The Road to Redemption (26 page)

“Right.”
Another pause and Damien could sense Kane’s curiosity. Too bad.
There were parts of his life he shared with no one, not even his
closest friends. “So, you said Harper countered my claim.”

“Yep. What’s
your next move?”

“I’m
submitting that the pack is operating under false pretences. Old
man Harper isn’t really the Alpha anymore. You said yourself that
he hasn’t left his room since you’ve been there and the
granddaughter does all the work.” There was a faint creaking noise
as if Kane were leaning back in his chair. “
‘All packs that are
members of the Lycan Link affiliation must maintain honest and up
to date records of pack administration. This is not only for the
benefit of Lycan Link but so that there is a clear line of
accountability should problems arise.’
That’s a direct quote
from the Book of the Law.”

“It might
work.” Damien watched out his window as Chris walked across the
yard, returning home after his day at school. How would the boy do
under Kane’s administration? There’d be more pack members for the
kid to interact with, but Kane was strict…

“You still
there, Damien?”

“Yeah, sorry.
What did you say?”

“Nothing
important. Keep me posted as to what’s going on at your end.
Between the two of us, we should have the Chicago pack transferred
over to me before month’s end.”

Damien signed
off. By the end of the month Kane would be in charge, and Sam… What
would she do? Would Kane allow her to stay on, perhaps as a Beta?
And would she accept the position if it were offered?

She could
come with us
. His wolf suggested.

The idea
appealed. When he was around Sam, the flat dead feeling he carried
inside faded away. But in the end, he had nothing to offer her. Sam
was a pack animal through and through while he had no home and no
plans beyond this job for Kane. There was a physical attraction
between them, but his heart and soul were dead. No, he’d be leaving
by himself when this job was done.

“Hey, Damien!”
He could hear Chris’ footsteps thundering up the stairs. In a
moment, the pup would be knocking on his door, eager to work on the
motorcycle again. His mouth twisted as he contemplated how Chris
would react if his deception was ever revealed; the kid had
developed a case of hero worship. He felt like a bastard just
thinking of how crestfallen the boy would be.

Damien rubbed
his thumb over the phone and shook his head wondering how it could
be that, once again, he found himself caught in a situation of
divided loyalties and blurred lines of right and wrong. Did he have
an effing sign over his head or something?

Patrol that
night was tense. Sam didn’t feel like talking and neither,
apparently, did Damien, which was actually a good thing. If she
opened her mouth, she’d vent her bad humour on whoever was nearest
and somehow she knew Damien wouldn’t stand there and take it.

Instead, she
grumbled to herself over what she saw as her personal failures. She
hadn’t been able to pick up the trail of Sinclair’s spy. She hadn’t
heard back from OPATA, yet. Hell, she hadn’t even figured out what
Damien’s dubious friend had told him, despite the fact that her gut
was telling her it was something worth knowing. Add to that her
grandfather seeming preoccupied when she’d stopped by before
leaving…

She grimaced.
Too many unknowns made her grumpy. Being in control was important
to her, and right now she had the feeling that everything was
slipping through her fingers.

God, what if
she lost the territory? After a clear line of succession for over a
century and a half, the Harper name was synonymous with Chicago.
The shame of losing ownership could very well do her grandfather
in. And what would happen to her pack mates? Would Sinclair
assimilate them, or kick them out? It would be his right, if he
won. She gnawed her lip wondering who would take in Hiram. Perhaps,
his daughter’s new pack might consider him, but he was old, a drain
on a pack’s resources…

Her
grandfather had gone against tradition by training her and putting
her in charge. She couldn’t let him or her pack mates down. If
worse came to worse she’d issue an old fashion challenge, a fight
to the death if need be. Excitement and fear filled her at the
thought.

She could take
Sinclair, couldn’t she? Sam recalled the last time she’d met the
man. It had been when they’d been arguing over the fate of
Cassandra Greyson. The man was definitely fit. She flicked a glance
at Damien; he was of a similar build. Perhaps…

“Are we going
in here tonight?” Damien drew her attention to the fact that they
were outside Club Mystique.

“Is your
friend, Lilac Man, waiting for you?”

