What Rough Beast [Blood Oath 1] (27 page)

"I don't think you're vermin. Nor does Kate."

"You're not typical vampyr."

In his arms, Kate drifted to sleep. “Neither is Luc.” Garrick waited until he heard the creak of Peter settling into the driver's seat and the jeep door slam. “If it makes any difference, Luc thinks we're
all
uncivilized, were and vampyr alike.” He laughed. “Himself included."

The engine roared to life. “He wouldn't have considered protecting a were as a thing of any great importance if not for your influence. For that, I'm grateful."

After working through the night to ease Kate after Aidan's harrowing intrusion, Garrick was bone-weary and spent. His exhaustion was nearly as complete as his mate's. He felt the pull of slumber in the increasing weight of his limbs. The heaviness of his lashes made keeping his eyes open impossible. “His vampyr is maturing. Luc will begin nesting soon. He'll build a sanctuary for his future mate.” Because his faith in Peter was inviolate, he didn't fight sleep's deadening effects, let his body go lax. “Your pack has grown fat with restless weres searching for excuses to challenge one another. Dangerous. And unnecessary."

"I don't trust Luc."

"God forbid.” Garrick chuckled, letting his fatigue sweep over him. “Your trust should always and only belong to me."

"And Kate."

"And Kate,” he agreed, pulling her tightly against him. “
Your
confidence in Luc isn't mandatory. Or preferable. You need only allow the weres in your pack to trust and ally with Luc themselves."

"I've been considering that,” he said after long moments.

"Good,” Garrick said, his words slurring. “While you are, remember that I'll become a member of the rebel council soon. My influence is spreading."

"That's one way to win the war."

Garrick grunted sleepily. “I've always thought so."

Peter drove through the morning and into the afternoon. He stopped for gas, ate whatever the stores inside offered, and checked his rearview mirror often. He doubled back on his route what felt like a thousand times, speared the jeep to exits at the last moment when he reached the highways. If the bloody vampyr had sent a tail, Peter lost him miles and hours ago.

The sun was just sinking below the horizon when the weight of the bundle in the back shifted. “We're outside Lubbock, Texas.” Peter flicked on the blinker, changed lanes. “I'll pull over when we leave some of this congestion behind."

Garrick didn't answer, but Peter didn't expect him to. Kate's husky grumble as she, too, awoke whispered in his ears. He needn't focus his were senses to detect the brush of her lips against the shirt covering Garrick's chest, but their gruff good-evening greetings to one another wouldn't prevent the vampyr from seeing to the mechanics of Pridemore's relocation to Arizona, if his attention were required. It wasn't. Peter and Garrick had grown comfortable with each other over the years. If unexpected problems had arisen, Garrick knew Peter would've mentioned them. Otherwise, neither were nor vampyr felt the need to fill long silences with idle chatter.

Which was why the lethargic rustle of the carpet stilled when Peter next spoke.

"How deep do you expect your influence on the council to run?” He kept his tenor even, casual, but his knuckles on the steering wheel shone white. “Short-term.” Long-term, Peter had faith that Garrick would sway them. If he'd entertained doubts on that account, his pack would've abandoned Pridemore years rather than hours ago.

But he'd never dared to hope change might come in his lifetime.

"I haven't been accepted into the council. As in the governing of your kind, mine has a great many rules to be followed. Rituals to complete."

Peter's lips thinned in annoyance. “Your war has been an advantage to my people. While the vampyr fight one another, they've little interest in hunting weres."

"I've defended your pack for centuries. Then, my protection was vital, but I'm aware of how little I've been needed since."

Peter snorted. “I'm not stupid, Garrick. The pack isn't reconsidering our alliance. Knowing you, this was probably part of your master plan. So save your infernal tact and diplomacy."

"I'm practicing for the council."

Peter's mouth quirked. “God help me. I've allied with a politician."

Warm laughter drifted from the rear of the jeep.

The smile faded. “But you agree that, strictly speaking, continuing the war is in the weres’ best interests."

"I admit in the past the masters hunted your kind for sport."

"By the rebellion, we were nearly extinct.” Peter hadn't lived in those days, but like his fathers before him, he'd memorized the horrors that had been inflicted on his people. He'd passed the bitter warnings on to his children. “There were only dozens of us. Dozens.” His voice shook. “You know how difficult breeding is for us! We were that close to dying out."

