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by T. E. Ridener


  You son of a bitch, Dimitri growled inwardly as he kept his hand firmly over his mouth and nose. Of course Breslin would come up with a way to prevent them from being found. It wasn’t good enough that he killed one of the ursithropes, but now he had to keep their scents masked with chemicals to refute rescue attempts, too?

  “Pick up the pace,” Luke demanded as he gave Dimitri a hard shove.

  Dimitri stumbled forward, his bad foot hitting the floor as he groaned. If only he could heal. Why wasn’t he healing?

  “The boss wants to see you,” Luke stated in a sing-song voice. “We figured it was only right to give you a chance to redeem yourself before figuring out how to punish you,” his lips were close to Dimitri’s ear as he lowered his voice. “However, I would’ve killed you without hesitation for your defiance. You’re an ungrateful little cockroach, you know that? Breslin took you in when you were nothing more than a pathetic little orphan pup. This is how you repay him?”

  Dimitri didn’t get the chance to reply as another door opened and he was pushed inside. He fell to his knees, grateful that the weight was taken off his foot as he pressed his palms against the floor. The scent of ammonia disappeared as the door closed with a loud thud.

  All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing at that moment. His lungs still ached from the ammonia intake, and each breath he drew in was painful and raw. He swallowed hard, trying to wet his dry throat as he lifted his eyes to gaze at his surroundings. This room didn’t look entirely too different from the one he’d been in previously, but it still didn’t seem familiar.

  “Dimitri, Dimitri, Dimitri.”

  The blood in his veins chilled instantly as Breslin’s voice reached his ears. He swallowed hard and lifted his head to stare at the massive alpha towering over him. Breslin cocked his head to the side, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth before heaving a loud sigh.

  “I am so disappointed in you,” Breslin said after a moment. He crouched down before him, clasping his fingers together as his brows furrowed. “I took you in, Dimitri. I gave you shelter and food; I taught you everything you know today, and this is how you repay me?”

  His body still wasn’t up to par. Dimitri felt like he was completely detached from his powers and strength as his hands trembled to their own accord. The muscles beneath his taunt skin quivered and tensed as he kept his eyes on Breslin’s. He knew how Breslin operated. The man liked eye contact and if his opponent looked away, it was a sign of weakness.

  Dimitri may have been weak physically at the moment, but his mentality was fully intact.

  “You speak when I say something to you,” Breslin growled. He reached out, his fingers tangling into Dimitri’s auburn locks as he pulled him up from the floor.

  Dimitri grunted, clenching his teeth as he tried to stand. He had no choice but to put weight on his bad ankle and the agonizing pain surging through his leg caused perspiration to break out on his forehead. He wouldn’t let Breslin win this. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he could hurt him.

  “So that’s how you’re going to be, huh?” Breslin asked hoarsely. His claws dug into Dimitri’s scalp as he released a frustrated grunt and shoved him back to the floor. “You disgust me,” he barked. “Rolling around in the leaves with one of them. I gave you an order and you deliberately defied me.”

  Dimitri paced his breathing, his eyes closing as he rested his forehead against the cool concrete. His ankle was throbbing and his chest was tightening. Was he afraid? Oddly not. He probably should’ve been, but what else did he have to fear? The one thing he didn’t want to lose had been torn from him already…..

  “I’ve given a considerable amount of thought to how you should be punished,” Breslin whispered as he crouched down beside of him once more. “And I have made my decision.”

  Dimitri’s eyes flicked upwards and his gaze hardened as he stared at the other wolf. He licked his lips, curling his upper lip as he bared the fangs attempting to elongate. Damn it, if only his powers were at their full capabilities.

  “Dimitri Fridolf, I sentence you to death,” Breslin hissed, a menacing grin appearing on his lips as he straightened up once again. “When the sun goes down, you’ll be taken into the woods,” he stroked his chin. “I’m thinking you should die in the very same spot as your beloved. Of course, I don’t know if I want to use the same method….”

