Chapter Twenty

  Dorian still was feeling a bit off kilter as Rick drove into the District of Columbia. He had healed from the accident he had been in and was now sitting there with tight knots in his stomach.

  They were here, where the final battle was going to take place.

  Fuck, he couldn’t get his heart back under control. It was thumping so hard in his chest that Dorian feared it would burst free.

  “Relax, gatito,” Rick said from beside him.

  “How are you so calm?” he asked, feeling like Rick should be the one in a panic. He was the Rebellion leader, the most wanted man in America. How in the hell could he be sitting there in such a relaxed pose? Dorian was falling apart, and Rick was calm and collected.

  “I’m expecting the troops to show up any second and blow us off the face of the earth.”

  “You have to think positive.”

  “Okay, I’m positive they are going to come at us any minute and blow us up.” Yet his mate just sat there with his hand on the steering wheel, slumped in his seat, his features stress-free. What the fuck?

  Dorian was half tempted to piss the man off just to get a reaction out of him.

  “Look what we’ve already been through to get here, Dorian. The odds are stacked against us, yet we’ve made it a year and a half without being killed. We have Rebellions meeting up with us, and this is the last leg of our journey. I’m positive all hell is going to break loose.” Rick’s liquid grey eyes locked onto him. “But I’m not going to sit here biting my nails because we’ve entered the monster’s den. If I allow myself to panic, I won’t have a clear head.”

  It made sense to Dorian, but he still couldn’t stop himself from worrying. O’Hanlon had to know they were here, or close. The man was not just going to stand down and allow Rick and his men to just waltz in here and talk to the president. The human had done some shady and cruel shit, including starting this war. He was going to protect his ass no matter what.

  It wasn’t going to be easy getting in to talk to the president.

  Dorian wasn’t going to kid himself. Once word reached the man he was probably going to be whisked off to an undisclosed location.

  They had to get to him before he was gone.

  “We’re stopping just outside the city.” Rick began talking. “There we’ll see how many changelings and sympathizers we have to work with and organize our plans.”

  Dorian was going to call his family once they were at their meeting spot. He had to let them know how much he loved them. He might not make it out of this alive. Dorian hadn’t even told them that he had been converted. There was so much he needed to say to his dad, mom, and Ian.

  Gazing at his mate, Dorian was still in awe at how strong he had become. Not just physically. Rick had an inner strength that shone through in time of crisis. The man didn’t buckle under the pressure or kill the humans because they were trying to kill him. He dispensed justice to those who deserved it, but even after everything he had been through, Rick still cared about those around him and tried his damnedest to keep the causalities down.

  How could anyone want this man dead? Just the thought of O’Hanlon hurting Rick made Dorian see red. The bastard had no clue how precious and rare a man like Rick was.

  “Are we there yet, Ma?”

  Dorian’s head snapped around at Miguel’s groggy voice. It was the first time he was conscious since Bryson extracted the bullet.

  Dorian was thankful as fuck that the guy was conscious. He had been worried about the werewolf being out of it for over twenty-four hours.

  “Miguel?”

  “Oh, fuck,” he groaned as he opened his eyes. Miguel was lying in the backseat, a blanket draped over his form. He was still paper-white, but a little color was coming back to his cheeks. “Did you get the number of the truck that hit me?”

  “You were shot,” he reminded the enforcer. “They used silver bullets.”

  “I’ll have to remember to send whoever shot me a thank-you card.” He tossed his arm over his eyes. “Where’s Benito?”

  Dorian glanced out of the back window to see Benito in the convoy of vehicles driving behind them. “Following us in the car you two were in.”

  “Hide me from him,” Miguel murmured.

  Dorian frowned. “Why?”

  “Because he was already bitching about getting the upholstery cleaned. He’s probably fuming over the bullet holes and my blood.”

  “He does remember that’s a stolen car?” Rick asked.

  “Tell him that.” Miguel rolled to his side and tried to push up, but he ended up falling back to the seat. “Alpha?”

