“What?” Damien sat up straight and set his mug down with a definite thud. “Let me see that.”
Sam spun her laptop around and allowed him to study the screen while she stalked to the window taking angry sips of the drink she cradled in her hands. A storm was definitely brewing, grey clouds rolled across the sky while the wind whipped leaves and bits of garbage across the road. It seemed fitting; there was a lot of garbage being whipped around inside as well. Where the hell did Sinclair get off—
“The fucking hell, I’ll—” She turned at the sound of Damien’s expletive. He’d clamped his mouth shut on whatever else he’d been intending to say.
“I take it you’re not chomping at the bit wanting to take over?”
“What sort of shit is he pulling?” Damien was on his feet now, looking as incensed as she was feeling. Sam decided it was nice to be able to share this with someone; for a rogue, Damien was a pretty decent guy.
See? Her wolf whispered. I knew there was a reason we should keep him.
“It’s like he’s trying to chip away at us, one little piece at a time.” She shook her head, admiring Sinclair’s strategy even though she hated his guts. “He didn’t present his whole case to Lycan Link at once. They would have looked it over, cross-checked the facts with me and then dismissed him. This way, he keeps drawing their attention to us over and over, making them dig deeper, causing them to question minor details.”
“Risky,” Damien murmured. “Some might view it as harassment.”
“From some small time Alpha, it might be seen that way. But Sinclair has a solid reputation.” Sam walked back to her desk and stared at the computer screen. “Hell, a few years back when I was first taking over I even admired him. He was young, progressive, interested in moving with the times.”
“And now?”
“He’s a power hungry bastard.” She flopped down in her chair.
Damien sat as well and picked up his mug, staring at the contents. “So what’s your next step?”
“I really don’t know. I’ll have to confer with Grandfather first.” She checked her watch. “I have enough time to talk to him before he leaves.”
“Leaves?” Damien looked at her with interest.
“He has a doctor’s appointment this morning. We don’t have our own in-pack physician anymore, but there’s a human doctor with pack member status that we use when we have to.”
“So you’ll be taking him?”
“No. Florence gets the joy of that job.” Sam gave a dry laugh. “He’ll grumble and complain the whole way there and tell the doctor he’s fine. Then Flo will give the real story. She’s a godsend when it comes to dealing with him.”
“Your grandfather and Florence are…close.”
“I don’t pretend to understand their relationship. They’re more than friends, but…” Sam shrugged. “It’s between them. My grandmother’s been gone for decades.”
Damien made a non-committal sound, seeming lost in thought.
She sighed and hitched her chair closer to the desk. “I’d better print a copy of this and go read it to Grandfather. He can mull it over while on his way to the doctor’s office.”
“It might cause his blood pressure to spike.” Damien warned. “I know mine did.”
“Mine, too.” Sam smiled at him, pleased he cared so much given that this was a temporary job for him. Maybe when all the takeover crap was done, she’d be able to convince him to stay. For all that last night she’d resolved to back off, in the light of morning she was filled with a new resolve. She and her wolf hadn’t totally given up on the darkly handsome rogue. The game wasn’t over yet.
Damien left the room cursing Kane under his breath. What kind of a friend shoved you into an awkward situation like this? Suggesting he, as Beta, should be in charge of the Chicago pack! Kane knew he didn’t want any part of belonging to a pack, let alone being in charge of one. Sure, Kane had sound reasons for wanting control of the territory, but Damien didn’t want to be in the middle of the fight. His only job was to give a report now and then.
Guilt twisted his stomach as he considered the fact that without his reports Kane’s case might not be as strong. Of course, nothing he was reporting was a secret. A little digging would reveal that the pack was underpopulated, the Alpha old and sick; he was simply making it happen faster.
Walking into the kitchen, he set his now empty cup in the sink and stared at the worn and chipped counter-top. The Chicago pack was in serious trouble, even without Kane’s threatened takeover. They didn’t have the finances to fix up the pack house, or have enough members to keep going beyond this current generation. The influx of money and bodies that Kane could provide would actually revive the pack, right?
