This Weakness For You (Entangled Select Otherworld) (Taming the Pack)

by Wendy Sparrow

“Nah, there are a few who aren’t hotheads. Alanna is volatile, but rational. She might use his death for some other benefit, but that wouldn’t have been her end goal.”

  “And this of the female you want for your Alpha?”

  Travis gave him a long look. “Cheri.”

  Jordan grimaced. He’d never live down that his previous alpha female had started that killing spree two years ago. “Okay, that’s fair—there is something intriguing about the psycho ones.”

  “Hopefully, you’re not referring to the current Mrs. Hill.”

  “The current Mrs. Hill isn’t sure she wants to be Mrs. Hill, so I think that speaks to her sanity more than anything I could say. It’s also why I’m leaving here tomorrow to convince her to give us a chance.”

  He felt Travis’s gaze on him. “How long had you been together before I called?”

  Jordan clenched his teeth before relaxing. “You want it in hours?”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have…”

  “So, Alanna is too focused on an end goal to kill rashly,” he said, interrupting. He’d come for his pack’s sake, too. And he’d finished the call with Christa fairly confident they could work things out. “Any of the others?”

  “Lara and Merilee wouldn’t have the balls for this…even if they weren’t female.” Travis gestured at the ground. “They won’t go on patrol if it’s too muddy.”

  Jordan grinned.

  Travis narrowed his eyes and pointed at him. “Shut up! Just shut up! Or I will send the whole lot of them back with you.”

  “Even Alanna?”

  “No, I’ll keep her. She was settled in this area before we even got here.” He frowned at the ground. “I don’t think Eli, Kurt, or Tom would have done this either.”

  “I’d agree.” They were previous members of his pack. “Eli has always been a bit of a peacemaker. I’d pick you as a suspect over him.”

  “Yeah, I would too…and I’m me, so there you go.”

  Jordan shook his head. “Are you sure your IQ is thirty points higher than mine? Did you hear what you just said?”

  Travis shrugged. “I need sleep. I’ve been at this a few days longer than you.”

  “Let’s head back. This place is about to get a good, solid soaking. We’ll check to make sure all your kids are tucked into bed with their tracking devices, and we’ll catch a few hours, too.”

  Standing up, Travis looked down at his pack with a wince. “Wish we could shift.”

  “Leave me your pack and do it. I can just walk back.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “It’ll give me some time to think about all this.” After his ultimatum about leaving tomorrow, he was anxious to go, but it’d feel wrong to leave this unsolved. There was something teasing the edge of his consciousness, taunting him.

  Travis didn’t give him a chance to change his mind before sprinting off on four legs. Jordan gathered up the other Alpha’s clothes, tossed them into his pack, and shouldered it. Keeping his thoughts on the murder and the suspects proved to be more difficult than he was anticipating. He kept thinking back to Christa. He couldn’t keep his head in the game. If it weren’t after midnight, he’d call her again now that he wasn’t busy.

  He’d almost reached patrolled land when the humid air carried another scent. He jerked the revolver from Travis’s pack and scanned the area. That had been another reason they’d traveled on two feet. Jordan had wondered if it was a trap that he’d sprung earlier than expected, and they’d wanted to be armed.

  The flash of eyes alerted him to her location. “Merilee, shift and step out where I can see you.”

  Her throaty laugh made him drop his revolver to his side. The scent of arousal mixed with the scent he’d recognized from her bagged clothing. “Well, if that’s all you wanted, you didn’t even have to ask nicely.”

  He reached back and grabbed Travis’s shirt from his pack and tossed it to her. “Put that on and explain yourself.”

  She took her time covering up her naked form, and he spent the time staring slightly above her head. This was going to be the rest of his life, and he’d mocked Vanessa for avoiding looking at naked pack males since she’d scent-matched. He felt like he owed her an apology…not that Alphas apologized, but he did owe her one.

  Finally, she tugged the hem down with a sigh. “You weren’t lying.”

  “About shooting you?”

  “About being matched,” she said on a low growl.

