Yeah. The elders at The Head Council were working on the case. It was in their hands, at least. But, they weren’t doing anything fast enough as far as Evan was concerned.
It didn’t matter if Ashley never spoke to Evan again. Even if she was never able to mate and hold a normal relationship, she still deserved vengeance. And Evan knew she wouldn’t rest easy until her ex was caught.
“Evan, I can hear your mind spinning. This is madness. You could get hurt. We don’t know what that asshole is capable of. What if you do find him? What are you going to do? Shoot him? How will that help Ashley? You’re useless to her from jail.”
To be honest, Evan didn’t know what he planned to do with Damon when he found him. He only knew his mind was on one track and that was locating the bastard. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I have an appointment tomorrow and then I’ll come home for a few days. Maybe we can get together if I’m not too busy.” He had no intention of seeing Josh this week, but if saying so made the guy simmer down, he’d play along.
“I’m worried about you. Please be careful. Call me when you get here. If I don’t hear from you in two days, I’m heading to your house. Got it?”
“Yep. No problem.” I won’t be there, but you go right ahead.
“’Kay. Later. Stay safe.” Josh hung up. His last words hadn’t been enthusiastic. He was leery and rightfully so.
Josh did have a valid point though. What was Evan going to do when he found Damon? He couldn’t very well kill the guy and move on.
Evan hadn’t been entirely untruthful. He did have a meeting tomorrow. He had a six o’clock flight to Seattle to meet with the elders of the North American Council. He wanted to follow up with them on what they’d found and ensure they were indeed making progress.
The elders knew who Evan was. His work wasn’t a total secret. Hell, he’d done jobs for them in the past. The Council had hired him to find a few people over the years. And they were well aware of his involvement in finding Ashley in the first place eight months ago.
What they didn’t realize was that Evan’s life mission was tracking this bastard. And to be honest, Ashley wasn’t his only motivation. The jackass had some mysterious drug on him and Evan wanted it found. He doubted the stupid fucker was making his own drugs, which meant he was acquiring the substance from someone else. Was the supplier a shifter?
Evan cringed. He couldn’t stand the thought of a fellow wolf shifter making and distributing drugs, especially experimental drugs used to keep people malleable. How many others were being drugged?
Evan had spent countless hours, days, and weeks tracking other missing shifters. He’d interviewed numerous parents of recently mated couples to see if other young girls were unaccounted for. He wanted to know if there was anyone else out there under the influence of these drugs. It was grueling work because of the nature of their species. It wasn’t uncommon for newly mated wolves to take off together. There could be any number of families out there who didn’t realize their sister, daughter, or cousin was actually being drugged and held against her will rather than having been claimed voluntarily.
So far only one family seemed to believe with certainty that their daughter may also have been a victim. It was promising, but had led to nothing but dead ends. Allison Watkins. Her parents, Geoff and Holly, had only heard from her a few times since The Gathering nine months ago. They were worried and informed The Council at Evan’s urging.
Where the hell was Allison? And why did her story sound eerily familiar?
Evan didn’t believe Damon had snatched Allison because nine months ago he’d still been with Ashley. The chances he’d been involved were slim. The idea made Evan shake until he lay back against the mattress in attempt to relieve his muscles. Who took Allison then? And how widespread was this drug problem?
He closed his eyes and pictured the sweet face of Ashley behind his lids. He swallowed around the lump that formed in his throat every time he thought about her. He needed her. Perhaps more than he had before he’d confronted her. Did she suffer as much as him?
He was beginning to doubt the adage that time and distance would ease the pain. Each day his chest hurt worse and he lost more of his ability to concentrate on anything but her memory. If she’d been dead, that would have been another story. But his mate was alive and well, hiding out in her parents’ home from a boogeyman Evan intended to catch.
•●•
Damon stuffed his duffle bag hastily for the umpteenth time in months. Years, really. Why couldn’t he shake these bastards off his trail? He was careful. He always fled with nothing but what he could carry. He never left a trace as far as he was concerned. He took a bus most of the time to avoid using any identification.
Hell, he even used throw-away cell phones he smashed repeatedly and left behind with each move, ditching them in a public trash can.
“Motherfucking assholes,” he muttered to himself. If Ashley’s damn family hadn’t intervened, this never would have happened. Why couldn’t those fools have left well enough alone? If the bitch had ever gotten pregnant and produced some cubs for him, she’d have been much more inclined to stay by his side.
But no, Ashley had been stronger willed than he’d ever suspected when he’d first laid eyes on her. She’d fought him every step of the way and had never been the docile pleasant wench he’d been guaranteed the injections he’d given her would produce.
Now he was growing weary of all the moving around the country. It didn’t matter a fuck that he received a regular allowance in exchange for keeping his fucking mouth shut. He was bone tired from being on alert, and now he didn’t even have a woman in his life to take his aggravation out on.
If the fucking Romulus, his mysterious benefactor, didn’t come up with a new, more-agreeable mate for him soon, he had every intention of breaking any deal they thought they had with him and going it alone. They had stolen almost five years of his life with their fucking promises and demands.
