I wanted a quick escape route.
Bran looked at me, the question written on his face. I undid the seatbelt and laid my head back, closing my eyes. It was hard to find the words, much less force them into a coherent sentence through the exhaustion.
“This is going to be…difficult. Outsiders aren’t usually allowed anywhere near the farm, much less to a funeral.”
“I’m sure there’s a nice little cemetery out back to hide the bodies.” His grin disappeared as he saw my serious expression. “Right. And you’re bringing me here.”
“And I’m bringing you.” I stared at a particularly menacing pickup truck across from us, the red-and-orange flames flaring out from the jet-black paint. “But, as I’ve been reminded many times, I was outcast and thus create a rather interesting predicament as far as the rules go. I’m sworn to the Pride’s laws as much as I want to be.”
“Sorta like being Catholic.” Bran laughed.
“Exactly. Think of yourself as one of those heathen Protestants walking into a group of rabid Catholics.” I opened my eyes and reached into my jacket pocket and handed him my Taser. “If anything happens, anything—use this, get back here to the car and run.” I took the keys out of the ignition and put them into his hand. “Don’t worry about me. They won’t kill me.”
“You think.” He tilted his head to one side. “Like you said, you’re a bit of a special case.”
“True. They may beat me up but they won’t kill me.” I kissed him lightly on the lips. “And if anything happens, please take care of Jazz. She’s old and grumpy, but she’s like a little sister to me.”
Before he could respond, I opened the car door and hopped out. My feet began crunching on the gravel as I walked toward the main house. To one side stood the barn, once a pleasant childhood memory but now a crime scene. I’d never be able to think of it in any other way now. A stiff wind brought a thousand scents washing over me, filling my mind’s eye with images of people I hadn’t thought about for decades.
Jess was the first to appear, wearing a dark-blue dress that had gone out of style twenty years ago and was now back in style. She trotted down the steps from the porch and approached us at a goodly speed, intercepting us before we got close enough for our scent to be carried too far.
“Reb.” She hugged me, pointedly ignoring Brandon.
“What’s the word?” I pushed my emotions down again, fighting the urge to cry like a lost child.
“The service was held down the lane, at the chapel. Just finished not long ago.” She pointed back the way we had come. “She’s due here anytime to be placed in the graveyard.” Her nose wrinkled. “You’re pushing your luck, you know.”
“Nothing new there.” I stuck my hands in my pockets to keep them from trembling. “Have you done any more investigating since we spoke?”
“Yes. And you’ll find out soon enough.” She glared at Bran. “You realize that if you speak of any of this, even the slightest whisper, that you will be hunted down and killed?”
“I got that impression.” He rocked back and forth on his heels. “But thanks for the warning. And the wonderful welcome.”
“Don’t be. You’re still not out of here alive.”
“Someone trashed my place last night.” The words brought Jess’s attention back to me, where I wanted it. “Someone was looking for those files.”
“It wasn’t Davis. He hasn’t left the farm for days.”
“Are you sure?” Bran asked.
The steely gaze had broken lesser kits. He didn’t wilt but he didn’t challenge her.
“I’ll check on it.” She spun on her heel and walked away from us, back toward the house.
“Where should we go?” I hated asking but she’d know where we’d be best placed.
Jess stopped on the steps and looked back over her shoulder. “You should go to the graveyard and wait. We’ll be there soon enough.”
“Not even invited into the house? Rough crowd,” Bran said to me in a loud whisper as I led him to a small path leading between the main house and the barn. “Not even a cup of coffee? More pie?”
I took his hand. “No offense, but I’d cut back on the sarcasm for today. In fact, it’d probably be a good idea for you to stay as silent as possible.” My mind was racing through probable scenarios while we made our way along the stone walkway. “And, for God’s sake, don’t challenge anyone. Stay behind me and look as small and insignificant as you can. Slump your shoulders. Don’t stare directly at anyone. Don’t let yourself be goaded into a fight.”