  He snorted. Not even close. He was as matched as they came. “No, I have a mate in Glacier pack. I’m not interested. Now, why are you here?”

  “I was heading home and caught your scent and thought I’d wait around to see if you were as good and as matched as you claim.” She kept her head down, but her tone implied anything but deference. Normally, females in heat were given more latitude for behavior, but he didn’t have the tolerance for this tonight.

  “Where were you coming from?”

  “Troy’s.” He caught that scent on the air as she said it—sex and Troy. A late-night hookup.

  He shook his head. “Do you have a death wish? I’m here looking for a murderer and you’re wandering around bed-hopping?”

  Even though her head was bowed, he caught the roll of her eyes. He got more respect from Christa’s cat. “That was Colby. I’m surprised it took this long for someone to shut him up. None of the rest of us are in danger.”

  “You don’t think it was poachers.”

  “Alanna as good as said it wasn’t…and she said you agreed.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose as he packed away the gun. He should have issued a gag order on that.

  “The fact that one of you killed Colby doesn’t bother you?”

  Merilee shrugged. “These things happen.” Then she inhaled deeply and lifted up the collar of Travis’s shirt to her nose. “Mmm. Is Travis home?”

  The new scent of her and Travis blended hit him. Unbelievable.

  “Head home, Merilee, and don’t go anywhere else. If I’m away from my mate, trying to save your damn ass, you should at least be attempting not to get killed.”

  Rather than the effect he’d expected, she crossed her arms and met his eyes. “Make me.”

  He’d had enough of this. He shifted in a moment, and the snarl from his jaws brooked no argument. Her eyes widened, and then she shifted and bolted home. He waited a moment to see if he’d need to chase her, but she was gone.

  Shifting back, he dressed and went to collect Travis’s shirt.

  Travis met him at his back door a few minutes later. He looked blearily concerned. “I was about to come after you. What was with that snarl?”

  Jordan yanked Travis’s shirt from the pack and handed it to him. “I don’t know. What do you think?” And he was here instead of home with Christa. Unbelievable.

  Travis pulled his nose away from the scent. “Why did you rub my shirt on Merilee?” and then he grimaced. “And Troy?”

  “She met up with me—intending to find out how mated I really was—and I made her put your shirt on so we could have a conversation about why I’m here instead of with my pack. Apparently, she thinks Colby got what he deserved, and they all think it’s nothing to worry about as your girlfriend told them it definitely wasn’t poachers. Merilee was on her way home from hooking up with Troy.”

  Travis tossed his shirt into his house. “I ought to burn that. It won’t smell like just me for too many washings.”

  “Yeah, I…” He stopped and stared at Travis. Of course…he was an idiot. “That’s what the smell was.”

  “What?”

  “All of them…or a lot of them. It smelled like when they were all gathered in the lodge.”

  Travis nodded slowly. “I can see that. It smelled like five or six of them.” He glanced behind him. “Shall we sniff the bags again and figure out which ones?”

  Jordan’s shoulders dropped. He’d rather slam his head in the door than go back through all the bags again, but they’d been careful not to le
t the scents mix last time. Now they’d be doing the opposite—finding the subtle notes of different Lycans in an orchestration of musk. “Sounds like a fun night.”

  “I’ll pop the popcorn,” Travis said, standing back to let Jordan pass.

  “Hell.”

  “Yup, we’re in it.”

  …

  Three hours later, they tossed the last bag into the center of the room. They could identify seven Lycans in all: Alanna, Merilee, Lara, Brant, Kelly, Martin, and Troy. Other than Troy, they were all new to the Rainier pack.

  They’d had to sort through chemical scents like detergents and antibacterial soap, and other products like iodine and ethanol—possibly from Alanna’s veterinary practice. There’d been decay and mud to factor in. Finally there was a musky scent he couldn’t quite pick out, but it was mingled with Colby’s blood enough that it was possibly related to him. Colby had gone from work straight to the meeting he’d died after, so the other scent might be one of the barflies they’d met. It smelled familiar, but wasn’t in one of the labeled bags.

