Karl thought he'd stacked the deck in his favor, only it hadn't turned out that way. Now he lay dead in Randall Wilburn's horse pasture, his eyes wide and staring sightlessly at the stars overhead. I still had no idea what kept Karl's buddy Elias from allowing me to fry in the sun, but the FBI likely had him in custody. Kellee was at Winkler's mansion, thinking that daddy was going to bring her a crown and make her princess of the Dallas Pack. If she'd loved Winkler and he'd loved her, that crown would have been hers anyway. Now she was fatherless and pregnant in enemy territory.
"I'll take care of the bodies," Randall Wilburn offered. Trajan stepped up to help. Winkler, who'd stood back and watched the whole thing, asked Weldon if he and Davis could ride back to the house with him and Thomas.
"I can leave our car here for Trajan. Lissa, will you come back with me now?" Winkler turned to me, begging me with his eyes if not his voice.
"Lissa, I want to talk to you, anyway," Weldon said quietly.
"Fine." I bent down and wiped my bloody claws off on P.J.'s pants; he really didn't need them anymore.
"R.J., do you need a ride?" Weldon turned to P.J.'s brother. Karl should never have allowed him to come, but Karl had been so confident and I figured R.J. wanted to see his brother help take down a Packmaster of Winkler's status.
"I'll take him to the airport," Randall Wilburn offered. R.J. dropped by his brother's decapitated body and sobbed. I felt sorry for him. I might have felt sorrier for Winkler, Davis and myself if things had gone the other way.
Weldon drove one of the golf carts; Winkler drove the other. I rode with Weldon, Thomas and Davis went with Winkler. Shelly Wilburn stood on the back porch of her ranch house and watched as we drove up. She knew, just by seeing who'd come back that Winkler was still Dallas Packmaster and she nodded respectfully to him. We didn't go through the house; we walked through the side yard and out the gate next to the garage. Weldon, Davis and I got the back seat of Winkler's car, Winkler drove and Thomas sat up front with him. I was wedged in the back seat between Davis and Weldon.
The drive to Denton was nearly half over before Weldon spoke. "Lissa, you are Pack."
I'd been lost in my own thoughts, thinking about P.J. and Karl and what Karl had hoped to gain and hadn't. I'd also been wondering how much Kellee loved her father and about Kellee's mother. Well, they weren't my problem. Except that they were, as it turns out. "I know, Grand Master." I didn't use his title often, but felt it was warranted under the circumstances.
"Lissa, when you successfully fought off Karl's Second, you kept the Dallas Pack in Winkler's hands."
"I know, Grand Master."
"Lissa, the challenging Packmaster attacked you afterward without issuing a formal challenge against you. You took him down. Do you know what that means?"
Until then I'd been looking at Weldon's shirt; he hadn't worn his usual flannel—it was too warm this far south for it. Instead, he had a short-sleeved polo shirt on and he looked nice in it. It was yellow and that was a good color for him. Now I looked up at his face. He was gazing down at me and he smiled just a little. "No," I said. "What does that mean?"
"It means you are Packmaster for the Boise Pack."
That shocked me, all right. "Weldon," I said when I got my breath back, "I can't be Packmaster for Boise or any other city. I have to go home in three weeks. There's no way I can do anything from there."
"The option you have is to name your replacement, and that replacement has to agree and be willing to fight off any challenges that come along from members of that Pack."
Weldon's words sank in slowly. I didn't know a soul in Boise. I'd never even been introduced to Kellee's mother and I didn't think she'd be charitable enough to hand over a list of names. I had to think about the werewolves I did know, I guess.
I turned to look at Davis, who sat on my other side. "Davis, would you like the Boise Pack?" Davis' eyebrows rose sharply. Winkler's ears perked up too—I was offering his Second a Pack of his own.
Weldon looked at Davis over my head. I don't know what silent communication passed between them but Davis smiled slowly at me. "Yeah. I think I would," he grinned.
"I accept your decision, Packmaster Huston," Weldon said. "Packmaster Davis, I will inform former Packmaster Johnson's Second, and determine if he will serve you or if you should choose another Second."
"Thank you, Grand Master," Davis inclined his head a little.
"What am I supposed to do?" Winkler whined a little.
"That Trajan guy looks capable," I pointed out.
"Fine," Winkler grumbled.
"Is this how you show your gratitude to Lissa?" Weldon didn't sound happy with Winkler.
We all trooped into Winkler's house through the side door and Kellee, hearing the sounds of someone coming inside, skidded to a halt in her socks on the expensive tile in Winkler's kitchen. Her face went dark the minute she saw Winkler and me and the screech that came from her mouth was most likely heard by dogs in bordering states. "No!" She shouted. "Nononononono!" She was stomping her feet while she made a multitude of no's into one long word. Weldon crossed his arms over his chest and waited out her tirade. There was other news he had to deliver and I had no idea how she was going to take that.
"Kellee, you will sit," Weldon ordered. Kellee called the Grand Master a name. It didn't go over well.
"Sit!" he shouted. Kellee muttered more obscenities and sat down on a barstool at the kitchen island.
"What's that bitch doing still alive?" she muttered, giving me a nasty look. That told Weldon part of what he wanted to know—Kellee had known about the attack against me. He wasn't looking charitable, now.
"Kellee, your father's Second was killed fairly tonight, as you've more than likely determined. What you don't know is that your father tried to attack Winkler's temporary Second after his own Second died. Your father is dead, too, Kellee."
A look of fury crossed Kellee's face and she rushed the Grand Master. I'm not sure what Weldon would have done but before she could reach him, I placed compulsion. "Stop!" I yelled. Kellee went to a standstill.
"Sit down," I continued as calmly as I could. Kellee returned to her seat and sat down, her eyes blank. "Weldon, what do you want to do?" I turned to the Grand Master.
Weldon settled his gaze on me. "Since Kellee conspired to kill you, what is the vampire rule concerning that?"
"We're allowed to kill if we're threatened or attacked," I said. "But I don't want to do that. She's carrying Winkler's babies. I can place compulsion, instead." I looked Weldon in the eye.