“No, he’s not,” she said quickly. Sincerely. “But he’s in some real trouble.”
Cain would lay down his life for Cyd and for Jinx. For any of the Dires and their mates. Kate put a hand on his shoulder, told him, “Rogue will help him, Cain. He won’t let anything happen to them. Let’s concentrate on what we can help with now.”
“I can track the trappers,” he said as Vice joined them. He knew the Dire wouldn’t say no. Those men needed to be brought to justice. And wolf justice meant an eye for an eye. “When you’re done, bring the dead to Liam.” He pointed to the young Weres. “He’s their packmaster, even though they’d never met him. But they served him. And they fought.”
Cain nodded. Called to Cyd with a long howl and waited until his twin bounded through the woods, already shifted.
“We’re tracking,” Cain told him and Cyd took off, Cain at his heels without waiting for further instructions.
Cain noted the hellhound prints as his paws passed through them—it looked like there had been at least six of them, maybe more. He smelled the sulfur in the air and something else that reeked of rotten eggs and dead things. It was easy for them to follow that scent, as it overpowered that of the trappers, but the underlay was there.
He ran side by side with his twin for miles. The trappers wouldn’t have been able to keep the running up for miles and miles, and they’d find it impossible to evade the hellhounds. They were trapped in this ring of woods and Cain’s wolf bared his teeth as he thought of the young Weres who’d been sacrificed.
Even through all their injuries, Cain could smell the fight—and the fear—they’d carried. They hadn’t gone down easy.
Finally, the trail was getting colder for the hellhounds, stronger for the trappers. It was as if they’d gotten bored of simply cornering the men or they’d gotten distracted and Cain was glad. Hadn’t wanted to come face-to- face with those creatures.
As the scent of human trapper became overpowering, the wolves passed quietly. Cyd paused, Cain at his side, and for a long moment, they waited in silence. The hellhound scent was gone suddenly and a rustle in the trees told them the trappers were near. They didn’t know how many tranquilizers they had, so it would have to be an ambush. There wasn’t time to call for help. Neither wolf had any desire to, either.
Instead, Cyd circled to the back of the large tree where the trappers were hiding and in a graceful leap, jumped up to the branch, scaring the three men who’d been perched precariously. Cain lunged for all three as they fell as if they were bowling pins, taking them down by slamming their legs out from under them. Cyd leaped onto them and without thinking, they acted like the wolves they were, avenging the Weres’ deaths. Acting in Liam’s stead. Doing what warriors would. There was no pleasure in the task—it was purely necessary justice and the trappers’ throats were torn out in rapid succession, with no excess torture. Far more care than the trappers had given the Weres, but that was the Weres’ tradition and the twins honored it.
And when the trappers lay dead, excoriated so there was no doubt they’d been killed by wolves, it was only then Cain and Cyd stepped back. They howled together, the sound echoing in the quiet night, bouncing through the woods and possibly the town beyond, and tonight, neither wolf cared.
Liam made calls all night, with Vice at his side.
“Keep going.”
The list was long and so far, the response had been good. News of Liam’s kills of Tals and Walker had continued to spread and the respect in other alphas’ voices had been evident.
Good thing they couldn’t tell how freaked he was.
Now, he traced the smooth surface of his android phone with his thumb, staring at his reflection in the back screen. He had others to contact, to make inroads with and still, he couldn’t get the idea of calling a meeting with the head of the hunters out of his mind. He dialed the phone and left a brief, firm message that he wanted a meeting with the head hunter ASAP. Now he’d wait to see how much respect he actually commanded.
He’d been doing his best to still push Max and the baby from his mind as he worked the command center of his pack from inside the Dire house. But what he would do—whether or not he’d follow the tradition demanded of him—was on the mind of all the packs who’d stood behind him thus far.
He couldn’t forgive or forget. The love he’d felt for her had morphed into a kind of hatred that still signified his feelings.
The baby was late. And even though he dreaded asking about it, he forced himself to pay Gwen a visit in the downstairs clinic she was setting up.
“I figured you’d come to see me soon,” she said as she unwrapped a bottle of medicine and wrote on the label.
“Sorry—I didn’t mean to avoid you.”
“You did. That’s okay.” She paused and then told him, “She’s not showing any signs of labor yet. And I won’t induce because I don’t know what that does to a wolf pup.”
He nodded. “Why’s she late?”
“It’s either stress having the opposite effect on her body or she was just off as to when she was impregnated,” Gwen told him. She moved forward and took his hand in hers.
“I’m sorry, Liam. I know how hard this must be. But the baby’s coming soon. You need to make a decision so we can make arrangements. A few packs have come forward with offers of foster care. They don’t want a half Were in human hands. That would cause too many problems.”
Liam agreed. What he didn’t know yet was whether or not he was keeping Max’s child. Vice’s words echoed in his mind.
Vice was too damned wise for his own good. But it still didn’t help him with his decision regarding Max. And it didn’t make him feel any more confident about keeping this pup.
Chapter 19
Gillian paced nervously as Jinx slept. Since she’d known him, albeit, not for that long, he rarely, if ever slept and woke on a dime. Seeing him out like this . . .
“He’ll be okay, Gillian. They shot him up with some powerful drugs.” Rogue was next to her, hadn’t left his brother’s side since they’d gotten back here either.
“And if they hadn’t been stopped?”
Rogue’s brow furrowed. “They would’ve taken him in. Experimented on him. Tried to, anyway. We wouldn’t have let him stay for long.”
“That’s what these people—these weretrappers—do?”
“Yes.”
She stroked a hand across Jinx’s brow and he stirred for a second, whispered her name. She put her palm into his and squeezed. “You were captured by these trappers.”
“He told you?”
“No, you did.” There was something in his eyes when he spoke of them. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t respond, and she continued, “What were those things? They smelled like . . . they were around Jinx when I escaped from the mansion and found him by the cemetery.”
“They’re hellhounds.” He paused. “You couldn’t see them?”
She shook her head no, then swallowed. Hard. “Am I supposed to?”
“No. That takes a different kind of ability.”
“You see ghosts too?”
“Spirits.”
