by Jools Louise
“Found Jeremy,” Mick hissed through the comm. “He’s alive, but in a bad way. Beaten half to death. He’s in a stone-clad basement, which is why we missed him on the first sweep. I’ll carry him out with me to the egress point.”
“Affirmative,” John hissed back. “Jeremy’s alive,” he told Juliana, who seemed to deflate with relief. He caught her as her eyes rolled back in her head, and she fainted. “Yeah. I guess we get you out of here the hard way, then,” he grimaced, hauling her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift, then shinned up to the hayloft and out the hole in the roof.
Rafe was there to meet him. “Want to watch the show?” he asked, nodding at the confrontation below.
The Commander’s thugs surrounded a guy in a spiffy black suit who had an arrogant tilt to his chin, staring at his adversary through narrowed eyes. As the observers stared, a whole army of hyenas surrounded the militia group, moving silently, jaws gaping with menace.
“We should leave while we can,” John suggested softly. “No telling whether those boys are on our side or not.” He reminded his crew about Purdy and Clancy.
“Yeah, good call,” Rafe replied. “You get your sister to safety. I’ll stay and film this. See what goes down. I’ll haul ass if it gets tricky.” John nodded, leaving his friend to it. His sister needed medical attention.
* * * *
Ryder Black moved his elite squad into position, judging the combatants with a trained eye. He was there to ensure The Commander and his team didn’t leave alive. He’d had explicit instructions from the powers that be in Washington that this fuckwit was to be neutralized. He couldn’t think of a better end to a man who’d terrorized shifters for decades. He was glad Drew had alerted him to what The Commander was doing since he and Callahan had remained in town to guard Vince with Maizie. John and his crew were good, but Ryder wanted to provide backup in case everything went to shit. Which it often did. The Commander had become a liability and was no one to underestimate. After what Drew had shown him, it reinforced the decision to neutralize the bastard. And Ryder was ashamed he’d let the man go. He hadn’t realized just who he was dealing with.
“What do we do about the hyenas?” Rankin, a polar bear shifter recently returned from a mission to Russia, lay to Ryder’s left.
“They’re not our problem until they prove otherwise,” Ryder responded, although he’d like to take a few out. This particular hyena family was the bane of the East Coast. Especially to shifters in trouble. They ran drugs, guns, and sex shops. Once you got involved with these guys, it was nigh on impossible to leave unless in a body bag, dumped into the Hudson River. “Stay on point, guys. No collateral if we can help it. No sense in adding a mafia war to our troubles.”
“Yeah, that’d leave a mark,” Ice drawled, also fresh from the same mission as Rankin. “So, what do we do now? I really wanna shoot that big fucker right between the eyes.”
Dima, his mate, and an Arctic fox shifter, shot him a dry look. “Darling. You heard Ryder. Stealth. We’re plan B, not the main event. If our mafia friends get the upper hand, they’ll take care of The Commander. If it looks as though they’re about to make a deal and both go after Sage, I’ll bite their fucking ankles. Then you can shoot him between the eyes.”
Ryder rolled his eyes at the banter but bit back a smirk. Dima was a pistol. He’d survived for years in the wilds of Siberia due to Nikolai and Dimitri Petrovsky’s brutal reign of terror. Now mated and married to Ice, aka Viktor Petrovsky, he and his husband had an interesting relationship. Ice still thought he wore the pants, but it was clear that Dima ruled their little roost.
“If you don’t mind, chaps. I’ll give the order to bite and shoot,” he interjected, frowning.
“Can we hurry this up, though? I have a date tonight,” Rankin complained.
Ice chuckled softly. “Dude. Bryce doesn’t even know you like him. What makes you think he even wants to go out with you?”
“Dude, I sent him flowers,” Rankin replied smugly.
“Oh god,” Ryder groaned.
“What?” Rankin asked, grinning.
“How many did you send?” Dima queried, his amber eyes twinkling merrily.
“I sent a bunch for each week that I should have wooed him, and didn’t, to make up for lost time,” Ranking informed them, his coal dark eyes shining with amusement.
“Which is, what, about fifty bouquets?” Ice mocked, wincing.
