  Too many voices invaded his mind all at once, and after the semi-silence garnered from his shield, it was even worse than before. He couldn’t identify who was thinking what. And who the hell is Justin? As far as he remembered, no one named Justin was in his pack or the defunct Lupin pack. They couldn’t mean the Seathe pack leader, could they? Maybe his d
ad would know. It would gall him to have to ask his dad anything, especially if it turned out to be something politically related to other packs. His dad seemed to thrive on the power plays and politics, whereas he hated them.

  “Where we sitting, Alex?” Not for the first time, he appreciated that he could speak with his mate this way. Telepathy wasn’t common in his pack. Although, he glanced at Sherona as the thought crossed his mind. It may be more common than he’d realized. He attempted to get his shield back up with only the doorway for Alex in place.

  “It’s pretty bad, but with the propensity we have for healing quickly, Joseph should live.”

  “Lance let him go on purpose.”

  “I know. I’m trying to hear what’s going on in Lance’s head and why he didn’t finish the kill.”

  ***

  Obviously conflicted, as her hands tensed where they touched, Lisa’s emotions vibrated within him. He tried to pay attention to what Alex was doing, but his concentration kept going back to Lisa’s fingers and her soothing touch. Her hands tensed as she gripped his fur, and her varied reactions shuddered through him.

  If he had killed Joseph, he knew it to be a fair fight so his conscience would remain clear. If he hadn’t, it had been for the sake of the women, for he could sense Alex’s conflict as well. Alex had always treated him kindly, and he had a moment’s gladness he had known of Lisa’s anguished feelings. Alex would understand not only the need to protect the pack but his mate’s feelings as well.

  At that moment, Alex looked up and met his eyes. She glanced up to Lisa then back to him and nodded. Lance shivered. She sure could come over spooky sometimes. How she always seemed to know what he thought remained a mystery to him.

  He turned his head slightly and licked Lisa’s hand before moving back to the circle of the battle. Once there, he sat on his haunches near Alex and waited for her diagnosis.

  “He’ll live,” she said quietly, for Lance alone. “He’ll probably show a few scars, but otherwise, he should heal. It’ll take a while. I know why you didn’t kill him. I agree with the sentiment of your decision. I just hope no one else pays for all of our compassion.”

  Lance heard her emphasis on all and wondered if she understood it was his compassion for Lisa, not Joseph, that had caused him to hold off the killing blow. “Me too,” he said quietly since she seemed to be waiting for an answer.

  “He’s alive,” she said louder and held her hand over Joseph’s worst wound. “Unconscious, but alive. We’ll take him to his exile to heal. I will monitor his progress.”

  There were loud shouts from the crowd, some in protest, some in favor of Lance’s victory. He changed back to human and picked up his clothes. A part of him felt as if he’d finally gotten justice for the night he had found Lisa, but another part felt cheated of his rightful victory. His need to avenge Lisa for Joseph’s actions had lived in him for so long, emptiness now occupied the place that driving force had been.

  He turned to stare at Lisa. No, not emptiness exactly. More of an opportunity to fill his life with something more important and giving. After dressing, he moved to stand next to Lisa who let him put his arm around her. He saw her struggle with tears for a moment then her face went stoic again.

  What kind of pain had she endured during this time? Would he be enough to help her? Could he be? Roxy had hurt him deeply. His ability to trust, and more terrifying for him, possibly his ability to make love since Roxy had forced him so many times. Panic threatened to consume him at the thought of losing his mate because he couldn’t perform, but he tamped it down. He would deal with that bridge when he came to it.

  When Nolan called an official end to the meeting, Lisa left Lance’s side to speak with the ulfric. Their speech was murmured and even with his excellent hearing, he could not understand the words, did not need to as long as his mate’s stance was not defensive.

  He had spent years fantasizing over his first date. Their meet up and this pack gathering did not even come close to his fervent imagination. Nevertheless, he had a hard time getting past his visceral reactions to his mate and still act like a human.

  Had Roxy taken that ability from him as well? Would he be unfit company for people, including his mate? She had agreed to see him after they’d finished, but could he live up to her expectations? Hell. He didn’t even know what to expect from her. Only that he wanted to be with her, hear her voice, see her face across from him.

  Lisa turned around, and their gazes caught. Lance sucked in his breath as emotions slammed him in the gut. Love and hope warred with shame and disbelief. Would he be able to get beyond his past and love her? Would she be able to see past the things Roxy had done to him?

  Tonight, he would find out.

