Prowl the Night (10 page)

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Authors: Crystal Jordan

BOOK: Prowl the Night
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Solana's mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged. Antonio reached over and took her hand, their fingers lacing tight as they looked at each other.
Marcos rose to his feet. “I hope Ciri and Isabel recover quickly, and this leaves no lasting damage.”
Psychologically, he meant. Both women had awakened physically fine. He didn't know Isabel well enough to guess, but how this affected Ciri's mind and her emotions was less clear. Panthers had no magic to cure the emotional pains. If they did, Tomas would be taking advantage of it now, but there was no easy way out of the chaos his life was in. And, unlike the man before him, he still had his Pride.
Returning the younger man's nod, he watched while he turned for the door. He felt as if he should do something, but his mind couldn't grasp what that might be. The man had saved his wife's life, after all. But the thought of Ciri made pain shaft through Tomas, and he wanted to howl with the agony of it. If he thought for even a second it would help, he'd do it, but there was no end in sight, nothing that would give him back what was so precious to him.
“Wait.” Solana half-rose from her seat, and Marcos paused, his hand gripping the doorknob.
“Yes, ma'am?” Wary surprise reflected in the man's eyes, and he tensed as if ready to flee.
It was in that moment that Tomas understood the courage it must have taken to walk into this mansion. Marcos was outcast, one who'd threatened the Pride leader's mate. Free game for anyone who wanted a target. He must have known that there was always the possibility his brother's actions would be revenged upon him; he must have thought there was at least a chance that he might not get out of this den alive.
If his brother had been there, there would have been bloodshed. Given even the slightest opportunity, Tomas would have torn the man open with his claws. He saw the sidelong glances his cousin kept throwing him, and suddenly he saw that they expected him to hunt down his wife's attacker. He wanted to. God, how he'd love to unleash some of this pain on a man who so richly deserved it, but it would solve nothing. It wouldn't bring Ciri back to him; it wouldn't heal the breach in his mating.
The chair creaked when Solana sank back down. She seemed to have lost the ability to speak after that one word. Swallowing, her throat worked for a second. “I forgive you,” she croaked.
Antonio's hand came down on her shoulder, squeezing in support. “I think . . . we might consider revisiting your outcast status, Marcos.”
Stunned silence greeted that announcement, and no one looked more dumbfounded than the man in question. Marcos shook his head a bit. “I don't . . . I don't know what to say.”
“We'll find a room for you for the night. Get cleaned up, and we'll discuss it tomorrow.”
Marcos's gaze roved the plush surroundings, then looked down at his filthy wardrobe. It wasn't hard to grasp that he was thinking of how far he'd fallen in the time he'd been away. “I don't know if I can live here again, not with the memories of my family, but I'd like to no longer be outcast. At least I could leave the continent if I wanted to, and not be considered a dangerous trespasser in another leader's territory.”
Antonio tilted his head. “I understand. We'll review your situation and find a solution that works for everyone.”
“Thank you, sir.” Some relief showed on Marcos's face. No doubt his brother—perhaps both of his brothers—would have been hunting him to exact the same kind of vengeance they'd hoped to visit upon the Cruzes.
“I appreciate that you stood against your brothers and saved innocent women who are under my protection. That can't go unacknowledged.”
“Thank you again.” Marcos pulled the door open. “Until tomorrow, then.”
“Yes.”
Solana sighed when he left the room. “That was the right thing to do, but I'm not sure I want him to live here either.”
“We'll find a solution that works for everyone,” Antonio repeated. “We might find another Pride to take him.”
Diego crossed his arms where he slouched against the mantel. “Africa is looking for new members.”
“But taking in a former outcast wouldn't be the impression that Benhassi wants to give to the other Prides. He wants to show his Pride as unified, upstanding, and trustworthy.” Miguel lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. “A man who attacked a woman, a Pride leader's wife, wouldn't be considered trustworthy. Even if he regrets his youthful stupidity.”
Antonio glanced at Tomas, and he straightened, understanding the question in the older man's gaze. South America. He could bring him into the Brazilian Pride. Marcos had saved the heir's mate, so even if he was viewed as untrustworthy, no one would question the debt of honor that bound the Pride leader to admit him as a member. Tomas met Antonio's eyes, nodding decisively.
He might not be able to do anything about his situation with Ciri, but this he could do. He would have to convince his father of it, which would be more than a little difficult, but it could be done.
Dragging in a deep breath, he felt a small sense of calm center him—the eye in the terrifying storm his life had dissolved into. He had a purpose, something to do, some good that he could make come of this disaster.
He needed to call his father.
Ciri stood in the new room, which felt even less like hers than the one she'd shared with Tomas. The furnishings were the finest money could buy, lovely and bright in shades of cream and gold.
It was the night of the ball—the one Tomas had worked so hard to put together, the one where she would pretend that they were still happily mated. She couldn't bring herself to shame either of them by admitting the truth publicly. It was no one else's concern. For tonight, she would do what duty dictated. After that, she didn't know. Could she refuse to play the political game? What could they do to her if she did?
