Page 42 of Oakheart

Grant turned to glance up at me, looking a little green, then back at Ermengarde. “The boy’s right. I’ve got no defense against a witch.”

She sighed, long and put-upon, tapping her nails impatiently across the table. “Don’t you know anything about your own mutt laws? He can’t use magic in a duel.”

A growl started up in one of the goons when she referred to us as mutts, which Grant glared at him for. It was funny, because I thought it proved her point nicely. Why should she bother not to call us animals, if we acted like animals?

I wished Mama were there. She knew all of pack law, and would know if this woman was making things up in order to get Grant killed.

On the other hand, who cared if she was?

If this witchwolf used magic and killed Grant, all it meant to me was that one of my obstacles was gone. No doubt one or more of his goons would think to kill me to usurp my potential alphahood, but losing them in a challenge could only benefit the pack. Even if I didn’t live long enough to be alpha, getting rid of the jackasses who sat around and leeched off the pack while hurting its members could only do the people good.

By the time Ermengarde and her people left, it was decided. Grant would take a dozen members of the pack—mostly his goons—go stay in Ermengarde’s house in San Francisco, and challenge the Crescent pack based on some old rule about reintegrating lost pack members when taking control after a bad alpha.

I thought it assumed a lot of things, and stretched a lot of rules to breaking point, but in this case, I didn’t care that much. At least in part because I didn’t think Grant had half a chance in hell of making it all work.

This Crescent pack wasn’t just going to let him prance in and take over. They were rich and had a strong alpha and a fuckingwitch in charge of them. I would never say it aloud, but they were currently our superiors in every way.

It wasn’t until the witches were leaving in their shiny SUVs that I realized Tommy had been missing for the whole meeting. I only realized it then because he arrived, looking like he was headed for his own execution.

It was like watching a train wreck. Inevitable, horrible, and with nothing at all you could do to stop it or really even help, till the damage was done.

Grant turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised and annoyance writ large on his face—he was always pissy after meeting with Ermengarde, because he didn’t like that he had to be respectful to anyone, so he always took it out on us afterward. Tommy, here, was giving him an excuse.

Even worse, he cleared his throat, then swallowed hard and said...“They’re gone.”

“We know,” Marcus answered, rolling his eyes and motioning to the departing cars.

But that wasn’t what Tommy meant, oh no.

This was somehow so much better and so much worse.

I knew, without him saying. I knew, because it was the only answer. How was it possible for a thing to be so good, and so right, and so utterly heartrending, at the same time?

CHAPTER 21

Cash

I hadthe vaguest sense where I was going, but Uncle Tommy had an atlas in the glove compartment, and it turned out that Evie was pretty good with a map.

When I watched her from the corner of my eyes, tracing out our route with the tip of her finger, eyes narrowed at the page, I was struck by the memory of Jax’s sister, Jill, and how keen she’d been. There was nothing she couldn’t figure out.

And look at their pack now. Maybe Evie’s future would look like that, now that we’d gotten away and nothing would ever be the same again.

I couldn’t think that I’d never see my family or friends again, but for this shot for Evie, to live a life where she could do anything and didn’t have to be afraid?

For that, I’d give up anything I had to.

Uncle Tommy only had half a tank of gas in the truck, so right after we crossed into Nevada, we stopped to fill up and I gave Evie two twenties, told her to nab us some snacks, and put the rest on the pump. She returned with chips, sodas, and a candy bar to split, grinning like mad.

I probably should’ve saved our cash for an actual meal, but seeing her smile like that, it was hard to be sorry.

Once we were out of Idaho, we were both more relaxed, like there was a limit to the pack’s reach, even though we knew that they were headed this way. Evie fiddled with the dials on the radio until she found a station that came through clear, and we rolled down the windows.

I couldn’t remember ever feeling free like this. Even during my apprenticeship, I’d known I had to go home one day. This time, I had no idea what came next.

We drove for hours, and songs looped on the radio until at one point, Evie started belting out lyrics about not backing down.

Grinning, I joined in, sure I got most of the words wrong, but it felt good anyway. Wicked and free and wonderful, like we’d already made it.