by Karen Ranney
Parking was a challenge downtown, but during Fiesta it was impossible. My father’s law firm took up one of the floors in a building on St. Mary’s Street. Because I was a Boyd, I had a permanent spot on the adjacent third-floor parking garage. Sometimes it paid to be a princess.
We parked, left the garage, and began to walk. The streets were as crowded as New York City. Two popular Fiesta events tonight meant that thousands of people were lining the river.
Beer flowed like water and the smell of Mexican food triumphed over all other odors. I was suddenly hungry for some nachos or a dozen tamales or two.
Maybe flying made me famished.
I told Mark about the Coronation. I’d already known he wasn’t from our clan because I hadn’t recognized him. As we walked I gave him a quick history on the Brotherhood and the coronation.
At the top of one of the arched bridges I grabbed his hand before descending the steps and moving through the crowd.
Holding his hand did something for me and not my libido this time. Touching him eased my mind as we wound our way through the crowd.
This confrontation with my father had been coming for years and I should have been more worried than I was.
The fact that I was very calm might have something to do with the fact that I’d scared Joey with my strength. I had no intention of manhandling my father, but he was a powerful Were. If he merely nodded at someone, they’d come to his assistance with no questions. I’d be the one pinned to the wall.
Until tonight.
After checking my phone for the time, I decided that the Arneson River Theater was the best place to catch my father.
The Theater was a strange duck of a place. It was on the one side of the river and on the other side was the audience, seated on grass covered stone benches. In between was the green San Antonio River, only about twenty feet deep at this point. During Fiesta, several events took place at the Arneson. Tonight, however, they were doing double duty. The first part of the evening was the Texas Cavaliers River Parade. When it was over, the Brotherhood of the Alamo presented their court.
At the gate to the backstage, I had to present my ID.
“My sister is one of the duchesses,” I said. “I need to take her something.”
The Boyd name let me in. I glanced at Mark and wondered if it was worthwhile trying to get him inside. I needed to go toe to toe with my father and it wasn’t fair to involve someone else.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
He only nodded, a man of few words.
I nodded back at him, answering the thought that occurred to me and one I’m sure he sent.
Be safe.
“I will.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
I’d had about as much drama as I could stand
I made my way to the staging area, passing the dressers who carried the trains. They were so heavy they required two dressers per duchess. In addition, each duchess had a friend or servant to help with her makeup, bring her something to eat or drink, and overall be her companion during the long hours between the coronation ceremony in the auditorium and the presentation at the Arneson River theater.
Thankfully, the trains were detachable so the poor duchess didn’t have to drag the thing around for hours.
It had been a decade since I’d been a duchess, but I still remembered all of the pomp and ceremony of the coronation.
I had been terrified I was going to fall down and make an idiot of myself. Or be selected as Queen. That would mean that I’d have to attend activities for the whole year and be on the Brotherhood of the Alamo float for both the Battle of Flowers Parade and the Fiesta Flambeau. Thankfully, my participation ended on the night of the coronation. Some other poor soul had been selected.
As a Boyd, I should have been Queen. No doubt rumors of my rebellious nature preceded me. Or it could simply have been my father’s nod to the judges. I didn’t doubt that either one had happened. I was grateful that my father had been annoyed with me at the time.
When wasn’t he?
I looked for my sister, but I couldn’t see her, which was fine. It was better that she didn’t witness this confrontation.
I found my father at the head of the staging area, talking to the master of ceremonies. He was giving the man instructions, of course. No one could do his job without Hamish Boyd telling him how to do it.
I stood there for a moment, studying him. My father was tall, with broad shoulders and a leonine mane of white hair that made his tan look great. His eyes were bright blue. I had the same color, but my gaze was never as intent as his.
Tonight he was wearing the black and scarlet uniform of the Brotherhood of the Alamo complete with trousers with a gold stripe on the outside seam, gold fringed epaulettes on his shoulders, and gold buttons bearing the shield of the organization marching down his jacket. He looked like a militaristic king, someone who could simply say the command and it was done.
That wasn’t far from the truth.
At the moment he was pointing to something on a piece of paper, the words inaudible from here. But I’d heard that stentorian tone only too often. Do this, do that. Don’t do this. Don’t do that.
Look at me.
He did just that, his eyes widening slightly. But then, even that expression of involuntary surprise disappeared. He evidently didn’t expect me. What? To be alive? Or to be here?
I strode toward him, my eyes never leaving his face. I don’t know what he saw there, but it was something new, something that made him stiffen and straighten his shoulders. A confrontational stance, one I recognized.
My father had never before prepared himself for an encounter with a woman. He was, after all, Hamish Boyd, master of all he surveyed.
When I was two feet away from him, I stopped.
“Did you try to kill me?”
His frown could have been easily feigned. I wasn’t fooled.
“Well, did you?”
“Good evening, Torrance. I’m surprised to see you here. Have you greeted Sandy? She looks beautiful, I’m sure you’ll agree.”
