by Layla Nash
Dodge didn’t like talking about pack business with someone from the outside, particularly when the other person was an alpha who could rightfully try to sentence Silas to death for what had happened that morning. Only his faith in Evershaw’s willingness and ability to defend the pack let Dodge keep talking. “The human caught sight of Silas and flipped out. She panicked and ran. Now we’ve got to talk to her before she runs her mouth.”
A low growl started in Rafe’s chest, and a muscle in his jaw jumped as he ground his teeth. “She’s fully human? Nothing – else?”
“Far as we know, one hundred percent human,” Dodge said. He’d heard that Rafe’s mate wasn’t entirely human, which made him sensitive to how much the magical community was involved in shifter business. Although Dodge didn’t know if that would be a help or a hindrance in their particular situation with Lawson.
“Anything else we should know about? She lives on my territory, so if she starts making a fuss, she’s our responsibility.”
Dodge didn’t like that one bit. Not at all. Rafe was an all right guy, as far as up-tight alphas went, but Dodge didn’t like his pack – bunch of young kids, slick and inexperienced but too confident. And Rafe’s sister was mated to a lion, and who knew what kind of trouble that meant? He studied his cigar and wished he could have scented more of the architect’s perfume in the air. “She might have seen Deirdre working magic. We don’t know for sure.”
Rafe cursed and ran a hand through his hair. “God damn it. What the fuck is Evershaw doing over there, letting this kind of shit happen?”
Dodge let his expression settle into a dangerous mask, so the other wolf would know he was serious, and leveled a calm gaze at the guy. “Probably best you don’t talk about my alpha like that. It’s our problem, and we’ll fix it. I won’t be on your territory a moment longer than I need to be.”
A growl answered, and Rafe’s eyes glinted gold as he bristled, responding to Dodge’s challenge with the necessary posturing. Dodge didn’t back down, but since Rafe no doubt wanted to avoid an all-out brawl on his own turf, he didn’t push it much further. “Get the fuck off my territory in the next thirty minutes. I see you over here again without a head’s up, you’ll get your ass kicked. Got it?”
Dodge snorted and tried not to laugh. “If you say so.”
Rafe grabbed a fistful of his shirt and looked like he wanted to fight, regardless of whether they were bystanders. “Listen, jackass –“
“No one’s here from your pack,” Dodge said, biting off each word. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me, mate, so don’t bite off more than you can chew by throwing the first punch. I won’t start the fight but I’ll damn well finish it, hear me? I’ll take care of my business with this girl and get the fuck off your territory. Talk to Evershaw about everything else.”
He managed to stay calm, at least, although his wolf howled to get free and show the bastard why Dodge would have been a better alpha. He held onto control with his fingertips as red flashes filled his vision and started to distract him from the reality surrounding them. Dodge struggled with his own control, enough that he figured Evershaw would eventually have to bail his ass out of jail for pummeling Rafe O’Shea into a puddle on the sidewalk.
But Rafe shoved him back, all his teeth showing in a warning, and snapped, “You have twenty minutes.”
He stormed off, still growling, and said something to a hulking bruiser that had accompanied him. No doubt the meathead was there to verify Dodge went on his way in twenty minutes. Dodge turned his attention back to the apartment building, carefully straightening his shirt and jacket, and checked his cigar. Son of a bitch knocked the coal off. He muttered and carefully re-lit it, then leaned against the building behind him so he could look even more like he had zero fucks to give. Let the meathead report that back to the O’Sheas.
Dodge stayed right where he was for twenty-three minutes, just to make sure BloodMoon pack knew he wasn’t going to be intimidated, even by their alpha. But he called Evershaw to warn him the O’Sheas might end up pretty pissed off, and damn well enjoyed making his own alpha’s life a little more difficult.
He grinned as he enjoyed every minute of the cigar. There was a lot to be said for not being the boss.
Chapter 9
Percy
A few hours of physical labor, dragging plants and trees around, actually helped smooth out my nerves. By the time I got to the sanctuary, half an hour south of the city, most of the rest of the staff had left for the day. There were only a few zookeepers and large animal handlers, the maintenance staff, the manager, and the occasional construction worker, but apparently none of them felt the need to assist with moving the massive delivery of flora meant for the leopard enclosure.
But Geordie had, indeed, left a hand-truck to help me move all the plants.
It also made me feel a lot better to curse him – very loudly and very personally – each time I stubbed my toes or dropped a bucket on my foot or wrenched my back. I wasn’t afraid of hard work, but I also wasn’t physically conditioned for throwing around hundreds of pounds of dirt and trees.
If only Mr. Muscles himself, Dodge, was there to help. He could have managed to relocate everything in record time.
The thought stopped me in my tracks and made my cheeks heat. I pressed my hands to my lower back so I could stretch, trying to put aside any temptation to call him. Not that I had his number. I didn’t even know his last name – or if Dodge was his last name. Or first name. Or nickname, for God’s sake.
