From the Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel) (32 page)

“They are. But you’re the Beast Master.”

He groaned and raked a hand down his face, then back up over his hair. “I didn’t ask to be the damn Beast Master, Jules.”

“I didn’t ask to be a person who can turn into a dog,” I countered. “But I am. And as the only known chimaera, Race, the Beast Master is what you are, whether you like it or not.”

“I have no desire whatsoever to involve myself in shifter politics,” he retorted.

I shook my head. “Honey, being the Beast Master isn’t about politics. It’s about the nature of what you are. You don’t have to become the leader of our people—that’s a choice that is entirely up to you. But the fact remains that you have a power within you that none of us have, and even the most die-hard traditionalist is going to defer to you just because of it. You saw how Kevin Tracey reacted yesterday. You saw how my pack treated you once they saw what you were.”

It was then that I saw it—Race was afraid. The truth was hidden carefully behind his bravado, and I knew he was trying desperately to keep it from me. But I knew. We were bonded, after all, and there was very little he could think or feel that I would be unable to see—to feel with him. Race was justifiably angry over what had happened and he felt compelled to seek justice, but he was afraid of what it would mean. He was basing his need to challenge Kevin Tracey on his experience with vampires, and while there were some differences, he was essentially correct—we weren’t that different culturally. Realizing that in challenging Kevin he was risking taking on a burden he wasn’t prepared for or even sure he wanted, and having that confirmed by me, had frightened him. Race was so used to being responsible for only
himself that being responsible for even one other person had made him paranoid.

If he fought Kevin and won, he would be responsible for nearly fifty others by default—and that had him scared to death.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Listen pretty boy… I know that all this cultural and biological imperative stuff is still pretty new to you. And that it’s kind of scary. I felt the same way when I first started phasing. I’d advise you to give some serious consideration to either making a real effort at talking to Kevin rationally or even walking away, but I know how angry you are.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. “Do you, now?”

I returned the gesture and smiled briefly. “Yeah. And given how angry you are, even I can see that a fight is unavoidable. Just…be careful. Keep your wits about you, because not only have I heard that Kevin Tracey can fight, but I’ve also heard he doesn’t fight fair. He’ll probably cheat to try and win if he feels like he’s about to lose. He’s also likely to use a win as a means of forcing you to mate with Anna, which by shifter law he can do in that situation even if he’s not your Alpha.”

Race snorted. “I don’t have an Alpha,” he said, silently adding,
Except for you. I know that I’ve forced dominance on you, Juliette, but that doesn’t mean you don’t still rule my heart
.

I smiled.
Race, I think that, in the bedroom at least, I won’t mind so much being dominated,
I told him with my thoughts
. The rest…we can work out later
.

Aloud, I added, “I have every faith in you that you will win the challenge, Race. Kevin Tracey may be strong and devious, but you’re younger, you’re faster, and you have righteous anger on your side. Winning means that whether you want the responsibility or not, you’re going to become the Alpha to a pack of werewolves. So what you need to do in what little time is left before we get to Dayton is ask yourself this question:

“What kind of Alpha do you want to be?”

Both of us grew quiet after our conversation. And although our talk had served to calm him some (that and the sex), I could feel Race’s ire increasing again the closer we got to Dayton. The tenor of his thoughts told me that he still wasn’t sure about becoming the wolves’ leader, as he didn’t understand how losing one fight that was not even about a challenge to Kevin’s authority could diminish the pack’s respect for their leader so drastically. After all, his conflict with Kevin Tracey was about his intentions towards me and his lack of respect for our mating bond—he had no interest in taking his place as Alpha.

He just wanted it to be crystal clear that threatening me was a major mistake.

Race mulled over everything that I had told him, about how he was already viewed differently from other shifters because of what he was. He didn’t think he was anything special, didn’t think he should be regarded any differently than anyone else. He didn’t
want
to be viewed differently.

But the fact remained that he was and always would be. Race reluctantly accepted that as something he wasn’t likely to change, though he was clearly unhappy with the idea.
And as he sighed resignedly, I sensed him coming to the conclusion that if he desired any respect at all from the two-natured community, then he was going to have to accept all the cultural aspects of being a shapeshifter that he’d grown up away from all his life, even the ones he didn’t care for or understand. He might well be able to refuse becoming the Dayton wolves’ Alpha if he won against Kevin, but Race knew that if he did he was putting himself and me at risk from further attacks. If he couldn’t accept becoming an alpha by default over a matter unrelated to pack business, then how could he ever hope to gain the respect of anyone in the shifter world? And not just for himself, but also the bond he shared with me? Another thing he wished to make abundantly clear was that I was the only person he cared to be with.

As we entered the residential district of Dayton that the
Traceys lived in, I could feel Race tensing beside me. He had the fleeting hope that maybe he could resolve the situation in a way that didn’t end up with him shouldering a responsibility he didn’t want, but just as quickly dismissed that as futile. He knew that the only way that was possible would be if walked way without there being a physical altercation, which I’d already observed was unavoidable given how angry he was. Race knew that just one look at Kevin Tracey was all it would take to set him off—he already wanted to smash both fists into the werewolf’s face.

As our ride was pulling up in front of a colonial-style home with an immaculately manicured lawn, my cell phone rang. I retrieved it off of the floorboard where Race had caused me to drop it earlier and saw my mother’s cell number in the I.D. window.

“Hey Mom,” I greeted her once I’d flipped it open. “What’s up? We’ve not seen Kevin Tracey yet, but we have just pulled up outside his house.”

“That’s actually why I’m calling, honey,” Mom said in a worried tone that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “He’s not home.”

I frowned. “How do you know he’s not home?” I asked, grabbing Race’s attention.

