How It Will Be by T. S. Joyce
Chapter Fourteen
She could do this.
Ren lifted her fist to knock, hesitated only a moment, then rapped her knuckles against the woodgrain of Manning’s front door.
Trina answered the door—the human Manning had hurt during that dinner. She was the reason Ren had stolen the amulet she intended to return today. She wasn’t supposed to be here.
Shocked, Ren pulled her outside. “What are you still doing here?” she whispered.
Trina’s eyes were empty, as if she was numb. She lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “I can never leave.”
Ren gave off a single, humorless huff of a laugh. “The fuck you can’t. You see my car over there?” she asked.
Trina blinked slowly and stared at her Explorer. She nodded slightly. “I see it.”
“You get in and you go up the road until you have to take a left or a right, and you take a right. You go straight to the Hagan Inn, and you ask them for an extra room key to room number 1010. Do you understand? You say you lost your room key, and you need another one. 1010. Can you remember that?”
Trina looked back at the house behind her, then to the trees that surrounded the house. In a barely audible voice, she said, “They’ll kill us.”
“No, babe,” Ren muttered. “No, they won’t. You just get in the car and go, and you’ll have cover.”
“I don’t…” Trina’s bright green eyes filled with emotion. “I don’t have my things.”
“We’ll get them later, get out of here now. You stay here, you’re dead, do you understand?”
Trina nodded jerkily and took the keys from Ren’s fingertips.
“But you’ll come for me soon?” she asked in a scared voice.
“I’ll be there soon,” she agreed, but she had no idea if that was the truth or a lie.
Trina made her way to the porch stairs, and then turned suddenly. “They’ve been training,” she whispered.
“Where?”
“I heard them say Miller’s place. Outside of town.”
Good. It wasn’t here, and that would buy her a few minutes.
“You did good.” She twitched her head toward the car. “Go on.”
Trina was shaking. God, she didn’t even want to know what had happened to her in the time Ren had been gone. Guilt slithered through her gut that she hadn’t been there to protect her.
Where was Manning?
Ren stepped slowly across the threshold and looked around the dark corridor. The weight of the marble in her pocket was a comfort as her boots creaked across the floorboards.
The door slammed behind her. Ren startled hard and knelt on instinct, ready to leap into the air and change into her crow.
“You’re trying to set my favorite pet free,” Manning said low.
He was tall and built like a train. His blond hair had been slicked back, and his black eyes bore right through her. She’d always hated the way he looked at her. Like he was trying to decide if he hated her or accepted her.
Something had always been wrong with him.
“You wear my tattoo, you accepted my amulet—”
“Stole your amulet. There’s a difference.”
“Mmm.” His eyes tightened at the corners. “Let’s talk in my office.”
“I’m not staying long.”
His blond brows drew down. “I have your room all ready for you. It’s right beside mine.”
“Well, Mr. Creepy McCreeperstein, I won’t be playing house with you. I just came to return this.” She held up the amulet.
“The chain is broken,” he observed.
“Fit of rage,” she lied.
“Let’s go into my room and talk.”
“No thanks.”
“This isn’t the deal,” he said, stepping closer. “If you want me to stop the war, you have to stay.”
He disappeared in a cloud of deep purple smoke and reappeared in front of her. She’d expected it, and flitted into her crow, dusting him with her own dark blue smoke as she flapped her wings hard and retreated backward.
His hand was reached out and clawed, as if he’d meant for it to be wrapped around her throat.
She changed back and clicked her teeth. “This is why woman don’t like you, Manning.”
“I don’t need them to like me. I need them to respect me.”
Her skin crawled with his words. He was a terrible leader. An awful person, and a despicable man who didn’t understand what the word ‘respect’ meant. A good man didn’t bully people for respect. He earned it. She’d learned that from Bron.
Ren was being cornered, as Manning stalked her. Already she had backed down half of the hallway, past two closed doors. His crows lived in the sprawling house with him.
“Where is the Murder?” she asked just to get him talking. She knew exactly where they were.
“Oh they’re around. Here and there. We’ve been waiting for you, actually.”
He rushed her again suddenly, but again she poof-poofed the fuck away, right into his office this time, where she knew she would have some back-up.
Bron sat behind Manning’s desk with his feet propped up on it like he owned the place.
“Who the hell are you?” Manning demanded from the open doorway.
“Well, that’s a loaded story with a lot of history,” Bron said, gesturing Ren over to him.
Feeling all safe once more, Ren sat on the edge of the desk and wiggled her hips to snuggle in when Bron rested his fingertips on her lower back. “Shall we give him the cliff notes version?” Ren asked.
Bron’s eyes were hard as stone as he studied Manning. “Sure. Childhood friends, I gave her a marble, then we boned.”
Ren nearly choked on a snort. “Nice.”
“Striker!” Manning called to his Second. “Where the fuck are you!” His face was getting red with anger.
“He’s by the shed,” Bron enlightened him. “Maybe he’s alive, maybe not. It was hard to tell when we left him there.”
“What did you do?” he yelled at Ren, his fists clenched. “Traitor.”