  “Yes, hermano?”

  “Why can’t I feel my right arm?” Miguel tossed the blanket aside, his hand skimming down his right arm. Dorian watched as Miguel used his good hand to lift his arm, only for the limb to fall back to the seat with a thud. “Why can’t I feel my right arm?” he asked again, his voice taking on a panicked tone.

  Dorian’s gaze shot over to Rick. He did not want to be the one to deliver the news to Miguel that he might be permanently fucked up.

  Dorian’s throat was already constricting as he saw the desperation marring Miguel’s handsome features.

  “Bryson said you went too long with that bullet buried in your shoulder,” Rick answered in a tone that damn near made Dorian cry.

  “He thinks you might have some permanent damage.”

  Dorian wasn’t a crier, not by a longshot, but to see the horror on Miguel’s face at Rick’s words, he could feel his throat tightening as he repeatedly swallowed. The man’s deep-blue eyes swept over the interior of the truck, and Dorian knew he was absorbing what was going on while trying to compose himself.

  Turning back around, Dorian gave him all the privacy he could considering they were in the small confines of the truck. His heart went out to the guy. Dorian knew that Miguel had worked his ass off to become one of Rick’s enforcers and prided himself in fighting alongside his alpha in this war.

  He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to lose the ability of his arm. Dorian wanted to remind Miguel that at least he was alive, but kept those reassuring words to himself. It was too soon, and Miguel wouldn’t welcome them.

  “Do you want to ride with Benito?” Rick asked.

  Miguel was so quiet that Dorian didn’t think the man would answer. Finally a small and tight no could be heard. They rode in silence to their meeting place, all three lost in their own thoughts.

  Marco’s eyes were wide as they entered what looked to be a meeting place. He had never seen so many cars, trucks, motorcycles, and vans in his life. It looked more like a convention than a Rebellion meeting.

  “Are these all the people here to help us?” he asked Remus as they found a place to park. It was on a long stretch of field, way in the back. If they had to escape quickly, it would be on foot. There was no way they would be able to get back to their truck in haste.

  “This is only half,” Remus said as he shut the motor off. “The other half will be here tomorrow.”

  As Marco’s eyes swept the crowd, he saw men and women talking to one another in small groups, one on one, or in a large collection.

  Some looked like businessmen while others looked like rough outlaws. He even saw one guy in hospital scrubs. It seemed changelings came from all walks of life.

  Marco already knew this, but to see the different people up close amazed him. There were Latinos, African Americans, Caucasians, Asian, and every race in between. The group held large, muscular men and women, short and stout people, tall and thin, young and old.

  Some wore what amounted to tight battle suits, while others wore jeans, T-shirts, and leather jackets. A few women wore shorts, and some men were wearing tailored suits. A handful of people were even in their changeling forms.

  Remus and Marco navigated the crowd until they were standing by Rick’s Rebellion group. Rick was talking with a few people, Dorian at his side. He saw Brooke and Deluca, and even Pappy.

  The other faces were unfamiliar to him. But Marco spotted Sasha standing there talking to his mate. There had to be at least two hundred men and women here, if not more. The numbers were overwhelming and reassuring.

  “Rick is talking with all the alphas who joined us,” Remus remarked as they stood there. “I think he’s going over strategy with them.”

  “I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Marco replied. “There are too many people here. How can they organize a protest? It would take me at least a month to plan.”

  “You and me both,” Remus said and then cursed.

  “What?” Marco asked, gazing around the large crowd, looking for any signs of trouble. “What do you see?”

  “Astoria is here.”

  That was bad. Astoria was the leopard who continually gave Sasha a hard time. The man didn’t outright challenge the alpha for leadership, but he made it known how much he hated the leopard.

  Astoria was nothing but bad news.

  In Marco’s opinion, the only thing the leopard could contribute was trouble. Astoria was mean down to his toes.

