Nocturnal Revelations

by Amanda S Green

  “Tell me.” She climbed to her feet and carefully stretched.

  “Your grandmother’s going to lay most of it out when she questions Ferguson, but the short version is still sketchy. We found evidence of a number of phone calls and emails between the two. Reed is, as we know, smart enough not to put anything in writing to directly implicate himself. He talks about taking steps to make sure their kind are protected. Making sure the Tribunal is taken care of. That sort of thing.”

  Mac cursed under her breath. That was exactly the sort of thing she’d seen from him before. Nothing overt but, if you read between the lines, the implications were obvious. Damn it, would they finally be able to deal with this snake as well?

  “Shit.” She frowned and turned her attention back to Jael. “Did you say my grandmother was going to question Ferguson?”

  Jael nodded, her expression revealing she no more liked the idea than Mac did.

  “Where?”

  Surely, they hadn’t brought the lycan leader to the safehouse.

  “He’s being held with Wysocki.”

  Close but far enough away to keep them from knowing where Mac’s family was. Good.

  “Any word on Caudell?”

  Jael shook her head, her expression serious. “He died about an hour after Pat and her team found him. Preliminary reports detail what we suspected as well as noting several wounds that appear to have been made by a hypodermic needle. The ME suspects he was given some kind of drug cocktail but won’t know what until the tox reports come back.”

  “Does Wysocki know?”

  “She does.” Jael shook her head again, frowning. “That is one cold bitch. She didn’t react to the news. Not a gasp, not a tear, nothing. Finally, she told Pat she couldn’t mourn him. He’d been nothing but trouble. I doubt I have to tell you she’s now trying to put the blame on him for what happened is and yelling for her lawyer.”

  “Let her yell.” She reached for her phone and sent Pat a quick text, telling her they needed to keep Wysocki under wraps a little bit longer. Then she looked up. “I want to watch the interrogation.”

  “Your grandmother figured you would and override Jackson’s objections.”

  Mac did a mental victory dance. She’d been worried her grandmother would agree with Jackson, especially after seeing how much the shift back to human took out of her. Not about to give Ellen time to change her mind, she started toward the door.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Not quite yet. I’m under orders to make sure you eat before we leave. You are also to put on your Kevlar vest and weapon up. To paraphrase your grandmother, you aren’t allowed to shift again so soon, and she doesn’t want you to be easy prey.”

  Knowing better than to argue, Mac nodded. As she did, she hoped someone thought to bring her a new vest. The one she’d been wearing when Caudell shot her would have been taking into evidence. Once the case was closed, she’d get it back. If it hadn’t been too badly damaged, she’d wear it again. Obviously, it was her lucky vest. It kept her alive—well, it and the fact she was a shapeshifter. Never again would she bitch about having to wear her vest or other protective gear.

  An hour later, Mac watched the monitors as Ferguson was led into a small room barren of all furnishings except a chair bolted to the concrete floor. Directly over the chair was a single light. It shone down on the chair like a spotlight. Sgt. Lee and Cpl. Kapinsky, both members of Mac’s “DHS” special unit, forced the lycan onto the chair. They worked in silent unison to secure him in place. By the time they finished, the lycan could barely move. His feet were chained to the back legs of the chair. His arms wrenched behind the chair and cuffed. A chain ran from the cuffs to a bolt in the floor under the chair. Thick leather straps at chest, waits and across his upper thighs all but welded him to the chair. To insure he couldn’t shift, Sgt. Lee injected him with an inhibitor, one reverse engineered from the drug Cassandra’s people used to force someone to shift and then prevented them from shifting back.

  Then, as silently as they’d worked, the Lee and Kapinsky left the room. The moment they did, Ferguson began to struggle against his bonds. When he realized he couldn’t break free, he threw his head back and howled. His wolf was close to the surface but unable to take control. Mac nodded, a slight smile lifting the corners of her mouth, when she saw the moment Ferguson realized he couldn’t shift. He stilled, his eyes wide, his breathing labored. Once again, he threw his head back and howled, this time in fear. He was beaten and he knew it.

