Kay stayed in bed until hunger drove her downstairs. Greta and Brett were in the kitchen. They both looked up when she stepped into the room.
“How are you?” Greta asked.
Kay shrugged, then slid into an empty chair.
“Let me fix you something to eat,” Greta offered. “What would you like?”
“I don’t care. Whatever you’re having is fine.”
“Pancakes, eggs, and sausage okay?” Greta’s smile looked forced.
“Fine,” Kay said.
“Whatever happens, we’ll all be there for you,” Brett said.
“About that,” Kay said. “I’d rather go alone.”
“Alone!” he exclaimed. “Why the hell would you want to do that?”
“I have my reasons,” Kay said, “and I won’t really be alone. Gideon will be there with me.”
Brett shook his head. “No way!” Rising, he pushed away from the table. “No way in hell!” he declared, and stomped out of the room.
“Are you sure, Kiya?” Greta asked quietly.
“Yes. I have my reasons.”
Greta smiled faintly. “I think I know what they are. Don’t worry about Brett. I’ll explain it to him.”
“Were you afraid when Victor challenged you?” Kay asked.
“Afraid? No.” Greta filled a plate with pancakes and eggs and added six sausage links. “I was terrified.” She placed the plate and a cup of coffee in front of Kay. “You’re your father’s daughter, Kiya. Your courage won’t desert you.”
“I hope you’re right,” Kay said. “But if you’re wrong, I don’t want anyone else to witness it.” She sighed heavily. “It’s bad enough that Gideon will be there.”
The hours until the moon rose passed slowly, and yet all too quickly. Kay showered, dressed in a pair of black jeans, then pulled on a bright red sweater to bolster her courage. She tied her hair back in a ponytail, stepped into a pair of black sandals, and she was ready to go.
Gideon, who had been remarkably silent while she got ready, followed her downstairs to where the pack waited.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said, forcing a confident smile she was far from feeling. “I’ll be back soon.” Whole or in pieces, she thought morbidly.
Every member of the pack came forward to give her a hug and wish her well, Brett and Greta last of all.
“We’ll be with you in spirit,” Greta said. “I know you’ll make us proud.”
Too choked up to speak, Kay nodded and hurried out of the house, with Gideon at her heels.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I have one stop to make,” she said.
He didn’t question her, merely fell into step beside her.
He waited outside the fence while she went to kneel between her parents’ graves, felt his heart constrict as she bid them good- bye.
Returning to where he waited, she said, “Now I’m ready.”
The Green Mountain Pack was waiting for her at the appointed place. Head high, shoulders back, she strode toward Rudolfo Rinaldi.
“I’m here.”
He glanced around, his eyes narrowed, his nostrils sniffing the wind. “Alone?”
“My husband is here with me. Are you ready?” She was surprised that her voice didn’t shake at all, that her hands were rock steady. And even more surprised to discover that she wasn’t afraid anymore.
“Where’s the rest of your pack?” Rinaldi asked.
“I thought this fight was between you and me,” Kay said boldly. “Do I need to call them?”
“No.” Rinaldi removed his jacket and tossed it aside, then cracked his knuckles. “You understand this is to be a fight to the death, with no quarter given.”
“I understand. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were stalling.”
Rinaldi flushed at her accusation.
“Hold on,” Gideon said.
Rinaldi frowned as Gideon moved to stand beside Kay.
“I know this is between you and Kiya,” Gideon said. “No one will interfere.” Holding Rinaldi’s gaze with his own, Gideon bared his fangs, knew his eyes had gone red. “But if Kiya loses, the next fight will be between you and me.”
“You have no right to challenge me,” Rinaldi said. “You’re not pack.”
“That’s true. But she’s my wife and if she dies by your hand, you will die by mine. Just like those two men who disappeared.”
“You killed them?”
“I did.”
“One of them was my son.”
Gideon shrugged. “You should have kept him home nights.”
Fury rolled off the werewolf in waves. There was the sound of shredding cloth and in the blink of an eye, an angry brown wolf hurled itself at Gideon’s throat.
Sidestepping, Gideon called up his own wolf, spun on his hindquarters in time to fend off Rinaldi’s next attack.
Kay stared at the two wolves. They were evenly matched in size. Had it not been for the difference in color, she would have been hard-pressed to know which was Gideon. Light on their feet, their movements quick, controlled, and savage, they drew blood again and again, until the heavy metallic scent of it permeated the air.
Excited by the scent of blood, several of Rinaldi’s pack members shifted.
But Kay had eyes only for Gideon. Both wolves were splattered with blood from numerous bite marks. She noticed Rinaldi seemed to be tiring. And then, from the corner of her eye, she noticed one of Rinaldi’s wolfs moving closer to the battle, creeping up on Gideon’s back, getting ready to spring.
She shifted before she realized what she was doing, a howl of anger rising in her throat as she sprang forward and buried her fangs in the wolf’s jugular.
Her cry energized Gideon. Fearing that she was in danger, he lunged at Rinaldi, his body partially shifting, so that his forelegs became arms. He sank his fangs deep into the werewolf’s throat, then ripped the wolf’s heart from his chest.
Before the rest of the Green Mountain Pack could shift, the Shadow Pack emerged from the cover of the trees, hackles raised, fangs bared.
“It’s over,” Gideon said, assuming his own form again. “Surrender or we’ll tear you to pieces.”
A young man with a slight build and light brown hair strode toward Gideon. “I am José Rinaldi, the last of my line,” he said. “As the next Alpha, I ask that you take my life if you must, but that you spare my pack. This was not their fight. I would not have them punished for my uncle’s misguided ambition.”