  Something snapped inside of Dimitri as he listened to the amusement in Breslin’s voice. He took Liam’s death as a joke, and Dimitri didn’t find a damn thing about it to be funny. He pushed himself up from the concrete, releasing a loud roar of anger as he tackled the alpha against the floor.

  Perhaps it was only a second, or maybe a minute longer, but Dimitri released every ounce of anger, heartache, and rage upon the other wolf as his fists pummeled his face. He didn’t care about the blood gushing from Breslin’s nose, and the gash above the man’s forehead wouldn’t be satisfactory; but damn it, the day had finally come that Dimitri would make him pay for what he did to Liam. Today, he would kill Breslin Connor.

  Two pairs of strong hands pulled him away from the other male, and Dimitri growled in frustration. He fought against the two wolves trying to restrain him.

  “No!” Dimitri screamed. “I’m not finished with you, you son of a bitch!”

  Breslin cackled as he stood once more, wiping at the blood currently pouring from his nose like a faucet.

  “We’re done here,” he said huskily, his eyes glowing in warning. “When the sun goes down, take him into the woods, and kill him. I don’t care how you do it; just make sure he’s dead.”

  Dimitri’s heavy panting was the only thing he could hear as he watched Breslin leave the room. He ignored the taunts of his pack mates.

  So I’m going to die, he thought as he lowered his gaze to the floor. I guess I’ll be seeing you soon, Liam.

  Three

  The silence was overwhelming. Mrs. Bamey wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

  The last week had been the worst yet; nearly as bad as when she received the news her first born was dead. In a way, they were in a close running for the most terrible things that had ever happened to her. Lorcan was missing. Presley was missing. That sweet boy Dimitri was missing. No, she couldn’t stand any of this for a moment longer.

  Richard insisted that she should stay home and continue about with her business as usual, but how in the hell did he expect her to cook and clean –two things she enjoyed doing-when her baby boy was somewhere out there, possibly being hurt at this very moment by those hideous monsters?

  And what about Presley? Poor, sweet Presley. She’d only just begun to understand the life of an ursithrope when she was thrust into this chaos. The poor dear would never recover from whatever brutal torture the fleabags were putting her through.

  How was she supposed to stay at home and do nothing when the people she cared about were in harm’s way?

  “Oh, damn it,” she sighed, tossing the damp dish rag into the sink. She leaned over the counter to peer out the window, watching as the sun lowered to meet the treetops. Nighttime would be upon them soon, and her husband was still out there with the other ursithropes. Their search for the trio had been ongoing for five days now, and hardly a break was taken. They couldn’t give up.

  She refused to give up hope. There was no way in all of tarnation that Urseth would allow this to happen to his people. They’d been created for a purpose, hadn’t they? Surely they were not made just to die at the hands of werewolves……

  The sound of brakes whining outside brought her out of her thoughts, and she moved into the living room so she could peer out the window above the couch. Only a few days ago, she was carelessly leaving her front door open to let a nice breeze inside; but who in their right mind would feel safe doing that with everything that was happening now?

  Mrs. Bamey’s brown hues watched the young man as he got out of his car. He approached the porch and she was already pulling the door open to
greet him.

  “I’ve already told the sheriff everything I know,” she stated in a tired voice. “You can go on back to the department now. There haven’t been any changes here, Officer.”

  She watched the young man as he took the steps at a leisurely pace. He didn’t seem as professional as the other fellows that had been filing in and out for days. Would Richard be angry with her for getting the sheriff involved? Quite possibly, but she did what she felt she had to do. They couldn’t even pick up on Lorcan’s scent-they needed help.

  “I’m not an officer, Mrs. B.,” he gave her a warm smile. “I just stopped by to visit, if that’s all right with you.”

  It didn’t take very long for Mrs. Bamey to realize the tall, muscular male before her wasn’t just any run-of-the-mill Joe; he was someone of great importance from the past. She could hardly believe it! Why, he’d grown so much-and it’d been so long since she’d seen him.