When they had first shown up at his doorstep five years ago with a grandiose plan to make his life a field in paradise, he’d jumped at the idea. With no living relatives and no mate, their proposition seemed sound enough. He’d been separated from all other wolf shifters for over a decade. Not that he’d been hiding. Just that he hadn’t cared to attend the biennial Gathering and he’d lived quite far from any other shifters.
Damon zipped up the duffle with a jerk and stared at the second bag he carried everywhere he went. Maybe he should leave that motherfucking shit behind this time and make his own way in life. This particular existence wasn’t panning out well.
Surely he could go it alone and drop the fucking Romulus and their damn secrets and sleep better at night.
He plopped onto the bed and leaned his elbows on his knees, burring his head in his hands. That plan wouldn’t get him another mate, or return the one he had. Nope. He was fucking doomed to wait this out a little longer before he went rogue…more rogue than he already was.
After five years of working with these people, he still knew very little about them except they were very powerful with serious financial backing. Damon didn’t live well, for fuck’s sake, but he did live almost exclusively off the constant supply of money the Romulus sent him. Any odd jobs he managed to get in each location provided icing on the cake so he could enjoy life a bit.
Why they referred to themselves as the Romulus, he had no idea. He knew there were brothers, Romulus and Remus, in Roman mythology who were nursed by a wolf in infancy. It was a common story shifters learned as children. Many shifters believed Romulus and Remus were the predecessors of today’s wolf-shifting community. Eventually Romulus killed his brother. If this group was called the Romulus, was there a Remus also? He cackled to himself. Except for the first time two men had come to his door years ago, he’d never met personally with any of them. He wouldn’t be able to describe the individuals he’d initially met with if he tried. It had been so long.
One thing he did know, if he had it to do
over again, he would never choose this path. It hadn’t been worth it. He’d been promised a fucking mate and offspring to start his own pack of which he would be the Alpha. King. He was hanging on by a thread now with more promises the Romulus were going to make everything right, providing him with a new mate and guaranteeing him things would go better with her.
He sighed. At this point he couldn’t decide if he was more pissed with the fucking Romulus for getting him into this nomad lifestyle, or that damn bitch Ashley for not complying with the game plan. No matter what involvement the Romulus had in his initial claiming of the bitch, she never respected him the way a mate should. His blood still boiled thinking about her fleeing him that day last year. Who the fuck did she think she was? She was his, damnit, and if he ever got the opportunity, he would remind her of this in no uncertain terms.
She would pay. The Romulus didn’t need to know his thoughts on Ashley. Hell, lately any ideas he had concerning his wayward mate were about the only thing he still held sacred. The Romulus seemed to have eyes everywhere. They fucking called him so often with relocation instructions he could barely lie down in one bed for more than a week at a time.
Motherfucker.
It was time to go.
Backing through the small apartment, Damon glanced around in the usual manner, covering his bases as he had dozens of times in the past. He glanced out the window at the dead of night, verified no one was currently watching, and then slipped into the darkness and moved stealthily away from this latest existence in bum-fuck Indiana.
•●•
Ashley sat at her easel in the art studio her father had relegated to one half of the basement. It dawned on her she’d been holding her brush in the air for ages when her arm began to shake. A clean canvas rested in front of her but there was no paint on the brush. In fact, there was no paint on her pallet.
She relaxed her arm, shaking her head against her complete distraction. She couldn’t think or concentrate anymore. It grew worse every day. Her thoughts were filled with one thing—Evan Harmon. She’d only seen him that one weekend, but his features were burned into the back of her eyelids. She knew his scent as though he were in the room with her. She could conjure it at will and would spin her head in every direction looking for him.
He was never there.
It was her own fault. She’d told him to leave. She’d asked him not to come back. She’d sent him away all by herself.
She knew he’d left town, buried himself in work. It was for the best.
Right?
Ugh.
Ashley set the paintbrush down and wandered to the window. It was gorgeous outside. Her parents had a walkout basement, so one side opened to the backyard. It had snowed all night and the ground was white, unadulterated by footprints this early in the day.
The world looked pristine and pure. Giant flakes drifted casually from the sky as though in no hurry to reach their destination.
She closed her eyes. Nothing about her life was as calm, relaxed, simple, or unpolluted as the backyard was. She felt as though she muddied the ground just by looking.
It was ridiculous of course, but the idea still seeped into her mind.
Footsteps on the stairs made her spin around. She almost tripped over her own feet, heart pounding as she waited for the owner of the stomping feet to emerge.
“Hey, squirt,” Josh announced as his legs came into view.
She set her hand on her chest and glared in his direction.
“Sorry,” he said when he noticed her stance. “I forgot to announce myself.” He strolled across the room and briefly pecked her cheek.
She couldn’t ask for better family. Even her own brother took care of her.
“Why are you off today?”
“It’s Monday. I’m always off on Mondays.” He stepped toward her easel and furrowed his brow as he stared at the blank canvas. And then he chuckled and grinned at her. “I get it now. You’re working on a rendition of the yard. Cute. You’ve nailed it.”
“Ha ha.” She tried to be miffed with his not-so-subtle jibe, but she couldn’t hold the emotion. A smile crept across her face. “I’m good. What can I say?” She shrugged.