I pulled off my work gloves and stumbled over to sit heavily on an overturned wheelbarrow. I’d worked through dinner and managed to get most of the plants taken care of, but it left me out in the middle of nowhere with a growling stomach and nothing to fill it. Charging Ms. Bridger for the extra hours would help take the edge off my irritation, even though it was all Geordie’s fault. I wondered if I could approach her about the manager and see whether there was a different interlocutor I could work with at the charity. Clearly we would never get the enclosures completed in time for the newest arrivals if none of the other staff helped.
I rotated my neck, trying to relieve some of the pressure in my shoulders, and exhaled. Definitely time to go home. I could call Ms. Bridger tomorrow and give her a progress update, and try to work in that there was trouble brewing with some of her employees. Not that it was really my place to complain. I adjusted my ponytail and pushed to my feet, hobbling a little as my thighs screamed in protest. It was going to be one of those nights where I’d lifted so much stuff I wouldn’t be able to raise my arms up to wash my hair in the shower.
I turned off the lights in the area near where the leopard dens were and headed for the main big cat house. I liked to say good night to the cats, though the tiger was a nocturnal beast and was usually there to rub up against the glass when I walked by. They were the reason I was willing to work so hard. It didn’t really matter if Geordie was a total dick to me. At the end of the day, big cats, wolves, bears, and other massive predators would be saved from miserable lives in zoos and sideshows and carnivals. It helped ease some of the tension in my chest as I trudged across the dark field toward the big cat house.
A few lights bobbed across the area, like flashlights carried by people, and I slowed, frowning. There shouldn’t have been anyone else at the sanctuary so late. Everyone who’d been there when I arrived had checked in with me before they departed, so I damn well knew I was the last person inside the fence.
My heart beat a little faster. What if people broke in to get a look at the animals, or to mess with them? I’d asked Ms. Bridger and Geordie about increased security to keep people out, but they’d been more focused on keeping the animals in.
Part of me wanted to sit down and cry. It was just a really shitty day and getting worse with every passing minute. I couldn’t make it to where I’d parked my car behind one of the big containers they used for offices without potentially running into whoever carried the flashlights. I eased closer t
o one of the storage sheds and fumbled for my phone, thinking I could... do what? Call the cops and wait thirty minutes for someone to show up? Hope that whoever was roaming around the property didn’t end up hurting the animals or releasing them or getting eaten?
A rough voice muttered, “Over here. I already told you, over here. The tiger.”
I tensed. Was that Geordie? What the hell was he doing back? He never worked after-hours, which was another reason he was a shitty manager. Everyone else had to be on-call, but not him. A scowl tightened my forehead and only worsened the headache I’d been fighting since fleeing... whatever had happened at the Evershaw house. How dare Geordie pitch a fit about the delivery, make me do all the work, then show up after the fact, probably to complain about the way I’d done things?
But... there was definitely more than one flashlight, and who was he talking to? Other male voices answered him, too low and gruff to make out what they said. Boots scuffled through the dirt and into the building reserved for vet check-ups, quarantining the animals when they first arrived, and other special cases. The tiger had been moved in there for a dental cleaning the next day, so the building definitely wasn’t empty.
I craned my neck and made out a large SUV with heavily tinted windows parked on the grounds where only company trucks were supposed to drive. The back gate yawned open, a large tarp on the ground beneath it. A large bundle waited on the tarp, also wrapped up in something like heavy plastic sheeting. I held my breath and didn’t get any closer as the voice grew louder, returning, and four massive guys appeared.
Three of them went to pick up and carry the bundle from the tarp and into the building, while Geordie stood back and did nothing. Typical. They all returned to the vet building, talking loudly and arguing about how heavy it was and who was slacking off. I frowned. Whatever it was they carried, it looked like it weighed a ton. All three men exerted all of their strength and still seemed to struggle.
What the hell were they up to? Were they moving a new animal in while it was still tranquilized? Had they wrapped it up to make it easier to transport, though it meant the poor animal suffered even more? I gritted my teeth and steeled my courage. Whatever Geordie was up to, I needed to know. I didn’t want to keep working at a place that supported shady business and sneaking around in the middle of the night.
I waited until I couldn’t hear their voices before I sneaked closer to the building and the half-open door near the service entrance. It wasn’t difficult to follow their tracks. Whatever they carried dripped something dark and slightly greasy along the halls and corridors, practically leaving a trail to the kitchen part of the building, where the keepers prepared meals for all the animals. The massive fridge and freezer contained sides of beef, antelope, sheep, and other assorted meats for the predators to eat, as well as the fruits and veggies they needed for a balanced diet. The big work tables also had grinders and saws and sharp knives. I’d done a tour through there only once and been impressed with the stainless steel, ultra-modern tools, and large bins filled with assorted meat already chopped into good-sized chunks for tigers and lions and bears.
But it wasn’t particularly conducive to peeking around to find out what people were doing in the only half-lit room. I frowned and edged to the very side of the door in the hall, not quite ready to crane my head around. I strained to hear what they said, but the men seemed to communicate only in grunts and gestures. Nothing useful came through to clue me in on what they were doing.
Something heavy and wet fell to the floor with a squish and a thump, and one of the guys laughed. “Bet he didn’t see that one comin’.”