He shrugged.
“Maybe. I never know when he’ll turn up. And for the record, he
isn’t a friend.”

“Whatever. We
might as well check the place out since we’re here.” She pushed her
way through the crowd and, as usual, the bouncer ushered her in. He
didn’t try to stop Damien this time either. Her Beta did tend to
leave an impression.

“I’ll wait at
the bar while you look around.” She shouted the words in order to
be heard over the music. It appeared to be a Woodstock theme
tonight and the sounds of Joplin were blaring over the
speakers.

“Drinking
again?” He quirked his brow at her and she felt the mood between
them lighten. There was something about the man’s teasing that was
immensely appealing to her.

“Only around
you.”

“You’re not
the first to say that.” He chuckled and slipped into the crowd.

Sam watched
him disappear from sight and then made her way to the corner of the
bar, catching Tina’s attention as she approached. Tonight, the
bartender was dressed in iridescent blues and had butterflies
painted near the corner of each eye.

“Back so
soon.” Tina set a drink in front her and leaned against the bar,
twirling a strand of hair around one finger, a distant dreamy aura
surrounding her.

“Are you
buzzed?” Sam gave the woman a suspicious look.

“No. Just
trying to look the part. Tonight’s theme is the summer of free
love, drugs, and rock and roll.”

Sam snorted.
“Well, float down off your cloud for a minute. I need some
information and I don’t have long.” The music was loud enough that
she didn’t have to worry about lowering her voice.

Tina’s eyes
lost their unfocused look. “What’s up?”

“Another Alpha
wants to take over my pack. What do you sense? Does he have a
chance?”

“Perhaps.”
Tina stared off into the distance, her eyes unfocused.

Sam nursed her
drink and waited. Exactly how ‘Others’ did whatever it was that
they did, she had no idea.

Eventually,
Tina gave a shiver and shook her head as if to rid it of something
unpleasant. “A battle will be fought; the lovers’ hearts will be
like a phoenix, dying as the masks are torn off. The winner will be
the loser and the loser will win.”

“Say what?”
Sam blinked.

“I know. It’s
weird, but that’s what I felt.” Tina made an apologetic face.

Sam compressed
her lips. “I get the battle part, but ‘lovers like a phoenix’?”

“Have you
taken a lover recently?” Tina gave her a speculative look.

“Let’s say I’m
considering it.” Sam took a sip of her drink while watching Tina’s
expression. Delighted was too calm a word to describe it; the woman
was a romantic at heart.

“Really? Who?
Not someone from the neighbourhood.”

“No.” She
looked over her shoulder to make sure Damien wasn’t nearby. “The
rogue I hired; he’s…interesting. Hot.”

“Wow. First
time I’ve heard you say that.” Tina glanced about the room. “I take
it he’s here.”

Sam nodded.
“Tall, dark hair. Watch when I leave and you’ll see him.”

“Not going to
introduce us?”

“No.” She
sighed. “And nothing might happen. He’s hung up on his dead
mate.”

“That’s too
bad.” Tina made a face and then brightened. “Hey! Remember what I
said a while back, when you asked if there was a Lycan in the area?
I sensed he had two faces. Maybe it meant your rogue. His past and
his future could be what the two was referring to.”

“Maybe,” Sam
said doubtfully. “But I think you’re stretching things.”

Tina pouted
and then sighed when she noticed the other bartender glaring her
way. “I’d better get back to work. Gwyneth is glowering at me.”

“Since she’s
the owner, I guess you better.”

“Yeah.” Tina
picked up Sam’s empty glass and wandered off, her ‘Woodstock’
expression in place once more. Sam turned around to survey the
room.

The place was
more packed than usual. Rather than fighting the crowd, she decided
to stay in her usual spot at the bar and study the patrons from
there. She’d let Damien do the leg work. Besides, she wanted to
consider the information Tina had passed on—if it could be called
information. A poetic prophecy was a more apt term, but it was
better than nothing.

‘The winner
would be the loser and the loser the winner.’ Now what the hell
could that mean? Winning a battle against Sinclair would in no way
make her a loser; it would secure the territory. That was her prime
concern. And if Sinclair lost, how could he become a winner?

