Prey (Blackwater Pack Book 2)

by Hannah McBride

  I tried not to show my surprise.

  “What things?” Trace flicked ash into the sculpted bushes beneath the railing.

  “Pack things,” Daniel replied, his smile all teeth and no kindness.

  Trace tossed the still lit cigarette into the mulch. “Whatever. You, stay. Skye, come with me.”

  “I’ll wait right here,” Daniel said loudly, and I was pretty sure that was more for me than Trace.

  Trace pushed open the front door, and I held my breath as I followed him so I wouldn’t inhale the stench of the cigarette remains.

  The door closing behind me felt ominous and wrong. I took a steadying breath, trying to convince my wolf—and myself—that we weren’t in danger. My hand skimmed my back pocket where the phone was.

  Trace paused inside the foyer, turning to study me with cold eyes. “I guess I should check you for weapons, right? Make sure you’re not a threat.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “You’re welcome to try. I can’t promise I won’t break your nose if you touch me.”

  “I’m an alpha,” he snapped.

  “And I’m out of patience,” I shot back. “Where the hell is Tate?”

  “Brave words for a girl all by herself in the big, bad wolf’s house,” he said darkly, stepping closer to me.

  I lifted my chin, meeting him glare for glare, refusing to back down the same way I had when we first met. “I’m not afraid of you,” I whispered softly. “I’m not a scared girl you attacked in a bathroom or a wolf with a broken leg you got the jump on in the woods. You brought Cassian to school to try and hurt me, and I killed him.”

  I sucked in a slow breath, not nearly done. “I don’t know what your dad was thinking by taking one of our own, but it reeks of desperation. We all know Tate will be back with her family before the week is over.”

  “Is that something we know, Skye?” Trace’s eyes lit with interest. “Because right now, a really pretty, helpless girl is sleeping in the room next to mine. Maybe I’ll see if she’s up for company tonight.”

  “You try that,” I said with a small smile and an encouraging nod. “I dare you. Last time I checked, you liked your girls a lot more unable to fight back, and Tate’s a fighter.”

  “How is Larkin?” Trace asked, tilting his head to the side. “Pity we never got a chance to finish what we started.”

  “I’m surprised you even care enough to ask,” I answered, refusing to take the bait no matter how much I wanted to punch him in his smug, asshole face. “Sierra vanished the same time you did. Isn’t she your mate? At least, that’s what she told everyone.”

  Trace stepped back, his smile slipping for a fraction of a second before it was wiped away and replaced with a smirk. “Ask your boyfriend. She was rolling around in his bed long before mine.”

  That jab might have worked if I didn’t already know Remy hadn’t touched Sierra, despite her multiple attempts at coercing him into a relationship.

  Besides, Trace would never admit Sierra had gone to Norwood with him after he literally tucked tail and ran. She had been a minor, and her parents definitely hadn’t given consent for her to change packs. If she was in Norwood, it was against their wishes and it opened up their pack to the very accusation they were leveling at Luke.

  I clicked my tongue against my teeth. “Now you’re just lying. Remy never touched her.”

  “If he says so.”

  “He does,” I affirmed. “And I trust my mate.”

  “Good for you.” Trace winked at me. “You enjoy that bond for as long as you can.”

  A shiver of unease rippled down my spine. The implied threat was there, and it struck more of a nerve than I cared to admit.

  “I want to see Tate,” I said softly. “Now.”

  He folded his arms over his chest and grinned. “No.”

  “Linden said—”

  “First? Your uncle doesn’t call the shots for my pack,” he snapped, cutting me off. “Second, they’re not here. They’re in a meeting. Visiting hours will resume when they come back. You can try then.”

  He leaned forward, leering. “Or you can hang out with me until they get back. I’m sure we’ll figure out a way to pass the time.”

  Ew. Never.

  I flicked my eyes up and down him for a second, like I was actually considering his disgusting suggestion.

  “Pass,” I finally said.

  “Then time to go,” he hissed, reaching for my arm.