“Because it’d be unsightly at a funeral?”
“Because you’d lose.”
Bran frowned as we approached the graveyard. “Don’t have a lot of faith in me, do you?”
“Not when it comes to these men. I’ve seen them take out twelve-point deer with their bare hands on a hunt.”
A small crowd was already beginning to gather at the far corner of the graveyard. The wrought-iron gates connected to the fence running around the five acres of land were open for one of the few times that I had recalled—more often than not Felis chose to be cremated and their ashes spread across the Farm fields to nurture future crops.
I walked Bran between rows of stone crosses that had been there for generations, some so old the rain had washed the names off, leaving anonymous white-stained lines no one remembered. When we approached the newer rows, I led him off to one side.
The slate-gray monument held two names. A stone angel perched atop with his trumpet pointed at the heavens.
Bran looked at the engraved names. “Your parents.”
I knelt down and pulled a handful of weeds out from one side.
He looked around. “Are these all your…relatives?”
“In a way.” I stood up and gestured to one side. “Plenty of history here.” The crowd was beginning to grow, people walking past us on the path. One man turned and glaring at us, his mouth falling open as if to protest. A woman yanked on his sleeve and silenced him with a look. She scowled at me before pushing her mate onward with a hard shove between his shoulders.
“Let’s go.” I took Bran’s hand and returned to the main trail leading to the freshly dug grave, slipping into an empty spot in the slow parade.
The polished wood coffin lay across the open space, suspended by a pair of strong canvas straps. Custom dictated that the Board members lower the body, with family assisting. With no one else alive on Ruth’s behalf it would only be the two men and Jess, all of whom stood before the grave.
Dennis fumbled with his tie, Jess scowled at the clouds and Davis nibbled at his fingernails. Around them the rest of the Pride began to gather, men and women dressed in everything from black suits to track suits and casual wear.
Jess cleared her throat, being the First. “Ruth Huckleton was a good woman. She cared for our young with the compassion and patience of a saint—which I’m sure was sorely tested by many of the kits she helped raise.”
A soft ripple of laughter ran through the crowd. I stayed at the back, downwind, with Bran behind me. I could just see the edge of the coffin. Nothing fancy, just a plain box. Felis rarely put money into fancy memorials and the like. The angel on my parents’ grave was an exception. Ruth had been the one to show me the small sculpture, paying for it out of her own pocket. “Your parents deserve something better than just that.” She had perched the angel on the top of the grave marker. “I’ll make sure they glue it good.”
“She was truly one of a kind. And she will be sorely missed.” Jess’s eyes sought me out through the crowd, somehow locking right onto me like a guided missile. “We will not see her type come this way again.”
She took hold of one of the straps. The two Board members moved around the open grave to pick up their own, wrapping the loose ends around their forearms. Two men stepped forward to pull out the wooden planks holding the coffin up, the Board men shifting forward in the upturned dirt as they took control of the weight. I sucked in my breath, hoping Jess would be st
rong enough to lower the coffin without dropping it. With only three of them it was a concern, the box wobbling from side to side.
The coffin began to descend slowly but evenly into the grave. A collective sigh went up from the gathered members as it disappeared from view. I stared straight ahead between the bodies, trying to see my old friend for one last time.
The three released the straps and tossed them into the grave after the coffin. Dennis pulled out a handkerchief from one pocket of his suit and dabbed at his eyes. Jess looked down into the open hole. Davis shuffled his feet and scratched his nose.
Jess suddenly spun around and grabbed Davis by the lapels of his jacket. “Why did you do it? Why?” she roared into the startled man’s face.
The dark-haired man tried to stumble backward, out of Jess’s grip but was unable to. “What? What are you talking about?” He glanced around the crowd. “I don’t know what she’s talking about!”
I moved forward, pushing my way through the crowd. “Jess! Jess!”
One senior spun around, gripping the hand of his elderly mate. “What—” His eyes went wide when he recognized me. “Rebecca.” He spat the words out like a curse.
