The Alpha's Daughter (42 page)

Roger Wilson was the first to approach,
holding tightly to Didi Haines' hand. Blood seeped through the
scarf tied around his bicep, a scarf Jazz was sure she'd seen Didi
wear. Roger bowed deferentially to Griz and Jazz was pleased to
feel that Roger's relief was the greatest of all.

"Alpha," he said quietly, "There are wounded
to be seen to and… and the dead."

A few others stepped up beside him, ready to
help.

Griz nodded, setting aside his personal
demons and taking command. "If they can be moved, get the wounded
into my house. I'll carry the Alpha home for…" He winced and
touched his side where the bullet had struck him. His hand came
away covered in blood. One more problem to be dealt with. "Roger,
the old Alpha needs to be carried home. Would you…?"

"I'd be honored, Alpha." Roger started to
stoop down and held out his hand, "Miz Mary, it's time," he said
gently and then, "Oh, God."

The Mate had not moved from her position
except to turn her head and rest it against her beloved's chest.
She knelt, curled in a small ball beside him and looked as if she
was listening to the soothing rhythm of his heart. Her smile was
the same as her mate's, contented and at peace. It was only the
unnatural stillness of her body that told them she, too, had
passed.

"Daughter of my pack, go in peace. Someday
we'll run together in Heaven," Jazz whispered, remembering the
Mate's words. Tears poured down her cheeks. "She knew. She said it,
but I wasn't listening. We've done our final duty and now we can go
home. She said we, Griz, she knew. I should have heard her." She
choked on her words. "I should have said good-bye."

Jazz was suddenly surrounded by the women of
her pack. Hands touched her arms, patted her back and stroked her
hair. Ellie and Donna, Edith and Edna, Sandy Wardman and Betty
Gruber and even Didi Haines closed ranks around her.

"I should have told her that I loved her,"
Jazz sobbed into the wad of tissues someone stuffed into her
hand.

No one since her mother died had seen her the
way Miz Mary did. No one else had told her she was worth being
loved. Jazz looked around at the concerned faces surrounding her.
Miz Mary had given her this. Gilead, these women, this pack, the
man she loved; Miz Mary had given her it all.

"I should have thanked her. I should have
told her. She never knew," Jazz wailed and the truth was that Jazz
hadn't really known it either until the opportunity to thank her
friend was lost.

"Of course she did, dear," Edna said.

"She was the Mate," Edith explained.

"She loved you too," Ellie said softly, "She
was the one who made you the gown."

This news made Jazz sob all the more.

"When we told her how we found you that first
morning, she laughed and laughed," Edna giggled.

"And as soon as she met you at Court, she
knew right away that you were the one," Edith added.

Jazz sniffled back the tears. "The one?" she
asked, looking around the group of smiling women.

"The one to pull Doc's head out of his ass
and make him see the light." Leave it to Donna to say it straight.
Donna looked at the stunned faces of the women around her and
shrugged. "What?"

"You shouldn't say things like that to her
now," her sister chided. She poked her head toward Jazz. "She's the
Mate."

That, at last, made Jazz smile. "Sure she
should. I haven't changed. She can say anything she likes in any
way she likes. So can you all." She paused and her smile became
wider. "Except for fuck. You can only use that in extreme
circumstances. Otherwise it's bumpin' uglies from here on in."
Traditions were important and should be maintained.

Ellie used another tissue to wipe the
remaining tears from Jazz's eyes. "Miz Mary went the way she wanted
to go, the same way she lived, side by side with the man she loved.
Her pack was settled with a new Alpha and Mate, just the way she
planned."

"She arranged all this?" Jazz asked, "Griz as
Alpha, me as Mate?" Old doubts began to rise to the surface. "Was
that all I was, a means to an end?"

"Miz Mary wouldn't do that." Edith sounded
affronted on her old friend's behalf.

"She'd never have forced anyone to do what
wasn't in their heart to do," Edna added.

Ever the peacemaker, Ellie took Jazz's hand
in hers. "Miz Mary arranged the circumstances. The choice was left
to you and Griz." And then she laughed. "But we wanted her plan to
succeed."

"We hoped."

