“I’m thinking pasta. Fast energy and doesn’t take too long to cook.” He untangled himself from my legs and went into the kitchen.
Jess smiled. “Dang, you got one that’s trained to cook? Give me some DNA and I’ll get to cloning him.”
I almost choked on the drink.
“The kids are safe, right?” Jess asked. “No chance they’re going to get nabbed while you’re here.”
“Yes. I’ve got them tucked away with a friend.” I didn’t think it was the right time to mention Red.
“Hmm.” Jess held her glass up and peered at the whiskey. “Good stuff.” She rested the glass in her lap, caressing the cool smooth surface. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Rebecca. I can only do so much and then it’s beyond me.”
I nodded. “You’ve done enough. Thanks for having us here.”
She sniffed the air. “Oh, he’s raiding the cupboard. Canned tomatoes and the man knows his seasonings.” Her attention returned to the drink, dipping her index finger in to stir an invisible ice cube. “For the record I’ve already warned both families that farther sneak attacks on your person will not be tolerated. Felis may not kill Felis but that doesn’t give them carte blanche to beat the crap out of you by broadsiding you in an alley. McCallister was way out of line for slamming you like that.” She took another sip. “Damned idiots.”
I didn’t dispute her opinion.
We sat in silence, a comfortable quiet, for a good half hour. The alcohol sent a warm buzz through me and I felt fine, refreshed and ready to deal with anything.
It wouldn’t last but I didn’t want to think about that right now.
“Come eat.” Bran appeared in the doorway, brandishing a ladle. “Now.”
Jess chuckled as she pushed herself up, letting out a grunt. I rolled off the couch and headed for the kitchen with my stomach already growling for food.
Bran whipped up a spaghetti dinner, salad on the side with giant slices of homemade bread hanging off the edges of the plates. He’d cooked for me before but this tasted extra good this time, the delicate spices dissolving on my tongue as I spun the thin pasta around my fork.
We ate in silence, a mismatched family enjoying the calm before the inevitable storm.
“Whoa.” Jess pushed the empty plate away and dabbed at one side of her mouth with a paper napkin. “I’ll have to add in an extra run tonight to make sure this doesn’t stay on my hips. Thank you.”
Bran gave me a saucy wink, and started to clear the table. He’d been the perfect host and I couldn’t have loved him more for it.
She patted her stomach. “That’s a meal that demands a round of applause.” Jess looked at her watch and sighed. “They’re going to be back in an hour. Anything you need me to do?”
“Stay around and make sure they don’t kill her,” Bran murmured from the kitchen counter.
“I was planning to do that anyway.” She got up from the table and carried the near-empty salad bowl to the refrigerator. “Got too much invested in you two.” After sticking the wooden bowl inside and closing the door Jess turned and rested her hands on the counter behind her. “What’s your plan?”
I mopped up the last of the sauce with a bit of crusty bread. “Same as before. Negotiate for the kids to come home and be allowed to continue dating each other. If they fall out of love or not is their decision, not their families’.”
Jess shook her head. “You are a hopeless romantic.” She picked up the electric kettle and nudged Bran aside to turn on the water in the sink. “And if they don’t give in? You’re fighting a feud that’s been going on for two generations.” She stuck the kettle under the stream of water. “You’re asking a lot of them. Jake and Mary were raised to believe their mothers were right in their actions and that the other side was wrong. It’s going to be hard, if not impossible for them to let that go.”
I chewed on the bread for a minute before answering. “I’m asking them to do what’s right for their children. The blood’s already been spilled and gone dry, there’s no point in continuing this insanity for another generation. Neither family will benefit in the long run and it won’t help the Pride.” I licked my lips, tasting the last of the tart sauce. “They can’t make me tell them where the kids are.”
“No they can’t.” Jess busied herself making tea. “But you know they can make you pay for your silence with more challenges and you won’t get away with that sneak attack again.” She studied my face. “Are you ready to take them on to protect two teenagers?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head and pulled down three mugs from the cupboard.
“Wait,” Bran interrupted. “You’re warning the idiots not to attack her again with one breath and in the other authorizing more challenges? What the fuck is that?”
Jess frowned and I knew she was trying to figure out how to explain something inherently Felis to him.
“It’s a matter of customs,” I started.
Jess held up her hand and stopped me. “Bran, it’s a case of procedure. When you were down in Penscotta and met those two enforcers you knew they’d do anything Carson asked, right?”
“They destroyed evidence that could have helped us find the killer faster. Redneck punks.”
“I agree. But they didn’t know that at the time, they were working for Carson. They were there to give Carson and the Board a private security force, someone they could trust to be there when needed.” She paused and I could see her trying to put words to something she hadn’t had to explain before. “What McCallister did was wrong. Enforcers aren’t allowed to attack other Felis unless necessary to protect the family.”
“Your own police force.”
She tilted her head. “In a way. Imagine them as sort of bodyguards with the ultimate goal of helping keep the Felis hidden.”
“But this has nothing to do with keeping your secret, chasing down two runaway kids. And they’re not working for the Board here. Carson at least justified his thugs by being the police chief.”
“Usually enforcers work for the Board. Some work for individual families, like in this case.” She frowned, her thin eyebrows drawing together as she searched for the words. “Enforcers do more than just punch and threaten. They help out when and where a strong man is needed, when a father’s been lost and a child needs help. They build barns and homes for those who need them. They help the elderly get around and deliver supplies if necessary. Think of them as a sort of Peace Corps with claws. We call them enforcers because they enforce our way of life, our code. It’s not an easy job and not every man wants the title. It’s a necessary part of our support system. I’m sorry you’ve only seen the negative side of it.”
Bran paused for a minute before nodding. “I get it. But what I don’t get is them beating on Reb and hunting down those kids. That can’t fall under helping the Pride.”
“It’s not. They’re not supposed to be active without approval from the Board and we sure as hell wouldn’t approve of smashing someone into a wall so hard she needed hospitalization.” Her left hand rose, waving away invisible flies. “A challenge, that’s different. That’s a traditional way of settling matters for the Felis. Family leadership, Board positions, it’s our way of settling matters in a definitive matter. Once it’s done, it’s done. No going back, no appeal process.”
“Might over right? Survival of the fittest?” Bran growled.
A flash of anger in Jess’s eyes signaled her impatience with him. “Look, you may not like it but it’s what we do. It’s how we survive, how we handle things. If you don’t like it—” She bit back the response.
Bran’s problem with the Felis was my problem and Lord knew I had more than one gripe with the system.
Bran took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “So they can challenge her again. And keep challenging until she either tells them or what, dies?”