“Yeah. I figure I should make a statement.”
“Geez. The man’s going to think you have screws loose,” Finn protested. Most of Ryder’s crew were ex-Special Forces soldiers and had known one another prior to arriving in Sage. Finn was one of Ryder’s first Warriors, having survived Fortress’s gentle touch for months before being rescued. Fortress was the British affiliate to Flashpoint.
“He’s going to think I’m in love,” Rankin retorted.
“Unless he’s allergic to flowers,” Albert, Finn’s mate pointed out, smirking at Rankin, whose face fell in dismay at the suggestion. “In which case, he may want to run a mile from you.”
Rankin shot Finn a dry look. “Did you have to bring this ray of sunshine along? He’s ruining my happy place.” Finn hadn’t wanted to leave his mate alone with all the trouble around, so Albert was along for the ride. Albert and Finn had met The Commander personally, so had a valid reason for wanting to see him dispatched.
“Heads up.” Ryder cut into the banter, watching the two groups. Hidden in the woods surrounding the ranch, they all viewed the hyenas moving in for the kill. The Commander shouted furiously and retrieved a device from his pocket. The tense stand-off ended abruptly as buildings erupted, exploding violently as The Commander hit the detonator. The percussion trembled like an earthquake. The Warriors, lying in wait, held position as they watched the scene unfold.
“Rafe!” Albert cried. Rafe had been on the stable roof.
“All clear,” came Rafe’s calm voice through the comm.
“Where are you?” Ryder asked tensely, then jumped when a large black jaguar dropped down beside him, grinning toothily, its dark eyes glinting with amusement.
“Geez, Rafe,” Ice grunted. “Warn a guy. I almost peed my pants,” he said, his hand over his heart.
Chuffing softly, Rafe remained in shifter form and nudged a small backpack toward Ryder.
“You got it all?”
Rafe shifted. “As much as I needed to. Before His Lordship went ballistic and blew everything to shit.”
The hyenas went on the attack, going for the militia group with ruthless efficiency. The Commander had run into the woods, with about four hyenas racing after him. Rafe shifted back and trailed after them, keeping low and slinking along with a deadly look on his face.
Ryder cursed and shifted into his jaguar form, loping after Rafe. He had the feeling that Rafe was about to take care of The Commander, for John’s sake as much as anything. He didn’t blame him, but fuck, there were hyenas everywhere. He wondered whether Rafe knew more about The Commander’s activities than anyone realized. Rafe had done wet work for the government. He was a truly dangerous man. And he could quite easily have come into contact with The Commander, without knowing the man’s history. The fact that the ex-Special Forces officer had hurt Rafe’s best friend wouldn’t go unchallenged. Rafe didn’t like loose ends.
The hyenas surrounded their prey, yipping and dancing menacingly, moving in closer all the time. Ryder caught up with Rafe, wanting to back the man up, but kept out of the way. It had been Ryder’s ultimate decision to release The Commander. Agreed by the townsfolk, to try to catch others in his network. He regretted it, given what he knew now. When would he learn? Sometimes, vermin just needed to be exterminated.
Before either of them could intercede, they saw a snow leopard dart forward, snarling viciously at the hyenas, warning them off. Unbelievably, they obeyed, backing away slightly, letting him through the cordon. Green eyes, cold as ice shards peered at The Commander, gazing into eyes the exact same shade.
“No, John,” Ryder whispered, then shifted to human form and strode closer. He was worried John would do something he would live to regret. The Commander was full of nasty tricks. Ryder had the feeling he’d run this way on purpose.
“Which of my little bastards are you?” The Commander taunted, curling his lip, clearly not afraid of his situation. The detonator was still in his fist.
John shifted, standing tall and proud, and stared at his biological father with a look that chilled Ryder to the core. This wasn’t the man Ryder had grown to consider one of his best friends. John was showing The Commander just what he was made of beneath the veneer of the laid-back, laconic Brit he portrayed to the world. Here was the beast within, ready to kill, his focus locked onto his prey. The Commander merely sneered, apparently too full of his own importance to realize his situation. To him, shifters were lacking intellect or backbone. He was about to find out just how wrong he was.
