Hank frowned. “This goes against my oath of office, but this isn’t something governed by human law. Charlie is a Merrow now, and we protect our own.”
“Damn straight.” Titus pounded his fist on the table.
“Are you saying what I think you are?” Bridget asked.
Hank looked at her, then Titus, then Sam. “I’m saying Prescott does not leave with Charlie. Stop him by whatever means you think necessary. Including lethal force.”
A large chalk circle marked the clearing where the decision about Charlie’s future would be made. With Bridget at her side, Ivy tipped her head back to look at the moon. It had begun its waning cycle, but was still very bright and full. Moonlight usually gave her peace.
But tonight was not a usual night. Tonight was the night that the life of her child had suddenly become a prize to be won. The night when the man she loved was putting his own life at risk to make sure her son remained her son. She tried to take comfort in the fact that Hank was strong and tough and trained beyond the average shifter. She also knew that he thought of Charlie as his son too now, whereas Eric just saw Charlie as a paycheck.
But that also meant Eric was willing to do anything for money. And to Ivy, that made him unpredictable. What else would he be willing to do? She’d stopped trusting him the day he’d told her he couldn’t be tied down to a kid and had systematically removed her from his life.
She’d never hated Eric exactly. Felt betrayed by him. Considered him a loser. And a jerk. She wasn’t the first woman to get pregnant and have a guy ditch her. It happened. And she’d gotten Charlie out of it, so clearly she’d come out ahead. But after Birdie had shared the financial information she’d uncovered, Ivy’s feelings toward Eric had hit a solid level of contempt. A man who’d try to take an innocent child away from his mother just to get paid? Eric and her father were a match made in hell.
Delaney Ellingham walked up to her and Bridget. Her eyes held sympathy. “I hope you don’t mind me being here. You know I am completely on your side.”
Ivy nodded but couldn’t muster a smile. “I appreciate the support.”
Concern bracketed Delaney’s mouth. “How are you doing?”
Ivy took a deep breath and told the truth. “Not great.”
“I bet not. I wish there was something I could do to help. I’m sure Hank’s going to beat this guy easily.”
“Thanks. It was nice of you to come.” She didn’t know Delaney that well yet, but the fact that the woman had shown up for moral support meant a lot to Ivy. Granted, her husband was here, but that didn’t mean Delaney was required to come.
Delaney didn’t leave. “Can I stand with you guys?”
“Of course.” Ivy took some comfort in that. Friends were good. “The wedding cake was really great. So were all the extra sweets. Thanks again for that.”
“Anytime,” Delaney said. Then she laughed. “I mean for regular cake. Not wedding cake. Because there’s no reason you’d be getting married again.” She cringed as if questioning her own words. “I mean…did you know the Tootsie Roll was the first penny candy that was sold in a wrapper?”
Ivy’s brows lifted slightly. “Can’t say that I did.”
Delaney sighed. “Sorry. I blurt random facts about candy when I’m nervous.”
Ivy smiled despite her mood. “It’s okay. I really do appreciate you being here. I don’t know a lot of people in town.”
Delaney’s smile brightened. “We’ll fix that. Just as soon as we get past this.”
Sam walked into the clearing. He gave Ivy a little wave. She waved back. He came toward her, glancing once or twice at her, then Bridget, but stopped several feet away. Like he wasn’t sure if he’d be interrupting.
She looked at him, then nodded at the space beside Bridget. He just shrugged and kept his distance.
Bridget nudged Ivy with her elbow. “You want us to leave you alone? So you can talk to your brother?”
“No, he’ll come over when he wants to.” She threw Sam another look.
He started walking toward them again, looking a little sheepish. Ivy got the distinct feeling it had everything to do with Bridget and nothing to do with any kind of remaining strain between them as siblings.
“Men are such strange creatures.” Bridget bent forward to see Delaney. “Didn’t happen to bring any candy, did you?”
Delaney shook her head. “Not this time.”
“Worth a shot.” Bridget straightened.
Delaney lifted her chin toward the clearing. “Did someone come out here today and flatten this all down?”
