Pack Poisoned, page 13
part #2 of Thrown to the Wolves Series
Sabrina isn’t getting anywhere near this idiot, and I couldn’t care less if Reid’s employee winds up dead in the crossfire. I’d love to know who put this shoddy job together and actually thought it would work, but it might make Sabrina sad if she has to watch her friend die. In case I need to block her view or act as a buffer if a bullet ricochets, I take a small step to position myself in front of her again now that she’s inched to the side to watch it all play out. She grabs my wrist and shoots me a pointed look, attempting to convey a plan.
Fighting back a snort of amusement, I turn my back to the pathetic excuse of a threat to give her my full attention. I recognize that look of determination, and I love the hell out of her for it, this entire ordeal far more enjoyable than I could have ever anticipated. It doesn’t take a genius to read her thoughts, plain as day on her face as my Sabrina slips through in her honorable quest to save her friend, and I’d give her credit for a solid plan if it was necessary. She’s a threat of the best variety since no one knows what she’s capable of. If we humor a trade, the second this bastard sets a hand on her, she could drain him dry. I see it all playing out in her gorgeous, furious gaze, and fight the urge to kiss her breathless.
Leaning in close, I murmur against her ear, “He isn’t like us, love; human, through and through. Your talents would be wasted on him.”
More like her skills are useless on someone like him. She’d be left with only her instincts to guide her in defending herself since there isn’t a wolf in his chest to manipulate, and that I won’t trust her with until I see her in action and am convinced that she can properly defend herself. Even then, I doubt I’d be able to actually let her go through with it, my wolf and I in complete agreement that no one else should touch our mate. My sweet Sabrina is many things, but despite the fact she saved my sister and the way she has me wrapped around her finger, I know something that she doesn’t.
When she looked into my soul to set me free, I caught a glimpse into hers. The fire inside of her that burns so brightly it draws us all into her snare is one shift of the wind away from consuming her entirely. While her wolf puts on a good front of appearing cold and indifferent to throw us off, she needs us to keep her in check; the shadows to her flames. One cannot exist without the other, and I take pride in my position, thrilled to showcase all that she’s capable of by being the darkest, most twisted bastard imaginable.
I can’t exist without her anymore, and I intend to repay the honor by showing the world that the most dangerous monsters are the ones that have something worth protecting.
“I see that look in your eye, Slade. We can’t just let him die,” Reid hisses, knowing the rest of us can hear him, but the humans are too far away to pick up what we’re saying.
I can’t help the grin that splits my face as Sabrina’s mouth twists in annoyance at his voice, like she was actively pretending he didn’t exist until she got her mental walls firmly in place to deal with him. “To be fair, then we’d only have to split the bonus between two people,” she points out, embracing her other half’s callousness. “We’re practically done, and I’m sure we could pull anything necessary off of his hard drive. A few round the clock days and we could pull it off.”
So much for saving Jonathan. The corner of my lips twitches as I reach out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. No matter how maturely she tries to handle things, hurt inspires pettiness. Not that I think she’d really let the guy die in a bid to stick it to Reid.
Reid opens his mouth to argue, but is wise enough to shut the fuck up when we hear a car door slam and footsteps coming. The heavy footfalls are clearly male, striding directly our way with a sense of purpose, and I pivot to face the new arrival. It may very well be an employee that forgot something in his office or he’s here to pick someone up, but regardless, it’s going to change the tone of this standoff instantly if there’s a witness involved.
He rounds the corner to our section of the parking garage, the same denim jacket as the thug in front of us, and his weapon already drawn. “Enough of this,” he growls, raising his gun to aim between my eyes. “The girl. Now.”
With a smirk, I slowly raise my hands, drawing both of their attention to me for a split second. “Counter offer.”