  I stepped out of reach. “Don’t touch me.” My gaze narrowed, trying to figure out a workaround. “I guess I’m not surprised they left you here with Tate. I haven’t seen you at many sessions. Guess even Daddy knows you’re only good for a babysitter.”

  He bared his teeth at me.

  Bingo. I hit a nerve.

  “Or maybe she’s my reward,” he replied smugly. “And you’re kinda killing the vibe.”

  “Far be it that I would put a kink in your rapist fantasies.” I rolled my eyes. “But since you were sitting out on the porch with your cancer stick, I’m guessing you weren’t even allowed to sit inside to keep an eye on Tate. Daddy probably told you absolutely no touching.”

  His flinch was almost imperceptible, but it was there.

  I smirked. “Yeah, okay. I’ll come back and speak to someone who’s actually in charge.”

  “I am in charge here, bitch,” he spat.

  I raised my brows. “Clearly. I’ll let you get back to … sitting on the front porch and counting birds? Watching grass grow? What else did you have planned today?”

  He snarled, lashing out and grabbing my wrist.

  I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out as he ground the delicate bones together. One yelp from me, and Remy would send the calvary.

  Hell, he would be leading the charge.

  “You want to see her? Fine.” Trace dragged me towards the staircase.

  I winced as he pulled me up the stairs and around a corner. His fist cracked twice against a closed door.

  “Fuck off!” Tate yelled from the other side.

  I hid my smile. That was my girl, still fighting.

  Trace let me go with a growl. He started fishing for a key in his front pocket, pulling the scrap of metal out with a grimace as the front door opened.

  “Skye? Person whose name I don’t know?” Daniel called from the doorway. “Where are you guys at?”

  “What the fuck?” Trace exploded, a vein in his forehead popping out as he turned.

  “Daniel isn’t very patient,” I admitted with a shrug, hiding a smile. “He said he needed to speak to your dad. You probably should’ve mentioned he wasn’t here when we were outside.”

  Trace whirled, his face inches from mine. “Stay right fucking here while I deal with your annoying friend. You even attempt to let Tate out, and I’ll break her legs and yours.”

  I held up my hands innocently. “Whatever you say.”

  “Hellloooo?” Daniel called, somewhere deeper in the house, clearly taking it upon himself to explore the downstairs.

  Something crashed and broke below us.

  “Shit,” Daniel’s voice carried up the stairs with a sigh, “was that expensive? It kinda looked expensive.”

  With another curse, Trace stormed down the stairs.

  I leaned against the door as soon as he was out of sight. “Tate? You okay?”

  “Skye?” I heard her move to the door. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Checking on you,” I huffed, my eyes sweeping the empty hallway.

  “Where’s Trace?”

  “Dealing with Daniel,” I said with a laugh.

  “Why is Daniel here?”

  “It’s a long story,” I said. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m … I’m fine,” she said softly. “They haven’t done anything to me. Any word on my Dad? How’s Dante?”

  “Gabe’s working on getting your dad released. Dante is … He’s been better.” I winced. That was the understatement of the year.

&n
bsp; “Tell them both I love them, and not to worry.” Tate sniffled.

  I lay my palm flat against the door. “I will. Tate, are you—”

  I froze as a door slammed down the hallway. I whirled around, heart pounding. I had assumed it was just Tate and Trace in here.

  “Skye?” Tate’s voice was muffled through the door.

  “I think someone’s up here,” I whispered, stepping back from the door and looking around.

  It wasn’t Trace or Daniel; I could hear them arguing downstairs.

  Another door slammed, followed by an angry voice.

  I slowly walked down the hall, keeping my back to a wall as I walked.

  “This … ridiculous!” A high-pitched voice snapped. A woman’s voice.

  “Calm down,” a deeper, masculine voice said.

  There was a door cracked open at the end of the hall. I slid forward, praying there weren’t any loose floorboards that would groan and give me away.

  Something else crashed downstairs, followed by Trace yelling.

  I closed the distance to the open door, nudging it open slightly wider with my toe.

