Page 219 of Broken Bonds

Hopefully, Morning’s intel is solid. The attacks on the vampires always come in the daytime. I mean, that’s logical, right? No rocket science required there.

But what Sterling doesn’t expect is a huge contingent of shifters, witches, and fae banding together to defeat the attackers. Any of Sterling’s men who survive and try to retreat will quickly find themselves up against a wall of rage-fueled magick holding them at bay until the rest of us can mop them up.

I know Father’s irate I nixed the idea of him coming with us, too. Except I’m certain he left unsaid his understanding—if something happens to me, I need him there to step back in and resume control of the pack.

I also want his expertise there to help protect everyone.

Alizée was asked to stay behind as well, which she wasn’t happy about but understood.

When we arrive, and I talk to Morning in private, he admits it’s because they worry she might break ranks in a vengeful rage. If she’s focused on protecting the refugees, they know she’ll remain in control.

I listened in on Freya and Mal’s call with Sterling, glad that Morning muted it on our end, because plenty of us cheered them on. When it ends, Morning looks at me with a beaming smile. “Oh, it’s definitely on.”

Then he pulls up a feed on his laptop, of the bugs, and the one in Sterling’s office is nearly incoherent from him screaming for people.

Marchman and Morning high-five each other. “You called that right,” Marchman says to Morning.

“He has one group already en route to Dallas,” Dahlia says.

Morning smiles, holds up a finger, and we listen as Sterling pulls it together enough to call someone and order them to bring back their best people for a new plan.

“I don’t care if they’re injured!” he screams into a phone. “If they don’t get their asses moving, they’re going to be dead!”

Morning rubs his hands together in a playfully evil way. “Excellent. He’ll concentrate the majority of his people in Birmingham.” He points out the decoy site on a paper map laid on the table. “We picked Birmingham because of its proximity to Atlanta,” he explains. “Close enough for him to quickly deploy people, but far enough we’ll have a cushion of time to go in and get him before he can run.”

We listen as Sterling makes more phone calls, including to his sons, ordering people to invade the nest tomorrow morning and kill everyone, including Mal and Freya.

“Well, at least he bought it,” Dahlia says. “Now we’ll only have to worry about him having human security.”

“How do you know that?” I ask.

“Because he’ll send every shifter to Birmingham and Dallas,” Morning says. “All he’ll have are humans, likely off-duty policemen, who obviously won’t know he’s a shifter.”

Sterling could have easily left us alone, and we would have left him alone.

But no, dictator-wannabes will attempt to eliminate any perceived threat because they know how unpopular they are and can’t handle the thought of ever losing power.

Sorry, but America’s not run like that, no matter how many generations of human politicians and rich oligarchs have attempted to shit on our Constitution. If Sterling gets his way, he’ll start a war that no one will win. Because it’ll never end. These kinds of wars never do. They regenerate time and again: religion, country, skin tone, tribe, political affiliation—it doesn’t matter. “Othering” people is unfortunately a bug baked into every sentient being’s brain, and if people don’t take active steps to eradicate its seductive lure, it’s easy to look back at some point just to realize you followed the crowd in the name of some bullshit righteous cause.

That evening, we move out and arrive at the staging area to find over seventy people waiting. Shifters, vampires, witches, and fae. I’m apparently the only pack Alpha in the group, so Morning asks me to speak to the crowd in the capacity of a leader, as will he, Dahlia, and Marchman.

I walk into the center of the group, flanked by Dahlia, Marchman, and Morning.

Everyone gathers around, falling silent.

“I appreciate you all being here,” I start. “Sterling is our enemy. Not each other, and not humans. I don’t want to take over the country. Hell, I have my paws full minding my own pack. All I want to do is live in peace. We’ve expended so much energy and, let’s be honest, wealth, to stay in the shadows throughout history. I’m going to be a father in a few months, and all I want is for my pups to grow up safe and happy, not fighting in pointless grudge wars for a bullshit reason that boils down to someone being a narcissistic asshole. Those of us who’ve been around longer than the average human have seen them repeat this cycle ad nauseam because they’re short-lived idiots incapable of learning from their mistakes, but there’s no reason for us to fall into that trap and attack each other.”

“Here, here,” Morning grimly says.

“Morning asked me to speak to you as a pack Alpha, but I’d rather speak as a father-to-be. Once we eliminate Sterling as a threat, I want us to form a formal coalition. To keep this from happening again. To show people like Sterling that we are united. There’s no reason for us to stay in the shadows, at risk from people like Sterling, who don’t have our best interests at heart. Sunlight—no offense, Marchman—is the best disinfectant to take care of people like Sterling.”

Even Marchman and the vampires smile as others laugh.

I step aside for Morning, Dahlia, and Marchman to take over. After addressing their respective groups, Morning takes over and details the plan. Because of the bait, the majority of Sterling’s people are being sent to Birmingham, with no more than fifteen sent to Dallas with orders to wipe out everyone there that they find.

The poor idiots sent to Dallas expect to find refugee women and children.

What they’ll find awaiting them is a warehouse full of well-armed US Marshals. That should be…fun for Sterling’s people.