“Jess, what are you doing?” I stood on the edge of the grave and watched as she picked Davis up with one hand, wrapping it around his throat and swinging the hapless man out over the gaping hole. No one moved. All eyes were on Jess.
She turned her head just far enough to one side to let me know she had me in her sights before returning her full attention to the terrified man in her grasp. “I went and checked the barn. I found the break in the ladder. I know you put it there—I smelled your foul stench on the wood.” The words came out in angry puffs, her Change already beginning. “Why did you kill her?”
Davis’s face went scarlet as he went limp, his feet dangling in the air. “What did you expect me to do? She shouldn’t have broken the rules!” One arm flailed out toward me. “Ruth did it for her. A misfit. She ignored the rules for her.”
“And you killed her for that?” Jess roared and tossed Davis to one side. The man bounced once, twice in the damp soil before he skidded to a stop. People moved away as if he were contagious.
“Jess, this isn’t anyone’s business but ours.” He got to his feet and stabbed a finger at me. “We should have kept it in the Pride. We had no need to call in a misfit!”
“That decision was debated and decided on by the Board.” The words were said in a calm, deliberate way as she rubbed her hands together. “And you disrespected that along with murdering one of our own.”
“No.” Davis shook his head. “No. She broke the rules and had to be punished.” His eyes raced through the murmuring crowd, seeking out someone. “She needed to be taught a lesson. I did what had to be done to keep the family secure.”
“You could have challenged her,” Jess snarled. “You could have brought it to the Board. What made you think you could do this by yourself?” She shook her head. “You knew there was a chance she’d be seriously hurt, that she wouldn’t be able to catch herself like a younger woman might. But you went ahead and did it anyway.”
“I had to,” Davis babbled. “It was for the best. We have to keep our business to ourselves.” Again he looked into the mob, a furtive desperate glance.
I spun around, looking for whomever he was talking to, but it was hopeless with the crushing mass now surging forward, a low growl beginning to emerge from the group.
Bran put his hand on my shoulder. “What’s happening?” he whispered, moving closer.
“The worst thing in the world.” I swallowed, trying to dampen the emotional rush flowing over me. The anger was building in the Pride, the realization that Ruth’s death was preventable, and worse, the result of one of our own taking the law into his own hands.
Jess tugged at her dress, pulling the fabric apart with ease. Light brown fur now obscured her front. The face was reshaping itself, the nose retreating inward as the teeth grew and extended past her lips. Her pupils became small feline slits as a tongue flicked out over super-sharp incisors. The scar on her face became more highlighted, the marred skin bereft of fur. Her ears became furred and pointed at the tip.
The thin dress fell to the ground with a slender pair of panties, leaving her naked. I heard Bran’s sudden intake of breath behind me even as the rage rumbled across the group around us, reacting to Jess’s actions.
“I Challenge you,” she rumbled at Davis. “Change, and defend yourself.”
He shook his head. “Jess, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t want to do it, it’s just that—” Again he swept the crowd, seeking someone. “She laughed at me, told me there were things bigger than the family, than our Pride. Me, a Board member.” He kept looking around. “I couldn’t Challenge her and bring it out into the open so I cut into the ladder, just a bit. It wasn’t supposed to kill her, just make her fall, give her a warning to behave herself. It was an accident. An accident.” He pulled at his tie.
“That doesn’t matter.” Jess flexed her hands, the claws now fully extended between her fingers. “You are charged with murdering Ruth Huckleton through your intentional actions. As Senior Board member I declare you guilty.” She gazed over the assembled crowd. “I will deliver the penalty.”
“What’s she talking about?” Bran whispered in my ear, his body now pressed up against mine, one hand wrapped around my waist as he stared at them. My head was spinning with both the rush of information and the growing wave of anger about to break loose.
