“You’ll let us do the testing, or your pack is out of the games!” the man was yelling at his uncle.
“After those accusations hit the paper,ou knew the testing was coming,” Jarrod said to him.
His uncle scowled at him. “I’m handling it.”
“I’m pack Alpha, so actually I’m handling it.”
His uncle glowered at him. “You’re Alpha Regent. You’re not officially our Alpha until and unless you get married.”
The man who’d been yelling turned away from Earvin and spoke to Jarrod. “Doctor Henry Costello, Chief Officer of the Alpha Games Medical Commission,” he said, leaning his head back and exposing his throat to indicate submission to the Alpha.
Jarrod nodded in acknowledgement. “Jarrod Shaw, Alpha Regent of the Magister Pack. How can I help you?”
“New Alpha Games rules. We require a series of blood samples from all participants in the games to ensure that there’s no use of performance-enhancing drugs.”
Earvin’s snout shot out and saliva drooled from his jaws. He growled something incomprehensible.
“Change the fuck back,” Jarrod said irritably. “Can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
Earvin’s whole body shuddered and, with visible effort, he forced his head back into human form. “That is an insult to our pack,” he snarled.
“No, it isn’t, not if they’re requiring it of all packs,” Jarrod snapped at him. “How would it make us look if all the other packs agreed to the tests and we didn’t?” The Alpha Congress had been smart to do it that way. They’d avoided directly accusing the Magister Pack of cheating, and also made it impossible to refuse to take the tests.
Earvin didn’t answer, just glowered.
“We have nothing to hide. Test away. We will not interfere,” Jarrod said to Henry.
“We need all the athletes to meet us at your clinic,” Henry said. “You have two dozen contestants. By the end of this weekend, I need blood samples from all of them. I will personally supervise the blood draw, and from each athlete we will take two vials. We will take one vial with us and leave one behind. We will be leaving three of our men on your property, guarding the vials around the clock, until the testing is done.” He nodded at the uniformed men. “Of course, you may also assign men from your pack to guard the vials with us while we wait for results.”
“That is entirely fair. See that it’s done,” Jarrod said to Craig. “Give them whatever they need. Call me if there are any problems.”
Craig nodded. “We can take my car; I’ll take you to the clinic,” he said.
Earvin watched them walk towards the front of the building, his lip curled and fists bunched, then whirled to face Jarrod with a snarl.
“You have a lot of nerve,” he growled. “I’m the pack Gamesmaster, and I set the rules.”
“You calling me out?” Jarrod met his uncle’s gaze with a steady stare. “Or are you saying that we have something to worry about? Are you concerned about what they’ll find with the tests?”
His uncle’s gaze flickered for the briefest moment, and alarm shot through Jarrod. Earvin was actually worried about something. What was it?
“Not in the least,” his uncle said, stepping back and bowing his head the slightest bit to indicate submission. He should have inclined his head a lot more, but for the moment Jarrod would let it go.
Sooner or later they were going to clash, he knew. His uncle had gotten too used to running pack affairs over the last twenty years, and at one point he’d actually made a formal appeal to the Alpha Congress to overturn the rules about his disability so that he could be pack Alpha. He’d been voted down by a wide margin, and he’d been bitterly disappointed.
“There had better not be anything to worry about,” Jarrod said.
His morning sparring session was over. He needed to go to the clinic and talk to the athletes personally. He couldn’t imagine his uncle allowing any of them to take drugs – not because his uncle was such a great guy, but because of pride. His uncle was fiercely, obsessively proud of his position and of the pack’s standing; they had numerous champions. To win by taking drugs would be an embarrassment and a disgrace.
But still… His uncle’s expression… He was lying about something.
Jarrod let out a long, rumbling growl of frustration. This kind of distraction was the last thing he needed. He had a bridenapping to prepare for.