  But would it be enough to make him talk?

  “Showtime,” Jael said softly as the door to the interrogation room opened once more.

  Mac watched as her grandmother entered the room. Jackson followed. As he closed the door, Ellen moved to stand three feet from Ferguson’s chair. For a long moment, she studied, saying nothing. Then she glanced over her shoulder to Jackson and nodded. That was it. Just a nod. But the moment Jackson moved to stand behind the man, Ferguson began fighting his bonds once again, desperate to be free.

  “Stop.”

  Ellen didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. Power Mac felt through the audio feed filled the room. Instantly, Ferguson quit struggling. Sweat pricked out on her forehead. He whimpered like a scared puppy. Eyes wide, he waited, not that he could do much else.

  “Connor Ferguson, you know who I am, just as you know who my companion is,” Ellen began. “So, I won’t waste time going through the formalities. Understand that I am here in my capacity as the head of the Tribunal. Jackson is here as the local pride’s alpha. Do you understand?”

  The man nodded, refusing to meet her eyes.

  “Answer me,” Ellen ordered.

  “I understand.”

  “See, that wasn’t difficult.”

  Mac shivered at her grandmother’s tone. She recognized it and wondered if Ferguson had any idea how deep his trouble ran. When Ellen sounded oh-so-reasonable, almost apologetic, it meant she was ready to move in for the kill.

  “The Tribunal met an hour ago and they have seen and heard all evidence gathered pertaining to the attempted assassination of my granddaughter, the female alpha of the local pride and a member of the Tribunal in her own right. You have one chance to answer each of my questions fully and honestly. The Tribunal has instructed me to use whatever means necessary to find out everything you know. This is your one and only chance to cooperate.”

  It didn’t surprise Mac when the lycan tried to mitigate his role in everything that happened. Not that it lasted for long. Before Ellen could roll him, Jackson simply rested his hands on Ferguson’s shoulders. Mac watched as her husband’s fingers dug in. Jackson’s knuckles turned white and a quick flash of pain crossed his expression. But it was nothing compared to the surprise and then pain that registered on Ferguson’s face. Understanding dawned when Mac saw blood seeping through the material of Ferguson’s shirt where Jackson’s fingers rested. Jackson had called on his jaguar and the jungle cat’s claws tore through her husband’s fingers and into the lycan’s skin.

  It didn’t take long for it all to come pouring out. As Mac suspected, Ferguson was a coward at heart when faced with a bigger, badder predator and her grandmother was just that. Her questions came hard and fast, barely giving him time to think, much less answer. Part of Mac admired Ellen’s tactics as she switched between asking about Caudell and the plan to kill Mac to the lycans’ involvement in the local drug trade and then to Ferguson’s association with Derek Reed. Half an hour later, Ellen left the room, Jackson on her heels.

  Mac sat back and blew out a long breath. As she did, Jael signaled Sgt. Lee to return Ferguson to his cell.

  “Well?” Jael asked as she turned to face Mac.

  “This isn’t over, not by a long shot.”

  Damn it.

  The door swung open and her grandmother entered, her cellphone to her ear. She spoke quickly and Mac guessed she was briefing General Flynn. Waiting for her to finish her call, Mac stood and motioned for her to take her seat. The
n she moved to where Jackson stood. Taking his hands in hers, she lifted them and studied his fingers, relieved to see the already healing wounds in the fingertips she expected.

  “We need to move fast, before Branson and the others make their move,” Ellen said as she ended the call. “Flynn’s making sure the other members of the Tribunal are protected. They’ll send word to the prides and pards around the country to stand ready for an attack.”

  “And Reed?” Mac asked.

  “A strike team is already on the move to take him into custody.”

  Mac nodded, even though she had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that they were already too late and Reed was in the wind.

  “Your orders?” Mac stood so her back pressed against Jackson’s chest. She pulled his arms around her waist and grasped his wrists. She needed the contact just then. It reminded her the world hadn’t gone completely insane—yet.