  It was a bedroom, yellow sunlight drenching the white walls and cream carpet.

  Grant and Karen stood near an open suitcase, glaring at each other.

  “We need the money!” Grant snapped.

  “And who’s fault is that?” Karen spat. The meek little woman from the meeting earlier was now a furious she-wolf, staring down her cowering husband.

  “Mine,” Grant mumbled.

  I reached behind me, sliding the phone out of my pocket. It was still connected to Remy. I held it up, hoping he could hear what I was hearing.

  “We wouldn’t even be here if you had been able to stay away from the fucking casino,” Karen snarled. “Now we’re stuck in the middle of a shifter pissing match. You better pray Damien holds up his end of the deal and gets us out of here before Luke Davis is released.”

  Grant glowered under her stare. “You were right next to me, placing bets, too, Karen.” He sniffed. “And I didn’t see you turning down the money.”

  “Whatever,” Karen snapped. “The sooner this is over, the sooner we can cash that check.”

  “And the girl?” Grant asked.

  Karen sneered at him. “Don’t be a fool, Grant. We’re not taking her with us.”

  Grant looked at the ground. “She’s our daughter.”

  “She’s a mistake we never meant to have.” Karen huffed. “And she’s more trouble than she was ever worth.”

  I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my gasp.

  “As soon as the check clears, we’re out of here,” Karen told him. She sighed a second later, moving towards her husband and touching his cheek. “We’ll go somewhere sunny. You always wanted to visit Hawaii. We’ll be able to afford that trip now.”

  Grant watched her walk away. “And if the Council gives us custody?”

  Karen paused. “She’s pretty, young, and likely fertile. I’m sure we can find someone willing to take her off our hands. Hell, Damien’s kid was practically salivating when we brought her in, and they definitely have money. I bet my ass they’d pay for her.”

  My free hand curled into a fist. This woman was a monster, and Tate was better off without her. I glanced down at the phone and tucked it into my pocket before scurrying back down the hall to Tate’s door.

  “Still there?” I whispered.

  “Yeah,” she replied. “Where did you go?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  It did matter. Hopefully the Council would listen to me, or listen to Remy, when we told them the truth about Tate’s parents.

  Footsteps on the stairs were my warning Trace was coming back.

  “Just hang in there, okay?” I said, touching the door once more.

  “You’re leaving,” Trace told me when he saw me. His hand lashed out to grab me, but I ducked away.

  “I can walk downstairs by myself.” I stepped around him and hurried down the stairs. I didn’t wait for him as I pulled open the front door.

  Trace slapped a hand on the wood, closing it as soon as I tugged it open an inch.

  He leaned in, not quite touching, but crowding me all the same. I forced myself still, forced my wolf to be silent.

  “I’ll see you later, Skye.” His breath tickled my ear.

  I didn’t speak, didn’t look at him. A second later, he released his weight from the door and I could open it. I stepped through, and hurried down the stairs where Daniel waited.

  “That guy has trust issues,” Daniel remarked, falling into step beside me. “Is it so bad that a total stranger is walking around your downstairs, unaccompanied?”

  I choked on a laugh. “Why did you do that?”

  He shrugged. “You’d been gone for five minutes.”

  “And you got worried about me?”

  Daniel smirked. “I got worried about me, and what Remy would do if I returned you in anything less than pristine condition. Did you talk to Tate?”

  I grinned, lengthening my strides as I reached for my phone, turning the volume back up so I could hear him. “Even better.”

  “Better?”

  I put the phone to my ear. “Tell me you heard that.”

  Remy’s warm chuckle slid into my ear, sending a spiral of heat unfurling in my stomach.

  “Babe, we heard everything. We recorded it. Dad’s on his way to the Council right now with the recording.”

  Relief hit me, so sweet and potent that I stumbled as I walked, grabbing onto Daniel’s arm for support.

  “Get your ass back here,” Remy ordered.

  I glanced at Daniel beside me before I dropped my voice, unable to resist teasing him. “Just my ass?”

