Nocturnal Revelations

by Amanda S Green

  Had he been betrayed?

  If so, by whom?

  22

  “We got him.”

  Ellen closed her eyes and blew out a long breath. Three words. Three very simple words that held a world of meaning. Unfortunately, she didn’t know what. Not yet, at any rate. There were still too many unanswered questions. But maybe that was about to change.

  She opened her eyes and glanced across the room to her granddaughter’s bed. Mac slept restlessly. She’d refused to take her pain medication and had put her foot down when it came to another tranquilizer. Nothing any of them said could change her mind. Now, seeing the pain etching lines in the young woman’s face, Ellen wished she’d been more insistent. The last thing any of them needed was Mac waking and deciding she needed to take part in questioning the lycan.

  Leaving Jackson and Elizabeth to sit with Mac, Ellen slipped into the corridor. “Tell me.”

  “There’s not much to tell yet, Gran. We managed to take him when he returned to his apartment. We had him down and sedated before he knew what was happening. He’s in the holding cell here until he regains consciousness. Then we’ll begin the interrogation.”

  “Did you find anything to help identify the shooter?”

  “No, ma’am, at least not yet. Jael and several members of Mac’s unit are searching his apartment, car and electronics as we speak. They may find something.”

  He didn’t have to say that he doubted it. She heard it in his voice. She imagined him shaking his head, frustration tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What can I tell the others?”

  “Nothing yet.” When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “Gran, we need to see what he has to say. Besides, I’d like to have some answers for Mac before saying anything. You know she’s not going to be satisfied otherwise.”

  She didn’t like it, but he was right. “I understand.”

  “I do have a favor to ask.”

  “What?”

  “I’d like you to come here and be ready to question him if he decides to be stubborn. You and Mac were right. He is a lycan. That means he should know who you are. Hopefully, that will loosen his tongue. If not, well, you’ll be able to roll him to get the information we need.”

  She thought for a moment. Then she nodded. It was something she could do. Besides, she was tired of sitting around waiting for the next shoe to drop.

  “I’ll be there shortly.” Hopefully, she’d be able to slip away without Jackson or Elizabeth asking too many questions.

  “Gran, wait until I get someone there for you.”

  She bristled at the order. “Mateo,” she drawled.

  “Gran, listen to me.” Gone was the grandson. In his place was the Marine, one she knew was dedicated to keeping their kind safe. “We don’t know if this was a strike at Mac, at our family, the Tribunal or what. All we know for sure at this point is a lycan was involved. I have my orders and they come directly from General Flynn. None of the family, or the Tribunal, are to go anywhere without an escort until this is over.”

  She frowned. One foot tapped impatiently against the tile floor. She wouldn’t admit it, but he was right. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to worry the family.

  “Tell me who you’re sending and have them text me when they’re here. I’ll meet them outside.”

  Mateo didn’t say anything for a moment and she waited. “You will meet them in the secured wing. They won’t come into Mac’s room, but they will come upstairs to escort you. I mean it Gran.”

  Her jaguar growled, liking the restriction no more than Ellen did.

  “You make sure they do nothing to upset your cousin or there will be hell to pay, Mateo,” she warned.

  He chuckled softly. “Trust me, Gran. I will make that very clear.” Another pause. “Corporal Cooke should be there in twenty minutes or so. She’ll text when she is on her way upstairs.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  She slid her cellphone back into her pocket and returned to Mac’s room. Now came the hard part. She had to find a way to explain why she was leaving the hospital without raising anyone’s suspicions, especially her granddaughter’s. Not that she was going to keep Jackson in the dark. Mateo knew better. As alpha of the local pride, not to mention as Mac’s mate, he had a right to know.

  “How do you feel, child?” She bent and lightly kissed Mac’s cheek, relieved to find she was no longer feverish.

  “Tired.” A slight smile lifted the corners of Mac’s lips. “Hurts.”