  “An excellent question.” Ellen rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger. “Your thoughts?”

  “Other than beating that bastard to a pulp?”

  It didn’t surprise her when Cait padded to the forefront of her brain and agreed.

  “Yes. Perhaps something a bit more constructive.” Ellen smiled, understanding reflected in her eyes.

  “We need to keep the pride safe and we have to make sure the lycans don’t out us to the public.”

  “What do you think their probable targets would be?” Jackson asked.

  “The pride meeting—which has to be cancelled now. We can’t risk our people.” When Jackson nodded, she relaxed some. “The Irish Rose.” Her blood ran cold at the thought. The lycans knew the Irish pub was a favorite of the pride’s. Beyond that, John and Moira looked to the pride and were loyal to it. “Any of our homes.”

  In fact, there were simply too many possibilities.

  “I’ll warn John and Moira,” Jael said as she pulled out her cellphone.

  As she did, Mac remembered Jael’s kids were there. Worried, she hurried to her friend’s side. “We’ll make sure they’re all right,” she promised before sending a quick text to Sgt. Lee to get members of the unit to the pub immediately.

  “Gran, you’re going to need to stay here to coordinate not only between our own people but with General Flynn. I have a feeling things are going to go to Hell in a handbasket very quickly if we aren’t lucky.” Mac paced the room, thinking how best to proceed.

  “Jackson, get our people to safety. Many have saferooms in their homes now. Tell them to go there. The others are to bunker down the best they can.”

  He nodded. His fingers flew across the surface of his phone as he sent a series of texts. Mac wished there was more they could do but there wasn’t time. It would be dark in less than two hours. She felt sure that was when the lycans would attack.

  “It’s possible Branson believes the pride meeting is still happening.” If he did, he was a bigger fool than Mac thought. “So, we need to have a team there to intercept them.”

  “Mateo’s on it,” Jael told her after sending and receiving a text message.

  “Then get our unit ready. I’ll let Pat know what’s happening. Gran, you might clue in Culver as well. The last thing we need is for a bunch of cops to wander into the middle of a battle between our people and the wolves.”

  * * *

  “Mackenzie, you aren’t going.”

  Jackson stood just inside their bedroom at the safehouse. Feet spread, arms crossed, expression serious, he looked ready to do battle. That was good. Unfortunately, at least as far as Mac was concerned, he’d chosen the wrong one. This was most definitely not the time for a marriage spat.

  “Jackson, I’m not staying behind when our people, when our family, is in danger.” She didn’t raise her voice. Instead, she spoke softly, much as her grandmother did when she tried to make a point.

  “You’re still injured!’ He closed his eyes and she imagined him counting to ten before his eyes opened and he looked at her again. “Mac, I almost lost you just a couple of days ago. I can’t risk you or our baby again.”

  She opened her mouth to argue and then snapped it shut. He loved her and he worried about her. Just as she did him. But this was bigger than the two of them. There were so many lives at stake, especially if their secret got out. He needed to understand that.

  “Jackson, I’m not going to lie to you. This scares the shit out of me. For a lot of different reasons. If I could, I’d hide away until after the baby’s born. I don’t want to do anything to put it at risk.” Her right hand rested lightly on her stomach. “But I can’t hide away. I’m your mate. I’m the pride’s female alpha. I’m a cop on top of all that. I have to do whatever it takes to stop Branson and the others before they hurt anyone else.”

  He crossed the room and reached for her hands. She didn’t resist when he pulled her close enough he could rest his forehead against hers. For a long moment, they stood that way. She felt his anguish and his fear. Understanding, she slid her arms around him and rested her head against his chest for a moment. Then she stepped back and cupped his cheek with her right hand.

  “Jack, I will be careful. I want you to be as well. But we will do this together.”

  He blew out a breath and then nodded once.

  “If you promise me one thing.”

  She waited, wondering what he had in mind.