Her long sheath gown sparkled as she walked over to the window. She didn't want to sit down, didn't want to touch anything, didn't want to acknowledge that this was her room, her space, her life now.
Fog blurred the edges of the city's skyline, making it look like an Impressionist's painting. Beautiful, like the room, and just as ill-fitting. It was nothing like Tokyo, and her destiny was nothing like she'd dreamed. This was supposed to be an adventure with her mate; instead it had shown just how different, how ill-suited, they were for each other.
It seemed cruel that fate should do this to them. Neither of them were bad people, were they? They both did the best they could, tried to live the most honorable life they could, but those lives didn't fit together, not without one giving up all of who they were for the other, and that wasn't fair. Not to either of them. They would spend their days as Ciri had spent the last few months—resentful, hurting, lost, and alone. Separated from everything that was
her.
Antonio had asked her to meet the Japanese representative when he arrived at the Pride den, and it was almost time. A storm over Tokyo had almost canceled his flight, but he'd made it out just in time. It would be nice to see someone from home, to reconnect with that part of herself. Gathering her long skirt, she turned and swept out the door, along the hall, down the main stairs. The scents of Panthers reached her, the representatives who had come for the ball and summit. Each smell locked into her memory, distinct and individual. She'd found since her attack that her senses were keener, the wildness unleashing in a way she had never allowed except in the bedroom with Tomas. She hadn't bothered trying to cage it again. The feline side was one of the reasons she—and Isabel—were still alive.
The feel of life and activity hummed around her. It was odd to have so many in one place, filling the mansion with people and music. A small orchestra of musicians had been assembled from different Panther Prides, and Ciri was curious to see how well they played together. As usual, she was more interested in the art than the politics. The thought made a sad smile curl her lips. It had been more than a week since she'd spoken to Tomas, and a small part of her wondered how he was doing. No doubt better than she was.
As she reached the foot of the stairs, she tilted her head to listen to the musicians playing. Because she was straining her sensitive ears, they picked up the sound of voices coming from the Pride leader's office.
“Juan Ruiz was arrested earlier today,” Landon said.
Ciri's heart slammed into her ribs.
Ruiz.
One of the two rogue brothers who still posed a threat to Panthers in North America. Without thinking, she picked up her skirts and strode into the leader's office. She didn't knock, she just pushed her way in.
“What about the Ruizes? What happened?” Her cheeks heated as the people in the room turned to stare at her. Normally, she'd have run from being the center of attention, especially when that attention came from leaders of a Pride. Antonio and Solana, Miguel, and Diego and Ric all turned to stare at her.
Landon cleared his throat, tugging at his tie as if it were strangling him. “I'll . . . I'll start at the beginning. Juan Ruiz was arrested for petty theft this afternoon. He subsequently escaped while they were transferring him to county lockup.”
Everyone in the room drew a sharp, collective breath. Miguel gave voice to all their fears. “Did he reveal—”
“No. He overpowered a guard and escaped while being transported, but there was nothing in the attack to indicate he was anything other than human. The Pride's secrets are still safe.” Landon let out a breath, but his gaze kept straying to Ciri as if he thought she might explode.
She folded her arms. “For now.”
He nodded. “Yes, for now.”
“What do we do?”
“I'm not certain.” Antonio answered her rather than the human. “Panthers aren't above the laws of humans. In fact, we try to obey the laws in order to go unnoticed. Normally, I would try to arrange for this to be taken care of quietly, but he's no longer a member of this Pride.”
Ric swirled the liquid around in his champagne glass. He, like every other man in the room, wore a tuxedo in honor of the ball. “He could expose us.”
“Any one of us could expose our race,” Miguel replied. “He knows what would happen to him if he tried.”
“He's outcast, imprisoned, and grief-maddened. What does he have to lose?” Ric shrugged. “He'd definitely screw over the Cruzes if he exposed himself.”
Diego growled, “He'd screw over every Panther on Earth.”
Straightening the floaty layers of skirt on her gown, Solana groaned. “Every other Panther on Earth refused to take his family in after he was cast out of this Pride. No one wanted a disloyal family sullying their name.”
Antonio pinched the bridge of his nose. “That thought hadn't escaped me.”
Throwing up her hands in exasperation, Ciri said what no one else would. “You know what you should do, what every other Pride leader would already have done. As long as there's a rebel loose, this is a risk that will plague you. If your Pride is the one to leak our secret, you'll be held responsible. It won't matter that he's an outcast, and you know it. They'll say you should have killed him then, and hold you liable anyway.”
“I know.”
Though Antonio's jaw clenched and she knew she should shut her mouth, Ciri pressed her point. If this had been taken care of when these men were cast out, she and Isabel wouldn't have been mauled. There would be no threat. Maybe she wasn't the most powerful person in the room, but she was the most conservative, and they needed to hear the other side of this argument. She amazed herself with her boldness, but being attacked had shown her there were a lot more important things than worrying about making everyone happy. “You cannot afford to have the other Prides turn against you. One outcast's life is not worth your entire Pride's safety.”
A muscle in the Pride leader's jaw began to twitch. “I know this, and I'll think about it. You're not an impartial judge of this situation considering what Roberto Ruiz did to you.”

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