“No,” Bridget answered. “But Nick Hardwin came out and did the chalk circle.”
Delaney looked around. “Where is Nick? I thought he’d be here.”
Sam finally joined them, standing a few steps away on Bridget’s side. “Hey, Ivy. Hi, Bridget.”
Bridget smiled. “Hi, Sam.”
Ivy introduced Delaney, then answered her question about Nick by pointing skyward. “He’s patrolling. Making sure Eric doesn’t have any backup we don’t know about or that Hank doesn’t get ambushed in some way.”
Delaney glanced up. “Cool. I’m always amazed that a creature made of stone even exists, but add to that his ability to fly and it’s just plain impressive.”
“Agreed.” And Ivy felt better knowing they had that much extra coverage in case something did happen. There was no way Eric would get away with Charlie. Didn’t mean she was looking forward to the challenge, though. She glanced at Bridget. “Have there been a lot of challenges out here?”
“No, this is the first one in years. But the pack members do use this area for sparring sometimes.”
Ivy found some peace in that. Hank had the home field advantage. That was something, right?
“Look,” Delaney whispered as she pointed toward the center of the clearing. “That’s Sebastian, my husband’s cranky older brother.”
He was a sternly handsome man. A real Mr. Darcy. “Why is he cranky?” Ivy asked.
“Wife troubles. Ex-wife. Or something like that. Long story.”
Ivy nodded. Exes never made things easy. “I get the picture.”
Sam snorted like he understood.
If Sebastian was in the arena, the start of the challenge couldn’t be far behind. Ivy knew Hank was on the north side of the field, which meant Eric was probably on the south. She found him at the edge of the tree line. “I’ll be right back.”
Before anyone could stop her, she took off toward Eric. He watched her coming, smiling like he’d known she couldn’t stay away. “Come to beg me to spare your husband? Just turn the kid over and I won’t lay a hand on him.”
“Not why I’m here. I’ve come to give you a chance to walk away from all this. I know about my father paying you. For everything. Just leave and you might be able to maintain some dignity.”
Eric’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know anything.”
“My husband’s the sheriff. Digging into your financial records wasn’t hard. I know about the gambling too. Seriously, this is your last chance to leave and put all this behind you. For once in your life, do what’s best for Charlie.”
“Ivy?”
She turned around. Hank was standing behind her and the eyes of the crowd were on them.
Hank looked at Eric. “She’s right. This is your last chance to end this peacefully.”
“Scared?” Eric asked.
Hank’s jaw tensed.
Sebastian’s voice rang out over the clearing. “Tonight we are here to witness the challenge between Hank Merrow and Eric Prescott.”
“Too late now.” Hank looked at Ivy. “I’ll see you when it’s over.” He looked at Eric. “When we’re taking Charlie home.”
Ivy nodded and walked back toward her brother and her friends, giving Hank’s hand a little squeeze as she went past him.
Sebastian raised his hand to quiet the small crowd that had gathered at the edges of the arena. He waited until Ivy had rejoined her group before doi
ng anything further.
Then Sebastian pointed his hand toward Hank and Eric and beckoned them into the circle. The men walked to the center of the space, stopping a few feet away from each other. Sebastian held his hand out toward Eric. “Eric Prescott, you enter the ring as challenger. State your challenge.”
Eric kept his eyes on Hank. “I challenge in the name of my son, Charlie Kincaid, and I challenge you, Hank Merrow, for his final custody. I’d also like to know where Charlie is. He’s supposed to be here.”
Hugh Ellingham stepped forward. “He’s here. He’s asleep in a car at the head of the trail in. I can vouch for that.”
Sebastian looked at Eric. “Do you accept the word of the adjudicator?”
Eric hesitated. “I don’t know.”
Ivy’s blood boiled. She jabbed a finger toward him, even though he was at least twenty feet away. “Don’t you dare drag Charlie into this any more than you already have. He doesn’t need to see this.”
“Ivy,” Sam hissed. “Don’t.”
Bridget put her hand on Ivy’s arm like she thought Ivy might take off again and attack Eric this time. Which certainly felt like a good idea.