  Ellen nodded, more to encourage Jackson to press the button on the PCA pump. They watched as the pain medication took effect. Mac’s eyes grew heavy and finally closed. By the time Ellen’s phone vibrated, signaling an incoming text, Mac once again slept. She read the message and then motioned for Jackson to join her across the room.

  “What’s happened?” Concern thickened his voice and he glanced over his shoulder in Mac’s direction, as if making sure she still slept.

  “They have the man who rented the van in custody.”

  Jackson’s expression hardened and, for a moment, his features blurred as his jaguar pushed for release.

  “Where?”

  “At the warehouse.”

  He relaxed a little and she understood. That meant their secret was safe, at least for a little longer.

  “Mateo doesn’t want Mackenzie to know and I agree.” She placed a hand on his arm, silencing any objections he might have. “You know she’d want to be there for his questioning. Not only is she not strong enough yet, we need the shooter to think he hurt her badly enough she might still die.”

  He nodded once, his expression grim. “But?”

  She chuckled. He’d gotten to know her very well over the last two years. “He’s asked me to join him in case the man needs some convincing.”

  Jackson’s lips peeled back and this time there was no mistaking his anger when he growled deep in his throat. “Lycan?”

  She nodded. “You knew that.” She hadn’t hidden the fact both she and Mac recognized the man’s picture.

  “I think it’s time I had a chat with Ferguson.”

  “No.” She spoke simply but the command was clear. “You will say nothing to Ferguson, at least not yet. Mateo is right about one thing. We need to know what this lycan can tell us. If he implicates the pack leader, the Tribunal will take action and you will have your chance to avenge my granddaughter’s injuries. Until then, do nothing to tip our hand.”

  “Ellen.” Anger, frustration, even desperation filled his voice.

  “Jackson, I understand.” And she did. She’d like nothing more than to confront the pack leader about what happened. But experience taught her long ago to gather all her weapons first. “But we need to act with care. We can’t tip our hand until we know for sure who all the players all. Remember, none of us recognized the shooter. Until we know who he is, we don’t dare share our suspicions with the pack.

  He frowned but inclined his head. Even so, she knew he wasn’t convinced.

  “Think about this. If we do accuse the pack, how do you think they’ll react? It’s no secret Ferguson’s control over some of his wolves is tenuous at best. They don’t see him as a strong leader, not after everything Cassandra’s people did to him and not after it was our people who rescued him and the others.”

  Another nod.

  “But, important as all that is, we can’t do or say anything until we know for sure and until Mac’s stronger. How would she react right now if she knew we had the man who rented the van in custody?”

  He sighed and nodded, this time in full agreement. “She’d want out of here so she could interrogate him.”

  And neither of them would risk her recovery by letting her do so.

  “All right.” He looked over her shoulder toward the door. “I think someone’s here for you.”

  “Call me.” She didn’t say anything else, trusting him to understand.

  Half an hour later, she stood in the small control room, Mateo at her side.
For several long moments, she studied the single monitor mounted on the wall in front of them. It showed Sgt. Lee making one last check that their prisoner was secure. Part of her wanted to protest at seeing the prisoner stripped down to his underwear and chained hand and foot in such a way it would be impossible to shift without causing himself serious harm. But the other part, the pragmatic part, knew it was necessary, not only for their protection but to drive home the point he no longer had control over anything, himself included.

  “Has he said anything?”

  “No. ma’am.”

  “I’d like to watch as you try questioning him. It will give me a chance to figure out his weaknesses. I’d prefer not having to roll him if at all possible.”

  Even though using her power as an alpha would speed things along, it also opened them up to accusations of forcing him to say what they wanted instead of telling the truth. Not that she wouldn’t roll him if that was the only way to get to the truth.

  “Corporal Cooke will bring you some coffee. Make yourself comfortable.”