“Well, I got a call from Martha a few minutes ago—she wanted to know how you and Race were doing after what happened yesterday. I expressed my concern for the fact that you were going to see Kevin and she informed me he wouldn’t even be home at this time of day.”

“She give you any clue as to where he might be? Because we really need to see him, Mom—this isn’t going to wait.”

Beside me Race banged his fist against the window, his expression going dark as he looked at me and waited for news.

“Honey, I know you said you’d explain when you’d taken care of things,” my mother said then, “but I really wish you’d tell me what’s going on.”

I sighed heavily, then spelled it out in a clipped manner how Kevin Tracey had ordered one of his wolves to follow Race and I, cause us to get into an accident, and then kidnap me, after which Kevin hoped to convince Race to mate with Anna. He had obviously been spectacularly unsuccessful, and Race was determined to exact a penance from Kevin for the attack.

“Kevin Tracey is a damned fool,” Mom snapped bitterly. “What in the hell could have possessed him to pull such an idiotic stunt?”

“The wolf that chased us said he has some journals from an ancestor that claim it’s possible for the Beast Master to take more than one mate. Race and I think he may be related to Marian, the last known chimaera. Lochlan knew her when he was still a young vampire. She was wolf-born, so that part is at least possible.”

My mother snorted. “Well, that would certainly explain why the wolves, and Kevin Tracey’s pack in particular, are so damn high and mighty.” She paused, and then added, “Honey, does Race understand what going after Kevin will mean?”

I glanced at Race. “I’ve explained it to him. He’s not happy about it, but I think he’s accepting that he’ll have no choice, not if he wants to claim the right of fighting Kevin over what he’s done.”

“Damn right I do,” Race spoke up then. “So if the fucker’s not home, where the hell is he?”

Mom apparently heard him, for she said, “He’s at work, of course. He owns an auto body shop called Tracey Tire and Repair.
It’s on Gettysburg Avenue, and quite frankly its better you confront him there than at home.”

I frowned again. “And why is that?” I asked.

“Well, for one thing, according to Martha he only employs members of his pack, so you’ll not have to worry about normal humans seeing anything they shouldn’t if he and Race change form, which you and I know is likely to happen,” my mother explained. “The pack will serve as witnesses to the challenge, and they’ll make sure each party involved upholds their end of the outcome, no matter what it is.”

I nodded despite the fact that she couldn’t see me. “Okay, that makes sense.”

“There’s one other advantage to the location,” she went on. “Kevin apparently owns the adjacent lot, on which he had constructed a private gym where the pack could train to fight, both in human and animal form. That’ll be the best place to have this little showdown.”

Mom paused again and I heard her sigh. “I know I said it before, but honey, please,
please
be careful. I’d tell you to ask Race to avoid a fight if at all possible, but something tells me that’s wishful thinking. He’s going to fight Kevin Tracey and it’s going to be a violent, bloody mess.”

I shivered at the thought, knowing that she was voicing aloud the fear that had seated itself deep into my subconscious the moment I’d heard Kevin Tracey’s name in that alley.

“I really hope that the pack members there don’t interfere, and leave it between Race and Kevin as tradition dictates,” she said. “Race has a greater chance at beating Kevin if they stay out of it.”

“I know. Listen, Mom, I really better go. I want to get this over with as quickly as possible,” I said then.

We hung up then and I reached for the button to lower the privacy screen. “George, there’s been a change in plan. We need you to take us to Tracey Tire and Repair on Gettysburg Avenue.”

George nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” he said simply, and put the limo back in drive, pulling away from the curb as Race raised the screen again.

I quickly filled him in on what my mother had told me. He dismissed her concern for himself with a flick of his wrist, saying that she needn’t be concerned, because he had no doubt that he could take an aging werewolf even if the man didn’t fight fair. And though he denied concern about possible interference from other wolves, I knew that the chance they would aid their Alpha bothered him. Race assured me, however, that his only concern was for me—he did not want me there, and was worried that one of the pack might try to take me away while he was otherwise engaged.

I claimed his mouth in a fierce kiss,
then said, “Let ‘em try at their own risk. No way I’m leaving you to face this alone.”

When we arrived at Tracey Tire and Repair some minutes later, Race was out of the limo and storming up to the b
uilding before us almost before the car had come to a stop. I prayed as I scrambled to follow that there were no customers around. Race had slammed the glass door open and was already in the lobby by the time I caught up to him.

“Where is he?!” he demanded of the startled werewolf behind the counter.

The wolf tried to cover his surprise—and fear—with bravado, rolling his shoulders and saying, “Which ‘he’ do you want? You’ll have to be more specif—”

Race was behind the counter with his hand around the boy’s throat in the blink of an eye. My concern for him climbed higher, my eyes darting around to spot any of the other wolves if they came running to his aid.

“Your Packmaster,
pup
,” Race snarled, squeezing the wolf’s throat until he let out a choked gargle and then dropping him to the floor. “Where is Kevin?”

The young wolf coughed as he tried to catch his breath. “He’s…he’s in the gym,” he wheezed.

There was no need to ask where the gym was. Kevin Tracey’s scent was strong throughout the body shop; Race had noticed it as surely as I had, and all we’d have to do is follow it to him. Turning away from the boy just now getting to his feet again, my mate turned and headed through the repair bay.

“I would close the shop if I were you,” I advised him as I made to follow.

My mother had warned me that everyone who worked for Kevin was a wolf in his pack, so it was no surprise that the scent of wolf was thick in the air as Race and I made our way through the building, heading out a back door and over toward the large outbuilding that was nearly as big as the shop itself. I wondered if the boy—who was probably in his late teens—would have called over to the gym to let them know we were on our way. Not that it mattered, as Race slamming the door open upon our arrival was announcement enough.