Deadlock

Chapter Twenty

The last time the Alpha had come to town, he’d held his meeting in Franklin’s clinic. Neutral territory.

Neutral territory was gone. Blown to little fucking pieces, and the knowledge still grated. Alec wouldn’t let Cesar Mendoza set a toe across the threshold of the makeshift clinic, so John Wesley Peyton had summoned them both to the Roosevelt, to one of the hotel’s tastefully decorated suites, where they could mouth polite pleasantries before Alec made it clear that mediation wasn’t an option.

Except when the door opened, Alec found himself facing the Alpha and no one else. «John.»

«Alec. Come in.» He stepped back, looking tired and rumpled and damn near worn out. «Mendoza isn’t here yet.»

John had always been older, but now he almost looked old. Alec crossed the threshold, then waited for the man to close the door and turn. «If you’re hoping to talk me down, it’s not going to work.»

The Alpha’s jaw clenched. «On the contrary, the mediation wasn’t my idea. Cesar insisted, probably because he knows you’re planning to rip his head off.»

Funny how the guy willing to blow strangers up from a distance got oh-so-civilized when his neck was on the line. «He can keep his head, but I’m taking his council seat.»

John snorted as he crossed to the small bar on the other side of the room. «If he’ll relinquish it quietly and without bloodshed, I’ll consider letting him live in exile.»

Cesar wouldn’t give in, and they both knew it. No point in belaboring it. «After I do that, I’m taking the Conclave seat.»

The man choked on a sip of whiskey. «When you decide to get ambitious, you don’t mess around, do you?»

«Not really. No point in getting in this game if I’m not gonna play for keeps, is there?»

«I suppose not.» The Alpha gestured to the bar with an upraised brow and poured another drink at Alec’s nod of assent. «If you want to survive, you’d better have a plan for dealing with Sam Hopkins and Drum Hughes. They’ll be at your throat in a heartbeat.»

John Peyton would probably sympathize with Alec’s plan, but the Alpha might not have that luxury. Alec erred on the side of caution and nodded, answering the question without giving John words he’d have to pretend he hadn’t heard. «By the end of the week, the Southeast council will be behind you.»

An odd light sparked in John’s eyes, but he let it go and changed the subject. «Cesar is bound to appeal to your sense of family, since you’re involved with his niece.»

«No.»

«No, he won’t, or no, appeal isn’t an option?»

It felt like stepping off a cliff, and Alec didn’t care. «My future wife isn’t interested in seeing her uncle retain his council seat.»

«No, I can’t imagine she would be.» John drained his whiskey and set the glass aside. «I can’t say I’ll be sorry to see Cesar taken down. No one deserves the trouble he’s caused.»

Alec let out a breath. «I’m in this, John. It’s time for a change. Way past time.»

«As it happens, I couldn’t agree» A knock on the door interrupted his words. «Well, here we go.»

He opened the door to Cesar Mendoza, who stood there with bloodshot eyes and a too-pleasant smile. «Good to see you again, John.»

«Cesar.» The Alpha’s dour expression didn’t change as he stepped back. «We’ve been waiting for you.»

Alec bared his teeth at Cesar. The man blanched, though his smile stayed frozen in place, and he held Alec’s gaze for a moment before looking away.

«Sit,» John ordered. «Both of you. Alec, you begin.»

The suite had couches and chairs arranged around a low coffee table. Alec took a chair, one with its back to the wall, and waited until Cesar sank to a couch before sitting himself. «You violated neutral territory.»

He didn’t deny it. «No one was meant to be harmed—»

The Alpha cut in. «Your intentions matter less than the outcome, Cesar. You acted rashly. Don’t justify it.»

Irritation flashed in Cesar’s eyes, though he covered it well, and his concession was stilted. «It was a grievous error in judgment.»

«The latest,» Alec ground out, already tired of the endless talking. «For that reason, in front of our Alpha, I’m challenging you, Cesar Mendoza. For your seat on the Southeast council and everything that comes with it.»