  Jordan sat on the carpet beside the bags and looked from name to name. Seven Lycans.

  Travis sat on the other side of the pile and kept inhaling the communal scent of all the opened bags and shaking his head. “How is this possible? Outside of Troy, I’d have guessed the rest of them wouldn’t kill another Lycan.”

  “What else do they have in common?”

  “Well, other than Alanna, they’re the most promiscuous. I keep trying to explain the concept of monogamy to them, but they seem to feel it’s an outdated concept—even for Lycans. I’m expecting one of the females to get pregnant, and it’ll sober them up real quick.”

  “What do they do…besides each other…I mean for a living?” He was making less sense the longer this dragged on.

  “Martin and Brant work for a lumber company. Troy works for a private ambulance outfit here, instead of with the fire department, so his work keeps him tied to the area around the hospital. Lara and Kelly work at a restaurant. Merilee works from home—and by that I mean she makes amateur videos that sell very well among the male demographic.”

  “Sounds like your garden variety bunch of mindless killers.” He wiped both hands down his face. “So, seven Lycans got together, despite their varied schedules and tracking tags suggesting otherwise, for a fun little party. They caught and killed Colby, smeared themselves with his guts and ran through the forest? I’m sorry, but that sounds pretty damn ridiculous.”

  “It does.”

  “It would have taken planning and organization and cover-up, and having had a conversation with Merilee…” He gestured toward the area he’d last seen her. “If she’s making videos with that level of acting, Tarantino would be on her speed dial.”

  Travis snorted. “No. She’s not that great an actress.”

  Jordan raised his eyebrows.

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Jordan picked up one of the bags before tossing it down again. “Plus, we should have caught some traces of one over the others at times, but we didn’t. It was all of them or none of them. That makes no sense.”

  “Nope.”

  “We also didn’t see varying size prints…and even though you said all but Merilee had prints that could be mistaken for males, we only saw one size print.”

  “Yup.”

  Jordan dropped onto his back on the carpet. “Okay. This is the only way it makes sense: someone got items from them, just like we did, and wrapped the clothes around themselves and the last two nights have been a wild-goose chase.” He hit a fist against the floor. “And it’s possible that last damn scent is actually the one we need, or it could be any of them, or it could be so subtle we’re not catching it.” He hit the floor again.

  Travis groaned and dropped to the floor. “They had this damned all-nighter at the cabin we use for meetings—all but Alanna, all six of them. That’s probably the link. Clothing was very optional from what I found when I went in the next morning. Anyone could have grabbed clothing that night.”

  “When was this orgy?”

  “Three weeks ago. But how did they get Alanna’s scent?”

  “Clothing like lab coats go in and out of her work for cleaning every day, and that might be why the scent of iodine and rubbing alcohol was so strong.”

  “I guess that rules out a drifter…Lycan.”

  Jordan snorted. “I’d already ruled that out. Only someone who knows me would know how to piss me off this much and fake this good of a trail.”

  Exhaustion set in fast. It’d been too many long nights to have it end in a load of nothing like this.

  “Yup.”

  “Aw, hell.” He kicked the bags away from him. The scent was even more repugnant than it’d been a minute ago. It smelled like defeat in addition to everything else.

  “Yup.”

  “I hate your pack.” All this time—all this time away from his pack, away from Christa—for nothing.

  Travis just shrugged.

  “I hate their guts.”

  Travis sighed and said, “Especially Colby’s, I imagine.”

  Jordan closed his eyes. He’d sleep on the floor for a few hours—then he’d get up and kill every member of the Rainier pack just for this hell.

  Travis pushed to his feet and headed to bed. First he’d kill Travis for having the energy to get up and go find a bed.

  Okay, he couldn’t stand the smell anymore. Fighting the black wall of exhaustion, he got to his feet and stumbled down the hall to the spare bedroom. When he went to move his bag off his bed, he caught the scent of something much more pleasant, buried under the clothing he’d packed. Vanilla and brown sugar. He upended his bag. Down at the bottom, he found a cloth ponytail holder of Christa’s. She’d had it in her hair when they’d been packing—either she’d dropped it in on purpose or by accident. He set it on the bedside table and shoved his clothes off onto the floor before collapsing on the bed. A few hours of sleep, one last powwow with Travis, and he’d be back with his mate.