  “I’m going to go warn Sasha that he’s here.” Remus grabbed Marco’s hand, pulling him along. Marco hurried behind Remus. He wasn’t going to stand around with strangers. They may be the same species, but that didn’t automatically make them friendly. There were a lot of predators here. They were the meanest of the bunch.

  Again Marco felt slighted that he wasn’t more ferocious, but after last night, he was coming to terms with who he was. Remus was a predator, a dominant male, and he had selflessly given over a gift most powerful males wouldn’t even think about giving. He had known what his mate was doing and the trick had worked. Marco walked with a little more confidence, not feeling like prey so much anymore.

  They reached Sasha and Remus told the alpha who was attending their meeting. The alpha didn’t look too happy.

  “I should have known he would show up,” Sasha said in a tone that was lethal. “I’m willing to bet he’s here more for information than to help. If he wants the leap so badly, then he can fight me for it.”

  “I thought you said you were done being alpha?” Nate asked.

  The news rocked Marco. He loved Sasha and couldn’t think of anyone else he wanted to lead them. It was true their leap was falling apart, but if Sasha left, what were he and Remus going to do?

  “I am, but that doesn’t mean I’m bowing out gracefully.” Sasha tossed his long, blond braid over his shoulder as his eyes gazed over the crowd.

  “Selene is going to kick your ass if you get hurt,” Nate warned.

  Marco had yet to meet her, but Remus had told him about their alpha mating two werewolves. He didn’t care. To Marco, the law that ruled his species was outdated and stupid. It shouldn’t matter who Sasha mated or what blood ran through his veins. As long as he could do his job, the other shit didn’t matter.

  Maybe when the war was over, the alphas could sit down and draw up new laws, ones that were more befitting for this generation.

  The elders had written the old ones at a time when the veil was still open.

  That was a long time ago. It was time to move on.

  “What are you going to do with the leap?” Marco asked before he thought better. A juvenile never questioned his alpha. It was forbidden, but Marco felt desperate. He just hoped Sasha didn’t hand him his ass on a gold platter.

  The alpha cut his kelly-green eyes at Marco. All Marco could do was swallow roughly. “I will not leave you hanging, Marco. Things will be worked out once this is behind us.”

  Marco bowed his head, relieved the alpha wasn’t going to abandon him and Remus. Although leopards were solidary creatures, Marco had become too used to having Sasha as their alpha.

  “Marco, this is Nate,” Remus introduced them. “He is one of Sasha’s mates.”

  Tilting his head to the side in respect, Marco kept his gaze averted until Nate touched his neck in acceptance. The guy was freaking huge! He had seen him from a distance since meeting up with Rick’s group, but standing next to him felt like Marco was standing next to a mountain. His eyes only came to the man’s sternum.

  “Sasha Monroe.”

  Marco instantly stiffened when he heard Astoria’s grating voice. It was dripping with pleasantry and loathing. He wasn’t sure why, but Nate immediately moved in front of him and Remus, as if protecting them.

  “Juvenile,” Sasha addressed Astoria in his proper placement, telling the leopard with the use of the word that he was beneath Sasha.

  Marco could see the tic in Astoria’s jaw. The guy was so full of himself that he felt he should be addressed with placement higher up in the hierarchy. Marco had heard him say this plenty of times when Sasha wasn’t around.

  “I found out some very interesting news about you,” Astoria continued, his feeling of being slighted apparently forgotten. He was now looking at their alpha like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse.

  “Very interesting indeed.”

  Sasha scowled. “What, that I’m a half breed?”

  “So you admit it!”

  “Fuck off before I snap your neck,” Nate said. “You’re like a gnat that is buzzing around my head. Don’t make me squash you.”

  Marco would have run away if Nate had issued the threat to him.

  As big as he was, Astoria should have tucked tail and run. But he was too stupid for his own good.

  “Know your place, dog.”

  Oh shit! Marco blinked and Nate had his big, beefy hand wrapped around Astoria’s neck, squeezing the life out of him. “What the fuck did you call me, boy?”