The man tensed. «Really, is that necessary? Think of Carmen.»

Alec’s nails bit into his palm. «Like you were thinking of her when you blew up her boss and her best friend? Or like your brother was thinking of her when he damn near killed her with that fucking spell?»

Cesar floundered for a response. «I believe Diego knows what’s best for his own child.»

«Bullshit. I’m thinking of Carmen, so I’ll give you a chance to back down. Yield, and let the Conclave decide what to do with you. That’s your only way out.»

His throat worked, and Alec could practically see him considering all the angles, trying to determine the best combination of likely risk versus potential reward, and weighing it all against his pride.

In the end, that pride won. His dark eyes went flinty, cold, and he sat straighter on the plush sofa. «If you want my seat, you’ll have to take it. I accept your challenge.»

Adrenaline surged. Alec’s wolf flowed to the surface, so fast and vicious he was faintly surprised he didn’t spill to the floor and sprout fur. How easy it would be to force the challenge now. Lay his enemy low, with the stink of fear in the air. It would solve the problem. Soothe his pride.

It wouldn’t last. «Friday,» he rasped, still fighting the call of the chase. «There’s a place suitable for challenges on my property.»

«As the challenged party, it’s my right to choose the venue for—»

«I’m overruling your right to pick the place.» The Alpha growled, and power spiked through the suite. «The bombing at Sinclaire’s clinic is under investigation, Cesar. You’ve invited a scrutiny we can ill afford, put us all in danger. Be glad you’re getting an honorable challenge at all.»

John’s words cowed him, that much was clear, but the man kept his head high. «Friday. May I be excused?»

«Get out.»

Cesar all but fled, and John rubbed his hands over his face as the door closed behind him. «Christ, what a catastrophe.»

Alec had been so busy cleaning up the mess, he hadn’t had time to check in with the human investigation. «How bad is the exposure?»

«Nowhere near what it could have been. Right now, it’s little more than vandalism. If the police knew Franklin was there or — God forbid — his girlfriend, the assistant District Attorney…» His weary sigh said it all. «We can’t afford to act like petulant children when we don’t get our way. We can’t afford people like that on our ruling councils.»

He sounded so tired, so defeated. Alec rose, took both of their glasses to the bar and reached for the whiskey. «They’ve been getting their own way for a long time. Maybe they can tell something’s about to give.»

«Is it?»

«Hasn’t it already?» Alec brought the Alpha his glass. «Enrica Maglieri is the first woman to sit on the Conclave. A turned wolf of two years defeated a Conclave member in a fight. The Seer has a child and isn’t living under their thumb anymore. The old guard has to be in a panic.»

«The old guard, as you call it, will fight to the death to preserve what they see as theirs.»

It was as clear a warning as Alec was likely to get, but nothing he didn’t already know. He lifted his glass and smiled. «So let’s fight.»

A strange black Town Car was parked outside Alec’s house when he and Carmen returned from the city. Carmen tensed when the driver’s door opened and a vaguely familiar man stepped out. «Who the hell is that?»

Alec shifted the truck into park and gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. «That would be Alexander Jacobson, Junior. My father.»

That meant the impeccably coiffed woman in the pink designer suit had to be his mother. She shaded her eyes against the slanting sunlight in an effort to see inside the cab of the truck and frowned.

Carmen laid her hand on Alec’s knee and attempted a joke. «Hiding down on the floorboard isn’t an option, is it?»

«I told you to run for the hills.» Alec carefully lifted both hands from the wheel and flexed them. «If you want me to, I’ll turn around and drive away. We can stay at your place. Or a hotel.»

«No. We’re not going to live that way, running from them until they give up and go away.» She opened the truck door and stepped out. «Hello.»

Alec’s mother was a handsome woman, with flawless golden skin and darkly exotic eyes. She smiled at Carmen as she picked her way across the uneven gravel, mercenary interest darting ahead of her on a wave of tight anticipation. «You must be Carmen Mendoza. I’m Geraldine Parker Jacobson, Alexander’s mother.»