  Remy chuckled. “I mean, it’s my favorite part.”

  I pressed my lips together and ducked my head so Daniel wouldn’t see my cheeks turning bright pink.

  “But I’m pretty attached to all of you,” he added, the heat in his voice making me shiver. “I’ll make you a list when you get back.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  43

  By the time Daniel and I made it back to my cabin, Gabe had convinced the Council to free Luke. Damien’s meeting was disrupted, and he was ordered to return Tate to her father.

  Luke didn’t care about waiting for them to comply, so he headed for the Norwood cabin to collect his daughter himself.

  I stepped over the threshold of the cabin, waving goodbye to Daniel, and was immediately swept into strong arms that were not my mate’s.

  “Thank you,” Dante whispered, hugging me hard enough to crack a rib or four.

  “You’re welcome,” I replied, squeezing him back and making eye contact with Remy over his massive shoulder.

  He gave me a soft, private smile I felt down to my toes.

  Dante let me go and I stepped back, a little embarrassed. Clearing my throat, I looked around the room.

  “Where’s Griffin and Nero?”

  “Griffin went with Dad,” Remy said, moving forward and pulling me to his side. “Nero went to check on Allie. They’ll meet us for dinner later tonight.”

  “Us?” I blinked up at him.

  “We’re having dinner in the lodge,” he replied, his arm tight around my shoulder.

  Dante grinned at me. “Someone just had a birthday. We wanted to celebrate. Now we have a few reasons.”

  “Like a birthday party?” The words came out a lot more breathless than I had intended, but I had never had a birthday party. It wasn’t like I had friends in Long Mesa to invite, or even a reason to celebrate before.

  Remy’s lips found the top of my head. “Hell yeah.”

  Dante looked at the front door, and I smiled.

  “Why don’t we wait outside for them?” I suggested.

  He was outside and on the porch before I finished my question.

  Remy chuckled warmly, the vibrations of his chest settling deep into my bones. I started to follow Dante, but Remy pulled me b
ack, swinging me around so we were face to face.

  “You’re really okay?” he asked quietly, his dark eyes looking for any signs of trauma or injury.

  I touched his face. “I’m really okay. Trace was … Trace. He tried to get a rise out of me, and I didn’t take the bait.”

  “I heard.” His fingertips dusted across the underside of my jaw, slipped down the slope of my throat. He hooked a couple fingers in the top of my tank top, fisting the material in his hand and pulling me closer. The back of his knuckles caresses the rising swell of my breasts.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered, very aware and very not caring that Dante was on the other side of an open door.

  Remy’s grin wrecked me. My knees almost buckled at the promise and lust in his eyes.

  “They’ll be back soon,” he said softly, bending to kiss the side of my neck chastely.

  “Remy.”

  His mouth opened, and he nipped at the claiming mark, his teeth scraping against the freshly healing skin.

  The shudder that tore through my body, starting in the roots of my scalp and curling my toes, made me sway. I blindly grabbed onto his forearm for balance.

  “We need to get ready for the party,” he explained softly, like he was telling me about the weather. The wet heat of his tongue licked over my collarbone as one hand came around my back, grabbing my ass and squeezing.

  My eyes slid shut, my head dropping back as I swallowed a moan.

  “But tonight,” he continued, his fingers dragging across the exposed swell of cleavage from my tank top, “you’re mine.”

  “Lock the door, skip the party,” I panted, desperate for those talented fingers to dip lower inside my shirt.

  He lifted his head, a teasing frown on his face as he lightly tsked under his breath. “We can’t do that.”

  “We can totally do that,” I countered, a raw growl in my throat. Arousal hummed through me, heating my blood. “It’s my birthday party. Consider yourself the only one invited.”

  “Your friends want to celebrate with you,” he reminded me, a single digit tracing the shape of my mouth.

  “I don’t need friends,” I said breathlessly, “I have you.” I bit his finger, adding a little more force than just being playful. Enough that his pupils dilated and his eyes snapped to the stairs.