Page 19 of Deception

She wanted to shove herself clear and scrub her skin clean, but she forced herself to play along. “Come on, Mett. You can tell me.”

He half whispered, half licked his next words into her ear. “Big secret. Just believe me when I tell you it doesn’t matter which of them wins.”

Her wolf snarled inside, but she kept the beast under control — barely.

So disgusting. How can you put up with this snake?her wolf cried. He reeked of tobacco and pure, unadulterated hate.

She did it because she had to. She had to find out more. What was Mett plotting? What did he mean?

“You can trust me,” she tried, touching his chest.

“Oh, I trust you all right. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

That line, she’d heard before. And damn it, she hadn’t worried back then. Well, she was worried now. Mett was up to something.

“Now how about you and me—” he started.

“Mett!” one of Gretchen’s hulking sons called over. “You and that she-wolf of yours can screw later. Come and help.”

Her wolf’s snarl grew lower, more dangerous.

“Don’t worry,” Mett whispered, finally letting her go. “You and me can have fun later.”

Sure. Fun. She wanted to slap him, but she forced her reluctant lips into a smile instead. “Can I help?”

What?her wolf screeched.

Better to keep an eye on him, right?

If I’m not sick first,her wolf murmured.

“Sure, Summ. Let’s go.” He grabbed her hand and towed her along.

We just have to stay in spitting distance,she told her wolf.See what he’s up to.

Spitting distance? Don’t tempt me.

She stuck with him for the rest of the afternoon, enduring more of his lecherous grins and touches. For the most part, though, she kept out of range of his wandering hands, which were mostly full as Mett and his cousins collected wood for a huge bonfire.

“For when the alpha is named,” he explained. “Not that it matters much.”

She studied him closely, trying to read his mind. What was he up to?

Beside the bonfire, they cleared space for a fighting arena, complete with rough wooden benches and risers.

“Gonna be a hell of a fight,” one of his cousins said.

“Yeah. Maybe they’ll kill each other,” Mett murmured. “Save us the trouble.”

Her heart raced, and she wondered if she should tell Thomas. But he was as much of an unknown as Mett.

As the sun dropped closer and closer to the horizon, the crowd grew. Wolf shifters she didn’t even recognize showed up, eager to witness the fight. Some of them looked wary, as if they, too, were as concerned about their future as she. They were ordinary shifters, she figured, who wanted to put their pack back on track — an honest track — and move on with their lives. A few younger guns chewed tobacco and chanted their support for one candidate or the other, and those worried her more. They’d follow whatever leader emerged from this mess. But who would that be?

She looked at the building Thomas had disappeared into for the afternoon, then over at the shelter where Dryver and his men waited as the hours ticked past. Finally, her eyes slid over to Mett. He lacked the raw power and brains of the other two, but he seemed so sure of himself. What ace did he have up his sleeve? He didn’t talk about his plans to anyone else, but every time he looked at her, he winked.

Right on cue, her stomach rolled.

Once they had set everything up, Mett and his cousins started drinking.

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