Eric frowned. “Fine. I accept the word of the adjudicator.” Then he pointed at Ivy. “He’d better be there.”
She glared at him, but held her tongue. Sam was right. Making Eric angrier wasn’t going to help Hank.
Sebastian turned to Hank. “Hank Merrow, you enter the ring as the challenged. Do you wish to add to this dispute?”
Hank nodded and spoke, his voice steady and determined. “I want this to be about Charlie Merrow’s final custody as well, but also, when I win, I want Eric Prescott to disappear from Charlie’s life permanently.”
“So be it,” Sebastian said. “A winner will be declared when one combatant surrenders or is physically unable to continue.”
Then he made eye contact with the small crowd. “Anyone who enters this ring will cause the immediate disqualification of the party with whom they side.”
As far as Ivy knew, Eric had no one on his side, which meant Hank was the only one who would suffer if someone crossed into the ring.
Sebastian waited a beat, then brought his hand down and backed away. “May the just win.”
Hank and Eric began to circle each other. Bridget leaned forward again to talk to Delaney. “Sebastian did a good job memorizing the words.”
“He’s a stickler for that kind of stuff.” Delaney frowned. “I thought there would be more rules besides ‘don’t cross into the circle.’ What about rules for the fighters?”
“There aren’t any,” Ivy said, her eyes on Hank.
“Really? Yikes.” Delaney shoved her hands in her pockets. “That’s hard core.”
“That’s how shifters settle things,” Sam said.
Ivy was too busy mentally channeling all the strength and cunning she could toward Hank to talk anymore. She worried her wedding rings, twisting them around her finger nervously.
Bridget brushed her shoulder against Ivy’s and said softly, “It’s going to be okay.”
Ivy nodded but couldn’t respond. Her pulse was speeding, her stomach hurt and the inability to help Hank win this thing was eating at her.
If by some cruel twist of fate, this challenge didn’t go their way, if Hank was hurt and unable to keep Eric from leaving with Charlie, she knew exactly what she’d have to do. Not only that, but she was prepared to do it.
And if that meant she ended up arrested for murder, so be it.
Charlie’s life was worth spending hers behind bars.
The world outside the clearing fell away. In the human part of his brain, Hank knew Ivy, Sam, Bridget and Titus were out there. But in the shifter part of his brain, the soldier part, Hank functioned on a different level. His focus had narrowed to the task before him. Defeating Prescott. His mind became a war machine: calculating distances, anticipating moves, projecting outcomes.
Preparing to attack.
Prescott was close in height, maybe an inch shorter, but he had the soft body of a weekend warrior. Prescott’s shifter genetics were probably the only thing keeping him from turning into a complete pile of mush. But if the man thought he could take on Hank and win, he must have some kind of training.
Prescott took on a martial arts stance.
Hank wasn’t about to underestimate the man. Maybe he knew some karate or judo but Hank knew his own skills and even if Prescott had been taught to fight by the best shifters around, Hank’s Ranger training would make that look like a middle school field day.
His plan was to take Prescott down fast and hard, but he also wanted to teach Prescott a lesson, and for that, he needed the other shifter to make the first move so that he could lull Prescott into thinking Hank was an easy mark. Then he would strike with the kind of speed and force that would paint a picture with pain. He needed Prescott to understand what a mistake it was to take on a Merrow.
Enough so that Prescott never tried it again.
Prescott grinned at him as they slowly moved around each other. “You scared, Merrow?”
Hank said nothing. Kept his expression stern. If Prescott wanted to play mind games, he was about to be sorely outclassed.
Hell, he was already outclassed. He was just about to figure that out. The hard way.
Prescott’s fool grin never left his face. “I’ll take that as a yes. Look, I won’t hurt you too much in front of Ivy, but I plan on putting on a good show so some pain is inevitable. Unless you just want to give up now. I’m cool with that, too.”
Hank kept his mouth shut.
“I get it,” Prescott said. “You’re doing the tough thing, right? Saving face in front of the little woman and all that. You do what you gotta do, man.”