The roiling emotions turned her stomach, but Carmen managed a smile. «Alec’s told me a lot about you.»

«Oh, now I doubt that.» Geraldine offered Carmen her hand. «It’s all right, dear. I know my son.»

The truck door slammed behind them, and Alec’s boots crunched on the drive as he circled the truck. Carmen felt his solid heat at her back as she shook the older woman’s hand, and she stepped closer as soon as she could, leaning into him. «Welcome to New Orleans.»

Tension vibrated through Alec. «You could have called.»

«I did,» Geraldine replied serenely. She lifted one hand, a deceptively casual gesture that had Alec’s father scrambling to her side. «Miss Mendoza, allow me to introduce my husband, Junior.»

The older man held out a hand and flinched when Alec growled. Geraldine pinned her son with a cool look, but her rebuke was mild. «Manners, Alexander.»

A tense situation, and it was up to Carmen to defuse it and maintain a veneer of civility. «Come on inside,» she invited. «I’ll make some coffee, and we can visit for a little while.»

«That sounds lovely.» Geraldine turned, then glanced over her shoulder. «Alex, your father would like to have a few words with you. Perhaps you boys can follow us inside?»

A quick squeeze of Alec’s hand, and Carmen released him. «I’ll see you in a minute.»

She led the woman up the porch steps and through the front door, trying to ignore the way Geraldine’s gaze seemed to linger on the beat-up furniture and bare walls. «The kitchen is just through here.»

«I see.» Though disapproval flavored the words, so did sadness. «He hasn’t made much of a home for himself, has he?»

For Alec, his house had been a place reserved for the times when he had nowhere else to go. «He hasn’t had much of a reason to.»

«I hope you give him one.» The older woman folded her hands together and gave Carmen a serious look. «I know you’re an empath. I won’t pretend that I don’t have ambitions for my son. I want to see him achieve his potential. I want to see him take the power he deserves. But I’ve never wanted him to be unhappy.»

«And when those ambitions run counter to his happiness?»

«Sometimes they will. The strongest among us make sacrifices. We should, because we get absolute loyalty in return.»

The loyalty they garnered was anything but absolute, and most of them were too much like Carmen’s uncle — ready and eager to abuse what they did get. «If you’re looking to me as an ally, I should tell you right now that I will never encourage Alec to do anything that goes against his conscience or his values. It’s just not going to happen.»

Geraldine smiled. «You’re not weak-willed. That’s good. I don’t need an ally, but he will. I imagine sometimes you’ll rather hate me, but I was born a Parker, just like the Alpha’s late wife. My mother was an Ochoa. Leadership and power is in my blood, and in my son’s.»

It would be easy, maybe even satisfying in a petty way, to inform her that Alec wasn’t interested in doing things the old way, that he didn’t believe a good leader’s abilities had to be intrinsically tied to his heritage. But there was no victory in it, nothing to be gained. Perhaps this woman had done the best she could, and perhaps power was simply the only thing that mattered to her.

It made no difference either way. Alec wouldn’t be fighting to bring down people like his parents — doing so would result in little more than chaos. Change would come slowly, born of struggle and difficulty.

But change would come.

It allowed Carmen to return the woman’s smile. «I can’t think of anyone who would do a better job than your son.»

«Then we are allies, whether you believe it or not. In that, at least.» Her gaze drifted around the kitchen and dining room, a tiny wrinkle appearing on her otherwise perfect forehead. «You’ll undoubtedly be busy with plans for the wedding, not to mention finding a place in New York. Perhaps you’ll let me hire someone to take care of the house here. A Conclave member really should have a home fit for entertaining.»

So many assumptions, it was difficult to know where to begin. Carmen took a deep breath and retrieved the coffee from the cupboard. «Actually, I’m going to handle that myself. But, if you have the time… I’ll admit I could use some help with the wedding plans.»