  “Mac, when you first joined the pride, Mike named you as our enforcer. When I took over as alpha, I left you in that role, even though you are an alpha in your own right. I did so because it is a role you are uniquely suited for.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets before continuing. “But this time, you and I are going to reverse our roles. No arguing. You are injured still. You carry our child. I’m asking you to help me protect our people while you protect the two of you.”

  “You aren’t leaving me behind.”

  “Much as I want to, I know you. You’d simply follow if I did.”

  She had the good grace to chuckle. He did know her.

  “So, you will come with us but you will not be in the lead. You will be behind us, coordinating our defenses and making sure nothing slips through. Agreed?”

  She didn’t like it, but it was better than the alternative.

  “Agreed.”

  “Then let’s get ready.”

  She nodded and moved to the closet. She planned for both of them to be armed and armored before stepping out of the room.

  31

  “Aunt Mac, they’re here!”

  Mac’s hand tightened its grip on her cellphone. She heard the fear in Chelsea’s voice. In the background came the sounds of John O’Hara telling Chelsea and her brother to go with Danny and Abbie to the basement. They were to lock themselves in and not open the door to anyone but members of the pride.

  Fear for Jael’s children, as well as her own younger siblings, filled her. Then John was on the phone, reporting the situation like the former combat veteran that he was.

  “We’ve half a dozen normals or unshifted weres approaching front and back, Mac,” he said. “The security cams picked them up. They must have parked down the street. I’ve spotted a dozen wolves. They are sticking to the shadows. Fortunately, they don’t know I’ve got infrared cams on the parking lots and side alley.”

  “Your status?” she asked as she pulled her gun and chambered a round. As she did, Jackson glanced at her from where he sat behind the steering wheel, his expression worried.

  “Moira, Nate, Zee and a couple of the others have already shifted. I’ve sent the twins and Jael’s kids, along with my youngest, down to the basement. They’ll be safe there, even if those bastards try to burn the pub down.”

  Mac’s mouth drew tight. She wasn’t going to let that happen.

  “Weapons?”

  “I see rifles and handguns on those bastards. They aren’t close enough to tell more than that yet. We’ve got an arsenal here, you know that.”

  She nodded even though he couldn’t see. She did
know about his arsenal. In fact, she’d helped him expand it not that long ago. Like Jael, he was one of the normals who dedicated their lives to helping the pures and keeping their secret from the public-at-large. They were as much warriors as the members of the pride were.

  “Tell your wife and the others that we’re less than five minutes out. They aren’t to leave the pub unless absolutely necessary. I don’t want them caught in the crossfire. Now get the building sealed. You’ve planned for this possibility since you bought it. Put those precautions into action now.”

  With that, she ended the call and send a text to Mateo, telling him to send reinforcements. Then she updated Pat. Much as she didn’t want to think about it, she preferred a good old-fashioned gun fight not far from downtown over the alternative. The last thing they needed was a bunch of shifters running around in their animal forms, fighting, killing and dying.

  “Mac?” Jael asked, her voice strained, from the backseat.

  “Your kids are fine. You know how good John’s security is. He picked Branson’s people up on the video feed and has locked down the pub. He sent your kids, the twins and his youngest to the basement with instructions to lock themselves in.”

  “I’ll kill those bastards if they harm any of our people,” Jael growled.

  Understanding, Mac nodded. Jackson told them to hang on as he sped around a corner. Then he gunned the engine and the SUV shot down the street in the direction of the pub.

  “There!”

  Three wolves moved slowly, stealthily down the street toward the pub. Jackson growled softly and his hands tightened on the steering wheel. The engine hummed like the well-tuned piece of equipment it was as his foot increased pressure on the accelerator. There was a thud, followed by a another as he managed to hit two of the wolves. One rolled toward the curb while the other seemed to take flight.

  Shouts sounded to Mac’s left as Jackson drove over the curb into the parking lot. He slammed on the brakes, positioning the SUV directly in front of the pub’s main entrance. The SUV hadn’t come to a complete stop before Mac and Jael poured out of the passenger side doors, Mac yelling for Jackson to follow her. Gun in hand, she used the SUV for cover as the pub door opened and John yelled for them to get inside.