“You okay?” He wandered toward her.
“Yep.” No.
“I spoke to Evan last night.”
And you found it necessary to tell me this why? She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying anything. Who cared if Josh spoke to Evan?
He continued anyway. “He’s got some meeting today and then he says he’s coming home for a few days.”
“So? How does this concern me?” She cross her arms and hugged herself tight, suddenly cold.
Josh fingered the afghan on the back of the couch and leaned his hip against the upholstery. “Don’t try that with me, Ash. I mated with Samantha months ago myself. I know you have to be hurting, no matter what you say. I don’t know how you can do it.”
“Do what?” She dipped her head, sorry she’d asked.
“Ignore the calling.”
Deflated, Ashley’s shoulders fell. He was right. Every time she thought about Evan her heart pounded and her body reacted in ways she could barely define. Sure, she’d had sex. Obviously she’d had sex. But she’d never felt half what she felt just thinking about Evan. No encounter with Damon compared to the way her body reacted to Evan’s the one and only time he’d touched her cheek for several brief seconds two months ago.
But then she considered the future. She would be a pain in his ass for life if she dragged him into her mess. It wasn’t fair to him.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” She knew good and well what he referred to, but it was so much easier to play ignorant.
“Pretending you don’t care. Faking like you can brush Evan under the rug and move on.”
“Any other choice would be cruel.”
“And you think what you’re doing isn’t? You’re only hurting both of you.” He held up a hand when she stepped back. “Look, I didn’t come here to lecture you. I’m sorry.”
He circled the couch and took a seat. “How are your classes going?”
“Okay.” She was taking two online classes this semester, trying to get her feet back under her. At least they occupied her mind and kept her busy. Her art filled the rest of her time, when she was able to disassociate and really let herself go long enough to concentrate.
“Just okay?”
“Stop acting like Mom and Dad. I get enough of that already.”
Josh chuckled. “All right. Fine. You win. Listen, the reason I came by was to see if you wanted to go for a run.”
Her heart pounded hearing the words. She was already shaking her head before he finished the sentence. “It’s snowing outside. The weather sucks.”
He laughed again. “Ash, you know good and well it’s the perfect weather. No one would come upon us and it’s beautiful. It’s my favorite time to shift. And it’s so rare to get to do so during the day.”
“I have a lot to do.” She ducked her head and stared at her feet, shuffling them on the floor. “I have homework and I’m working on a painting.”
“The one with the snow scene?” He pointed to the easel, half his mouth lifted in a grin when she glanced up.
“Look, Josh. I’m not ready, okay? Stop pestering me. I can’t do it. I don’t want to. And I’m not going to.”
He lifted both hands in surrender. “Okay. I’m just trying to help. I thought maybe if I went with you and we went during the day you might consider leaving the house.”
“Not yet.” She felt bad for raising her voice. It wasn’t his fault she was such a wuss. “I’m working on it.”
“I know you are, Ash.” He leaned back and let his head fall against the back of the couch. He seemed to stare at the ceiling.
She knew he was disappointed, and he meant the best for her, but she couldn’t be what everyone else wanted her to be. Healed. She eased closer and took a seat next to her brother. “It’s so h
ard, knowing he’s out there somewhere. I keep thinking he’s lying in wait, hiding, waiting for the opportunity to jump out and grab me. I know it’s unreasonable and he probably could care less if he ever saw me again, but that doesn’t erase the fear.”
“I know, Ash.” He reached for her hand and she let him squeeze her fingers. “Have you heard from The Head Council lately? Do they have any leads on either him or the drugs?”
“Nope. Not a word. I’m sure they’re working on it, and I doubt they want me hounding them all the time to follow up.”
“I keep hoping they’ll have a breakthrough soon,” Josh added.
“I’m sure they have more important things to do than to track down a man who is no longer holding someone hostage. I heard there are other women presumed missing now.”
Josh jerked his head up and his gaze to hers. “Where did you hear that?”
“Mom and Dad were discussing it. They didn’t know I was listening.” She narrowed her gaze at him. “You knew it too, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Do you think it’s Damon?”
Josh shook his head. “No. I think there are other cases that seem similar and may or may not be definitive leads. Please don’t worry, okay?”
“Who said I was worried?” She smiled. She’d never been more worried in her life. If anyone out there was going through what she went through… She had the urge to vomit.
Josh stood. “I have to go. I’m meeting Nathan and Samantha for that run.”
“They aren’t working today?”
“They are. But we agreed to meet for a long lunch.”
“And you thought it would be a good idea to drag me along as the third…er, fourth wheel? No thanks, bro. That sounds disgusting.”
He kissed her forehead and headed for the stairs. “It wouldn’t have been like that and you know it. I’m perfectly capable of acting respectable whenever necessary.”
“But you’re still relieved I said no on some level. Admit it.”
“Never.” She watched as he disappeared up the stairs. When he shut the door at the top, she turned to look out the window. The world was white, as white as her canvas. She prayed one day she’d be able to go outside again. She’d give anything to simply smell the outdoors without fear of detection.
Redeemed Page 6
