by Lisa Childs
The woman shook her head, as if afraid to even speak.
“Kate, meet Sylvia. Sylvia, Kate,” the man performed the introductions with great irony.
A pang of jealousy struck her heart. This young beauty was Sylvia—no wonder Warrick was unable to forgive his brother for stealing her away. The woman stared at Kate with curiosity, no doubt wanting to know who Kate was to whom. But Kate needed to satisfy her own curiosity first.
“Who are you?” Kate asked the man.
He pressed a hand to his chest. “Have I been remiss? I thought you already knew who I am. Didn’t my nephew tell you all about the leader of his pack?”
Kate shook her head. “Warrick told me nothing about the pack.”
“But you know about us,” the man said. “And humans aren’t allowed to learn about us and live.”
“I only know about the pack because you attacked me,” she pointed out. “It was you that night outside my apartment building.”
He chuckled. “I would have finished you off then but I figured you might come in handy to get my nephew to do what I need him to do. It was better to just hurt you a little—just enough to infuriate him.”
“You want him to kill Reagan,” the young woman finally spoke, her voice raspy with anger and fear, “so you have no threat to your leadership.”
“There is no threat to my leadership,” the old man insisted.
Sylvia’s full lips curved into a mocking smile. “No? Then why are you so determined to pit your nephews against each other?”
“I didn’t do that,” the man said. “You did.”
Sylvia flinched, and regret darkened her silvery green eyes.
“You never told me your name,” Kate said, wanting to draw the madman’s attention away from the pregnant woman. She did not know how much more stress Sylvia would be able to handle in her condition. Her friend Paige had once lost a baby under a lot less duress.
“I am Stefan James,” the old man said with great pride. “The leader of the St. James Pack.”
“Shouldn’t you be with them?” she asked. “How can you lead your pack if you’re here?”
“My pack understands that I need to be here,” he insisted, “that I need to make certain there is justice for my brother’s murder.”
“A murder you orchestrated,” Sylvia said, “just like you’re trying to orchestrate Reagan’s and Warrick’s murders.”
Panic clutched Kate’s heart. “You want Warrick dead, too?”
Sylvia nodded. “Like Reagan, Warrick is a threat to his leadership.”
“Warrick is a threat to no one. He has done nothing to restore his honor, nothing to avenge his father’s death.” Stefan snorted his disgust. “The only thing he has done in Zantrax is get involved with this human.”
It was apparent that he had no respect for human life—for humans.
He had only one use for her.
“So you’re going to use me,” Kate said, “to get Warrick to do what you want. But why bring Sylvia here?”
“I brought her because I’m not sure Warrick is certain which of you he really wants,” Stefan James replied. “The beautiful human or the young woman he’d chosen as his mate only to have his brother steal her away before he could claim her as his.”
After their last meeting, Kate believed Sylvia was the woman Warrick wanted. That he had never stopped wanting the blonde. Kate had only been a temporary substitute.
“He didn’t love me,” Sylvia whispered, as if she’d noticed Kate’s pain and wanted to comfort her.
“Shh,” Kate shushed her. If Stefan thought Sylvia could no longer be of use, he might get rid of her now. There was no way he would let her go back to the pack, not with what she’d learned.
The young woman nodded and rubbed her hands over her swollen belly. She wasn’t worried about her own safety but that of her unborn baby.
Kate had to make certain she protected them both. For Warrick. He would never forgive himself if something happened to them.
“Now I need to get this show on the road,” Stefan said, reaching in his pocket for a cell phone. “It’s dragged on long enough.” But before he could dial a number, the phone rang. He glanced at the screen and grinned. “Well, well…”
“Who is it?” Kate asked. “Warrick?” Had he figured out that he’d trusted the wrong man?
He picked up Kate’s gun and trained it on her. “If either of you makes a sound, I will kill the human.”
He could have killed Sylvia, too, with the bullets in that gun. But he must not have known what Reagan had loaded into her weapon.