  All this time, being yanked around. It was as if someone was stalling him here…

  His eyes shot open.

  Aw, hell.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Didn’t you just go to sleep?” Travis asked when he shook him awake.

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “One of your people is yanking my chain, and I think they’re stalling me on purpose.”

  “Why?”

  “That is what I want to find out. All your pack at the lodge in one hour. Tell them anyone not there will forfeit their life, and I will purposefully hunt them down and kill them.”

  Travis was wide-awake now. “Uhh.”

  “Do it!”

  A half an hour later, they were in front of the computer watching the tracking tags.

  “Shouldn’t we be going to the lodge?”

  “Nope. We don’t need to see who shows up. We want to know who makes excuses and doesn’t show up. One of your pack isn’t actually here.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “All this misdirection—the blood, the other scents, the flimsy appearance of it being poachers. They knew the suggestion of poachers would get our attention, but that we’d guess it wasn’t them fairly early, setting us at ease—and making us take a harder look at your pack. The only explanation for this wild-goose chase is that they’re not here—otherwise they wouldn’t want us roaming all over looking for them. It looks like most of the pack is heading toward the lodge. Who is making excuses?”

  “Merilee says she is going to be fifteen minutes late. Ross says he’s too sick to move and that you can just come kill him anyway and put him out of his misery.” Travis smiled at this, but Jordan swore.

  Pulling out his phone, he called Dane.

  “Do you know it’s five a.m.?” Dane asked, instead of answering.

  “Tell me about Ross. You knew him.”

  “Uhh, just from talking to dispat
ch, and honestly, he seemed to prefer to talk to Sammy.”

  “Why?”

  “I think he had a crush on her.”

  Jordan swung to look at Travis. “Who asked what really happened to Sammy?”

  “A few of them, but definitely Ross,” Travis said, tapping on the GPS tag with Ross’s name.

  “Who asked you to drag me down here?”

  “Same thing, but I think it started with Ross.” Travis clicked through all the check-ins. He hadn’t changed locations the entire time Jordan had been around.

  Their eyes met.

  “Jordan, what’s going on?” Dane asked.

  “Dammit,” Jordan said, grabbing his keys from beside the computer. “Travis, reroute Tom and Sean to Ross’s place—meet them there and call me with what you find. See if you can do a trace on Ross’s cell.” He said into the phone, “Dane, emergency meeting. All the pack has to be there—kids, seniors, sick or healthy—they all have to be there. I’ll call Christa and get back with you. You’re in charge of the rest of them. Anyone who doesn’t show up may be dead already. I’ll be there in two hours or sooner. Oh, and notify everyone that Ross should be considered a hostile.” He hung up and immediately began dialing again.

  Shouldering the phone, he sprinted to the spare room and glanced at the clothes. Travis could have them. It’d cost him too much time to pack. Time he didn’t have. He grabbed the hair thing off the side table, stuffing it in his pocket, and fifteen seconds later, he was driving ninety down forest roads. If any cops tried to pull him over, they could just follow him back to Glacier Peak and his house and Christa—because, dammit, his home phone was already busy.

  …

  Christa sat at the desk, twirling a pen around her finger. Calling across time zones was sometimes exhausting. She yawned as soon as she said good-bye to one of her vets and put her head on Jordan’s desk. Another long day without Jordan here. His lack of progress probably meant he’d be there for another few days at the very least. She looked up a new file. A couple more calls, and she’d break for an early lunch.

  A half an hour later, she was smoothing the wrinkles from her forehead and tapping her pen on the desk. “Yeah, but Ernie, you know you shouldn’t play Russian roulette with your meds like that. I can find a way to get you financial help for the prescriptions, but you have to actually take them—not just what you want to pay for or what you remember. I can have a medication timer and pill container shipped to your house.”