Boden and Cinjin work in tandem as they've done countless times, each picking a target without the need to converse. Blood sprays across Jonathan’s face as the man holding him at gunpoint takes a bullet to the brain at the same moment as his friend, both bodies landing with a heavy thud. My ears are ringing from the gunshots still echoing around the parking garage, and with my heightened senses, it hurts like a son of a bitch, yet I can’t help but smile. One problem after another has been piling on until I’m practically drowning lately, like I’m holding onto my family and our legacy with a fraying rope. But this? This is familiar; comforting, in a fucked-up sort of way. It’s therapeutic having at least one problem that we can simply shoot in the face to solve as opposed to endless mind games and deceit.
Checking on Sabrina with a glance over my shoulder, my smile falls as I see her attention rapt on something to our left. Following her gaze, my stomach flips as I see a security guard at the end of the aisle. Byte-Ware doesn’t mess with rent-a-cops either; not with the sort of information they have access to. So, when the man draws his gun, using his other hand to radio into the building, I close my eyes with a sense of impending dread, assessing everything in a new light. And when I open them, I search the ceiling, finding one of the security cameras turned from its normal position to aim directly at us, catching the entire thing.
It was a fucking set up, but why? We could clearly make a case for self-defense, and Jonathan’s a witness to corroborate our claims. So what was the point?
By the time the police arrive, I still haven’t figured out the answer. But as the sun dips below the horizon and my skin begins to itch, strung too tightly for comfort as I watch someone put handcuffs on my mate and guide her into the back of a squad car while I’m shoved in another, it takes everything in me not to shift and tear the man’s fucking throat out for touching her, for separating her from us.
And it finally dawns on me; that’s all this is. While there’s no evil council overseeing our kind to smite us if we reveal ourselves to humans, if we were to shift in the middle of a police station, we’d be riddled with bullets before we even made it across the lobby. Someone’s fucking with our heads, trying to goad us into destroying ourselves.
And it’s working.
***
“So I believe we’re done here, Officer Williamson.” Our lawyer reaches beside her chair to pick her briefcase up off of the floor, rising to her feet and encouraging me to do the same.
Even though she’s spent the entire day running herself ragged, Terra is immaculately put together, never letting any of the vultures see so much as a crack in her armor. Clad in a deep purple skirt and light gray dress shirt, it’s yet another power move. It leaves all of her wicked scars on display, the dramatic contrast against her dark skin instantly drawing the eye. Arms, collar bone, neck; Terra put up one hell of a fight before I found her and put a bullet through my father’s skull.
Our fathers had let their power go to their head for ages, but when they started attacking humans in the middle of the fucking city several nights in a row, it was the last straw. They put all of the surrounding packs at risk of exposure, and they’d already been gunning to eliminate my family for years before that. Nothing brings people together better than a common enemy.
While none of us walked away from that mess unscathed, Terra bears the physical reminder daily. Rather than let it destroy her though, she embraced it, uses it to her advantage. She leaves her scars on display to show the world that she’s already been through worse than anything they can throw at her, so they’re going to have to try a hell of a lot harder to intimidate her.
There was no better person to study in order to perfect my own mask and learn how to navigate the shark infested waters we were all drowning in, and seeing as she already knew what we were, no better person to act as our pack’s lawyer.
“If we have any more questions, Mr. Hawthorne,” the middle-aged officer starts, and I bite my tongue until I taste blood, at my breaking point.
Three fucking hours we’ve been stuck here, and the only thing keeping me from slamming my fist into his face is the fact that I’m on the cusp of freedom. We can walk away from this now if we cooperate, but assaulting an officer in the middle of the police station is going to be harder to brush under the rug and only result in me being separated from Sabrina longer. Thankfully, Terra senses how close I am to snapping and saves me from answering.
“You’ll direct them to me.” Leaving no room for debate, she leaves her card on the man’s desk. “I believe you’ve harassed my clients enough for one evening, especially after such a traumatic ordeal.”