“Hello, nephew,” Stefan greeted his caller. “How nice of you to finally get in touch with me.”
Reagan. It had to be him because from what he’d already shared, he had recently been in contact with Warrick—when he’d asked the man to bring him Sylvia.
“I don’t know if I can meet you now,” Stefan replied. “I’m a little busy with something—kind of all tied up.”
A deep voice rumbled from the phone, but the words were unintelligible to Kate.
“Do not leave the city yet,” Stefan snapped. “I will come see you.”
Sylvia leaned in front of Kate and began to scream, “He’ll kill—”
But Kate, despite her bound wrists, clasped her palm over the younger woman’s mouth, silencing her.
Stefan dropped the gun back onto the table and his phone back into his pocket. “Don’t worry,” he told Kate. “I will not kill you over her outburst. He had already hung up.”
He leaned down and connected the end of Sylvia’s chain to that bar on the wall, tethering her like an animal. Like Kate. He shook his head at his niece-in-law. “With your disregard for human life, you would have made a good member of the pack. Too bad that I will have to kill you, too.”
He straightened up and sighed. “But that will have to wait…until I get back from killing Reagan since Warrick has been too weak to do it.” Whistling in anticipation he opened the door then locked it behind himself, locking the two women in alone together.
“I wouldn’t have let him shoot you,” Sylvia said. “I was going to take the bullet. It wouldn’t kill me.”
“Those bullets would,” Kate said. “Reagan put silver ones in there for me.”
“Reagan?” she asked, her breath catching. “You’ve met Reagan?”
“I don’t know that we were ever officially introduced, but yes, I’ve met your…mate.” Was he also the father of her child or had Warrick fathered her baby before Reagan had stolen her away?
The thought—that Sylvia’s baby could belong to the man Kate loved—had her feeling empty and achy inside. She wasn’t even sure she would be able to give Warrick a child—if he wanted one. But then he didn’t even want her…
“His uncle is going to kill him,” Sylvia said, tears glistening in her eyes. “Stefan has another gun all loaded with silver bullets. Reagan and Warrick trust and respect that man. They don’t see how evil he is.”
“He’s crazy,” Kate agreed. “We need to work together to get free. We’ll need to have that gun when he comes back.” It was the only way they could stop him from killing them and Warrick. If they couldn’t get to the weapon in time, they would be joining Reagan in death.
*
“He’s not coming here to talk to you. He’s coming here to kill you,” Warrick warned his brother.
Reagan shrugged off his concern. “He’ll come alone then. And it’ll give you time to track Kate and save her.”
“I don’t think she’s alone.”
Reagan’s breath audibly caught. “You caught her scent, too?”
“He’s brought Sylvia to Zantrax.” Just as Warrick had asked. He shook his head in self-disgust for having been stupid enough to trust the man.
“Yes.”
“Are you putting your life at risk for her or me?” Warrick wondered.
“For everyone I love.” Reagan’s throat moved as he swallowed hard, as if struggling with emotion. His brother
definitely loved the woman he had claimed as his mate. But when he’d chosen to protect Warrick from their father, he had been forced to leave her.
Warrick truly let go of the last of his resentment and bitterness. His brother had not chosen to betray him; he’d just chosen love.
Like Warrick wished he’d done with Kate.
Crossing the bank vault, Warrick hugged the man on whom he’d once vowed such bitter vengeance. He hoped like hell it would not be the last time he would see his brother. But their uncle was too powerful to vanquish without a bitter fight. And there were always casualties in a bloody battle.
*
As the door closed behind his brother, Reagan breathed a deep sigh. At least Warrick had forgiven him. What about Sylvia? Would she ever forgive him for what he’d done to her life—for how he’d messed up everything?
She was alive. For now…
He could feel her close. He could feel her fear, too.
Hopefully Warrick could track down the women in time to protect them. Because Reagan didn’t have any silver bullets. He had given them all to Kate.