  “Rutley Holter,” she said softly, pushing open the screen door. She didn’t even hesitate as she wrapped her arms around his torso, hugging him tightly. “Oh, my word! Look at you. It’s been a mighty long time since I last saw you. Oh….” She lifted her hand, trying to comb out her unruly brown and gray locks as she frowned. “Oh, I look a mess right now!”

  She listened to the warm chuckle sounding from Rutley, and she couldn’t help but to laugh with him.

  “You look just fine, Mrs. B.,” Rutley nodded.

  “Well thank you, honey. You’re looking awful nice yourself. Come in, come in!”

  She moved back into the living room, allowing her son’s childhood friend to enter before she closed the door and hurried into the kitchen. “Do you still like chocolate milk?” She asked, opening the fridge door to peer inside.

  “Yes, ma’am, I do,” Rutley responded as he leaned against the doorframe and watched her. “But I didn’t come here just to get a glass of milk. I was hoping we could chat.”

  Mrs. Bamey slowly turned to face him, gripping the carton of milk rather tightly between her sweaty fingers as she swallowed the painful lump in her throat. “If this is about Liam…”

  “No,” Rutley shook his head gently, lifting his blue eyes to gaze at her again. “I’m very sorry to hear about that, by the way. Liam was a hell of a guy.”

  “Yes, he was,” Mrs. Bamey felt the burning sensation in her nostrils. The promise of tears wasn’t very far behind. She blinked rapidly and sighed, turning back to the counter to pour him a glass of milk. “Why did you come here then?” She asked, opening the cabinet door and reaching inside for the chocolate syrup. She was fairly certain that bottle hadn’t been touched since Liam’s last visit. He was the last person to hold it…

  “Mrs. Bamey?”

  “Huh?” She blinked, turning her head slightly to see Rutley standing beside her. His gaze was on the counter and a frown was etched on his face. She followed his gaze and realized she’d put too much chocolate syrup into the glass. “Oh! Oh, good heavens…I’m so sorry.”

  “Why don’t you come to the table and sit down?” Rutley asked as he gently gripped her elbow. “Come on. You look exhausted. When’s the last time you got any sleep?”

  “I can’t sleep,” she admitted sadly. “I haven’t slept since the night the wo—” she immediately cut herself off. No, that was too much information. There was no way, come hell or high water, that she would get a good boy like Rutley involved in this situation. It was bad enough she’d asked the sheriff for help, but to get his son involved? Absolutely not.

  “The what?” Rutley asked as he helped her ease down into the chair.

  “Nothing,” Mrs. Bamey shook her head. “I’m just tired, dear.”

  “Why don’t I make us some coffee?” Rutley asked, moving back to the counter as he rummaged through the cabinets. He glanced at her over his shoulder, giving another award winning smile as his blue eyes sparkled. “You take yours black, right?”

  “With honey,” she nodded. “I have to have the honey, dear.”

  “Right,” Rutley chuckled. He dumped a scoop of caffeine-promising goodness into a coffee filter before placing it into the pot, flipping the switch. He listened to the low gurgle of the machine as he turned back to face her again. “You always did like honey.”

  “Honey’s good for you,” Mrs. Bamey insisted as she gently massaged her temples with her fingertips. “It’s very healthy.”

  “I know it helps with colds,” Rutley agreed as he eased down into the chair across from her. He clasped his fingers together, resting his hands against the tabletop as his eyes met hers. “Mrs. Bamey, what happened to Lorcan?” He questioned. “Is there anything he’s done lately that could’ve prompted his disappearance? Has he been doing drugs?”

  Mrs. Bamey scowled. “Oh, heavens no! Lorcan? Doing drugs? Absolutely not.” She shook her head furiously as she muttered beneath her breath. “Not my boy. He’s a good boy. It’s nothing like that.”

  Rutley released a low breath, his brows lowering slightly upon his forehead as he tilted his head to the side. The way he looked at her made Mrs. Bamey very nervous.

  “You have to give me something to go on,” he said in a gentle tone. “I don’t like the idea of Lorcan missing any more than you do. I’m on your side, okay?”

  Mrs. Bamey fought to keep herself in check, unwilling to let her bottom lip quiver as she felt his warm hand rest atop of her own. She nodded and closed her eyes.