Following her lead, we head out the door and approach the one directly across the hall. She walks in without knocking, giving a similar no-nonsense quip and gesturing for Reid to follow us out. Extending my senses, I attempt to pinpoint which room Sabrina’s being held in, but the chaotic noise and scent of sweat and gunpowder overshadows everything else. After gathering Cinjin, we enter the next interrogation room, but the second we step into it, I freeze. A warning growl escapes before I can bite it back, and Terra bristles beside me. Her fear snaps me out of it, never wanting to be a reminder of what she went through, but I pin my narrowed gaze on the three officers in the room.
Boden’s wrists are cuffed, bolted to the ring in the center of the metal table, along with a chain between his shackled ankles. The officers surrounding him aren’t even feigning civility, their weapons trained on him as if begging him to make one wrong twitch.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Terra demands, striding directly into the fray.
Two of the men exchange a loaded glance before one reluctantly speaks. “He didn’t want to wait until the sergeant gave permission for him to leave.”
The third hasn’t taken his eyes off Bo, his hand trembling slightly. “There’s something wrong with him. On some sort of drugs, I think.”
None of us need to probe for details. Bo’s golden eyes are hard enough to cut glass, his muscles coiled, even if he’s sitting perfectly still. They may have restrained him, but they gave him a better opportunity to walk away from this if he desired, shackling him to a shield. A hard jerk and that table could block him from two of the officers while he breaks the handcuffs, disarms his target, and uses it to take out all three of them. Then it’d simply be a matter of stealing a key from a corpse. I see it all playing out in his frigid glare as he studies them, but thankfully, either we arrived in the nick of time, or he was clinging to the vestiges of his dissipating patience for a little longer.
“Of course there’s something wrong with him,” Terra snaps. “Someone attempted to kidnap his wife, and now he’s been kept separated from her for hours on end while being treated like a criminal instead of a hero for saving Mr. Davis. Some distress and agitation are expected, and a bit of compassion is warranted given the circumstances.”
Despite their reluctance, Terra’s a one woman wrecking crew and makes quick work of threatening them with numerous lawsuits and name dropping connections until they’re all but begging her to accept their apologies and not put anything on the record. Storming out of the room, she moves down the hall and shoves the door to Sabrina’s holding room open.
Only to find it completely empty.
“Where. The hell. Is she?” The words drip with cold fury as I spin on my heel.
Grabbing the nearest man following behind us, I clutch the front of his shirt and slam his back into the wall. Ignoring Terra’s hissed warning, Cinjin and Bo restrain the other two before they can draw their weapons.
Red faced, he glares daggers at me, but grits out, “How the fuck would I know? I was assigned to watch your brother.”
“Slade,” Terra murmurs, knowing full well I’ll be able to hear her. “I’ll handle things here. It’ll be faster if you take off and see if you can pick up her trail. I’ll ask around and call if I learn anything useful.”
For a tense moment, I remain frozen. The man in my grasp turns purple and claws at my wrist, feet searching for purchase and finding none as he hovers half a foot off of the ground. One wrong breath and I’ll lose my tenuous hold on my restraint, shift right here and tear out not only his throat, but those of everyone that played a part in my mate’s disappearance, no matter how small. Yet that will only delay us further, and gods know how much of a head start whoever took her already has. Terra checked in on her upon her arrival, but it’s been hours since then.
Anything could have happened to her while I didn’t even know she was missing.
Dropping him in a heap, I march out of the hallway towards the door of the precinct without another word. I don’t bother reclaiming the weapons they stripped us of; there’s no point. I’m barely holding it together as it is, and it’ll be faster to hunt her down if I shift. No way Boden or I can pass as regular wolves, but if we stick to the shadows, we should be able to make some solid headway before people start to panic and call animal control.
Shoving the door open hard enough it fractures the glass, I brace a hand on the cement banister and swing myself off the side of the steps, landing in a crouch on the sidewalk. Flaring my nostrils, I come to an abrupt stop, my head whipping to a point across the street at the end of the block.