"It wouldn't be like that."

"When your war ends, it will be
exactly
like that.” Peter squeezed the steering wheel with clenched hands. “Oh, my pack will be safe, tucked behind whatever gilded cage you have planned for us—"

"You're free to come and go, Peter, whenever you like. Your son and daughter chose to live in the city and visit only when their beast forces them to hunt."

Peter glared impotent fury at the road. “Their beasts require no more than a few freshly butchered steaks. Laurel prefers her protein wrapped in cellophane, and Cole hates the bayou, always has.” He shrugged a stiff shoulder. “They returned to Pridemore only to maintain the strength of your mark."

"They'll always have it. If it's more convenient, I'll go to them in the city."

"Your scent is their leash.” He pounded on the steering wheel. “Why do you fight so hard for your freedom, yet blind yourself to the slavery you've created?"

"Do you think I want this? That I ever did?"

"Garrick."

Kate's soft reproach jabbed at Peter's temper. Humiliation shredded him, made his voice sharp, cruel. “You claim to hate our vulnerability, but you're eager to exploit it."

"I'm not exploiting you. I suggested Luc as another protector to branch out your pack, increase your numbers. I'm doing the best that I can!"

"I love you, Garrick. I do.” He nosed the jeep into the lot of an abandoned department store, shoved the gear into park, and exhaled a weary breath. “But your best isn't good enough."

Peter heaved himself from the seat, and rounding the jeep, he hauled the rolled carpet from the back to the cold hard cement. He unfurled the trailing edge, and Garrick's furious jerks did the rest.

The vampyr glared at him from the rectangle of carpet, but it was the sympathy in Kate's stare, her hand a gentle restraint on Garrick's shoulder that undid him.

Garrick's eyes narrowed to slits. “What do you want me to do?"

Peter jerked a shoulder and glanced away. “What can you? As you said, you've done your best."

"And as
you
said, it's not enough,” he said through clenched teeth. “You obviously have an idea, and I'm all out of them. Let's hear it."

"How deep will your influence on the council run?"

Kate rose to her feet, crossed her arms, and glared at the both of them. “He's listening, Peter.
Talk
to him."

"Before we left Pridemore, Tim came to me. He's young, but born to be an alpha. He'll approach Luc in Arizona, with my blessing. If Luc is willing, my pack will divide. But that's only two alliances.” He darted a glance at Garrick. “I know of seven alphas, seven other packs, who'd ally with vampyr if they could."

Garrick rested his head against his bent knees, scrubbed tired hands across his face. His shoulders shook. “Seven. Luc's makes eight.” He didn't bother to try to smother his hopeless chuckle. “You don't ask much. That would only cover...what? The whole of New England? Why not all of America? Why not the world?"

Peter bristled. “The more of us who strike alliances, the less dark masters hunt us. One or two packs are slaves. We are confined to our cages, the limited territory our one or two protectors can guarantee our safety, but seven packs? Eight? Ten? We'd have a larger area of security, and with so many protectors, alliances would be a choice rather than a lack of alternatives."

"Ten now.” Garrick groaned.

"Seven,” Kate said, her touch whispering in his hair. “He's only asking for seven."

"It's not too vast a number.” Peter's forehead furrowed. “Seven is attainable."

Garrick tipped his head back and howled mirthless laughter. “The rebels are a
minority
, Peter. Why do you think I chose to build Pridemore in a swamp? To hide from dark masters and rogues.” He swiveled his gaze to include Kate. “To hide
all
of us.” His shoulders slumped. “You speak of freedoms
I
don't possess."

"Seven new alliances and Luc's eight will win your war for you, vampyr. That's almost ten of your kind strengthened by were blood.” Peter paced, excitement glittering in his eyes. “And we can fight. We
want
to fight. Imagine it, Garrick. Headhunting elders fueled with were blood, joined in battle with hundreds of beasts."

"You'll fight by the hundreds.” He blew out a dispirited breath. “And die by the hundreds."

Peter shrugged a diffident shoulder. “We die anyway."