“I’m the bastard who sold you out to a shifter, one of those disgusting freaks you seem to hate so much,” John replied emotionlessly. “I’m the one who just removed twenty million dollars from your greedy fingers. I plan to donate it to a facility I’m sure will leave you turning in your grave for an eternity. Something new. The Shifter Welfare Society for disadvantaged shifter youth.” He smiled mercilessly, with zero humor. “You’ll be pleased to hear that your other little bastards are safe and well. Juliana sends her regards.” While he spoke, he stalked closer, inch by inch until he was within striking distance.
Ryder held his breath. He was witnessing John at his most lethal. The Commander was not going to leave this place in one piece. Rafe had moved in, as well, slinking in behind the unsuspecting fool who still didn’t recognize his own fate. Ryder had the feeling that Rafe and John had planned this to the nth degree. Allowing those buildings to blow up had been part of it. He should know better than to underestimate the Two Spirit Crew. They were masters at this game. Without them, Sage would not be standing now.
“That mouthy bitch has caused me no end of trouble.” The Commander snarled the words, his eyes glittering insanely. Ryder stared at John worriedly. His friend remained motionless. Ryder realized why when Rafe shifted but retained his claws. Rafe looked ready to deliver the killing blow if The Commander stepped out of line.
“Jeremy’s responding well to treatment,” John said as though discussing the weather. “He managed to shift, so he is healing well. That’s the beauty of being a shifter, Jethro. Something you’ll never know. We have the power to heal quickly. And we have no issue with dealing with people who hurt us. Is there anything you’d like to say before you retire, Jethro. That is your real name, isn’t it? You thought we’d be too stupid to find out your past, didn’t you?”
Ryder watched as a second snow leopard melted out of the undergrowth. He was mesmerized by the tableau. The Commander turned his attention to the second snow leopard, tilting his head arrogantly as the leopard shifted, revealing Jay, John’s twin brother. Jay’s expression mirrored John’s, his iridescent gaze shielding the turmoil that Ryder was sure lay behind it.
“I learned today that I had a brother and sister I knew nothing about,” Jay said quietly, studying The Commander intently. “When our mother was killed, I was split up from my family. I found them, a few years ago, after a cult used Jayne as a breeder. Forcing her to mate with men, to continue their disgusting experiments into shifter procreation. I found out about an hour ago, from a friend, that you were linked to that cult. And you’ve spearheaded many evil practices designed to cause pain to my people. Shifters.”
“What’s this? A bedtime story?” The Commander said sharply. “Spit it out, boy.”
Jay’s expression didn’t change, but his fingers sprouted claws. “You’re part of the group that killed my sister. You’re part of the group that killed my mother. You’ve taken from my family, hurt my family. You worked as an enforcer in England, propping up murderers like Aaron Fielding and Martin D’Arcy. And murdered so many yourself. You would have killed a little boy and his mother, for greed’s sake. Jethro Armitage, you talk about humans being a superior species, and yet you have so little humanity in you. Ironic, isn’t it? I’m so glad we don’t share the same name. That would be too much to bear.”
“What’s your point?” The Commander showed no remorse. To him, apparently, murder was just another day at the office. “I’ve spent my life dedicated to making sure our planet isn’t infested by the likes of you. I don’t consider it murder. Those freakish creatures are merely nature’s mistakes.”
“Your daughter was a mistake of nature?” John asked. “Jayne was someone you couldn’t control, wasn’t she? Like us. She escaped, didn’t she? She survived. And she bore two children, free from your despicable clutches. I’d be interested to know the whereabouts of any other offspring. She was at that breeding facility for some time, wasn’t she? I’m sure you know that.”
Jethro grimaced. “Those other brats didn’t survive,” he said disdainfully. “They were weak. Runts.”
Ryder felt sick to his stomach at the emotionless way the monster before him spoke about those children. His grandchildren. As though they were battery chickens or something.
“How many children did my sister have?” Jay asked bleakly.
“A dozen, perhaps more.” The Commander was nothing if not honest. Brutally so. Ryder could feel the change in atmosphere, the frost in the air growing ever colder. The man was about to die.