  Chapter Eight

  Roxy watched with interest as Boris, Heather, and Justin discussed the merits of the drug they’d administered to the werewolf who lay across the table comatose. Interest because Heather’s demeanor was vastly different from when they had arrived at Justin’s home.

  The proud, haughty stance had lessened to the point Heather barely looked anyone in the eye. There were cuts and bruises on her face, giving her a splotchy, unhealthy look. Roxy let the gloat show in her expression as she sauntered over to them. “How long will she stay out?” she asked Heather, indicating the tortured wolf on the table.

  “At least an hour,” Heather replied without meeting her gaze.

  Roxy’s smile only got wider as she met Boris’ look. Obviously, he had good reason to be pleased. Heather had been a thorn in their side too long. The former healer would now do as they bade her or else suffer the consequences. Currently, they had her working on a stronger, faster acting serum. She wanted immediate results when she plugged someone with the drug.

  Regrettably, Roxy feared they were pushing the healer too fast now. They forced Heather into overdrive. Unfortunately, after dragging her feet for years, Heather still hadn’t come up with a usable serum. Last night, one of the submissives had gone into convulsions, changing back and forth from were to human until he seized and died.

  This latest subject just laid there. She’d fought and broke through a pair of the straps holding her down, scratching Boris and Heather before being subdued into complete compliance. The total absence of animation would be fine for some purposes, but they still had two problems. The first one, it had taken too long for the subject to quit fighting. The second, the subject wasn’t responsive enough to answer questions, so it would do them no good on weres they’d captured.

  “At least an hour?” Roxy repeated. “So it’ll be an hour before she can respond to questions? This is unacceptable. Perhaps you need more persuasion,” she added meaningfully.

  Heather’s skin turned sallow, and her eyes rounded. “It’s only been a few days,” she protested looking at Justin and Boris frantically. “These things take time.”

  “You don’t have time. Perhaps I should allow our host to try his hand at disciplining you. You seem to enjoy Boris’ treatment too much,” Roxy replied in a quiet voice.

  “No,” Heather gasped. “I—” She looked at Boris who had stepped threateningly closer to her. “I’m trying my best,” she finished lamely.

  “Roxy,” Justin said, his tone chiding. “I’m sure your ex-healer is doing her best.” He put a hand on Heather’s shoulder in a friendly gesture. “They’re just eager to begin the work we are meant to do. You do understand that we seek to make this world better for the whole of the were community?”

  Roxy had to work to hide her sneer at Justin’s words, but his manipulations appeared to work. Heather now looked at Justin pleadingly. “I am doing my best. I need more time. I don’t have my notes. I need them.”

  “Where are they?” he asked, still using a reasonable tone. “Perhaps I can send someone to get them.”

  “No, there are a few here and there, depending on the serum and where I was working on them last. I’d have to visit the old healing house, my house, and the lodge to get them all,” Heather sa
id pleadingly.

  “Is this a trick?” Roxy snarled. Justin wanted to play good cop, fine, she’d be bad cop. It was her natural mode, anyway.

  “No. I had to keep certain ones close at hand at the lodge and others in the old healing house for when you brought me special weres,” Heather replied, referring to the weres Roxy brought in after one-on-one fights.

  She wanted to hit Heather, but she refrained when she remembered seeing the healer hold a different colored binder at each place. Justin stared at her questioningly. “I remember seeing her with notes that could be the ones we’re talking about.” Though she’d rather cut off her tongue than admit it, time was running out. She wanted revenge on the Wahpawhat ulfric now.

  Roxy sneered inwardly as she watched Justin caress Heather’s cheek, but also noted that Heather looked at him with hope on her face. Perhaps Justin had the right of it on how to manipulate her. She made a mental note to have Boris back off on his punishments of her. She’d proven her point and showed Heather whom the alpha was, so cared little how the woman would be manipulated from this point on.

  “Well,” Justin said, running a gentle hand down Heather’s cheek. “I guess we’re visiting eastern Washington.”

  “You think that’s safe?” Roxy objected.

  “Not in the slightest, but if we’re careful, we can be in and out with no one the wiser. Your headquarters will be all but deserted with the melding of the two packs. Until the Ulfric repurposes it, the lodge will remain that way. I’m sure you know the back roads in.”

  Justin’s condescending tone grated hard on her nerves. “You can take Boris.”

  “I’ll be taking both of you,” Justin said quietly.

  Roxy felt a queer rush of need to please Justin flow over her but resisted. “Why do you need both of us?”

  “In case there’s trouble. You’ll have a better grasp of who’s friend or foe, and while bruiser here is useful, you’re the lupa.”

  “Not anymore,” she said, resentful he’d push that in her face.

 

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