Leaning on the hood of a navy sedan, Sabrina’s caught up talking to a police officer on the sidewalk, and relief floods me hard enough that I nearly sink to my knees. They’re too far away for me to hear what they’re discussing, but whatever he says makes her laugh hard enough that she snorts, a hand flying up to cover her mouth in embarrassment. I swear, I aged ten years in the span of five minutes, but I’ll take the rush of possessive jealousy over terrified rage any day.
Taking a second to convince myself that she’s actually here, happy and whole, I jog over, the two of them looking up as they hear me coming. Getting my first good look at the guy, my relief goes up in smoke as I stare right into the smug face of Nathan Rivers.
He scrubs a hand over his neatly trimmed, ebony beard, dark brown eyes alight with humor and satisfaction at the sight of me and my brothers coming out of his station while he keeps our mate otherwise occupied. “You’re welcome, Hawthorne.”
Ignoring him, I wrap my arms around Sabrina, plucking her off of the bastard’s car and crushing her against me, heart thundering in my chest. Closing my eyes, I soak up the comfort of her proximity, taking slow breaths and counting to ten, then again. I’d all but handed the reins over to my other half and to snatch them back at the last second has him chomping at the bit, my skin straining like wet paper holding back an avalanche of sand. The sharp tang of blood coats my tongue as I press the tip against one of my teeth, urging them to stop lengthening, sharpening, and return to normal.
Yet no matter how I try to curb the impulse, bending my mate over this wolf’s car and fucking her until she’s screaming my name sounds like a perfectly reasonable solution to all of our current problems so they’ll be reminded that she’s mine.
“Everything okay now?” she asks quietly, peering first at me, then over my shoulder at my brothers.
While there’s an undercurrent of dominance to her tone, it’s clear Sabrina has the forefront right now, and it helps convince me better than anything that she’s actually okay. Safe. Because if she were in any form of danger, I don’t doubt that her other half would have taken over whether she liked it or not to ensure she survived until we could get to her.
She’s impressive, possibly stronger than any alpha I’ve ever met, but that only helps her if she’s fighting wolves that she can actually lay her hands on to siphon from. She wasn’t trained to fight like we were, hasn’t shifted yet, and no matter her abilities, they don’t mean shit if she can’t touch them or is restrained. Shot. Tranquilized. Then she’d be at anyone’s lack of mercy, where they could do anything to her that they-
Stop visualizing it. That’s not going to happen, I won’t let it. I’ll do better, be better for her. She won’t regret taking our name; I’ll turn our legacy into something that she can be proud of.
“No,” I admit honestly, resting my forehead against hers. “But it will be. I’ll make sure of it. I promise.”
She doesn’t protest as I keep her captured against me, humming low in her throat until she’s practically purring, and I lean into the vibrations like a needy fucking puppy. But it helps the blistering feeling subside from my skin, ensuring I don’t shift in the middle of Main Street. I’m supposed to take care of her, swore it. Yet she’s ripped my promises right out from under me, forcing me to confront how ill-equipped I actually am for the position of her guardian when I keep seeking her out for comfort.
Everything’s falling apart, and the tighter I try to hold on, the faster it all slips through my fingers.
I’m not sure how much longer any of us have at this rate before I have to accept that we’re all in over our heads, that the security we promised our mate was an illusion built on desperate hopes and dreams. Much more pressure, and our entire empire will collapse beneath our feet, and I can only pray we’ll be crushed in the rubble rather than be left to face the desolate aftermath.
“What happened?” Bo demands, finally having enough and shoulder checking me, stealing our mate.
He sits on Nathan’s car without a care, pulling Sabrina onto his lap and nuzzling her hair, the side of her neck. Bo smothers her in his scent while inhaling hers like an addict, not even protesting as Cin stands between their legs, leaning down to capture her face and kiss her breathless. Reid keeps his distance with a tortured expression that he gradually conceals bit by bit, but I refuse to feel bad for him. Call me a selfish bastard, but I want my entire family happy, and his actions are sabotaging that for two important members, so he can suffer. Maybe it’ll help knock some sense through his thick skull.