“And what about my own children? Were they weak, too, when you had them murdered?” The mafia boss entered the frame, strolling through the woods in an Armani suit, Gucci shoes, looking suave and well-shod…and out of place in this rustic setting. His face was ashen. Ryder imagined he’d been listening for some time.
The Commander sneered. “No. They were of no use, Gianluca,” he said. “Why feed them if they’re worthless? Two hyena shifters? Please. I had other important ventures to put my money into.”
John exchanged a glance with his brother and Rafe. Jay nodded, as did Rafe.
They all stepped back as the mafia don moved closer. “Worthless?” he asked mirthlessly. “They were infants. Little children. Five and seven years old. Of what use were they to anyone but their parents, who loved them dearly.”
Jethro remained silent, his expression devoid of compassion.
“And what of Daniel Steadman?” Gianluca asked. “What is your connection to him? He, also, has left scars on my family. Why work with a shifter if you hate them so much?”
The Commander appeared to consider his answer, which told Ryder there was much more to that relationship than Ryder had thought. Not just the money. He examined the man’s face intently. What was he hiding?
“Daniel has been useful to me,” The Commander admitted, eyes narrowed on Gianluca’s face. “He is no longer useful.”
John hissed, baring fangs. “You fucking coward,” he snarled angrily. “Daniel’s been working with you for years. It didn’t bother you he was a shifter when he was lining your pockets. Only when you realize that your connection to him will go badly for you. Even now, you’re planning to make a deal, aren’t you? Wondering if perhaps a hyena shifter who’s also a crime boss might be worthier of your exalted time. Fucking prick.”
Ryder relaxed slightly. John in this mood was marginally less intimidating. They were reeling Jethro fucking Armitage in like a kipper. Getting him to reveal far more than he probably wanted to. His body language, more than anything else, gave away his intentions. They needed more on Daniel Steadman. For everyone’s sake. Both he and The Commander were intertwined. Irreparably. But the confession they’d just heard had sealed his fate.
Then Ryder saw a change on the interrogators’ faces. And held his breath again.
“Wrong answer,” Gianluca said, baring fangs. “You murdered my children. You murdered their mother,” he bit out with a look at John and Jay. “You stole from me. Money that Daniel owes me. For looking after his interests. He showed his tr
ue colors by hurting his bambinos. I despise those who hurt their children.” His gaze sharpened as he stared at John. “Purdy and Clancy got what they deserved. They went after their own family. Intolerable. Family is everything. I won’t hold that against you or anyone else in town.” John nodded in acknowledgment.
“We have what we need,” John told Gianluca. “He’s all yours.”
Gianluca inclined his head graciously. “You are a gentleman, John Hastings.”
John smirked, his eyes lightening with his usual snarky humor. “It’s been said,” he retorted, shaking Gianluca’s hand. “And, no offense, but I’d rather not see you again too soon. It never ends well.”
Gianluca smiled back, gesturing for his pack to close in. Two dozen hyenas surrounded the group now, leaving the undergrowth where they’d been hidden. Ryder had been so intent, he had barely noticed how many there were.
“Ciao, Johnny. Go see to your family. I will see to this garbage.”
He clicked his fingers, and the hyenas moved in, leaping at The Commander before he could react, the detonator falling from his fingers as one hyena, a female, tore at his throat, its powerful jaws ripping into flesh and bone.
“My wife,” Gianluca said. “She was happy to meet the man responsible for hurting her babies. I promised her first blood.”
They all watched as Jethro Armitage was literally shredded where fell. Ryder shifted back to his feline form, chuffing softly. He turned and saw his Warriors behind him, silently observing The Commander’s demise. He met Albert’s eyes. “He was evil,” Albert said. “Cast from the same mold as Sir Aaron and Martin D’Arcy. I’m happy he’s dead.”
“Now to get rid of Daniel,” Ice added grimly. “That bastard’s as bad as Dimitri was in Russia. A giant spider, spinning his web, and trapping the unwary.”
“That’ll be Sherman and Drew’s call,” Ryder told them. “They have the right. And Kathleen.”