  She sat and waited, her eyes never leaving the monitor. A few minutes later, the door to the interrogation room opened. The prisoner looked up, his expression defiant. His chains rattled as he struggled against them. Even as he did, Ellen recognized it for what it was—an attempt to convince his captors they didn’t scare him. Except his body gave him away. She saw the thin sheen of sweat dotting his forehead. His nostrils flared as he drew a deep breath and his pulse pounded out an ever-increasing beat.

  Mateo appeared, Sgt. Lee just behind him. Both wore black cargo pants, black tee shirts and combat boots. They looked deadly as they stopped and studied their prisoner. Then Mateo opened his iPad and looked down at the screen.

  “Gregory Edward Bartholomew. Born 9/29. Age 39. High school graduate with mediocre grades at best. Two years in the Army before being discharged as physically unfit. You appeared before the Montana pack several years later, after having been turned, and were admitted into the pack. That didn’t last long because you refused to follow your pack leader’s orders. You left the pack under a cloud after refusing to the meet the pack leader in the Circle.” Mateo looked up and shook his head. “So, you’re a fuck-up who couldn’t do the simplest of Army PT without getting injured and you’re a coward. Let’s see what else.”

  Bartholomew threw his head back and howled. His muscles strained against his chains. Not that it did him any good. Mateo’s people knew their business. Those chains wouldn’t break. Even if they did, Bartholomew would never get out of the room alive. Not unless they let him. The moment it looked like he presented a danger to Mateo and Lee, Ellen knew Corporal Cooke would hit the panic button. Not only would it sound the alarm, sending every member of Mateo’s squad running for the room, but it would fill the room with gas. Within seconds everyone inside would be unconscious. They’d wake later with a hell of a headache, but they’d live.

  “You bounced around some after that, keeping off law enforcement’s radar. That means you aren’t a compete fool. Then you ended up here around five or six years ago. You joined the local pack, ran with one Samuel Wilcox and managed to plead your case before the pack leader when Wilcox was sentenced to death by the Conclave. I don’t know whether that means your pack leader’s a fool, you’re a fast-talker or both.” He closed his iPad and sat across the battered table from the prisoner.

  “You seem to know all about me,” Bartholomew growled. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “That doesn’t matter. But, if you must know, I’m one of your worst nightmares. Mackenzie Santos is my cousin. I don’t take kindly to people hurting my family.”

  “Never heard of the bitch.”

  Sgt. Lee barked out a laugh. “You were wrong. He is stupid.”

  “I’m not stupid!” He tried to lunge at them and growled in frustration when his chains stopped him.

  “Prove it.” Mateo leaned back and studied him for a moment. “We know you rented the van used by the bastard who shot my cousin. We also know you used a fake ID to do so. The fact we found you as quickly and easily as we did should tell you exactly what we are capable of learning. Do yourself a favor and identify the shooter now. Otherwise, we have other ways of getting the information from you.”

  Ellen leaned forward, looking for the slightest reaction from Bartholomew.

  “Gonna torture me?” The man sneered, or at least he tried to. “Thought you pures were above all that.”

  “We are.” Mateo glanced at Sgt. Lee and grinned. Then he turned his attention back to the prisoner. “Remember what I said, Greggie. I’m one of your worst nightmares. Others would be my cousin and her mate.”

  “Bitch can’t do shit to me. She’s lucky to still be alive.”

  Very good, Mateo. Ellen waited, wondering what else her grandson could get the man to admit.

  “So you do know who my cousin is,” Mateo mused. “Lie one, strike one. Care to go for two?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Sorry, you’re not my type.”

  Ellen barked out a laugh. Her grandson had obviously learned a few things about interrogation from his cousin over the last year or so.

  “I’ll ask again. Who did you rent the van for?” Gone was the humor from Mateo’s voice.

  “Didn’t rent any van and didn’t rent any van for anyone else.”

  Mateo held a hand out and accepted a file folder from Sgt. Lee. He glanced inside, apparently studying its contents. A moment later, she slapped several photos on the tabletop in front of Bartholomew, angling them so the man could see.