He rubbed the back of his neck wishing he’d never let Kane talk him into coming to Chicago. Riding his bike, a loner, a rogue, that was how he wanted to live his life. No emotional involvement, and certainly not being in charge of a pack. While other Lycan pups might dream of being an Alpha one day, it had never been his goal. All those people depending on you was not his style.
“Reno depended on us. And Beth,” his wolf reminded him.
“Yeah, and look at how I screwed that up.” He muttered. Guilt still ate away at his soul, no matter how anyone might try to convince him otherwise. And there was no way he wanted to be in charge of the Chicago pack. Time to set Kane straight on that one.
He headed upstairs to make his call.
~~~
“Quit? As in sell my half ownership? But I just started!” Elise stared at Kane, unable to believe what he’d said.
“You say you’re overtired. Then let something go. You can’t do everything. It’s not realistic.” He folded his arms and stared at her from the other side of the bed. Water from his recent shower glistened on his skin, dripping down his broad chest before disappearing into the towel he had casually wrapped around his waist. A year ago, the sight of his nearly naked body would have had her knees weakening, but lately she was too tired and too angry with him to care.
“I can’t do everything! What about you? You’re so caught up with impressing High Council—”
“Elise, be reasonable.”
“And, of course, reasonable is doing what you want me to do.”
“It’s the logical solution. You said you were so tired you didn’t want to get up this morning.” He walked to the dresser, pulled open a drawer and took out socks and a pair of briefs.
“Why do I always have to be the one to give up what I want to do? Maybe I don’t want you on High Council.” She walked to the closet and began sorting through her clothes, her movements brisk to give vent to her mood.
“High Council is an important job.”
“More important than the children and me?”
“I didn’t say that.” His tones were clipped, and when she turned to look at him she could easily see the muscle in his jaw flexing. He was angry, but for some reason she couldn’t resist prodding him even more.
“What if you had to choose? Our family or High Council?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Elise, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Oh, so now I’m ridiculous for wanting to be first in your life. Well, thank you very much. I guess I know exactly where the children and I stand.”
“Elise! You knew I was Alpha when we mated.”
“Like I had a choice in that.” She tossed her blouse and skirt on the bed.
“What do you mean?” He went dead still.
“Being an Alpha’s mate was never in my plans.” She stalked to the dresser and pulled out a bra and panties. Kane was standing a few feet away and when she looked up their gazes locked in the mirror.
“I see.” He stared at her, his face unreadable. “I’m sorry you find it such a burden to be my mate. I’ll make sure I keep my distance.”
“Kane, that’s not what I meant!” She turned to face him, a sinking feeling in her stomach.
“I think it was.” He roughly pulled on t
he rest of his clothes. “I won’t be home tonight. If you or the children need something, John will help you.” And with that he left the room.
“Kane!” She called his name, but he didn’t return.
A horrible, sick feeling swept over her, her bitter words playing over and over in her head. She’d never meant to say them out loud. How would she feel if Kane had said something similar to her? Tears welled in her eyes. Hurting him, really hurting him, hadn’t been her intention.
She tried to use her blood bond to connect with him but it was firmly shut. Was this it? Was this the end of them as a couple?
Chapter 28
Sam watched the muscles work in her Grandfather’s jaw. He wasn’t saying a word, his face white. Her grandfather grumbled and roared and complained, but this… This went beyond anything she’d seen before into pure unadulterated rage. She resisted the urge to back away like Florence had done, instead standing her ground and waiting for him to speak.
When he did, his tones were so low and cold she could hardly hear him at first. “Sinclair would dare to suggest I abdicate and let a rogue lead my pack? That the blood of a Harper might not be suitable?” His voice rose on the last word and his hand slowly crushed the paper until it was a mere ball. He threw it on the floor where it rolled across the carpeting, coming to rest at Florence’s feet.
