Chapter 171

#Chapter 171 – Good friends in tough places Delia scrambles, her vision darkening as Joyce squeezes her throat even tighter. She can’t think –

can’t breathe –

All she can do is look into his cruel face, his teeth elongating before her eyes, his rage overtaking his desire for information –

Then, suddenly, there’s a crash and the pressure on her throat lessens –

Delia gasps, welcoming the fresh rush of oxygen that floods her throat, falling to her knees. Her hands go directly to her neck, soothing her wounded skin, but she frantically looks around, trying to figure out what –

There – on the floor, Joyce, his eyes closed and his mouth open – glass and liquid scattered all over his back and around him – as Delia, breathes her nose smarts at the scent –

Delia’s eye flit upwards to see Cliff standing there, the neck of a broken liquor bottle in his hand, staring down at Joyce.

“Knew he was trouble,” Cliff says quietly, “the moment he walked in.”

Delia can’t help the shocked little laugh that comes out of her then. Cliff looks at her then, shaking his head, offering a hand to help her up.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says, her knees shaking a little. “I wasn’t…expecting it to go so bad so fast.”

Cliff just shrugs. “I don’t like it when strangers come in and mess with my favorite customers.”

Truly touched, Delia suddenly wraps her arms around him in thanks. She and Evelyn had been coming here for years, and while they had quickly developed an affection for the gruff bartender, they had never known it to be reciprocated.

Cliff hesitates for a moment and then pats Delia on the back. “There there,” he says, awkwardly, as if he can’t think of anything else to say.

Delia laughs and pushes away. “Do you want to help me with one last thing?”

Cliff glances around the room at the customers who are studiously minding their own business and then nods.

“Okay,” Delia says, walking to stand at Joyce’s feet. “You take the front, I take the back. We have to get him to my trunk.”

Cliff sighs and then nods briskly. “Fine, but take him out the back. Don’t want to upset the customers more than you have already.”

Delia gives Cliff a grin. “Whatever you say, boss,” she says as she leans down to heft Joyce’s legs up.

It’s almost midnight and Victor is surprised to see that Alvin is still up, helping Victor to keep organized while he makes plans to shut down the little cottage and move to the Beta camp for the start of the campaign against Walsh.

During a lull, when Betas have moved to prepare the necessary cars, Victor leans down and crooks a finger at Alvin, asking him to come over.

Excited, Alvin finishes neatening a pile of paperwork and then dashes over to his father. “Ready for duty, sir!” Alvin says, shooting him a little salute.

“What are you still doing up?” Victor asks, working to keep his face serious.

Alvin frowns at him, confused. “I’m…helping?”

Victor nods slowly at him. “Yes, you’re being very helpful,” he says. “But aren’t you tired? You’re a civilian, son – you’re not required to help us unless you want to.”

Alvin nods firmy, looking up at his father with determination. “I want to help,” he says, simply and firmly.

Victor sighs and goes to one knee in front of his son, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And I appreciate your help, son,” he says, “but you haven’t to remember that you’re only six –“

“Almost seven!” Alvin interrupts, seeing where the conversation is headed.

Victor’s mouth quirks at that but he contains himself. “Almost seven, yes. But still, quite a bit younger than even our youngest recruit. You have to take care of yourself, Alvin, which means sleeping when you’re sleepy.”

Alvin nods, understanding. “But I’m not sleepy yet.”

Victor studies his son’s face and knows this is a bit of a lie – Alvin’s clearly running on adrenaline. But, he’s also the heir to the pack. Victor isn’t going to stop him from participating in the running of it, at least not until it’s fully necessary. A boy can stand one late night.

Victor considers this for a moment, though. One late night, but then…

This campaign was going to be long and complicated. What, really, was he going to do with his son when he went away to war?

“Alvin,” Victor says. “We’re going to the camp tonight – the Betas and I. So that we can make a big push in a few days. We’re going to…try to get mommy back. And also move against some of our enemies.”

Alvin nods eagerly, understanding.

“But,” Victor says, and Alvin’s face drops, knowing what’s coming next. “Alvin,” Victor continues, “I want you to stay here. With Burton, and aunt Bridgette. Where you’ll be safe.”

Alvin’s face falls further, growing pale with disappointment – but then, Victor is surprised to see it grow red. With anger.

“No,” Alvin says, balling his little fists and stomping his foot. “No, I’m going with you. You can’t stop me.”

Victor holds back a laugh at this – of course he can stop him – but Alvin shakes his head firmly.

“No,” Alvin says again. “Ian gets to be there – he’s going to be right there with mommy, so you can’t leave me behind.”

Victor considers this. “Well, that’s true. But if it were up to me, I’d make sure Ian stayed home too, safe and sound. You’re both still kids, Alvin – it’s my job to keep you safe.”

“We’re not just kids, dad,” Alvin says, his voice softer, though his face is still red with his anger.

Victor blinks at this. What?

“Ian and I,” Alvin continues, “I know we’re little – but we are…special. We can do things, papa. We can help you – we helped you at the trial to decide who owned the pack! You wouldn’t have won without us!”

“You put yourself in unnecessary danger,” Victor says sternly, “entering an active war zone when you knew you weren’t supposed to.”

“Papa,” Alvin says, plaintively, his eyes wide. “This is our life, our world. We have to learn all about it. If we are going to war, teach me how to go to war. You can make the rules – I promise I will follow them.

But let me go, let me help.”

Victor’s eyes soften as he studies his son. Usually, he sees so much of himself in the boys – they look just like him, smell like him, act like him. But in this moment…he sees so much of Evelyn in Alvin’s earnest sincerity, his desire to act, to help.

Despite himself, Victor feels moved. Taking his hand off his son’s shoulder, Victor looks at the floor, considering it. Alvin stays perfectly still and quiet, letting him think. Alvin knows – as Evelyn usually does – that he’s won, but he lets Victor come to it on his own terms.

“All right,” Victor says softly, and then he looks up at Alvin’s bright face, where he’s trying to hold back a smile. “You can come to the Beta camp, and then we’ll decide what your role is in this. But,” Victor holds up a stern finger.

“You must promise me,” Victor continues, “to follow my rules at all times. No matter what. Okay?”

“Okay, papa!” Alvin agrees nodding enthusiastically. Victor can’t help but laugh.

“Okay,” Victor agrees, standing. “Go upstairs and pack a bag. All black clothes, if you have them.”

Alvin scurries up the stairs, eager to get started, and Victor watches him fondly as he goes.

He’s surprised, though, to hear a voice at the entrance to the living room. He wasn’t aware that someone else was there.

“What about me, papa,” Rafe says, smirking, imitating Alvin’s use of the word. “If the little boys can go, can I come play as well?”

Victor just narrows his eyes at him.

“Oh, come on,” Rafe says, laughing as he crosses his arms. “You’ll let the six-year-old go, but not me?”

“The six-year-old,” Victor says coldly. “Didn’t just betray me.”

“Come on, Victor,” Rafe says, spreading his hands and shaking his head. “What can I do to show you that I’m on your side?”

Victor turns to face him and considers. “Let me put you under Alpha command,” he says. “To follow my every instruction.” Rafe blinks at this, surprised. It’s not usually something done, to an Alpha of equal rank. But he just takes a moment to consider.

“Fine,” Rafe says, nodding. “Go ahead. Lay it on me.”

Victor takes two steps forward to do just that.