by Abby Niles
Easier said than done. He also had a beast with its own emotions to deal with.
He kissed her gently on the lips, then rested his forehead against hers. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
Stepping back, she tilted her chin up. He grabbed a spritz bottle he’d filled with propane earlier back at his cabin, and saturated her clothes with the stinking liquid, then his own. The more scent camouflage they had, the better. With the kidnappers keeping their scents masked as well, the chemical should meld with the existing stench already cloaking the air, keeping him and Val undetected.
He put the spritzer on the coffee table. “Let’s get this over with.”
An hour later, they’d hiked about three-quarters of the way to their destination, and Val had filled him in on the files, giving him the important details he needed to know to make this takedown work.
The five people who had abducted Charlie were all a part of MASK. There was a young mated couple, Bobby and Annie Silver. From the file, they were not connected to a mutated child, but had a long history of jumping on any political bandwagon that was against the High Council. They had multiple prior arrests for protests that had become violent, but nothing to the extent of this.
The other three were all related—a mother, father, and son. John and Emily Gragg were in their midfifties and had joined MASK about three months ago. Right around the same time their daughter, Rachel, and her mate had moved to Washington State. Britton had a feeling there was a baby hidden somewhere in the state’s rural mountain ranges. The brother, Randy Gragg, was in his early twenties and had worked at a body shop for last couple of years. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a Waltons-type family. If they had been, Britton and Val might have been able to negotiate. But each of the Graggs had been in and out of Kerker for crimes ranging from assault and battery, to possession of cocaine with the intent to sell, to petty theft.
They weren’t going to go down without a fight, so Val and Britton’s best bet was to get the situation handled as quickly as possible.
As they neared the cabin, the first hint of fresh-cut grass hit his nose. Until now, he hadn’t picked up any scents. Placing a finger to his lips as he glanced at Val, he slowed his pace. She nodded. He inhaled deeper, locating the sage and orchids. Closing his eyes, he concentrated hard, sifting through the propane smell that covered the area, finally catching the faintest whiff of the other three scents. Fuck.
“They’re not together,” he whispered.
“How far apart do you think they are?”
“The kid and the young couple are closest to us. The others, I would say, are fifty, sixty yards away.”
“Oh man, that’s too far.”
“They don’t sense our approach yet. You get the kid and the couple, and I’ll take the other group. Get into position. You’ll know when to move in.”
He loathed the idea of splitting up, but if they went after one group, the others would hear the commotion and escape. They would have to ambush both at the same time. At least this way, Val would be in less danger, which was enough for now.
When she started forward, he grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Stay. Alive.”
“You better do the same.”
Their gazes held for a brief moment before they reluctantly let go and started to creep in opposite directions. The distance between them had never felt greater…or more perilous.
Shaking off the ominous sensation, Britton concentrated on keeping his footsteps silent as he worked his way around the perimeter of the cabin. Val had been right—neither of them could worry about the other right now. They had to trust they each had their part in the takedown under control. If one of them made a rash decision based off emotion, both could wind up dead.
The suspects were smart. Splitting up made everything harder for Val and him. Clearly the kidnappers were expecting an ambush, and had prepared. Which was why Britton’s goal was to do this quickly. With three shifters, four if he counted Charlie, beasts were going to make an appearance.
When the scents spiked, Britton spotted his targets. He knelt behind a tree trunk, brought out the tranquilizer gun, and squinted through the scope, aiming between the son and the father. To somewhat even the playing field, he had to take one out now before they became aware of his presence. If things went the way he hoped, he’d get off both shots and this would be over before it had even begun. But this first shot was crucial. He’d need time to reload, which meant the shifter left standing would have time to react.
He focused the crosshairs on the son. The guy was built like a brick shit house and the young could be unpredictable. Britton reaimed at the father. About thirty pounds smaller than his boy, weaker probably, he would be easier to subdue—if his mate weren’t sitting right beside him. His protective instinct would roar forward, which made him a more formidable opponent than the young punk.
Britton squeezed the trigger and hit the father in the chest. The man jerked, looked down, and yanked the dart out before he rolled over and collapsed. The woman jumped to her feet, shaking him. “John! John!”
Britton leaned back against the trunk of the tree as he reloaded the gun. Intent on taking the son out, he came back around and aimed. The crosshair lined up in the middle of the son’s back. At the same time he squeezed the trigger, the son shifted. The dart missed.
A sudden scream came from Val’s area. And all hell broke loose.
…
Val lowered her tranquilizer gun, pulled out her service pistol, and crouch-ran from behind the tree. Keeping her gun trained on the trembling woman, Val knelt beside the unconscious shifter. The tranqs she’d used would be enough to keep him out for at least a couple of hours, but she couldn’t use a dart on the half shifter. The dose would kill her. Either way, the half shifter wasn’t a threat now.
