THE COUNCIL DECIDED IN MY FAVOR. THE WOLVES and Clan Heavy abstained; the rats voted against me; the cats, boudas, Clan Nimble, and Clan Jackal voted for me.
Three days later Mahon came to see me. I was being bandaged at the time—the shapeshifters had declared open season. This was the fifth attack since I’d killed the alpha jackals. I was still winning but barely.
I’d kept Mahon waiting for about five minutes. When I finally walked out of our rooms, Mahon looked as if a storm had ridden in on his thick dark eyebrows. Derek was impassive and my two boudas obviously were wordlessly conspiring to murder Mahon if he took a step out of line.
“I want to see him,” Mahon said.
I stepped aside.
“You as well. I have some things I wish to say to both of you.”
I led him inside.
He stared at Curran. I looked, too. I kept thinking he’d wake up any minute, and I watched for the tiniest hint of movement, until I started seeing things that weren’t there.
“You aren’t fit,” Mahon said. “You aren’t a shapeshifter. You don’t understand us and you probably never will. This”—he spread his massive arms, indicating the bedroom, me, and Curran—“was against my better judgment. I told him so before. He has had many women. I thought it would pass.”
I watched him. If he attacked me here, I’d lose. I couldn’t take Mahon at my best, and right this minute it was a fight to remain standing.
“As I said, this is unwise. But he chose you. I respect the man he has become and I respect what he has done for us. And I respect you for standing by him.” Mahon met my gaze. “You may never be my alpha. You will have to live with that. But he will always be my liege.”
I felt like some pretender to the throne in a medieval drama.
Mahon leaned over Curran and touched his shoulder. “Sleep well. I won’t challenge her and neither will my people.
We will talk more when you wake.”
He walked out.
I WALKED INTO THE ROOM, CARRYING A CUP OF tea and leaning on my cane. Derek rose from the chair, nodded at me, and left without a word. I sat on the edge of the couch and sipped my tea.
Curran lay immobile, an IV dangling from his arm. He’d lost weight. Thirty pounds, at least. His skin was pale. It hurt to look at him.
I forced dread aside. “I didn’t have to kill anybody today. Remember, the first couple of days they were coming three a day, then two, then one. Today nobody challenged me. It’s late now, so if somebody does show up, your castle guard will tell them to come back in the morning. Maybe it’s slacking off.”
I pulled my boots off, wincing at the stab of pain. “Julie has appropriated your bimbo room. I made them throw away the sheets—who knows what sort of crazy crap is on there—and she has a new set. Black. She painted the walls black. The curtains are black lace. I tried to convince her to keep the furniture white, but I saw her carry a paint can in there, so I think it will be black by morning. It’s like a freaking dungeon in there.”
I pulled off my sweatshirt and slid next to him. My voice was soft. “That’s the good news. The bad news is that it’s been eleven days since you fell asleep and I’m beginning to get scared you won’t wake up.”
I held my breath, but he lay still.
“Let’s see . . . What else? I’m sick of killing. Doolittle says there might be permanent damage to my left leg. It will heal eventually, even if he doesn’t think so, but meanwhile it hurts like hell. He wants me to stop putting pressure on it, so he gave me this lovely cane. I can only use it up here so the rest of the Keep won’t see me as weak.”
I just wanted him to wake up. Of course, he didn’t, so I kept talking, trying to keep the panic at bay.
“Still no calls from Andrea. Jim is keeping his distance, which I can understand. Derek says he’s helping from behind the scenes, whatever that means. The wolves keep finding ways to screw with me. They’ve made me mediate a divorce. Well, they requested I do it, and according to Barabas, I can’t say no. It’s a Japanese couple. They were members of a small pack and married very young and had two boys. The husband was expelled from the pack under suspicion of stealing. The wife remained behind, because the grandparents had the kids.”
He lay next to me, warm and alive, and if I didn’t look at him, I could almost imagine that he was listening. I shut my eyes. My body ached. Doolittle wanted me on bed rest, but the boudas wanted me out and about, demonstrating that I was fit as a fiddle and ready to take on everyone and anyone.