"We kept our fingers crossed."

"Hell, I got down on my knees and prayed,"
Didi laughed, "And that ain't easy in these heels."

"But that day on the porch…" Jazz remembered
it clearly. Didi practically threw herself at Griz.

"That was Miz Mary's idea, too. She said I
ought to be using my talent where it would do the most good instead
of pissing off every woman in town." Didi shrugged. "Making Roger
jealous wasn't doing me much good. His will is stronger than you
think. Now that it's done…" She offered a wry smile to Jazz. "…He
can be happy with me."

"You're not Roger's consolation prize, Didi.
He's relieved that he didn't get the job. I know." Jazz tapped her
heart. No woman wanted to be second best and Didi had waited a long
time for happiness.

"Thanks," Didi said looking somewhat
surprised. "It's nice that you'd tell me, but Roger told me a long
time ago how much he loved me." She glared at the others. "I know
what you think of him, but you're wrong. Roger knew he wasn't meant
to be the Alpha, but no one else was stepping up to the plate and
he knew how sick the Alpha was. Roger was willing to sacrifice
every damn thing that was important to him for the welfare of this
pack and he would have done it, too, knowing that sooner or later
he'd piss someone off enough that they'd Challenge. And still, he
was willing to do that for Gilead. For you," Didi said and looked
like she, too, was going to cry.

Jazz locked away her own turmoil as some
primal instinct kicked in and told her what she needed to do for
the woman who had so many mixed emotions broiling inside. Poor
Didi, loving a man she couldn't have, listening to the snide
comments about him without having a mate's right to defend and
watching him plan to mate another to solidify his position as
something he didn't want to be.

She built a room in her heart for Didi and
took those feelings in.

"Roger Wilson is a good man," she agreed and
saw the woman visibly relax. Seeing Roger through Didi's eyes made
her see something else. "The Alpha knew it and loved him for it.
Griz saw it, too. We all say 'Pack comes first', but Roger was
willing to live those words." She smiled and nudged Didi with her
elbow. "I hope he appreciates the woman who made the sacrifice with
him, because I do."

Once more, Miz Mary was right. People weren't
always what they seemed. Didi smiled, no longer calculating, but
friendly. Jazz felt Didi's room grow smaller and eventually
disappear.

"Come on, girls," Jazz said, understanding
what it was she was meant to do. "Miz Mary wouldn't appreciate us
standing around throwing a pity party. We have work to do. We'll
finish our mourning when it's done."

Jasmine Goodman's journey as an Alpha's Mate
had begun and the on the job training she received that day would
last her for a lifetime.

That was how it went for the rest of the
night and the following day.

People came to her or she to them. She took
their troubles and pain and fear and built rooms for them all in
her heart, but it wasn't the same as with Didi. These rooms just
grew more and more crammed with people's worries and grief until
her heart was ready to burst. In less than an hour, she was ready
to scream, fight or kill. Shit! How did Miz Mary take it?

When she'd built her first room, she'd
thought this would be easy!

As much as she loved the show of support and
affection shown by her pack sisters, Jazz wanted her grizzly. She
wanted his big hand holding her head to his chest and telling her
everything would be okay. She wanted him to laugh at her fears and
hold her hand anyway. She wanted him to tease her out of the tears
that threatened to spill at every turn and she needed him to tell
her she wasn't crazy for the feelings that were churning up inside
her.

She needed him to help her find some kind of
release before she exploded, but Griz had his own problems. One,
there were injuries he needed to repair with his magic. Two, Brad
and the woman who'd been shot at random, were testing his skills as
a healer and surgeon. Jazz knew this not only because she'd taken
on Livvy's concern for Brad and Ellie's concern for them both, but
because she felt it and heard it in her mate's mind. The channel
was open between them, but Jazz couldn't bring herself to burden
him further. He was faring no better than she was. She would have
to face this alone.

It was her anger at Cho that finally gave her
a clue to the pent up emotion's release.

Cho got what he had coming. He earned it. He
was a coward and a bully and a murderer. There was no other way it
could have ended. Hell, Jazz would have gladly killed him herself
outside the Tooth and Fang to prevent all the pain and heartache
he'd caused here in Gilead. He deserved to die.