So he would only be able to stall Uncle Stefan. He wouldn’t be able to stop him. And he wasn’t even sure how long he would be able to stall him—because Uncle would be prepared. He would have silver bullets with him.
The door rattled and Reagan tensed. Warrick hadn’t been gone long, but he was too focused on finding the women to have come back for any reason. No, it was Uncle. Along with the older wolf’s scent, Reagan picked up his aura—of evil.
He’d arrived quickly. So the women were close. Warrick would find them. He would protect them. Reagan trusted his brother to do that. And he would take care of Sylvia, too.
Regret filled Reagan that he would never see his mate again. He would never again be able to kiss and touch the woman he loved.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. She was close. But not close enough to hear him.
Could she feel him—like he could feel her? Did she feel his love?
“I’m sorry,” he murmured again. Sorry that he’d claimed her when he wasn’t able to keep the promises he’d made her. That he would protect her. That he would take care of her.
The only promise he could keep was that he would love her forever. The door rattled again before opening. This was it. The end…
Chapter 17
Tears stung Sylvia’s eyes, blinding her. He was going to die. She knew it—that Reagan had offered up his life for his brother’s. For hers…
He was using himself as bait now to lure his uncle away from her and the human. But even though the woman was human, she was strong—far stronger than Sylvia. There were no tears in her eyes as she leaned close.
“Come on,” Kate urged her. “We need to fight.”
It was too late for Reagan—too late for her to save the man she loved. “He’s going to die…”
Kate shook her head. “We don’t know that,” she said. “But we do know that Stefan could come back anytime. We have to get loose. You have to get me loose.”
The human wanted her help?
“You can do this,” Kate urged her. “You’re stronger than me.”
A sad chuckle slipped through Sylvia’s lips. “You don’t know me at all.”
“You’re stronger than me,” Kate repeated. “I’m human. You’re not.”
“I’m not strong enough.” Physically or emotionally. Sylvia held up her wrists. “I can’t break the chain.”
“You don’t have to get loose,” Kate said. “You just have to get me loose.”
What did it matter if Reagan was already dead?
But then her babies moved, kicking and punching. They were fighters. She couldn’t give up. She had to get them a chance. She blinked back her tears and focused.
*
Even in her human form, Sylvia’s teeth were sharp. Painfully sharp where she’d nipped Kate’s flesh. Blood from the torn skin of her wrists saturated the bindings that Sylvia worked free with her mouth. Finally the last fiber of rope snapped and Kate managed to break free of the bindings.
But the rope around her ankles held, tethering her yet to the wall where Sylvia was bound. She reached for the rope and tried to work the knot loose with fingers that were numb from being circulation deprived.
“You can take a minute,” Sylvia said as she leaned against the wall gasping for breath. “Let the feeling return to your fingers.”
Kate shook her head, the knot of nerves in her stomach as tight as the knot of the rope. “I don’t trust him. He’s playing games with us.”
One of those games was not allowing much air into the underground room. That was probably why Sylvia struggled so hard to breathe, not from her exertion, but from lack of oxygen. They had to get free soon, or they wouldn’t have the chance.
Sylvia nodded and began to help. “He’s been playing games with the whole pack. He has them all turned against Reagan and Warrick.”
“And you?” Kate asked, wondering how the woman had survived, especially given her delicate condition.
Sylvia nodded.
Kate’s respect for the young woman grew, especially when she made short work of the rope around her ankles. “Now we have to free you,” she said. She had to get the pregnant woman and unborn child out of the stifling room.
Sylvia shook her head. “The chain is too heavy. We can’t break or cut it. You need to get out of here and bring back help.”
Warrick. He would help—if his uncle didn’t get to him first with those damn silver bullets. But then Kate remembered the door. “There’s no getting all those locks picked, not from the inside,” she admitted. “But I wouldn’t leave you anyway. All I need is the gun.”