Or so Val had thought. Two seconds later, the enraged mate screamed, an I’m-going-to-kill-you sound, and charged her. Val jumped up, fisting the gun in both hands. “Don’t make me shoot you. Do you want the first thing he feels when he wakes is the lack of you flowing in his blood?”
Her words had the intended effect. The woman froze. The good ol’ bond. Worked every time. The couple was fewsed. The shifter wouldn’t have awakened to darkness inside him as he would have if his mate hadn’t reciprocated the bond, but even a completed bond did change after the death of mate, and Val had no qualms about using that threat against mated criminals to keep their asses in line.
Motioning with her gun, she inched forward. “Turn around.”
The woman did as she was told, and Val snapped a cuff on one wrist and yanked her over to a tree. “Hug it.”
Giving Val a look that would’ve rendered her dead if looks could kill, she put both arms around the trunk and Val secured the cuff on the other wrist. Once she had both suspects detained, she finally allowed herself to look at the little boy, who was sitting against another tree, covered in dirt, but thankfully unhurt.
When she’d come upon the scene, the child had appeared so helpless and frightened that she’d wanted to rush to his side. She’d made herself cut off all those emotions and cautiously eliminated the threat surrounding the boy first.
“Are you the good guy?” he asked, gazing up at her with wide brown eyes. Her heart clenched at the sweet, innocent question.
“Yes.” Kneeling before him, she ran her hand over his hair. “I need you to listen to me, Charlie. There are still some bad guys out there.”
He brought his knees to his chest. “They said they’d take me to my mommy. They didn’t. They made me say bad things about my home. They wouldn’t give me dinner if I didn’t say bad things.” Tears slipped down the child’s cheeks. “Can I go home now?”
A burning sensation scorched the back of Val’s eyes and she blinked against it. “Soon. Just a little longer, okay? I have to take care of the bad guys first, and make sure they never make you say bad things again. But I need for you to hide first. Can you do that?”
The little boy nodded.
“If you see anyone, stay still. If they find you, scream, and I’ll come running,” she whispered.
Though she doubted she’d have to worry about that. She had a feeling there was a beast that would love to attack the people who’d traumatized its human. The fact that the kidnappers were still in one piece showed how many tranqs they’d gone through while they’d had Charlie.
Seeing she had this part of the situation under control, Val inched toward the cabin—just in time to see the other half shifter barrel out the woods on the far side.
“Freeze!” Val yelled, sprinting into the clearing.
The woman stumbled, lost her footing, and slammed into the ground.
“Hands on top of your head!” As the woman followed orders, Val ran over and braced her knee between her shoulder blades. Just as she had the secured the woman to the steel pipe of a rusted waterspout, a mountain lion and a jaguar came brawling out of the woods, all teeth and claws.
Val froze where she stood. She didn’t want to distract Britton…and she didn’t want the suspect to see her. Inching backward, she hid behind the rotted wood of the water basin. Raising the tranquilizer gun, she took aim. When the mountain lion whipped its head around and tried to take a bite out of Britton’s side, her heart jumped into her throat. But Britton evaded the attack and lunged on top of the animal.
Val held steady, waiting for an opening, but she could not get a good shot off without possibly hitting Britton. If she hit him first, she doubted she’d have time to reload before the mountain lion was on her. Then she would be SOL. What could she do?
If she gave away her location, the beast would consider her, as a half shifter, the weaker threat and charge to eliminate her first. She could shoot then, but the probability of miscalculating the animal’s speed was too great, and either he’d be on top of her before she even got the shot off, or he could make a sudden switch in direction and she would miss him completely. Both outcomes ended with the beast on top of her—and with his back to Britton.
A clean shot.
She had to trust that Britton understood her intention, and wouldn’t let his emotions cloud his judgment.
Still holding the tranquilizer gun in one hand, she pulled out her pistol with the other. Not that she had any intention of using it. The High Council wanted them all alive. Though shifters were hard to kill, they weren’t immortal. If she nicked an artery, the suspect could bleed out.
Taking a steadying breath, she leaped up from behind the basin, and yelled, “Freeze!”
Both beasts froze. Then the mountain lion caterwauled, spun, and charged her. Holding steady, she made herself wait until the shifter was practically on top of her before she tossed the tranq gun toward the jaguar. The next thing she felt was a Mack truck hitting her and sending her flying backward. She landed hard on her back, the air whooshing out of her lungs, as sharp teeth snapped at her face. She shoved against its muzzle and screamed. Then the animal’s body jerked and collapsed on top of her.
She pushed it off and rose on shaky legs. When she finally looked up, Britton was standing about twenty feet away, all color leached from his skin, his gun hanging limply in his hand. He blinked, staring at her, then he stumbled forward. The closer he came the faster he moved, and she was suddenly in his arms, crushed to his chest.
“What the fuck, Val? What the fuck?” It was all he said as his arms tightened around her even more.
“Sorry, I couldn’t get a clear shot.”
“I thought you were dead. Thought I’d shifted too late. Fuck, woman, don’t do that to me again.”