“I would watch your tone with her,” Bron advised him. Whoooo the air was getting heavy with tension.
“Do you even know what she is?” Manning asked Bron. “Do you?”
“A good woman,” Bron deadpanned.
“She’s a trophy! She’s been passed from Murder to Murder—”
“That’s not true, I left those Murders—”
“She exists to elevate the status of a King, because that’s the running joke. It’s the running challenge. Whoever can finally tame the whore wins.”
Ren flinched at the pain those words inflicted onto her heart.
“Do you know there’s a bet?” Manning asked. “Do you realize how many Crow Blooded have put money into this pot over the years? Whatever Murder gets you knocked up gets paid. It’s up to almost twenty thousand dollars now.”
She couldn’t look at him anymore. Couldn’t look at him or at Bron. Only the floor as shock and shame rolled over her like a swarm of locusts on her soul.
“Money and bragging rights,” Manning snarled. “That’s all she is.”
Crash! Manning went flying against the wall so hard, the sheetrock busted. Bron was on him before he could recover and yanked him toward the chair. Manning changed into his crow but Bron was lighting fast with his reflexes and changed right along with him. He latched his talons onto Manning’s wing and slammed him into the chair across from where Ren sat frozen on the desk.
In a gust of smoke, Bron changed back and his hand appeared clenched around the giant crow’s throat. “Change back or I will strangle the fuckin’ life from you. As much as I want to right now, I need you to send a message to all of the other Crow Blooded, so this is your chance. Change back, sit down and shut the fuck up, or die and I will find myself another messenger.” Bron leaned into him and whispered, “Because that’s all you are, Manning. You’re not a good man, a good crow, a good general, or a good War Bird. You’re no threat at all. You’re just a messenger.”
Holy. Shit. Ren had thought her crush on Bron couldn’t possibly get any bigger, but now it did.
Manning changed back into his human skin and backed to the wall, rubbing his throat. “My soldiers will be here any moment.”
“No they won’t,” Bron said as he leaned his hip on the desk and canted his head at Manning. “They’re probably dying right now.” He flicked his fingers at the chair. “Sit.”
Manning looked from Ren to Bron, and back to Ren like he was waiting on the punchline.
“I said sit!” Bron roared with a sudden crack of power in his booming voice.
Slowly, Manning obeyed and sat in the chair, his back as stiff as a board. Softly he said, “This is my territory, and I would know if a war was happening. My army is just down the road. They’ll be here any second.”
“Mmmm,” Ren hummed. “No they won’t, and that part is my fault.” She smiled. “I started a rumor.”
“She’s very good at her job,” Bron said.
“Thank you,” she told Bron. She really loved compliments. To Manning, she said, “I let everyone think I was still part of your Murder, collecting intel for you on the bear shifter alliance. Luckily for me, your army was thrown together last minute, and it made my job a lot easier. It wasn’t even that hard to throw a wrench in your machine, Manning. It was almost too easy to muck up all your plans. I sent your army to Krome’s territory early. Sent them there when we were ready for them.”
“No.” Manning shook his head. “You didn’t. You couldn’t.”
Ren stood and locked her arms on the desk. “You were going to kill my friends.”
“That’s war,” Manning snapped. “Your friends started a war—”
“Existing does not start a war! That’s all they’re doing. They’re not aiming for anyone or seeking any type of vengeance. They were just trying to live. To be left alone and create a life they wanted.” She jammed her finger at him. “You fuckin’ Crow Blooded War Birds pride yourselves on being strong, but it’s weak to be offended by someone for just existing. If you don’t like something they’re doing? Look the other way. They aren’t hurting anyone. Not everyone’s business is your business.” She relaxed and straightened her spine. “Well, they weren’t hurting anyone,” she corrected herself. “Now I can’t say that for sure. Everything that happens in this war is on the Crow Blooded. This Crew won’t be pushed around, and you can’t control them. And let it sink in what I’m about to say. No one. Gives a shit. If you are offended by the life they’re living. No one but you. It’s a sad way to live, hating someone so much because they are doing something you can’t control. Waste of time, but it’s your time, so if you want to waste it, that’s your right. For us,” she said, looking to Bron, and growing emboldened by the pride in his eyes. “We’re going to spend our time being happy.”
“You’ve betrayed your people. I offered you safety.”
“That’s what you never understood, Manning. Building me a cage is not providing safety. Just like building a cage for the Banes was never going to work. You can’t give them a list of rules to live by. They aren’t yours or mine or anyone’s to control.”
“Don’t want to control them, Ren.” A coldness took his pitch-black eyes that dragged chills up her forearms. “We want to kill them.”
“At the expense of your people.”
Manning lifted his chin higher and offered an empty smile. “They can’t kill. They have mates now. They have a reason to stay sane, and it’s taken some of their power.”
Bron gave off a single laugh, and his eyes danced with amusement. Ren bit back a laugh at how dumb Manning really was. “Where did you hear that?”
“We all know it. We’ve all realized it.”