The door rattled. It couldn’t have been Stefan back already. Without the silver bullets he’d given her, Reagan wouldn’t have been able to stop the man for long. But maybe he’d given her just enough time…
“Warrick?” she called out.
“The room is soundproof,” Sylvia reminded her. “And mostly unventilated. I don’t think Warrick could have found us.”
And if he hadn’t that left only them to take care of themselves. As the door swung open, Kate jumped to her feet and reached for the gun. But her legs, numb from being tied so long, folded beneath her. She fell into the table, knocking it over and falling on top of the splintering wood. The gun slid across the floor toward Stefan James.
He sneered at their efforts to escape him. “I’ve never known two bitches to work together before.” Their captor left the door open behind him, allowing a blast of air into the room, but his body blocked their escape. He chuckled. “But you are no more a match for me than my foolish nephews.”
“Why are you back already?” Sylvia asked. “Was Reagan that close?”
The question she really wanted to ask, the one filling her green eyes with fear, was if her mate lived. Kate wanted to know, as well.
“Reagan was trying to trick me,” Stefan said with a slight smile of respect. “The boy was always more like me than his father—not that his father would have ever admitted it.”
“Warrick’s smart, too,” Kate defended the man she loved. “I’m sure he’s figured out that you’re the one he really needs to bring to justice. Not his brother.”
“They’re probably working together,” Sylvia added with a chuckle. “Doing the exact opposite of what you wanted.”
“Your plan is falling apart,” Kate said, trying to edge closer to where the gun lay on the floor. The splintered boards cracked beneath her, digging into her hip and thigh.
“You think I would fall for such a ploy?” Stefan asked with outraged pride.
Kate stilled, daring not even to breathe. He had figured out she was trying to reach the gun. But he made no move for it, as if unconcerned that the weapon was so close to her.
“Even working together, those two would not be able to outsmart me,” he arrogantly claimed. “They are not about to lure me away from the two of you.”
“What is your
plan?” Sylvia asked. “How are you using the two of us for bait?”
“Even in his human form, Warrick is an incredible tracker,” he admitted. “Once he turns…” He glanced at his watch and continued, “…in just a few minutes, he will follow your scents here.”
“But the ventilation system is mostly shut down,” Sylvia remarked, still breathing heavily from her efforts to free Kate. “How will he smell us?”
The blast of air from the hall wasn’t enough to make up for the lack of oxygen in the room. Kate’s head grew lighter. Or maybe that was just exhaustion coming over her; instead of sleeping she had spent most of the previous night and day trying to escape the ropes Sylvia had made short work of.
“Once I turn, I will begin to spill your blood,” Stefan matter-of-factly informed them.
Kate glanced at Sylvia, whose eyes had widened with the same fear that gripped her—nearly paralyzing her. She forced herself to move, just inching closer to that gun. But she was also inching closer to the madman who spoke calmly of killing her.
“Blood is the strongest scent to track,” Stefan said. “He will find you easily when you’re dead.”
“What are you going to do when he gets here?” Kate asked. She waited for him to reach for her gun.
But instead he patted his jacket. “I am armed. With the very gun that killed the father, I will kill the sons. My brother thought his boys were so clever, so far superior to my sons.”
“You have sons of your own?” Kate asked, trying to keep him talking. Trying to keep him from killing…
“I had sons of my own,” he replied. “Until my brother deemed them unfit for the pack and ordered their deaths.”
Kate gasped over the actions of Warrick’s father. No wonder he had never spoken of him with much love—just respect and fear.
“They were murderers,” Sylvia explained. “They killed innocent humans.”
Stefan snorted. “There are no such things as innocent humans.”
“Kate is innocent,” Sylvia insisted. “She has nothing to do with the pack. You should let her go.”
“She knows about the pack,” Stefan said. “You are new to it, but you are aware of the laws of it. Once she learned of our existence, we can’t let her live.”