«I know just the person. I’ll make a few calls. Take care of everything.»

Allowing Geraldine control of one day out of a lifetime was palatable. Allowing her to decorate their home wasn’t. «I understand we’ll be expected to stage quite the party.»

«For a Conclave member?» The woman’s smile widened. «Oh, it will be the wedding of the decade.»

On second thought, palatable might be too generous. Still, she and Alec could stand it, and they’d plan their own honeymoon, assuming they had time for one. Someplace quiet, peaceful, with no one but them for miles in any given direction.

Walker Gravois was tall, dark and arguably one of the most dangerous men in New Orleans. He’d have to be, to keep up with Zola, but the lion had a further edge, one Alec recognized all too well from a decade ago — the alertness of a man accustomed to fighting for his life.

They’d all need that edge soon enough.

Alec stood next to Walker in Zola’s second-floor practice area, watching Andrew and Julio take swings at each other under Zola’s watchful eye. Andrew was damn near half a foot taller than Julio, but Carmen’s brother was built like a brick wall — solid muscle and unrelenting strength. Alec had seen him take more than one punch that would have laid anyone else in the room flat out, but Julio seemed capable of shaking off just about anything.

«Mendoza’s a tank.» Walker’s lazy words still carried more than a hint of bayou accent. «But his head would be rolling right now if Andrew wasn’t pulling his punches.»

Because Andrew knew where to punch, and when. Instinct, training — something had clicked in the younger man’s head, unleashing a formidable fighter. «This is half a year as a shapeshifter. Imagine how scary he’ll be in another year or two.»

«Don’t really want to.» Walker grinned. «One more reason to keep on his good side.»

It helped with one of the nagging worries about what would come with the challenge tomorrow. «I’m glad I’m not sending him out to get his ass handed to him.»

The lion sobered. «Still might not be an easy fight. I heard some stuff about Hughes. Real nasty shit.»

«Never thought it would be easy. I just need to know Andrew has a chance.»

«Oh, plenty, provided he can hold it together in an actual fight.»

Julio ducked a swing and backed away with a snort. «We can hear the deconstruction. It’s very uplifting.»

Alec had no sympathy. «You’ll hear a whole hell of a lot worse during an actual challenge. At least we want to see your punk asses make it through in one piece.»

Andrew kept coming, and this time Julio landed a punch to his gut. It wasn’t enough to stop him, but it gave him pause. Julio danced back, panting. «I think Callaghan’s ready.»

«What about you, Julio? You feel ready?»

«Why wouldn’t I be? Y’all left me the easy one.»

«Don’t get cocky, kid.» Alec took a step forward and snapped to get Andrew’s attention. «Enough. You need to be fresh for tomorrow.»

Andrew growled and spun away, flexing his shoulders, his breathing so deep and rhythmic it had to be a conscious effort to calm himself.

Zola slashed a disapproving look at Alec, moved to Andrew’s side and murmured something too soft to hear. Then she raised her voice. «Julio, with me.»

She disappeared down the stairs with the two of them, leaving Alec alone with Walker, who asked, «Got time for a serious question?»

He should have seen it coming. Anyone who had the slightest interest in the power structure of New Orleans had found a chance to speak to him over the past week, starting with his father’s awkward attempts at reconciliation. No one knew if he was going to win, but they knew they’d better be prepared.

Walker was more straightforward than most, and Alec appreciated it. «Worried about the new world order and where the lions fit into it?»

«You hold my marker, mine and Zola’s.» Walker nodded slowly. «Just wondering if you plan to do anything with it once you snag this spot you’re after.»

Alec hadn’t allowed himself to envision a world beyond Friday — not yet. «Whatever I do, we’ll all figure it out together. The rest of the country may not be ready for it, but it’s about time the wolves in New Orleans started playing friendly with everyone else.»

«I’ll hold you to that.» He offered his hand. «Good luck.»

Clasping the lion’s hand, Alec could only hope he wouldn’t need it.