She should have cheered, but thanks to the
little bastard, there was another room built in her heart, a heart
already overloaded with new construction to hold the anguish of her
pack. That room held the heart-rending pain of his family. Cho had
everything that should be important. He had friends and family who
loved him, and he'd thrown it all away.

She couldn't feel his parents like she did
the others. They weren't members of her pack, but it didn't take
any special talent to see the crushing blow that Griz dealt them
when he told them their son was dead.

Opal had not run away to hide. She'd taken
off through the woods, running toward the rogue encampment on the
ridge. With Livvy's cell phone in her hand, she'd run close to five
miles before she had the bars to call Boss Seaward to come and stop
his son from bringing hell to Gilead.

They came roaring up the road, Boss Seaward
in the lead with his mate clinging behind him on the classic Harley
followed by ten others from his band. They were twenty minutes too
late.

Their arrival sent a ripple of panic through
the pack. The moon had not yet set and several men flashed to wolf
in anticipation of another attack. This set off a chain reaction
and the rogues were surrounded by snarling wolves before their
motorcycles had completely stopped. Leaping from their bikes,
several of Seaward's men changed as well.

"Enough!" Griz's command reverberated over
the crowd on a wave of power as he strode through the snarling
mass. "There's been enough blood shed here tonight. There'll be no
more," he said more quietly and yet every member of the pack heard
him.

Sharp pops of light dotted the crowd as men
came home to human.

"Stand down," Seaward said to those behind
him as he swung his leg over the seat and dismounted and his men
obeyed. He held out his hand to Griz.

"The old wolf?" Seaward asked.

"Gone," Griz said solemnly as they shook.

"My son?" There was no mistaking which son he
meant.

"Cho's gone, too."

There was nothing more he could say and no
other way to say it. There was no 'He fought bravely. We'll miss
him. He was a good man.' to add to it. There were only the hard,
cruel words. "Your son is dead."

Jazz watched Seaward's body deflate. His
shoulders slumped with the weight of the news. He hung his head and
nodded sadly, accepting the inevitable outcome of his son's
reckless pursuit of power.

It wasn't Seaward's reaction that had Jazz
running full tilt through the crowd. It was Seaward's mate, Mary.
She, too, had to have known, but it wasn't until she heard the
words that she buckled in half, arms clutching her abdomen as if
she'd been stabbed. Her knees gave way and she collapsed on them to
the ground. No one moved to help her ride out her obvious pain.

Jazz slid to her knees in front of the woman
and gathered her in her arms. "I'm sorry," she crooned, rocking the
woman back and forth. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Why?" the woman whispered over and over and
Jazz understood she wasn't asking why Jazz was sorry or why they
had killed her son, but why had things turned out as they did. Why
had her cub become a monster?

These wolvers were rogue. They lived their
lives outside the pack, but they weren't evil and they hadn't
raised their son to be. The proof was in their other son, Brad,
clinging to life in his room upstairs.

"I don't know," Jazz told her honestly,
keeping her voice soft and letting her compassion flow from her
heart. "But I'm sorry. I'm sorry you lost your son."

And amazingly, she felt her own burden
ease.

"What's she doing giving sympathy to the
bitch who bred that beast?"

"She should be tending to her own pack."

Angry whispers ran through the crowd. Jazz
ignored them until Seaward came to fetch his mate.

"Take her inside to see Brad. She needs a
reminder of what she has left. You both do. Get Livvy to tell you
what he did, how good and brave he is," Jazz told him. "It won't
ease your pain, but it will make you proud." She waited until the
door closed behind them before she turned on her pack.

The pain in Jazz's heart eased a little more,
but the spiteful whispers continued to buzz around her and her
anger exploded.

"I get it! I understand you're pissed off
beyond belief," she shouted at them when their comments continued.
She drew a line with her finger across her neck. "I feel it. Right
up to here! But damnit, save it for the ones who did this, not her.
You saw her! Do you think her pain is any less than your own? She's
a mother. She's grieving for the pup she carried in her belly and
held in her arms." Her eyes were blazing as she advanced on
them.