Maybe her
grandfather was right and she was a fool to put any stock in the
vague mutterings of an Other. She grimaced and shook her head, not
wanting to be as narrow minded as he was. After all, Tina was the
closest thing to a female friend that she’d ever had and the woman
had
been useful in the past. Hadn’t Tina’s vision helped
locate young Chris last time he’d broken curfew?

Spying Damien
making his way through the throng, she slid off her stool and met
him half way. “Did you find him?”

“Lilac Man?”
Damien gave a ghost of a smile. “No.”

“The
information he had for you—would it help me stave off Sinclair’s
bid?”

“Not
really.”

As usual,
Damien wasn’t being a font of information, but this wasn’t the time
or place to argue the matter and she wasn’t sure it was a battle
she’d win anyway. Sam sighed in irritation and brushed past him,
making her way out of the club. Dealing with a rogue was damned
annoying. She’d tackle the problem of Lilac Man eventually, right
now a more pressing matter needed to be addressed.

Once they were
in a relatively quieter location—if you could call a busy street
corner quieter—she turned to present him with an idea she’d been
mulling over.

“I want you to
train me.”

Damien had
been staring across the street, seeming to search the shadows. He
gave her a surprised look, almost as if he’d forgotten she was
there. “What was that? Train you? Why?”

“So I can
fight with Kane Sinclair.”

“Fight?”

“You heard me.
Hopefully, it won’t come to that, but I need to be prepared. I’m
good, but, as you pointed out the other day, there are areas that I
could improve.” She looked him up and down. “Plus, you seem to be
about Sinclair’s size from what I can recall. It would be good
practice for me to have a larger opponent.”

He didn’t
respond right away and she gave an impatient growl. “You can agree
on your own or, as your Alpha, I can order you to do it.”

“Order me?”
Damien raised his brows. “I’m a rogue. Orders and I don’t get
along.”

“Then I
suggest you agree voluntarily.” She placed her hands on her hips
and lifted her chin, her gaze steady.

“Damn, Sugar.
You are a spitfire, aren’t you?” He cocked his head, a hint of
admiration showing in his expression.

She growled at
the despised nickname he’d given her. “Well?”

He hesitated,
then shrugged. “Sure. I’ll give you a few pointers.”

“Pointers?”

“You’re good.
You said so yourself. It won’t take much to bring you up to
speed.”

His praise
created a warm feeling inside her. She didn’t lack self-esteem, but
it was still nice to hear that someone respected your skills. Of
course, she couldn’t let it show.

“Good. We’ll
start tomorrow.” She nodded across the street. “What were you
looking at?”

He stared
across the street and rubbed the back of his neck. “Probably
nothing. I think I’m getting paranoid.”

“With Sinclair
breathing down our necks, we all are.” Shoving her hands in her
pockets, she took off down that street at a brisk pace. They needed
to complete their patrol.

Damien lay on his bed at the pack house, staring
at the ceiling. It was two in the morning, they’d returned from
patrol around midnight, but he wasn’t sleepy and hadn’t bothered to
get undressed. Instead, he mulled over his conversation with
Sam.

She’d asked
him to help train her. Surely, she wasn’t thinking of issuing a
challenge; an old fashioned fight to the death.

It would be
suicide on her part,
his wolf fretted.
She’s good, but Kane
is twice her weight. Size alone gives him a distinct
advantage.

The animal was
right. It had to be nerves, desperation even, that had her thinking
along those lines. His stomach twisted at the thought of Sam and
Kane locked in a battle to the death and he quickly pushed the
image aside. In the end, she’d come to see reason. OPATA would
issue its decision based on clear cut facts and legal precedents; a
challenge wasn’t even remotely in the cards.

We could
play along, help her train
, his wolf suggested,
but at the
same time, make sure she knows the folly of her idea
.

He nodded in
agreement. Kane taking over the pack was the only logical outcome.
She just had to face facts, no matter how unpalatable they might
be.

What will
she say when she learns the truth about us?
The beast had grown
fond of Sam and had been nudging him about the issue all day.