“Well?”
He turned away. “If you have a comment about the presentation, about the events of the next hour, then I will entertain you. If not, then I suggest any further communication between us be held to a more appropriate time.”
When I was a little girl that tone could terrify me. Right now it had absolutely no effect.
“Now, Father,” I said, surprised that my voice wasn’t trembling. “Did you try to kill me?”
He turned back, his face formed into a mask of offended propriety.
“Here’s the truth, Torrance. You’ve been a boil on my ass since you were ten years old. If you haven’t broken every rule, you’ve bent them beyond recognition. You’ve slandered me and rebuffed me and gone behind my back to attempt to sway your sister and your mother to your way of thinking. But I have no idea what you’re talking about and I certainly wouldn’t try to end your life. Like it or not, you’re my daughter.”
Like it or not?
I caught something in my peripheral vision, and then a shadow flew past. I turned to see Mark holding Duncan against the wall, pinning him with one hand at his throat.
Wow, Mark was one fast Were.
Craig’s brother had certainly matured in eight years. He was almost as handsome as Craig, which is why I could understand his appeal to my sister. Too bad his character sucked.
Why had he tried to attack me? On orders from my father? That annoyed me so much that when my father made a movement with his hand I lunged at him, only to be tackled.
I was down on the stone floor looking up at the ceiling, Craig standing above me.
Ouch.
“Let her up,” Mark said.
Since he still had his hand on Duncan’s throat, my father should have given the command for Mark to release him. He didn’t. Mark was threatening a Palmer, not a Boyd. What did he care?
Really, how much was one female Furry supposed to tolerate?
I was damned tired of all the posturing and the hormonal instability of the males in my life — Mark excepted.
I reached out, grabbed Craig’s ankle, and with a twist, threw him to the floor. Hard, wasn’t it? He scrambled to his feet, but so did I. Before anyone could come to his aid, I stood, grabbed a fistful of his silk shirt and threw him down again.
This time I put one sneakered foot on his hip to hold him there.
He sneered at me. What an absolute idiot.
I swear, my foot slipped. Just a little upward, that’s all. Craig’s eyes widened, then his face reddened as he drew his legs up, his hands cupped around his precious manhood.
Too bad we were nearly a month away from the Hunt. I’d like to see what he looked like when he changed. Not nearly as erect as he’d been in the past. Maybe just a teensy bit crooked.
Just for grins I kept my foot on his thigh.
I looked at my father.
“Are you sick?” I asked, non too gently. “Is that why you’re leaving the Council?”
One of his imperious eyebrows rose.
“I’m not leaving the Council. What fool told you that?”
“A Palmer,” I said.
His lip curled in a universal gesture of contempt.
“We’ve decided to expand the Council, make a few positions available to those who could help us understand the newer generation.”
Wow, that was far sighted of them. It was only about forty years late.
“And Craig thought he could be on the Council?”
“No, he didn’t. I told him he wouldn’t be considered.”
It was time for my eyebrows to wing upward. “Really? Why?”
“Because you refused him. You’ve always had good instincts, Torrance. You haven’t always acted wisely on them, but in this instance I trusted you.”
Wow, part three.
“Did he think that if we got back together it would change your mind?”
“Evidently,” my father said.
“What an idiot. Once a Boyd decides something, it’s decided.”
“Exactly,” he said, startling me by smiling.
“So who tried to kill me?”
If he admitted to trying to kill me, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I couldn't kill my own father.
“It was Craig,” Duncan said, his voice tense. “He was pissed, Torrance.”
Mark was still holding him with one hand. I glanced at Duncan. He didn’t look away. I had to congratulate him on his courage. I wasn’t feeling all that warm and fuzzy about his entire family right now.
Maybe his character didn’t suck that badly after all.
“Talk,” I said.
“Joey told him you’d won the lottery and he was angry,” Duncan said, not looking at his brother. Instead, he kept glancing at the stage area. Maybe the attraction wasn’t one sided. Yay, Sandy.
“Angry enough to kill me? What good would that have done?” I stared down at the son of a bitch below my shoe.
“You wouldn’t mate,” Craig said, his voice sounding a little high pitched and breathy. “If you had I wouldn’t have done anything to you.”
“Yeah, right.” Like I believed that. The first time I did something he didn’t approve of it would be off with my head.
“You’ve never been a normal female. Winning the lottery would have made you even weirder. You didn’t deserve to be a Were.”
“And you thought you’d please my father by eliminating me, is that it?”
Oops, my foot slipped again.
This time, even Duncan winced.
“That would not have pleased me, Torrance.”
I glanced at my father. If he hadn’t known about the lottery before he certainly did now. Yet he didn’t look repulsed.
Mark met my father’s impressive scowl and didn’t look away. Chalk another one up to Mark. I sent him a smile.
“Did you give Craig orders to kill me?” I asked my father.
