By the Tail

He searched her expression, then seemed to ease. “I found her dying, Joy. In the days when everything was going to hell and Lex’s regime on a rampage, I found Belinda lying in the middle of the estate. She’d been abused by a half dozen of Lex’s men. And one of them had tried to end her. But she had enough anger in her to curse me for it all. Said if I’d just accepted her or Alissa as mate, none of it would have happened.”

“I’m so sorry.” She rubbed his arms, hating the grief she saw in his face.

“I wanted to stay with her, but the guys had returned. She told me to go after them, so I did.” He paused, and anger brightened his gaze. “I finished them. But I returned to see Miles with her, and there were others to help. I left Belinda to his care. As to Alissa’s claim, I never told Lex about Stacey. As soon as he saw her, he kicked Alissa to the curb, and I don’t think she ever forgot it.”

“You think?”

He frowned. “What did Miles say after you told him he was dead wrong?”

“Called him an ass too,” she added. “Nothing. He changed the subject to my designs, which he actually likes.”

“Don’t sound so surprised. You’re good.”

“Yeah, but not great.” She pulled him next to her and rolled onto her side to see him. They entwined hands, and she confessed her burdens, feeling lighter and freer because of it. “I’ve been the other Bermin sister for so long. Not one of the talented, beautiful twins or the sexy, blonde diva. I’m not the amazing financial wizard Miles is either. I’m just Joy.”

“Nothing ‘just’ about you, baby.”

She smiled at him. “You see the real me.”

“I always have.”

“Yeah, but now I’m seeing it too. I’m the best hunter in the family. I know that. But my cat is only half of who I am. It’s taken me a long time to see that I have more to offer than crappy design ideas.”

“Crappy?” He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek. “Honey, you’re amazing. In and out of bed. Joy is great, remember?”

She chuckled and melted under his sincere affection. “Yeah, I am. I have a mate I love. And I’m sneaky enough to guess what you put in that note to Miles.”

“Now now. Let’s not change the subject.”

“You’re going to trick him into challenging you for the pride, aren’t you?” She had to hand it to him. Quince had devious down to a science. “If that’s what this is really all about, I’m in.”

He blinked. “You are?”

“I’m going with you to this fight. You’re going to kick Ayers’s ass. I’ll make sure his cronies don’t jump in and try to kill you while you’re maiming Greg. Then we’ll let Miles do his thing. I assume you gave him a time and place to meet you?”

Quince smirked. “Maybe I did.”

“Yeah, if that punch to the face didn’t annoy him all over again, the note probably will. I assume you wrote something offensive to get him to meet you tonight?”

“Don’t worry. He’ll be there.”

“So that part’s done. Now we just have to make sure he doesn’t kill you.”

“Thanks for your confidence, mate.” The twinkle in his eyes distracted her.

“Well, you two are so evenly matched. And that’s not counting injuries. You’re going to have to handle Ayers, his bunch, and Miles.”

Quince kissed her. “That’s why I’ve got you and my guys. To help me out. I’m not wanting to run anything solo. I trust you, the way I trust them.”

And that meant the world to her. “Then don’t get dead, or I won’t be responsible for what I do to your corpse.”

“Right.” He snuggled with her again, but Joy had other ideas.

“You know, we have a little time. How about I lock that door, and then you can prove to me what a great decision I made, accepting you and all.”

His wide grin was all the answer she needed.

Miles sat inside the warehouse and did his best to calm down. He’d never been so fucking angry, not since learning of Michael’s murder and Quince’s betrayal.

Joy had almost had him convinced that he’d been wrong about Quince. Of course he’d questioned how a man he’d known for three decades could turn a one-eighty. Quince used to laugh, joke and pal around. They had fun together going after the girls and hunting in the Glades. They’d gone to school, graduated in the same class, played the same sports. It had been a natural separation when Miles attended college and business school while Quince worked closely with the pride, with Michael, their surrogate father.

Like Quince, Miles had also lost his dad at an early age. But by that point he’d been heavily involved in helping to raise his teenage sisters and attending school while Quince had worked under Michael.

So to hear that Quince had killed Michael so Michael’s bastard sons could take over the pride had been a shock. But Quince hadn’t denied his involvement with the dick back then. They’d been tight. And Miles had seen with his own eyes the damage Quince had done to several members and organizations within the pride. All that, on top of what Alissa had told him and finding Belinda torn up… He’d believed the worst.

He scowled down at the note Quince had left him while fingering the soft bracelet in his other hand. Joy’s bracelet.

“You want your sister back in one piece, fight for her. If you even remember how to. Be at the House at nine. Come alone. I win, you leave the pride for good. Joy is mine. You win when I’m dead and gone.”

Miles rubbed his jaw, wondering how Joy could be so blinded to the kind of man Quince really was. He kept seeing Belinda in his mind’s eye, and then he imagined Joy reaching out to him, so hurt, so lost.

Dead and gone? So be it. He pocketed the bracelet and left the office. He had a fight to get ready for and a corrupt dictator to end. Once and for good.

Chapter Nine

Quince couldn’t believe Ayers had the nerve to invite not just two supposedly impartial elders—judges who by their very natures observed with neutrality—and three witnesses, but his entire band of loyal shitheads as well. In the fighting ring behind the House, a cleared area in the middle of the pine forest the size of half a football field, Quince and Ayers stood barefoot and bare-chested over matted grass. On either side of the ring stood members of the pride, while a small raised platform with six mounted chairs oversaw the activities.

Normally they held contests and sporting matches in the ring, while those who supervised or judged watched from the platform. Where the new pride leader might stand the next time they held the pride games. God willing it wouldn’t be Ayers or Quince.

Behind him, Jace, Ellis and Rain—his witnesses—stood waiting and watching. He’d forced Dana, Willow and Joy to stand by in secret. Females could be deadly, but by not having them present, he would appear as if trying to protect them. Actually, he had them watching from the woods, masked by Hunter’s mist so they wouldn’t be scented, waiting in their feline forms, armed with claws and teeth and muscular grace. And guns, if need be.

Quince was no fool. When Ayers made his play—and he would—Quince needed to be one step ahead of him. He had no doubt that if left to Greg Ayers, Quince and his guys wouldn’t be leaving this fight alive. He wondered if the judges would support Quince’s side, or if they’d been bought. He glanced at the three older men.

Alan Danville, the oldest member of the pride and their current European Liaison, would and had remained loyal to the pride. During Lex’s chaos, Danville had been in France dealing with obnoxious lions. But when he’d