“This is the Law. Pride law.” I forced the words out as Davis scrambled backward in an effort to escape. He found the exit blocked by a wall of waiting Felis, their arms crossed in front of them to form a living barrier. I closed my eyes, scenting the Change happening around us.
Clothing dropped to the ground, shirts tossed to one side as they all Changed. Most remained partially clothed since this wasn’t a full hunt and was more of a symbolic gesture than anything else—but the claws were real and so was the hatred running through the men and women around me.
Jess lifted Davis’s face to heaven with one claw under his chin and roared again. “Will you offer no resistance?”
The middle-aged man sat on the ground, not meeting her gaze. He hadn’t even tried to Change. “I call on the mercy of the Pride.” The words were whispered, but we all heard it. “I throw myself on your mercy.”
Jess stood over him and looked around the assembled Felis, almost all of whom had Changed. “Will anyone speak to try and save this man’s life?”
I was torn between two worlds.
The man who’d taken the life of my oldest and closest friend was in front of me begging for his life, his belief in protecting the Felis so strong he’d kill to keep the secret secure.
Letting Jess kill him would be Pride justice.
But it wouldn’t bring Ruth back and it wouldn’t give me what I needed to find out who killed Janey Winters. What Davis knew would die with him. Jess couldn’t or wouldn’t care right now, deep in her blood lust.
Pride justice had turned me out onto the streets decades ago.
Now I had to use it to find Janey’s killer.
“I will.” I moved forward into the clearing, leaving Bran’s warmth and support behind.
Chapter 13
Jess looked at me. “Rebecca, this is not the place for your childish prattle.” A trace of sadness crept into her words. “You are here as a visitor, not even as a full member.”
A murmur began to rise and fall as others recognized me, the discussion of my exile being brought up again. The Pride had been divided in deciding what to do. In the end it had fallen to the Board and no one had objected to their decision.
“I beg the Board’s indulgence to present the argument.” My mind raced to form the words and present them in as formal language as I could. I pointed at the man on the ground. “This man did what he thought was necessary to protect the Pride. That, in and of itself, is no crime. In fact it is expected and demanded of
each and every one of us.” I spotted a few furred heads bobbing in agreement. “The death of one of our most beloved members was, by his own words, an accident. He only intended to scare her into returning to the trail of complete secrecy, one of our most sacred rules.” A few more members began to mumble.
I raised my voice. “If a cub injures another one while playing, we do not strip him of his hide. We allow him to atone and make restitution as best as he can. If we believe in this, then how can you take the life of a member who has declared his actions to be an accident—a horrible, unfortunate accident involving one of our most beloved members, but still…an accident.” I spread my arms, hoping the submissive pose would win more over to my side. “Put aside the name of Ruth, adored as she was by all of us, and see this as it was—an accident—and punish him for that crime. Punish him but do not kill him.” I took a deep breath. “Mercy is not a weakness.”
Jess looked over and around me, her nose twitching as she tried to take an accounting of the Felis surrounding us.
Bran stepped up behind me, his pulse racing and fear radiating off of his body along with a certain amount of arousal. His hand landed on the small of my back, pressing into the damp fabric with a sudden tenderness that brought tears to my eyes.
Dennis approached us, still unchanged. He put one hand on Davis’s shoulder and looked up at Jess. “We have lost too much already, Jess. Let’s not add another body to the count.”
Jess arched back and roared again into the sky, her hands outstretched and claws at the ready. She grabbed Davis by the throat and lifted him off the ground, shrugging Dennis’s grip off.
“You have been judged and found guilty of a crime, of causing malicious injury to another member of the Pride.” Her free hand lashed out, claws finding vulnerable skin. “You are thereby stripped of your membership and banished from this Pride. Seek your home elsewhere. Maybe there is another group that would take in your wretched, pitiful soul.”
Davis dropped to the ground, his face a bloody mess. Jess spun around and advanced on me. She stopped when our noses touched, one furry and one not. I could smell the morning’s bacon and eggs on her breath.
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