By the Tail

know. And I’m tired of you treating me like I don’t have a brain. You’re my older brother, not my father. I love you, Miles, but you’re pissing me the hell off.” That felt so good to finally say. “Either you trust me to make my own decisions or you don’t. Which is it?”

He opened his mouth to retort when a loud knock was followed by the door crashing inward.

Miles immediately put himself between Joy and the threat. To her astonishment, Quince stood inside the door, bloodied and bruised, his shirt in tatters.

“I have something to say to you,” he growled at Miles. To her he said offhandedly, “Oh hey, baby.”

She saw her brother stiffen and sighed. “Miles, would you relax, already?”

“Why don’t you say what you came to say?” her brother asked Quince, ignoring her.

“How about this? Fuck off.” Quince stepped up to her brother and punched him in the jaw with such speed and force that her brother toppled and would have fallen like a sack of potatoes if Quince hadn’t caught him. He lowered him gently to the floor while she watched, trying to collect her thoughts.

“What was that for?” Joy stared from her unconscious brother to Quince. “I was making slow progress with him about you. But now it’s all shot to hell. Great going, bonehead.” She poked him in the chest and tried not to feel sorry for him when he flinched. He really did look like death warmed over.

“Come on. I need to talk to you. I’ll leave him a note so he won’t worry.” Quince hurried to her drawing table, grabbed a pen and paper, and drafted a message. Then he folded it and put in on Miles’s chest.

Joy bent down to read it, but before she could, Quince yanked her with him and hauled ass out the door.

She glanced over her shoulder. “But Miles—”

“Will be fine. Trust me. Dickhead has a forehead like granite.”

“Would you quit tugging me?” She glared at him, worried at the over-bright glare in his eyes. She put her hand on his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“Healing is all.” He grimaced when she dragged her hand away and accidentally grazed his swollen cheekbone. He stuffed her in his SUV and then jumped behind the wheel. After starting up the vehicle, he pulled away from the parking lot just as her brother ran out of the building clutching the crumpled note in his hand.

“You bastard,” Miles roared.

“What the heck did you write down?” she asked, staring at her brother.

Quince whipped the SUV around and tore down the street. “We have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it. I need your help to fix our problems in the pride.”

“You’re asking me?” Flattered he thought she could help—such a change from her brother who apparently knew everything—she nevertheless didn’t trust the fever in his eyes. “Are you sure you’re up for a conversation?”

“Honey, I’m up for a healing blowjob to make me feel better. I’m definitely up for some conversation.”

She blushed but grinned at him. “Then speak freak, and speak freely.”

Chapter Eight

“I don’t like it.” Joy scowled at the big baby lying helplessly in his king-size bed, his arms stretched out on either side of him as she treated his wounds.

“It’s the perfect solution.”

“No, it’s not,” argued Jace from the doorway to Quince’s bedroom. Ellis followed him inside, with Rain, Dana and Willow not far behind.

Quince’s council. Except for Oliver. That weasel.

“I still can’t believe Oliver turned on you. Man, I’m going to have a serious talking to him when I see him again.” Joy frowned down at Quince, who was looking none too happy at his council.

“Hey, I’m wounded. Why don’t you guys take a break for a while?” He nodded to the door.

“No.” Ellis sat in a chair while the others alternately stood or sat on the bed with them.

“This is like a big sleepover,” Willow said with a grin.

Only the fact that the pretty cat had never slept with Quince kept her free from Joy’s territorial feline. The way Ellis eyed Willow told Joy she didn’t have to worry about Willow being free forever. But Dana…

Joy shook off her cat’s low growl of warning and concentrated on Quince’s idiocy. “As I was saying, offering the pride to the winner of a death match—knowing your opponent will lie, cheat and steal to win—is dumber than dirt.”

“Yeah, what she said,” Dana agreed and frowned at Quince. “I mean, come on. Ayers had the nerve to ambush you outside your own home while he distracted the rest of us with bullshit. You can’t possibly think he means to play fair?”

“Of course not,” Jace retorted. “He’s not stupid. With us at his back, and impartial elders acting as witnesses, we’ll be able to end the rebels for good.”

“Don’t call them rebels,” Willow complained. “That makes them sound like they’re up against the Empire. And we’re the Empire.”

Ellis blinked. “Dear God, did she just geek out and reference Star Wars? Now I’m really in love.”

Willow blushed. Ellis grinned, and Jace made a sound of disgust Dana and Rain echoed.

Quince groaned and closed his eyes. “You’re all giving me a headache.”

“So are you going to mate him or not, Joy? Because that would help a lot,” Jace said, and the room grew still.

“How would that help?” she wanted to know. She glanced back at Quince and saw him open his eyes wide.

“It won’t,” he barked.

“Dumbass.” Jace’s insult showed the difference between Quince’s rule and Lex’s. Quince tolerated what Lex would have killed upon hearing. “Of course it’s the answer. You mate Joy, the only woman you seem to want anymore, and you’re looking stable as pride leader. So that’s one more step to qualification. Plus, you annex the Bermin name and everyone else settles down about you having a real powerhouse in your corner, even if Miles does still hate your guts.”

Joy stared at Quince, wondering why he hadn’t pushed that agenda. “Makes sense.”

He glared at her, and to her shock, a flush darkened his cheekbones, even under the bruising. “No.”

She couldn’t catch her breath at his flat out rebuff. “Well I didn’t ask you to mate me, so don’t do me any favors,” she snapped. So embarrassing, being rejected in front of everyone.

“That’s not the way I want it to happen,” he snapped back, and she realized no one spoke or moved. The entire gathering sat as quiet as church mice.

“How do you want it to happen then?” she asked and tried to stand, wanting the advantage of looking down on him for once.

But Quince wouldn’t let her. He rolled onto his side on a groan and refused to let go of her hand. “I’ll take you out for a nice evening. Romance you, wine and dine you, we’ll come back, have fantastic sex and annoy everyone with you screaming my name.”

“God.” Embarrassed that he’d admitted all that in front of the others, she also couldn’t stop her joyous need to jump up and down with excitement. He really did want to mate her, not to take over the pride, but because he wanted to.

“Yeah, you’ll be all, ‘God, my God’, and screaming for more.” He grinned around a fat lip. She heard the others laugh but couldn’t look away from Quince, who seemed to have their mating all mapped out for them. “Then I’ll layer you with scent. Your cat and you will accept, and I’ll give you my grandmother’s necklace to seal the deal.” His eyes were so warm, so loving.

She blinked away sudden moisture, totally moved by his declaration of intent in front of his friends.

“And if I say no?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll keep asking until you say yes. I figure I can wear you down, eventually.” His easy attitude vanished. “But we’re not goddamn mating for the pride. For once, I’m not going to martyr myself and my