Maybe Hank wouldn’t wait for Prescott to make the first move. The desire to deal this idiot some pain was fast becoming more than Hank could ignore. But he really wanted to lull Prescott into thinking this was going to be an easy fight.
Then Prescott lunged, and instead of dodging, Hank fought his instincts and training and let the man connect. A little. Prescott’s fist grazed Hank’s jaw, succeeding in splitting his lip.
A gasp went up from those gathered, but Hank’s only response was to retreat from Prescott and wipe the back of his hand across his mouth. He could hear Ivy’s voice asking someone what the hell he was doing. He wanted to tell her to watch and see, but she’d figure it out soon enough.
The idiot went back to grinning. “First blood.”
Not as sweet as last blood, Hank thought.
“You ready to give up yet?”
Hank kept circling.
Prescott huffed out a bored sigh. “You’re really going to make me do this the hard way, huh?”
Then he shrugged. “Suit yourself. If you want to look like a chump in front of your friends, that’s your business.” Prescott’s brows bent as his eyes lit with confidence. “I’ll try not to hurt you too much.”
Then he launched.
This time Hank went low, caught him under the shoulder and flipped him into the air. Prescott hit the ground hard.
The breath whooshed out in a strained wheeze. He lay still for a couple seconds, then managed to get back on his feet. Prescott’s chest was heaving as he struggled to recover his wind.
Hank let him go long enough to make him think the move had been a fluke.
It worked.
“Lucky”—Prescott sucked in another breath—“shot.”
Hank almost laughed. Instead, he charged, fist forward, and landed a blow in the center of Prescott’s chest, knocking him to the ground a second time without air in his lungs.
Hank stood over him. “Done yet?”
Panting for air, Prescott rolled to all fours, his eyes golden. He bared his teeth in a half-hearted snarl. “Maybe,” he wheezed, “I’ll hurt you after all.”
Hank shook his head slowly, let his wolf into his gaze. “I don’t think you know what pain is.” He rolled his head around, crackin
g his vertebrae and loosening himself up for the real work. “But here comes lesson number one.”
With a snarl, Hank attacked. Prescott retaliated by going into his half form and slicing wildly with his claws. He made contact with Hank’s upper arm but only managed to cut through his shirt.
Hank threw him off but stayed in human form. The half form had its limits, like not being able to make a fist without digging your claws into your palm, and this wasn’t the kind of fight where a backhand was going to suffice.
Prescott had regained his breath, but his eyes were round and gleaming with the realization that Hank wasn’t the easy mark he’d thought.
Building on that, Hank punched Prescott across the jaw. His eyes rolled back in his head as he staggered, trying to stay upright.
Hank put another fist in Prescott’s gut, doubling him over, then Hank swept his leg around and brought Prescott to the ground.
He went fetal, gasping for breath as he returned to his fully human state.
“Do you give?” Hank asked as he stood over the man. No point in fighting more than he had to.
“Hell, no,” Prescott rasped. He put a hand on the ground and pushed to a sitting position. Blood trickled from his lip.
“Really?” Hank raised his brows. “So you’re only a quitter when it comes to fatherhood.”
Prescott glowered at him. “Why aren’t you attacking me? Why are you letting me recover?”
“Because you’re not a threat to me. I want you to realize what a bad decision challenging me was so that you never do it again. Just remember how completely unprepared you are.”
Prescott cursed. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you?”
“From a fighting standpoint, I know I am.” Hank backed up a step to give the man some space and gestured for Prescott to rise. “Get up and let’s finish this.”
Prescott shook his head, eyes glowing gold, and with a growl, he launched toward Hank, shifting into a wolf as he came down. He took Hank to the ground. Hank jammed his arm up to shove Prescott off, but Prescott sank his teeth into Hank’s arm.
Pain shot through Hank, and he howled in anger, the pain driving him harder. He drew his feet up, planted them on Prescott’s body and shoved, flipping the wolf into the air and giving himself a chance to roll free.
The Werewolf Meets His Match (Nocturne Falls Book 2) Page 20