"Your blood is valuable to us, Peter, but it doesn't make you impervious. Your bodies are fragile. Against the masters? Their servants? You'd be slaughtered and draw their attention back to you. Have you considered that? Your numbers rebounded after the masters focused on the rebellion, but they'd hunt you again. Not just your warriors, your women and children too. The were population recovered thanks to the war, but not enough to join it. The risks are too high."

"Better to die for hoping too much than be killed for fearing it.” Peter shook his head. “No. Some of us will hide among your kind. We won't all be out in the open as we were before. We'll survive."

"We aren't headed to Arizona because they suck at staying alive, Garrick. If not for their ancestral grounds, we would've been trapped in whatever Aidan had planned for us. You said so yourself."

"I designed the bug-out when Pridemore was still an empty bog, love.” His lips twisted to a crooked smile. “I selected the cave complex in Arizona because of its comfort value to the pack. Not because I was desperate and had no other place to go."

"Still. On their own ground, they'll know how to take care of themselves."

Garrick's heart hurt.
"I planned that too. If Pridemore fell, I needed to give my weres the best shot at surviving my loss. I owe them that much."

Peter scowled. “Weres have little to lose by joining the war and the world to gain. Why can't you see that? Together, we can make a stand against your dark masters. We can
defeat them."

Kate worried her bottom lip.
"It could work, couldn't it?"

"I'm counting on that, but it's too soon."
Garrick raised a hand. “You're assuming I'd find vampyr willing to tolerate a were pack. Notice I said tolerate. Not welcome. You've spoken to Aidan, seen his prejudices, and he's our prince. How likely is it that I'll be able to net you seven new alliances?"

The alpha's lips thinned. “If we can change Aidan's mind, the rebels will follow. They always do."

"Results persuade the prince. Results and little else.” Garrick stood, snaked his arm around Kate to pull her close. “If the seven alliances you speak of succeed, if they show the council that were support strengthens headhunters for the fight and adds a layer of safety while we mate, Aidan might bend, but he won't promote pacts with weres among our kind until then. He won't help us."

"Your prince won't bend, but you did. You can't be the only one, not after so many generations have lived and died at Pridemore.” Peter aimed a vicious kick at one of the jeep's tires. “Do you not know any of your damned vampyr brothers who'd take us?"

Beseeching, Kate reached out to him. “Peter.” Kate move from the cradle of his arms to Peter to ease the worst of his temper from him.

"You forget what I am. What I've been.” Garrick glanced away, unwilling to meet the questions in Kate's gaze. “I fought
for
the rebellion. They allowed that. But I never fought
with
them. They accepted Luc, but not me. Never me."

When he peered through dark lashes, Kate had laid her cheek against the were's shoulder. Her fingers smoothed up and down his arm, quieting him. Peter's body vibrated with anger, but he'd reigned himself in. For her. “I was tolerated, Peter. But only tolerated. If not for Aidan, the rebels would've killed me before I met your forebears. They don't trust me. How could they? I was never one of them."

Peter's awkward hands lifted to stroke Kate's hair. He nodded silently at her. “You will be."

"I will be.” He shifted on his feet. “But not yet."

"You're wrong.” Peter snorted disgust when Garrick opened his mouth to argue. “To most of them, yes, not yet. They trust you as much as they'd trust me, which is not at all, but some of them...” He waved an accusing hand. “They are like Luc. You are an example to him, to them, of a new way to fight the war."

"They are exactly like Luc.” Garrick threw frustrated hands in the air. “Little more than children!"

"Too young to be tainted by old prejudices.” Peter smiled. “According to our pack lore, you were the same age as Luc when you approached us with your ridiculous notion to ally."

Garrick glowered. “Strengthening our youngest and weakest warriors would aid us in ending the war how?"

"Your young are paired with your elders. They'll see the difference we make. All we lack is the opportunity to prove our worth. Little by little, we'll convince them."

Garrick knew what he said was true. He'd spent centuries scheming those same schemes. Alliances with weres would turn the tide of the war. Not win it. Garrick placed a lot of faith in his weres, but he was too painfully aware that much more would be required to end the bloody catastrophe of the rebellion.

But it was a beginning.

Something to build on.

Something to give the rebels sorely needed hope.