The Road to Redemption (35 page)

“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?

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
brow 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.

“There’s no
mercy in a real challenge fight. When I take on Sinclair, I’ll need
to—”

“When? You
mean
if
you take him on.”

Sam shook
head. “No. It’s
when
. I’m issuing a challenge.” She took up
her fighting stance again, but Damien didn’t respond.

“Are you
insane?”

“No. I’m
fighting for my pack.” She straightened, glowering and not
appreciating the incredulous look on his face.

“You can’t
challenge Kane Sinclair. He’s twice your size.”

“Size doesn’t
matter. I’m faster. I can get under his guard—”

“You can get
yourself killed.” Damien put his hands on his hips. “No way are you
fighting him.”

“Yes, I am.
I’ve sent the notice in to Lycan Link.”

He shook his
head. “Your grandfather—”

“He knows and
agrees it’s the only way.”

“It’s fucking
archaic and—”

“And the Book
of the Law still allows it.” She narrowed her eyes. “Now are you
going to help me or not.”

He reached out
and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her so close their bodies
touched. “Sugar, you are
not
fighting Kane.”

Sam struggled
against his grip. “My name isn’t Sugar and I am fighting him. This
is
my
territory,
my
pack,
my
wolves. It’s my
duty to do what’s best for them.”

“And you think
getting yourself killed is what’s best for them?” His black brows
were lowered over his piercing silvery blue eyes; the look he gave
her was seething with anger.

“I won’t get
killed. I’m—”

“Sam!” He
interrupted with a growl and then kissed her hard, his mouth
crushing hers, enveloping her in heat, causing her head to spin.
And then, before she could react, he pushed her away. “I’m talking
to your grandfather about this.”

“I’ve already
said he knows and agrees.”

“We’ll see
about that.” Damien stalked from the cellar.

Sam cursed and
took out her ire on the punching bag.

Damien’s feet pounded on the stairs as he made his
way to Samuel Harper’s door.

“What the hell
is he thinking, letting Sam issue a challenge.” He growled the
words as he rapped on the door only to realize the man wasn’t back
from the doctor’s yet.

“Hey, Damien.
What are you doing?” Chris came bounding up the stairs, a look of
excitement about him.

“Nothing.”
Damien compressed his lips, trying to rein in his temper.

“Did you hear
the news?” Without giving him a chance to respond, Chris continued.
“Sam’s issued a challenge against Sinclair. Isn’t that way
cool?”

“Cool?” He
raised his brows.

“Yeah.
Challenges hardly ever happen anymore.”

“For good
reason. They’re dangerous.”

Chris
shrugged. “Sam’s tough. She’s the toughest Alpha ever. She’ll kick
Sinclair’s ass so hard—”

“But what if
she doesn’t? What if she’s hurt? Left permanently disabled?” He
doubted Kane would take it that far, but in the heat of a fight
things happened.

“Well…”
Uncertainty washed over the boy’s face.

“Fighting
isn’t fun or exciting. It should only be used as a last
resort.”

“But you’ve
been in fights, haven’t you? I’m mean, you’re a rogue.”

“Yeah. I’ve
been in fights.” He paused, recalling how the rush of victory was
always followed by a sick feeling, images of the dead still burned
into his brain. “A lot of them I regret.”