  “That’s strike two. This one shows you at the car rental shop, renting the van. This one.” He jabbed a finger at the second photo. “Shows you driving off in the van. Forgot about the fact the airport is filled with surveillance cameras, didn’t you? Let’s see if you’re as smart as you want us to believe. Who did you rent the van for?”

  “You’re so smart, figure it out.” Bartholomew rattled his chains again, leaving no doubt what he’d like to do if he got free.

  “I don’t need to,” Mateo said as he got to his feet. “I’m the nice one of the family, Greggie. You really should have answered my questions.”

  Recognizing her cue, Ellen left the control room. A few moments later, she knocked twice on the interrogation room’s door. Sgt. Lee opened it and stepped aside so she could enter. The moment she did, Bartholomew’s head snapped up. His eyes went wide and a very canine whine filled the air. Good. He recognized what she was, if not who she was.

  “Alpha, this wolf.” Mateo’s derision and contempt fairly dripped from his words. “Is involved in the attempted murder of Mackenzie Santos, mate to the local pride’s alpha and an alpha in her own right.”

  “And my granddaughter.”

  Bartholomew threw his head back and howled in fear and outrage. His features blurred as he began losing control. Before Mateo or Lee could react, Ellen waved them back. Let the wolf try to shift. She didn’t care if he hurt himself. In fact, she’d take a great deal of satisfaction in it. But not until she had some answers.

  “Stop!” she snapped.

  Power rolled off her, filling the room. Bartholomew stilled, as if suddenly frozen in place. His chest rose and fell in shallow pants. He reeked of fear. His wolf, so near the surface, would have forced him to his belly if he’d been free of the chains. Instead, he bowed his head, chin touching his chest. He hadn’t submitted, but he would. He’d do that and so much more by the time she was done.

  “Look at me.” Her voice brooked no disobedience.

  Slowly, as if fighting the need to obey, Bartholomew did as she said.

  “I am your worst nightmare.” She let that sink in. “You’ve already proven you had something to do with what happened to my granddaughter. Now you’re going to tell us everything you know.”

  “D-don’t kn-know anything.”

  “Oh, I think you do.” She sat in the chair Mateo had occupied earlier. “So we’re going to have a little chat. You can eith
er tell me what I want to know on your own or I can force you to. Do you doubt that?”

  He shook his head.

  “So tell me. Who shot my granddaughter and why?”

  Bartholomew couldn’t talk fast enough.

  23

  “Are you all right?”

  Jael glanced across the SUV, worried. The last forty-eight hours had been hard on all of them, In many ways, they had been harder on the woman sitting next to her. Worrying about Mac and her unborn child was bad enough. But Ellen also bore the responsibility of being the head of the Tribunal. So she also worried about what the implications of the attack on Mac might have not only on Mac and the local pride but on all shifters. Unfortunately, the last twelve hours had done nothing to ease Ellen’s concerns.

  Or hers, if she was being honest.

  “No.” Ellen shook her head. “I’m worried, scared and angrier than I’ve ever been and not necessarily in that order.”

  Jael didn’t say anything. Instead, she slid the transmission into drive and pulled away from the warehouse. She’d wanted to object when Ellen asked her to take her back to the hospital. For the first time since they met, Ellen looked every one of her years and more. Exhaustion etched deep lines from the bridge of her nose to the corners of her mouth. Her shoulders drooped and she came as close to shuffling as she walked as was possible. She needed to get some rest. But Jael also knew she needed to see Mac.

  Hell, so did she.

  “May I make a recommendation?” Jael asked.

  “Of course.” Ellen turned slightly in her seat. “You can always make recommendations.”

  “Thanks.” She paused and checked traffic before making a turn. As she did, she checked the mirrors to see if they’d picked up a tail. “You aren’t going to like it.”

  “I haven’t liked a great deal about the last few days. I doubt anything you have to say will come close to the rest of it.”

  Jael wasn’t sure about that.