“He didn’t see none of it comin’,” another voice said, and was answered by chuckles. “Put that over there before more blood gets on the floor. I don’t wanna be here all night cleaning.”
Blood? One of the electric saws buzzed to life and then immediately cut into something firm and possibly bony, grinding as it encountered something harder than just... My stomach turned over. Were they cutting something up?
I steeled my courage and held my breath as I peeked around the corner. I couldn’t see much; the men were out of sight at the far worktable, hidden from me by a large rolling pantry, but the edge of their tarp was visible on the floor.
My hands tightened on the doorjamb as I stared at the tarp and legs. Feet. Most in shoes, but one was bare. Bare and... My heart dropped. I wobbled and sucked in breath to scream, since there didn’t seem like anything else to do. It wasn’t connected to anything. The foot was there and part of a calf and then it just – ended. It just ended with a dull chunk of yellow-white bone and a lot of blood and red meaty bits sticking up.
Bile rose in my throat and I felt hot and flushed all over as panic rose up. They were cutting up a person?
Before I could scream or even think of what to do next, a hand clapped over my mouth and an arm slid around my middle, yanking me back against a hard body. A calm voice said, “Don’t move.”
Chapter 10
Dodge
Dodge waited his twenty-three minutes, and a few extra seconds, just to see whether the meathead down the street would get froggy and take a swing at him. When the big dude looked about ready to make his move, Dodge shoved upright and sauntered across the street to the apartment building. He took the stairs quickly, searching the stairwells and internal halls for signs of trouble, and tried to imagine Persephone taking the elevator to her door after a long day.
It was remarkably easy to pick the lock on her door; it was a standard tumbler, probably the original one from when the apartments were built twenty years prior. He shook his head and made a mental note to tell her to change the damn lock. There was no telling how many people still had keys to it or had made copies and handed them around. Anyone could have walked in at any time, with no warning. He closed the door and surveyed the inside of the apartment.
Of course, it wasn’t his business to advise the architect on basic security principles. She probably wouldn’t even want to hear from him after he dragged her back to Evershaw’s house so Deirdre could try to explain what happened. Dodge frowned as he studied the apartment and searched for a hint of who the architect really was.
It didn’t feel like a home or even particularly lived-in, though available records indicated she’d lived there for at least two years. The furniture looked second-hand and shabby but comfortable and well cared for. It was a two bedroom apartment, so not the smallest floorplan of the buildings that he could find, but it wasn’t the largest. He checked the fridge but didn’t find anything exciting: some frozen meals, takeaway containers, a pint of ice cream, and some sad looking vegetables.
The tour continued into the bedroom, though he stopped in the doorway and bit back a smile. She made her bed perfectly. Not the half-hearted ‘throw back the sheets’ move most people seemed to favor. She’d smoothed down the sheets and the soft pale blue comforter, stacked up the pillows, and put some decorative pillows on top for good measure. It completely fit the architect’s prim and proper outward appearance. Of course she made her bed like that.
He trailed his fingers across the comforter, even though he typically wouldn’t touch anything in someone else’s den, and figured maybe she had second-hand furniture because she paid for the really expensive shit against her skin. Dodge made a thoughtful noise and peeked into the bathroom. Again he was surprised and pleased and a little taken aback. For some reason, her efficient and business-like presence made him assume she’d have used the separate bathtub for storage and showered to save time. Instead, it was surrounded by candles and scented bubble bath containers and luxury towels and all kinds of interesting things.
Which just made him imagine Persephone after a long day, enjoying a hot soak and a good book and... Dodge shook himself as his thoughts spiraled a little too far out from reality. Just because she was exactly his type in every fucking way he’d never imagined, didn’t mean it wasn’t creepy as hell to be sneaking through her apartment.
He turned hi
s attention to the task at hand. If he didn’t find her, she could do something crazy – like go to the police or animal control or the media. Then they would all be in a world of shit and he wouldn’t be able to save her from whatever the fucking alphas decided had to happen. He couldn’t remember what happened the last time a human tried to expose shifters and magic to the rest of the world. It wasn’t good, he had no illusions about that.
And poor Persephone Lawson looked like she could disappear without anyone raising a big fuss. There were no family pictures in the apartment, no letters or cards on the fridge, no knick-knacks or heirlooms or anything that looked like it was treasured. Just a few images of beaches and mountains taken from magazines and pinned up in places, some architecture books and National Geographics on the coffee tables in the small living room, and a framed diploma from some university he probably should have heard of.
Dodge checked the small kitchen table near the single window, and found a scattered sample of draft brochures for an animal sanctuary outside the city. He picked them up and sorted through them. Maybe she went there. He figured she would have fled to safety in her den to hunker down and choose her next move, like any sane animal would, but maybe she continued on with her day?
Damn impressive, if she was that iron-willed. He checked the address for the sanctuary and put together a plan so he could quickly trap her and get her out of there without any witnesses. It was mid-afternoon, so there might have been other workers around. Better for everyone if it wrapped up quickly and he got her safely back to the alpha’s house. Then Evershaw and Deirdre could deal with it.