  Just breathe, she told herself. He only wants to help.

  “It’s all very complicated, Rutley,” she admitted after a time. “You have to understand that….things haven’t been easy for our family since Liam’s murder.”

  That statement seemingly caught Rutley’s interest. He straightened up in his seat, cocking his head to the opposite side as his lips parted. “You think Liam was murdered?”

  “I don’t think, sweetie; I know.”

  “But Mrs. Bamey, the official police report says he died from a mountain lion attack.”

  “I know what that silly thing says,” she huffed, frowning. “But you tell me the last time you saw a mountain lion in this part of Tennessee.”

  The seconds ticked by as they held one another’s gaze, and Mrs. Bamey wondered what in the world could be going through the young male’s head as he licked his lips. He blinked, and then finally turned his attention to the coffee pot. “How about that coffee?”

  Before she could say anything, he was up. His back was to her as he prepared two cups of coffee, stirring in a generous amount of honey for her as her mind reeled with how to explain the situation. She knew it wasn’t easy for the sheriff to piece things together if she wasn’t even giving him the right information, but there was one small problem; she couldn’t tell him the truth. It was Urseth’s law. To tell a human about their existence would result in her death, as well as Sheriff Holter’s. She couldn’t risk that.

  “Here you go,” Rutley stated softly as he placed the steaming mug of coffee before her. The cup was one that Liam and Lorcan had given her for Mother’s Day many moons ago. The letters were nearly faded from so many washes; she did use it a lot.

  #1 Mom stared back at her as her lower lip quivered again.

  “Tell me what happened on the night they disappeared,” Rutley requested as he lifted his own cup to his lips for a sip. “Where did they go? What were they doing?”

  Mrs. Bamey sighed, gripping the warmed porcelain between her trembling fingers as she took a cautious sip. Her eyes met Rutley’s as she tried to think of a suitable answer.

  “I don’t really remember….” She lied, taking another drink before tracing her tongue over her lips. “It’s a bit blurry for me.”

  “That’s okay,” Rutley smiled. “I’ve got all evening, Mrs. B.”

  Her mind reeled with various answers as she emptied her cup gradually, shaking her head as the warmth radiated through her entire frame. “They were coming.”

  “Who was coming?” Rutley asked as he rested his elbows upon the table top, stari
ng at her intently. “Who was it, Mrs. B.?”

  Mrs. Bamey blinked again, frowning. She felt strange. Her body was humming with warmth and content, and her mind felt as if water had flooded her head. Was it possible for her brain to be floating around in her skull?

  “The…” No, she couldn’t say that, could she? She wasn’t supposed to. She wasn’t allowed to talk about that, yet she was finding it incredibly difficult not to tell him. “What did you put in my coffee, Rutley?”

  She met his gaze again, and it was only then that she realized how blurry his handsome face was getting. She blinked once, twice, and then let out a small cry of fright.

  “It’s all right, Mrs. B.,” he said in that same, soft voice. “It’s only going to help you relax. It won’t hurt you, I promise. Neither will I.”

  Mrs. Bamey shook her head, but quickly realized that that was a bad idea, too. The room was spinning. Everything felt off balance as she reached her hand out to grip the edge of the table. “I can’t…”

  “Yes, you can,” Rutley assured her. He was standing by her then, his palm pressed flat against the table top as he leaned down to be at eye level with her. “Who took Lorcan and the others?”

  “I can’t tell you,” she sobbed. “Please don’t make me do that, Rutley.”

  “Mrs. Bamey, please. I just want to help.”

  “I…” her chest felt like it was tightening up as she closed her eyes. A tear escaped from between her thick lashes, falling down her cheek. “You don’t understand.”

  “Help me to understand,” Rutley pleaded. “I want to find them before it’s too late. We’re running out of time, Mrs. Bamey,” he sighed. “Just tell me yes or no; do you know who took your son?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it the same person who killed Liam?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are they human?”

  “No.”

  “Are they werewolves?”

 

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