“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Uncle Rick said, and Bert Di Carlo nodded in agreement. Then, to my surprise, Ed Taylor nodded, too.

“We can’t just sit here and take it,” he said, and a swell of pride blossomed in my chest. They were actually listening to me! Not just my father, but the other Alphas, too. I couldn’t resist a grin, but my smile faltered slightly when I saw it returned by both Marc and Jace. Neither noticed the other beaming at me.

“So, what’s the plan?” Di Carlo sank onto the arm of the couch with the short glass my uncle handed him.

Uncle Rick screwed the lid back on the bottle. “I suggest an ultimatum. Call one of them out for a parlay and explain that if they don’t flock on back home, we’re gonna hold a turkey shoot.” He winked at me, and I couldn’t resist a grin.

“Then wound one of them,” Taylor suggested, and I glanced at him in surprise—I hadn’t thought they’d agree with that part of my plan. “As a warning. We have to prove we’re serious, and it’s best to do that without risking injury to one of our own.”

My father nodded. “Better sooner than later.” He glanced around like he was looking for something, but I got the impression that he was seeing something other than his office. “We’ll have to do it from the steps—they won’t be able to see us under the porch roof. And we’ll need light. I’m assuming they don’t see very well in the dark, because most birds are diurnal.”

Heads around the room were nodding now, and we’d picked up several more observers in the hall, where toms had gathered to listen.

“I want two enforcers at my back.” He looked up, and both Marc and Jace stepped forward immediately, and my cousin Lucas pushed his way in from the hall.

“Good.” Our Alpha nodded. “Marc, get the tranquilizer gun from the basement, and grab both darts. If one veers too close, shoot it.”

Marc took off immediately toward the kitchen.

“Lucas, get whatever you’re most confident wielding.” Because Lucas was the more physically powerful of the pair, and would be more effective with brute strength. In fact, he was the biggest tom I’d ever personally met. More than six and a half feet tall, and three hundred pounds—I wouldn’t want to run into him in a dark alley.

Jace looked disappointed but didn’t argue. He might have been chafing under Marc’s authority, but he still held our Alpha in total respect.

Ten minutes later, we gathered in the front hall, my father facing the door with Marc a step behind on his left, my cousin mirroring him on the other side, each holding both a weapon and a candle in a jar. My uncle and I peered out the tall window to the left of the door. Taylor and Di Carlo watched from the opposite side.

In the living room, several toms had gathered to witness the action from the front window. My mother, Kaci, and Manx watched from the dining room across the hall, flanked by more enforcers, just in case.

My father took a deep breath, then opened the front door and stepped onto the porch, the gun in his right hand. Marc and Lucas followed him, then fanned out on the porch and set their candles down carefully out of the walkway. They took the steps together, the enforcers one tread behind my dad.

“Send someone to represent your Flight,” my father ordered, in a strong, clear voice. “I demand a word.”

There was a moment of near silence, then the whoosh of huge wings beating the air. An instant later, a single thunderbird swooped from our own roofline and landed ten feet in front of the porch on human legs. Its head and most of its torso were human, too, which is how I knew, to my complete surprise, that this thunderbird was a girl.

Or, more appropriately, a naked, winged woman.

“I will speak for the Flight,” she announced, in a voice that almost hurt to hear. Her dual tones were both high and screechy, as if her throat hadn’t fully Shifted. Which was a distinct possibility.

“What is your name?”

“Neve,” she announced, and offered no further title or rank.

“I am Greg Sanders, Alpha of the south-central Pride.” My father cleared his throat and made his formal pronouncement. “Hear this and consider yourselves warned. We did not kill your Flight member, nor do we bear any responsibility for his death, and we will not pay the price for a crime we did not commit. The next thunderbird who shows him or herself on this property will be shot on sight.”

He raised the gun, and even from inside the house I heard Neve gasp.

A thrill of satisfaction raced through me. She hadn’t seen that coming!

“You have to the count of three to leave, or I will make an example of you.”

I glanced at Jace in surprise. I’d wondered, when the female bird had appeared, if my father would actually shoot her. Most toms would rather die than hurt a woman of any species. Protectiveness was ingrained in them from birth.

“One.” My father aimed the pistol in a two-handed grip and flipped off the safety.

Neve made no move, so Marc raised the tranquilizer gun.

“Two.”

She still stood frozen, so Lucas slapped his crowbar into his opposite palm.

“Three.”

My dad fired the gun.

Neve tried to lift off. The bullet slammed into her left wing. She screeched and staggered backward. A powerful roar thundered from above. The next instant was a blur of wings, talons, and pale flesh against the dark night.

A tom screamed.

Lucas was gone.

Twelve