The older woman bent and picked it up. She cast a glance at the other two before smoothing the sheet out. With a trembling voice, she read the words. “It says ‘Samantha Harper becoming Alpha of the Chicago pack is an unacceptable solution to the problem of an aged and chronically ill Alpha. The position must be filled based on suitability, not blood lines.’” Florence looked up, aghast. “The man is crazy. He wants you to abdicate? And to suggest Samantha isn’t qualified is ludicrous. Of course she’s qualified! She’s been in training for years!”
“Lycan Link doesn’t know that, nor does Sinclair.” Sam couldn’t believe she was actually defending the man. She wasn’t. She was merely stating the facts.
Samuel Harper thumped the arm of his chair with his fist. “Whether they know or not isn’t the point. They have no business poking their nose into our affairs. This is what I fought against for years—”
“Samuel!” Florence cut him off with a sharp word and look of warning that had Sam wondering what was going on.
Her grandfather huffed, his fingers clenching on the arm of his chair. “We’re not giving up the pack and certainly not to someone Sinclair has picked out. This pack belongs to the Harper family and no one else.”
“I agree, Grandfather, but they don’t.”
“Suggestions?” Her grandfather looked at her.
Sam’s heart began to beat harder and her mouth was suddenly dry. She had a suggestion, one she’d considered before, even started to train for, but somewhere deep inside she’d never believed it would actually come to this. Yet, her pack depended on her. Duty came before all else, regardless of any personal fears or concerns. She took a deep breath. “The only solution I see is…a challenge issued to Sinclair.”
“No!” Florence immediately protested and swung a shocked look at the old Alpha.
Her grandfather didn’t speak at first. Instead, he locked his eyes on hers; bushy grey brows topping faded blue, steadily staring into clear violet as if testing her measure. “Are you sure?”
She widened her stance and hooked her thumbs in her belt loops. Shoulders back, she lifted her chin denying the faint quivering inside. “I am. I’ve been training. I can take him.”
The old Alpha nodded slowly. “Then so be it.
Damien finished his call to Kane, feeling his friend now understood his position. Terms like ‘no fucking way’ and ‘I’d rather swim in shit’ had helped clarify his feelings.
“All you have to do is take over for a month, tops,” Kane had tried to persuade him. “Then abdicate and hand the pack over to me.”
“Even a month is too long, Kane.” He’d replied.
“And what else do you have to do with your time?”
“Not much, but I won’t be part of this.”
Kane’s voice had hardened. “You’re already part of it.”
“But they don’t know it, and I’d prefer to leave without a knife between my shoulder blades, which is what will happen once they find out.”
“A knife?” Kane had laughed. “From my encounters with her I’d have thought Sam Harper was more the kind to rip out your jugular.”
“She might do both,” he’d agreed, thinking of his little spitfire. Realizing he’d used the term ‘his’, he frowned. Sam wasn’t his and if he was thinking that way, it was all the more reason for him to cut out as soon as possible. “I need to get out of here, Kane. Itchy feet are a known failing of rogues like me.”
“Are you sure it isn’t another kind of itch? One named Sam?”
He’d snorted and denied the claim, ignoring the reproachful look of his inner wolf.
There’d been doubt in Kane’s voice, but he’d finally agreed to look at other means of wrenching control of the Chicago pack from the Harper family.
Damien tucked his phone in his pocket and hoped Kane worked fast because, no matter what happened, he wanted out before the week was over. He was starting to feel closed in. The pack members were starting to depend on him, coming to him with their problems, making him part of their lives. They were like the vines that were growing on the outside of the house, working their roots into the mortar, slowly covering the house until you couldn’t see the bricks anymore. Nope, he wasn’t sticking around to be smothered like that.