Ren arched her eyebrows and nodded. “You’re serious right now.” She cleared her throat, and explained, “So they don’t want to kill now, but that doesn’t take their power. They are controlled when they fight. They maim, not kill, and sometimes that’s worse. You and the War Birds and the council have what? Gotten together and chatted about how helpless the Banes are now? How they’ve been tamed by love?” Ren jerked her chin toward the window behind Manning.
When he turned around, he let off a string of curses and scooted his chair loudly across the wood floors to put distance between him and the towering menace of a man he saw there.
Moore Bane’s silver eyes were filled with undiluted hunger as he tracked Manning’s progress across the floor.
“That boy ain’t tamed,” she pointed out. “Their mating bonds made them even more powerful.”
Bron picked up a stack of Manning’s disheveled papers off his desk and tapped them on the desk, straightening them into an organize pile. “We did pull the Banes off this fight though, just to keep them protected. We brought them here to take care of you and your Murder. The army, Krome and the others can take care of.”
“What others?”
“We made a Crew!” Ren enlightened him. “A band of brawlers and delinquents who have no problem with war.”
Manning’s office line rang and Ren leaned over to check the caller ID, then sucked air in past her teeth in mock sympathy. “The council is calling you.” She put the call on speaker as she picked up.
“Help!” Manning yelled immediately.
“Help you what, you brainless sack of shit?” The head of the council, Reign Tiergan, growled. “Can you explain to me, General, why we just got a panicked call from our War Birds saying there was some sort of miscommunication on where the fucking war was to take place?” Whoo, Ren had never talked to Reign in person before, only heard of him, but he was a yeller, and he sounded pissed.
Ren wished she had popcorn.
“I…I don’t understand,” Manning stammered.
“They went to Krome’s territory on your order to eliminate the exposed bears and the rest of that goddamn crippled Murder, so please explain to my why there are no fucking bears there, and in their place is an army of fucking werewolves and big cat shifters? They have a fucking bald eagle, General.”
Heheheeeee, even Bron was smiling. He leaned back in the office chair and drew lazy circles on her lower back.
“It wasn’t my order. It was Ren! She betrayed us—”
“You no longer have a job as General, or a place as King of your Murder anymore. You are stripped of all rank. Any losses we took today are on you.”
Click, click, bang, bang, bang! It sounded like Reign was slamming the phone into the sling over and over before the line finally went dead.
In the dead silence, Bron looked at the glowing screen of his phone and said, “Crucial update: Krome said the war was fun and the new pledges did great with the team-building exercise. He’s offering spots to Tommy Lang—”
“—oh a werewolf, nice,” she chimed in. “I liked him! What about the shorter guy who won the whole beer pong tournament yesterday?” She snapped her fingers trying to recall his name. “The one who was partners with the one-eyed Crow Blooded. The quiet one?”
“Oh!” Bron said. “Divar. The one with the epic beard.”
“Yes! I liked him. Is he on there?”
“Yup,” Bron said, studying the pledge list Krome has sent him. “Oh, Manning, I know you’re having a rough day at the office, but Krome is asking if you want to see a picture of the aftermath of the little war you built? Or nah? Looks like half of your army was wiped out.” He clicked his tongue behind his teeth. “Such a waste.”
Manning was staring at the floor with wide eyes, and Moore was staring at him through the window like he wanted to splash some Tabasco sauce on him and eat him right up.
“Are you going to kill me?” Manning asked softly.
“Depends,” Bron said. “Are you going seek vengeance and come after us again? Because if you are, we might as well just end this right now. Or are you going to try and corner my mate again? Because in that case, it’s best you die now.”
Manning swallowed hard. “I won’t do either.”
“Mmm,” Bron murmured, his black eyes narrowed to slits. “I don’t know if I believe you. Maybe you should swear on something you love.”
“So, swear on yourself,” Ren suggested.
Manning’s face twisted with anger and he muttered, “I swear on myself I won’t come after your Crew, or you.”
Ren angled her face and studied him for a few seconds, and then stood. “Well, this has been fun.” She set the amulet on the table. “I absolutely do not accept this and never did, just to be clear. You will leave Trina alone, too.”
Ren stood and Bron rested his fingertips on the small of her back as he guided her out. She didn’t miss it though. He kept himself between Manning and her. Safe, safe, safe. Bron kept her safe.
She paused by the door that used to belong to her. On a whim, she pushed it open and scanned the small room she and Trina had shared. It was a cold room with white walls, white sheets, and a dresser she knew if she opened would only have a few of Trina’s belongings.
“This was yours?” Bron murmured.
She nodded.
“Never again,” he said softly as he reached forward and pulled it closed. “From today on, you choose your life.”
No words had ever touched her quite so much as those. Her future was her own. It was really hers. For the first time in so long, she wasn’t going to live day to day, on the verge of leaving or staying. Now, with purpose, she would plan her future.
And as Bron slipped his strong hand around hers and led her out of that house, she knew she would plan her future with him.
The Bane brothers were waiting for them outside, and together they walked to the tree line where they’d parked the truck. She looked up at Bron, and he told her, “You’re okay.”
And she was.
For the first time in forever, because of him, everything felt okay.
