Moon Sworn (Riley Jenson Guardian 9)

If he knew we were coming - and he surely did by now - then this is where he'd be.

Of course, our confrontation would not happen in the hall itself, but rather in the arena behind it. It was here where the blood disputes were handled and where the challengers to leadership were heard and decided.

Blake had killed my grandfather and taken over the leadership there, and now it was where he would meet his own death.

Behind us, the crowd continued to grow, sweeping in behind us and effectively cutting off our exit. The scent of wolf and home and anticipation swirled around me, filling my lungs and twisting my stomach. I flexed my fingers, but it didn't do much to help me relax.

Then two figures appeared out of the building above us. Both were males, broad of shoulders and strong of build. Both wore contemptuous expressions.

Blake and his brother Tyson.

I glanced at my watch. It was after six. Jack's half of the operation had already swung into action. If Blake had any suspicion that his empire was crumbling around his ears, he wouldn't be standing there so calmly.

We stopped when there were still ten feet or so between us, with Rhoan slightly behind me. This was my gig, my revenge. He was here as my second and my backup, though in truth he was a better fighter than me. And he'd need to be to take out Tyson, who was almost half his width again.

"You trespass, wolf," Blake said, his voice booming out across the windswept silence.

"And you, Blake Jenson, stand accused of fraud, kidnap, and murder." I took a piece of paper out of my pocket and threw it at his feet. "You may read the charges if you wish."

He didn't bother looking at the paper, just left it fluttering at his feet. "So you're here to arrest me?" His expression was mocking. Contemptuous. "You and I both know that pack land rights give you no such power."

"Pack land rights give the police no power," I corrected. "But we're not police. And we're not here to arrest you."

"Then what are you here for?"

"To carry out the sentence."

A murmur went through the crowd, rising and falling like a tide. Neither Blake nor Tyson seemed concerned.

"As I said, pack law gives me protection. Kill me, and my family will see to it that you, the Directorate, and everyone in your family pays for it - legally and monetarily."

I smiled thinly, my expression no doubt as contemptuous as his. "Right now, both your family and Tyson's -

every son, daughter, brother, and sister - are being rounded up by Directorate personnel. Their fate very much depends on just how deeply they've been involved in your schemes. Personally, I wouldn't care if they wiped out every last trace of your DNA from this earth."

That wiped the smiles off their faces. Blake clenched his fists and took a step forward. "You wouldn't dare."

I stepped forward, meeting him glare for glare. "I warned you what would happen if you came after us again. And this is just the beginning."

"What do you mean?" Tyson said, and just for a moment, there was doubt and uncertainty in his expression. But Tyson, for all his size, had never been half the powerhouse that his brother was.

"I mean," I said softly, my gaze not wavering from Blake's, "that I challenge you to ad vitam aeternam." Which was an old Latin phrase that meant to eternal life.

In other words, a fight to the death.

His eyes widened ever so briefly, then he threw his head back and laughed.

Laughed.

The man was a bigger fool than I'd thought.

No one else seemed to find it funny. Not even his brother, whose expression now wavered between uncertainty and fear. Tyson obviously had some sense of the trouble they were in. Blake didn't.

"Riley, Riley, Riley," Blake said, wiping at his eyes as if there were tears of mirth there. "I couldn't have asked for a better solution to our problem."

I raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Because I've been going out of my way not to kill you, and here you hand me the perfect opportunity with no chance of repercussion from the Directorate." He shook his head, as if he couldn't quite believe his luck. "I shall enjoy ripping your throat out, in much the same way as I enjoyed ripping out your grandfather's."