“It’s over now, Britton.”
A growl sounded to their right and he immediately went rigid against her. She glanced toward the trees. It was a wolf. The animal had its head lowered, teeth bared. Britton started to shove her behind him, but she shook her head, “Don’t.”
As she stepped out of his embrace, he grabbed her arm. “Val.”
“Shh. It’s okay.”
She went down on one knee and held out her hand. “Charlie. Come here.”
The wolf closed his mouth and stared at her for a moment before trotting over. She rubbed behind his ears. A wet tongue licked her cheek, then a moment later thin arms wrapped around her neck. She gathered the little boy in her embrace and stood, looking over at Britton.
Smiling through her tears, she told them both, “It’s over. Everything’s going to be okay now.”
Chapter Twelve
Everything wasn’t going to be okay.
Britton had called Harwood to let them know he and Val had found the child and captured the suspects. The High Council had two vans out to them in under a half hour, which hadn’t been surprising. Most likely they’d had the transports positioned nearby for hours.
One vehicle was to transport Charlie back to World Shifters, and the other to take the prisoners to appear before the High Council. Charlie had refused to let go of Val, so she rode with him to the compound and said she’d meet Britton at the council building for their debriefing.
But there hadn’t been a debriefing—at least not for him.
As soon as the van had pulled through the back gate of the High Council, six guards had exited the building. Four had flung open the back of the van and shepherded the prisoners in for arraignment. The other two had waited for Britton to get out of the passenger seat before escorting him inside and straight to a service elevator.
When the doors slid open to reveal the deep cherrywood of the High Council’s chambers, unease had immediately twisted his gut. As he was ushered to the lone chair positioned before the long table, he stared straight ahead, avoiding the gazes of the council members watching him march to his fate. He thought of Val and how he’d wished he’d taken the time to kiss her once more, no matter who had been standing around. Wished he’d gotten to feel his beast stir within him as he pressed his lips to hers one last time.
Damn. This was too soon.
The guards locked steel cuffs around his wrists and he tensed. Next his ankles were secured to the wooden chair. Growling, his beast paced, agitated, obviously knowing what was about to happen.
Britton had known it would end like this, but Val…she’d had so much faith in the High Council. This would be a devastating blow for her.
Or maybe not. All could still end well. He had to hold on to that possibility. He didn’t want to accept that the last time he held Val in his arms had been with terror in his heart.
Harwood cleared his throat. “Officer Townsend, we would like to express our gratitude for your help in quashing this threat to the shifter community. Now that we are once again at peace, it is time for you to return to your duties at the Carnal Ridge PD. In sixteen years, after you have fulfilled the entirety of your sentence, we shall reconvene here and you will be free to live out your remaining years as a shifter.”
Thanks a fucking lot.
He surveyed the ten faces before him. Other than Harwood, who held a resolute, superior posture, the other members were pensive and agitated, especially Seeder. The older man kept glancing down and shaking his head. The rest of the council didn’t seem to back the elder’s decision. Britton should feel some comfort in that. But it was resentment that clawed forward, that and fury, at their ability to just sit back and let it happen.
It was the way of the council, though, wasn’t it? The elder had the final say. A method that had worked fine until Harwood took the post. Maybe it wasn’t really Harwood, but the way the world had changed so much over the last fifty years. Hell, maybe it was a combination of both.
It really didn’t matter.
“You know how this goes, Townsend,” Harwood continued. “It will be instantaneous.”
Yeah, he knew that. Unlike when they’d given him his beast back and it’d taken hours and then days for his abilities to return slowly, bit by bit.
This time, he would walk out of the room human. Beastless.
Again.
Fuck.
“Whatever. Let’s get this over with,” he ground out.
Harwood nodded, and a councilman at the end of the table stood and approached Britton. After lifting his shirt, the councilman poked around Britton’s right side until he found a place between two ribs, and he inserted the needle.
And the agony began.
His beast yowled, jerking in desperation as the molten liquid spread from under Britton’s skin and penetrated deep. Clenching his eyes closed, he gritted his teeth against a bellow. A blaze of searing fire torched his side as his beast swiped its massive claws at his flesh, snapping and growling with bared teeth. Britton latched onto the arm of the chair, digging his nails into the wood as his body went rigid. Immobile, his beast attacked, snarled, gnashed, flaying his insides. Just as he reached the point where he was certain the animal would erupt through his skin leaving behind the carcass of his mangled body, all went still.
The agony lessened to a dull ache, then nothing, as if he hadn’t just had a part of himself ripped away. Gasping puffs of air into his lungs, he relaxed his body back against the chair.
His beast was quiet. No movement. No rumbles. Not even a flutter.
Gone.
And so was his chance of fewsing with Val. Would he ever get to?
Dea, please don’t take her away from me before I can.
He looked away from the council, refusing to let Harwood see the fucking tears, not wanting the bunch of bastards to see how unmanned he felt at this moment.