  Astoria scratched and clawed, but couldn’t get Nate’s hand from around his throat. Sasha just stood there with an amused expression on his face. “Why do I have a feeling that if I don’t kill you, you’ll only come back to fuck with us?” Nate asked as Astoria began to turn a dark shade of red. Marco could hear the voices around them growing quiet and knew they were not only watching, but listening.

  This upped the stakes now because even though Sasha no longer wanted the leap, he couldn’t lose face.

  “Because he will,” Marco spoke up. “He thinks he should be alpha.”

  A few chuckles could be heard behind him. Marco knew how they felt. Astoria may be bigger than him, but he was significantly smaller than Sasha. Nate glanced at Marco, making him take a step back.

  Sasha finally waved a hand at Astoria. “If he wants to be alpha, let him challenge me for the title.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sasha could see the rush of color mottle Astoria’s cheeks. He knew this day was going to come from the way the man had acted back home. Astoria was full of himself and everyone who knew the man realized this fact sooner or later.

  Most of the time sooner.

  “What are you waiting on?” Sasha taunted with the playfulness he was known for. “You’ve talked so much shit for so long, I would think you’d jump at the opportunity to take me down.” Nate’s heat was behind him, but Sasha didn’t need his mate to defend him. He had grown up fighting because he had a secret to hide, and although he came off as playful and purring, Sasha was one lethal son of a bitch. He had honed his skills to perfection, and the leopard before him was not going to stand there and look smug.

  He was determined to wipe that look off of the man’s face…with his claws.

  “You’re a mutt,” Astoria said loud enough for the changelings standing around them to hear. “What are you mixed with, Sasha?”

  “Ask your mother. I gave her some of my DNA last night.” Sasha heard Nate growl at the crudity of his words, but all was fair when dealing with a male who thought he could take Sasha Monroe down.

  “How dare you!” Astoria barreled toward Sasha, his arms extended as he tried to wrap them around Sasha’s waist. But he was quick. Stepping aside with swiftness, Astoria only managed to wrap his arms around someone’s truck.

  Damn, that had to hurt.

  The situation was almost laughable, if not for the fact that Astoria had just openly challenged Sasha. Making a move toward him was a challenge in and of itself. He couldn’t back down now nor did he want to. But taunting the man would help Astoria become so enraged that he lost focus. Sasha used any technique he could when in battle.

  Nostrils flaring, Astoria pushed himself from the ground he had so ungraciously landed on when he kissed the tailgate. He jabbed a finger toward Sasha. “You don’t deserve to be alpha. You’re a half breed.” He spat the two words as an insult, but no one around them batted an eye. Truth be told, Sasha had learned that most changelings were indeed half breeds. They just hid it because of the ancient law that stated half breeds were to be treated like mutts. No one wanted to be ostracized from their pack, clan, leap, or whatever they belonged to. Astoria’s attempt at making Sasha out to be a monster had failed and he could see Astoria was realizing this.

  “I’m also gay. I like cock and I love to feel Nate—”

  “Sasha.” Nate glared at him, a warning not to say another word about their intimacies.

  “You get the point,” Sasha said to Astoria as he gave his mate a playful smile. “You want to throw that out there as well?”

  Some of the changelings standing around them looked over at Astoria with contempt. The leopard gave pause as he stood there, his expression clearly stating that he was trying to come up with a new tactic to use against Sasha.

  “You are a pathetic idiot,” Sasha stated. “You want to be alpha, yet all you do is stand there trying to insult me instead of doing what any male worth his salt would do—fight.”

  Now that was a true insult. Sasha didn’t mince words and he was growing tired of outwitting the poor excuse for a male leopard. He was ready to get this over with. With a few quick strides, Sasha lifted his arm and backhanded Astoria so hard the leopard was knocked off of his feet, landing solidly on his ass. “If you step to me for a challenge, be ready to take on a male leopard worth the alpha title. Go back to your mother and nurse from her tit for a few more years before challenging me again.”