Page 62 of On A Rift's Edge
“I should leave my pathetic son in this form, since he deserves it for his stupidity.” Cesmak turned toward Lyall, then dismissed him with a wave of her hand.
Not surprisingly, Lyall’s mothers had found a way to make his disgrace even more complete. He gave up barking and hung limply, trying and failing to come up with a plan to get out of this situation.
“Fight me first in a formal duel.” Arimanius didn’t give as much as an inch to Cesmak, even though he must know how little chance he had against her. “You’re the alpha of your clan, and I’m the patriarch of the Colony. I have the right to ask for that.”
Ari would stand even less of a chance in a one-on-one fight with Cesmak. The Pouch Twins—if they hadn’t run away already—might put up enough of a fight to give the don time to get away, leaving his son and wife behind to be slaughtered.
Instead, Ari was throwing away his only chance to save himself and giving his family a chance to run instead.
Fuck. The last thing Lyall wanted was a reason not to hate Arimanius.
Remi came up to stand next to his father. Lyall expected his friend to try and smooth talk Cesmak or to negotiate a deal, but instead he stood there with his arms folded across his chest. “Rats stick together. You take on one of us, you take on all of us.”
Cesmak lunged at him, transforming as she did into her hellhound form. Remi crumpled, and the fear and fury flooding through Lyall gave him enough strength to rip himself free from Gremory.
Pain seared his neck, but Lyall ignored the torn skin as he raced toward Cesmak, whose teeth had closed around a tangle of Remi’s clothing.
But not Remi himself.
A chinchilla scurried up to Lyall and bit furiously at his neck. Lyall pulled away, then realized Remi was trying to chew the collar off him.
Cesmak whirled around, realizing that she was chomping on a pair of empty jeans, but Arimanius moved to intercept her, swinging a massive wooden club studded with glistening thorns.
Lyall was familiar with the weapon, as well as the poison the thorns could inject. Hellhounds were resistant to most toxins, but not this one. Trapped in his terrier form, he couldn’t help his mother any more than he could stop her from slaughtering everyone in the room.
Ari swung at Cesmak’s head, a good try, but the alpha of the Mt. Hood clan was faster. She dodged the blow and slammed her shoulder into Arimanius, knocking him onto the floor with an awful crunching noise. One of his legs was now bent in an unnatural angle. The club rolled along the floor, then sprouted four twig-like legs and scuttled away.
Cesmak stalked closer to the wounded mafia boss, opening her jaws for the killing bite.
Kat rushed forward and put himself between Cesmak and Arimanius. “Alpha Cesmak, my name is Katsuo Nakamura, and I’m your son’s Matchmaker-chosen mate. If you want to kill Ari, you’ll have to finish me off first.”
Panic and pride warred inside Lyall. Here was the real Kat, ready to put himself in danger to save others, even if they didn’t deserve it.
Lyall loved him so much it hurt.
He forgot all about the collar and charged at his mother, leaving Remi squeaking in protest as he was dragged along, still gnawing away at the band encircling Lyall’s neck.
Lyall got to Cesmak within seconds, but his mother swiped out a paw, sending Remi’s chinchilla form flying. The small animal landed in a heap, unmoving.
Shit. Unlike Lyall, Remi was more vulnerable in his Riftworld form, not less. He tried to dart toward his friend, but Cesmak pinned him down with the same giant paw she had used on Remi.
“Does the human speak the truth, Gre?” Cesmak spoke to her wife in their clan’s language, but Gremory shifted forms and answered her in English.
“He’s Lyall’s Matchmaker-chosen spouse, yes.” Gremory sounded intrigued by Kat, which given her habit of experimenting on things she found interesting didn’t reassure Lyall at all. He tried to squirm free, but Cesmak extended her claws around his body in warning. He shot a glance toward Remi, hoping he had been pretending to be injured. Remi wasn’t moving.
“An interesting conundrum.” Gremory came closer, her booted feet close to Remi’s crumpled form. Lyall’s head was squished sideways under the weight of Cesmak’s foreleg, so he could only see the lower half of his birth mother’s human form as she approached. She had on her version of living leathers, a robe-like garment with silver-gray scales. As she walked, her hand slipped into a pocket and pulled out a thin chain.
Ari had tech like the collar Lyall was wearing, but Gremory had her own invention, a living metal that could bind and control even other hellhounds. Would his birth mother do that to him?
“Best not to risk offending the Matchmaker by killing the pretty human Lyall has been honored with by its profound wisdom.” Gremory held out the silver links, and they coiled around her arm like a pet snake. She continued, focusing on Cesmak and not even glancing down at Lyall. “The battle is over, beloved. Tell Arimanius to release our son from his current shape.” She gestured at Giana, who stood pale but defiant behind her injured husband. “In exchange for the life of this other human, perhaps.”
“No.” Cesmak pressed down harder on Lyall, who had been trying to get his small jaws in a position to bite his mother. “They will all die, and Lyall can stay in this pathetic Earth form for a month as punishment.”
Gremory sighed. She might be the voice of reason compared to her wife, but her main focus had always been her research, not the living people around her.
Not even her son.
“I can use this to keep both Lyall and this interesting boy quiet and cooperative while you do your work.” Gremory reached out a hand to Kat, who set his jaw and held his ground.
