Captive Mate - Eliot Grayson Page 0,27
shoulder for decapitations, did you know that?”
I heard Nate snicker on Ian’s other side. Apparently he was feeling confident in Dor’s willingness to take the Armitages’ side. I wasn’t so sure. I thought he might just be indulging his hobby of fucking with people.
All the color had drained out of Parker’s face, but not in a frightened way: he had that white-around-the-lips look that I knew meant he was violently angry. As I’d suspected, he wasn’t taking Fenwick and Dor seriously. Oh please, oh please, I begged the universe. Please let him keep not taking them seriously and say something truly insulting. I’d regret not having popcorn, but on the other hand, I’d be too busy running for it to really enjoy the show. I could probably steal one of the vehicles before anyone could get hold of me. I might not be heavily muscled enough for this kind of fight, but that made me quicker than hell.
“This isn’t any of your business,” Parker growled. “I knotted and bit this little bitch months ago, and his ass is mine.” He took a step forward, reaching out as if he meant to take me then and there.
Matthew moved a step to put me completely behind him, which was nice and all, except that now I couldn’t see what the fuck was going on.
Ian stepped forward by his side. A low chorus of growls rose up, emanating from nearly every were present.
A slithering, whispering sound interrupted, and I peeked over Matthew’s shoulder. Dor had drawn his sword, and the Kimballs were taking slow steps backward, looking a little green around the gills. Parker and Matthew were right in each other’s faces, staring at each other like no one else existed. Parker’s eyes were glowing. The tension was thick enough to slice through with one of their extended claws.
Maybe they should just fuck? That compromise worked for me. Since they were both alphas, they’d probably kill each other in the process, and either way — well, I really would need popcorn for that.
Bill Kimball cleared his throat. “Taft,” he said. “This isn’t the time.”
“Give me my property,” Parker said, as if Bill hadn’t spoken. “Or I’ll kill you right here. That asshole with the too-big sword doesn’t scare me.”
“Mates aren’t property, according to the pack law amendment of 1807,” Jennifer said, her tone as smooth and pleasant as it had been when she was having a chat in the pack house. I could see why she seemed to have been put in charge while Matthew was out of commission. “You have the right to petition the Pack Alliance Council for a shaman to verify your claim. You have the right to then petition for a mediator to resolve any differences between you and your mate, should he refuse to —”
“Fuck you and the Pack Alliance Council,” Parker spat. Literally. Flecks of spittle reached all the way to me, and I quickly ducked back down again to let Matthew take the brunt of it. I shuddered all over. Gods, his bodily fluids anywhere near me again…I wanted a bath, a thousand baths, and I wanted to kill him. “The PAC hasn’t been relevant for decades. Go ahead and petition them once I’ve taken my mate and ripped you all to pieces. They won’t do shit, because my pack’s powerful enough to matter.”
Unfortunately, he was right. World War II had been the last gasp of truly international — well, anything, as it turned out. Machine guns? Fine, supernaturals could just avoid them, heal from the wounds, or live in more remote places. Atom bombs? Not so much. A huge coalition of supernaturals of all stripes got together, eliminated the existential threat along with a few dozen world leaders, and reorganized the world in the process. Patchwork local governments had been the result, and larger groups like the PAC weren’t all that helpful if you didn’t already have clout of your own. Not that I gave two shits about politics, but I knew I was on my own in the world — and so were the Armitages.
“And Fenwick’s powerful enough to matter,” Matthew said, his voice a raspy snarl. He was losing his self-control. Fuck. “You can fight me here and now to settle it while he observes to make sure there’s no interference. Or you can fuck off.”
The two councilors both turned as one, protesting — but it was too late. A challenge like that couldn’t be withdrawn.
And Parker was — stepping back? Wait. Alarm