He walked to the window and opened it, feeling the need for fresh air. It was a dull day, the clouds a deep purplish grey, warning of heavy rains soon to come. His leg ached as if confirming the change in the weather and he absentmindedly shifted his weight off the weaker limb. Below, he could see Florence and Sam helping the old Alpha into a car.
Ah, the doctor’s appointment, which reminded him….
Leaving his room, he silently made his way down the stairs to the second floor. With the key players occupied, now was his chance to get his hands on the rest of Samuel Harper’s files and find out the whole story behind the power hungry Beta and, hopefully, how Dante fit into the whole scenario.
Just to be on the safe side, he knocked softly first then cautiously pushed the door open. The room was silent. After checking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching, Damien slipped inside. It didn’t take long to scan the dates on the files and pull out the ones he wanted. Within a minute, he was done and headed back towards his room.
“Damien!” Sam entered the house, calling out his name, just as he began to climb the stairs to his room.
He was careful to keep the papers shielded by his body. “Yeah?”
“Meet me in the cellar. I want to practise.” She kept on walking through the house, not even looking his way and he gave an inaudible sigh of relief.
“Sure. I’ll be there in five.”
The back door slammed and he wasn’t even sure if she’d heard his reply. Giving a shrug he lightly ran up the stairs to deposit the papers. More bedtime reading he thought to himself as he stuffed them out of sight.
Sam was waiting in the cellar when Damien arrived. Energy surged through her and she was bouncing on her toes, ready to get started. Last time she’d trained with him she’d been trying, but the idea of a challenge had only been a vague possibility. Now that it was real, she couldn’t afford to hold back.
She was nervous. Hell, scared was more like it, but fear was good. It made you work harder, think smarter. Only an idiot wasn’t scared. Real bravery came from being afraid, but doing your job anyway. That’s what an Alpha did and she was an Alpha, the Chicago pack Alpha, dammit, and Sinclair was going to learn it once and for all!
“You seem raring to go.” Damien gave her a crooked smile.
She didn’t smile back, merely nodding and taking up a stance. “I’m ready.”
He raised one br
ow but made no comment, stripping off his shirt and tossing it aside. Any other day, she might have taken time to notice his ripped body, but not today. Today she had a job to do.
As soon as he gave a nod, she attacked. Not waiting for him like she did the last time, she went on the offensive, the idea of saving her pack foremost in her mind.
Rapid quick jabs. Keep your guard tight and your fist up. Push from the waist and shoulder. Each hit to his body jarred her own, but she ignored the pain. Repeating the basics of each move in her head, she noted with grim satisfaction that she’d forced him to step back. Time to celebrate her successful technique later, though. Right now she was training for what could be a life and death fight.
A front kick to force him back, then into a side kick.
Damn.
Her speed was off and he avoided it.
Return to her guard position. Chin protected. Block his blows. Face neutral so he had no idea how his hits reverberated through her frame. Look for an opening. Swing the arm out and around for a hook. Aim a kick to his groin…
“What the fuck!” He avoided her kick, catching her foot and almost flipping her onto her back. Barely, she maintained her balance.
“What?” She paused, shaking her hair from her eyes. Half crouched, she was ready to attack again.
“Kicking me in the balls during practice is not part of the deal.” Damien glared at her, sweat dripping down his face, his breathing rapid from exertion.
Sam pulled her lips back in a satisfied grin, pleased her opponent was showing signs that her attack was taking its toll. “Fine.” She wiped the sweat from her eyes, talking between heaving breaths. “I’m ready. Come at me again.”
He lowered his fists. “What’s with you today? Hard practice is one thing but—”
“You’re training me to fight Sinclair.” She took a jab at him, but he nimbly stepped aside and shook his head.
“Yeah, only we don’t need to permanently injure each other.” He flexed one of his legs. Part of her remembered how he’d said that one had been injured years before and had never properly healed. Always know the weaknesses of your opponent, her grandfather had told her. She tucked the information into the back of her head.
Betrayed: Book Two - The Road to Redemption Page 26