“I did not.”
He surprised me by not launching into a lecture.
“We need to do something about Craig,” I said.
“Do you want me to issue orders to kill him, Torrance?”
I stared at him. Up until this moment I had no idea my father was a Mafia don. Okay, maybe he wasn’t the Mafia, exactly, but orders to kill him? Did he do that sort of thing?
“No, don’t kill him,” I said. “Banish him.”
That would put a crimp in Craig’s Conquer the World plans. He’d be stripped of the Luna Lodge and have to start over, this time with the stigma of being banished by his alpha hanging over him.
Craig was smart enough not to say anything. My foot was still too close to the family jewels.
My father nodded. “There’s a clan in Saskatchewan that owes me a favor. They’ll take him.”
I was on a roll and heady with victory. As long as I was doing so well I decided to push my luck.
“Another point, Father. Every woman in your family is allowed to walk beside you now, not behind you.”
At his frown, I smiled. “You’re a Boyd. One of the first families. You can do anything and the other families will follow your lead. It’s time, Father. There’s been enough misogyny. In fact, they can call it Boyd’s Law.”
He looked like he approved of that idea.
“You’ll be hailed for thinking like a 21st century leader.”
He nodded again. All right, we were getting somewhere.
“While you’re at it, apologize once in awhile.”
His eyebrow winged upward.
“Everybody makes mistakes, Father. You can say so from time to time. Start small, build up.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, surprising me. “If I’ve led you to think I would kill you. I would never do such a thing to my own child. Especially one who shows such promise.”
I blinked at him.
His smile was unexpected, but not as much as his next words. “I think you should take a place on the Council.”
“What?” I could only stare at him.
“You have skills that would be an asset to the community, to the Council.”
I was in the middle of an earthquake, a tidal wave, a cataclysmic natural disaster. My world was being tipped on its axis.
“There’s never been a female Were on the Council,” I said.
“Then the first should be a Boyd.”
I couldn’t breathe. I wondered if his offer had anything to do with my winning the lottery.
I can’t say that I was ever afraid of my father, but we’ve always had an adversarial relationship. It was easier for me just to avoid him if at all possible. Maybe that would change after tonight.
“All right,” I said. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with my practice.”
“It will not.”
“Okay,” I said, taking my foot off Craig. I looked at Mark and nodded. He released Duncan.
I’d take my place on the Council, but I’d try to be wise and just. I wasn’t going to be as autocratic as my father had been. One ass in the family was enough.
I watched as Craig got to his knees. He took a few slow steps away from me.
Sandy appeared in the doorway to the stage, somewhat hampered by her train. But she managed to get to Duncan, enveloping him with both arms as she sent me an irritated look.
Around us, Fiesta played out in musical splendor. The crowd gasped and applauded as the Court of the Brotherhood of the Alamo turned to display the trains of their magnificent gowns.
As for me? I’d had about as much drama as I could stand.
I wanted to go home, close the door, and lock the world away.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Is it time? Is it?
On the way home I did a mental evaluation of the evening. Let’s see what I’ve learned.
My father might actually be pulled, kicking and screaming, into the 21st century. I’m not sure how happy the other females of my clan would be. If you’re kept in a cage for most of your life you become us
ed to it. It’s familiar. It’s safe. When the door opens, you don’t immediately bound outside. You take your freedom one step at a time. I had a feeling Sandy and my mother were going to be like that.
I, for one, was satisfied with the concessions and more than a little eager to attend my first Council meeting.
Joey was a slob and I’d never again have him as a houseguest. In fact, if I never saw him again I’d be a happy Furry.
Mark could kiss like a demon.
I hope to God Craig liked the cold.
Duncan might be an okay guy for my sister.
I needed a car.
I was a super strong female Were thanks to my new Pranic blood. I couldn’t wait to see what other abilities I acquired.
Have I mentioned that Mark kissed like a demon?
He turned off his car in front of my house. For a moment, neither one of us said anything.
“I expect you’re tired,” he finally said.
“Surprisingly, I’m not. I feel like I’ve been given a second wind. Or maybe a third.”
Besides, I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to know about his clan, his transformation, and everything else. My curiosity about him was second only to my, well, lust.
I’m normally more demure. Okay, maybe not demure but certainly not predatory.
Weres didn’t have one night stands. We didn’t hook up. Most of the time relationships were formed after years of knowing each other. Our families were friends. We grew up racing around picnic grounds, teasing each other, being children together until one day we started noticing the opposite sex.
I didn’t know that Mark existed last week. I didn’t know his family. I hadn’t been counseled by his mother. I didn’t even know if he had any sisters.
For me to be feeling anything at all at this point was a big deal. I was probably breaking another dozen Furry rules.
“You’ve had an exciting evening,” he softly said.
“I have a feeling that I’m going to have a lot of those.”
He smiled. “You might.”
“I should be sleepy, but I’m not. I have occasional insomnia.”