Daniel sat there for a moment, trying to absorb that information. “So he claimed her? What about the Code? He wouldn’t violate that.”
“Ayuh. He didn’t. She was neither marked nor mated when he claimed her.”
“But… he already had a mate?”
“Yep.”
“Buuuut… she’s pregnant by Paul Abernathy?”
Jocko nodded. “He’d ordered her to get an abortion. They weren’t really a couple. He was just, eh, using her for a piece of tail, forgive the pun.”
Daniel rubbed at his forehead. “Fuck. Me. Is it too early to start drinking?”
Jocko heaved himself out of his chair and headed for the kitchen. “I’ve got some scotch I been savin’ for just such an occasion.”
“What, to toast the passing of the torch to some poor schmuck who has to deal with a bunch of shit?”
Jocko turned. “Nope. To the beginning of the end of the Abernathys.”
Daniel wasn’t looking forward to making these phone calls. He’d have to follow protocol and contact Mark Telford first, then Aindreas Lyall.
During the drive home a couple of hours later after being filled in on a bunch of other stuff he wished he didn’t know, he had finally gotten over the worst of feeling like the sacrificial lamb. As Jocko and the other Council members had explained, they wanted new blood. Fierce blood.
Someone with a dog in the fight, as it were. He was friends with Lina and her crew, as well as the Lyalls. And his parents had been killed by the cockatrice.
Jocko wasn’t fooling him in the least. The Council was smart enough to know they didn’t want to appoint an entire new Council without ensuring the elected leader had a personal and vested interest in doing everything possible to make sure they didn’t just roll over and show their bellies to the Abernathys in the interest of maintaining peace.
But they were all long in the tooth and not up to leading a battle. They’d paid their dues, some of them literally in blood, over the years.
Daniel pulled his truck into the drive and sat there for a moment. Along with having to deal with this mess his first day as head of the Clan Council, he’d also been secretly charged with coming up with other names to fill the remaining positions. People he knew shared his views. People he trusted.
People who wouldn’t be afraid to kick a little ass.
He walked inside where he found Callie in the kitchen and making a batch of banana bread from the recipe Lacey had given her. She tipped her cheek to him for a kiss, then frowned when he stepped away.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Technically, I’m not supposed to say.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh, reeeeallly?”
He smiled and gave her another peck on the cheek. “Down, pet. Of course I’m going to tell you.” His expression hardened. “You cannot, however, tell anyone else.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re Prime edicting me?”
He didn’t answer. He reached out, hooked a finger through the chain collar she wore locked around her neck twenty-four seven, and gently tugged.
Nothing else needed to be said. Message received. She cast her eyes downward. “Yes, Sir,” she meekly said.
“Good girl.” He released her collar after kissing her, this time on the lips. While she continued mixing, he filled her in. By the time he finished, she’d forgotten about the batter she was preparing and stared at him in astonishment.
“Is this what Lacey and Lina were warning us about?”
He leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “I believe so, pet.”
“You look pretty grim.”
“I feel pretty grim. I’m not looking forward to making these calls.”
“They’ll understand. I’m sure they will. They know all about the cockatrice. And from what I understand, they’re no strangers to Rodolfo Abernathy’s reputation, either.”
“Yeah, but I know if someone called me and told me there was a challenge about my mate, I’d want to reach through the phone and rip his balls off. Times that by two.”
“Let me fry this guy. C’mon, Sir. Please? It’ll only take me a minute.”
He chuckled. “No, pet. As much as I’d love to turn you loose on him, we can’t do that. That’s only inviting them to turn against us as a Clan and possibly rally support for their position from others.”
She looked at him incredulously. “Who in their fucking right mind would ever support Rodolfo Abernathy? The nicest thing I’ve ever heard said about him was that he was as crazy as a rabid Mississippi squirrel!”
“Think about it, pet,” he said. “One of the things that’s kept the peace with us and other Clans, not just wolf Clans but other shifter races, is our Code of the Ancients. That we don’t take others’ mates. No matter how different the shifter races are, there are two sacred things you don’t mess with—mates and pups. Well, children. How does it look that in not one, but two cases, we’d be seemingly turning a blind eye to challenges? It would go a long way to suddenly destroying the trust others have for our Clan.”
Her face fell. “Oh.”
He nodded. “Yeah, oh.” He pushed himself away from the counter. “I’m going to be in my office. Please don’t disturb me. I’ll be out when I finish.” He kissed her one more time.
“Yes, Sir.”
He turned at the kitchen doorway. “Oh, and pet?”
“Yes, Sir?”
He smiled. “I’m probably going to be in the mood to vent more than a little frustration when I get done. Make sure the playroom’s ready.”
She grinned. “Yes, Sir.”
Daniel sat down at his desk and took a deep breath as he stared at his cell phone.
Cowboy up, numbnuts. You accepted this gig. Now fucking do it.
He grabbed his phone and pulled up Mark Telford’s number. Jocko had given it and quite a few other numbers to him during their meeting.
They were all now grouped in his Google Contacts under the heading FMN.
Fuck. Me. Now.
Because that’s what he felt like now that he’d accepted the job.
Fucked.
He’d met Mark Telford a couple of times, but they weren’t close friends or anything. It rang a couple of times before Mark answered.
“Hello?” The voice sounded cautious, guarded.
“Hi, Mark. This is Daniel Blackestone. I’m calling you from the Clan compound in Maine.”
Immediately, Daniel sensed a change in Mark’s tone, growing friendly, open. “Oh! Hi, Blackie! Hey, how you doing?”
“To be honest, I’ve had better days.”
“What?”
He started with the easy part, that he was now not only on the Council, but head of the Council.
“Congratulations. I wondered if Jocko would ever retire.”
“Yeah. About that. Unfortunately, he dicked me over.”
Mark’s tone grew guarded again, which Daniel had expected. “What? That doesn’t sound like Jocko.”
“He’s not the only one dicking me over, though.” Daniel took a deep breath. “Tell me about the Lyalls and Elain Pardie. And while you’re at it, tell me about Micah Donovan and his new mate.”
He gave Mark points for style and avoiding the first part of the comment. “You mean Jim? He’s a nice guy. Micah’s crazy about him.” He laughed. “I thought for sure the Clan gossip would have reached you all up there by now.”
“I’m not talking about Jim. I mean Micah’s other mate. The coyote shifter. The one I will shortly have Rodolfo Abernathy crawling up my poop chute over. After he tries to separate me from my sac over Elain Pardie being mated to the Lyalls despite the blood oath his Clan had with her ancestors.”