by Olivia Arran
Well, shit. That didn’t sound good. Worry kicked into overdrive at the thought of Grant out there. And Kel. And Daryl. All people I cared about, all at the mercy of a crackpot with a gun.
I turned back to see that Don had ducked into the SUV and was crouched with Chris, both of them looking freaked out. Tonight had messed with everyone’s heads; I could only hope we all got out alive to thrash it all out.
“Who’s got the keys to the SUV?”
I gave Talon a look; I knew exactly why he was asking. “Me, and we’re not leaving until everyone’s here.”
“Good.”
I edged toward the corner, trying to peek around. A hand yanked me back, a bullet skimming where my head had just been. “Thanks.”
“Grant will be back soon. He’s got them behind the shield and he’s trying to convince Daryl to move.” Ridge tapped his ear and I noticed the tiny earbud for the first time.
He’s okay. He’s fine. Just breathe.
“Okay. Shit, where’s Sarah?” She should have been over here by now.
Talon chuckled, the sound so out of place in this screwed up nightmare of a situation, I poked at my ears to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. “Look up.” He jerked his head to the roof of the building we were parked next to.
On the roof sat a huge silver dragon, his wings stretched out forming a large arc. His scaly head whipped back and forth, fire streaming out of his snout in thick plumes.
How did I miss the damn dragon? My second thought was ‘oooh, sparkly.’ Both thoughts had me questioning my sanity.
“He’s protecting Sarah, she’s behind his wings.”
“The bullets can’t hurt him?”
“I don’t think much can hurt a dragon.” Talon coughed into his hand, curling his lip. “But don’t ever repeat that in front of him, his ego is big enough already.”
“We need to get Sarah down here so Dante can go after the shooter.”
Ridge and Talon exchanged a look, then Talon winced, “Dante lost his earpiece when he shifted and his dragon is kind of in charge right now.”
“What do you mean he’s in charge? When Grant or Daryl shift, their wolves are still them.”
“Dante’s acting on instinct,” Ridge explained. Vaguely.
“Instinct he’s been suppressing.” Talon added. Even more vague.
Helpful, not.
I looked up, wondering if Sarah would be able to hear me from down here.
“Your friend is fine.” Talon tapped his ear, presumably referring to his extra sensitive hearing since Dante was without an ear bud. “She’s giving him hell, cussing him out like a sailor.”
Ridge sniggered, which made me blink at him. It was like they came alive in fucked up situations, chatting away merrily. “She’s got an imaginative repertoire.”
Well, that was good news. At least she wasn’t having a flashback.
“Incoming!”
Seconds after we’d scrambled back as far as we could, Grant skidded around the corner, the tailgate of the SUV braced behind him while he dragged Kel under his arm, who he laid down gently before rushing straight back out.
I fell on Kel, searching for his wound. There. His shoulder. I prodded—through and through.
“Easy there!” Kel’s voice was thready, but his eyes were now open. Okay, barely more than slits, but I’d take it. When I threw my arms around him, he grunted, but managed to cling on with his good arm, patting me on the back. “The damn wolf wouldn’t get off me.”
I pulled back. “Wait, were those claw marks all over Grant’s arms?”
Talon nodded, letting out a low whistle. “Teeth marks, too.”
“Huh?”
Any answer I might have gotten to my eloquent question was lost when Grant reappeared, this time dragging a huge black wolf with him. “Get in the SUV and start it up, we need to move, now!” he shouted, voice threaded with panic. “Daryl won’t wake up.”
Chapter Seventeen
Grant
White washed walls surrounded me, the astringent bite of bleach and antiseptic filling my nose and lungs with every breath. Beyond the walls of the cramped waiting room, people crowded around, some wailing with despair. Some barked out orders—their belief in their ability to disrupt Fate’s plan suffusing their voices with a steely determination that encouraged people to believe in miracles. Others were silent, their voices fading as they fought to stay in this world.
My head hung as I ground my teeth against the influx of sensory overload.
I hated hospitals. Human ones especially, with their air-fresheners and cleaning sprays.
“Hey.” A disposable cup of coffee appeared under my nose, bringing with it the bitter scent of chemicals masquerading as a drink, though I still accepted it, bringing it to my lips and enjoying the sting as the liquid burned a path down my throat.
“Thanks.” I didn’t look up, but I could feel her eyes on me, studying me with a sympathy I wasn’t sure I deserved.
Mandy’s hand landed on my arm. “Kel’s doing a lot better.” Thanks to you. She didn’t say it, had already voiced those words a hundred times in the few hours we’d been here.
“I should go see Daryl.” Crumpling the now empty cup, I carried it to the trash can.
She followed me out into the corridor, her footsteps quiet as she kept pace beside me. “The Chief is on his way here. He’ll want a full de-brief, now that Kel is awake and coherent.”
I nodded, because what could I say? I’d spent the last few hours trying to figure out where the hell we’d gone wrong. How we could have done things differently, changed the outcome. I still didn’t have a clue what to think, we hadn’t come away from this shitstorm with any answers, just a hell of a lot more questions. Questions that wouldn’t leave me alone, drilling into my sleep deprived brain and twisting everything.
I scraped a hand over my chin, the recent caffeine jolt doing nothing to clear the fog that had settled in to stay. A couple more turns and we were at the entrance to a sealed off corridor, slotted in at the back of the building with what looked like some industrial duct tape and a smudge of concrete, completely isolated from the main hospital.
Yep. The shifter wing.
I didn’t have to press the buzzer, the door clicking open as security behind the desk recognized me from earlier.
Behind this door, the walls were still white, the air still stank of bleach and antiseptic, but there was also an underlying scent that lingered. An earthy smell, reminiscent of majestic forests or wildflower meadows. A crisp freshness that reminded me of a vast open sky or an icy winter morning.
It was the scent of home. The scent of my people.
Only one room held an occupant. Pushing open the door, I strode in, ignoring the hospital staff who hovered around the bed, their mask covered faces obscuring their features and bootie covered feet swishing across the floor as they moved out of my way.
“Any change?” I didn’t recognize my own voice. I directed my question at Dante, who was reclining in a chair out of the way. His shirt was wrinkled and jaw dark with stubble, hair mussed from running his hands through it. Dark circles clung to his eyes as he surveyed the room, keeping watch and guarding our friend.
Gone was the self-assured, conceited asshole and in its place was a man who could possibly be called a friend. On arrival in this hellhole of a hospital, Dante had stepped up and made things happen. Talk of refusing treatment had been squashed with a single look, an eye-watering amount of money had been casually thrown into the ring, and suddenly the hospital was more than okay to admit a shifter who wouldn’t change back to human.
So, yeah, maybe Dante was okay.
On the bed, Daryl rested in his wolf form, the slight rise and fall of his chest reassuring me that he was still alive. A wave of inadequacy washed over me. He still wasn’t healing, and I couldn’t do anything to help.
The hospital staff shuffled around us, exiting the room en mass, leaving Mandy the last human standing.
“Owen and
Bree are on their way.” I directed the comment at the bed, hoping that Daryl would show some sign of hearing me, but he didn’t move. “Emma’s coming, too.” Emma was Heartsridge’s doctor and had not so long ago been human herself. Now she was a bear shifter and ran our hospital, not that it received a lot of patients.
“Is she bringing her hovering furball with her?” Dante’s attempt at his usual sarcasm fell flat.
“Yeah, Brent’s tagging along.” Brent, one of South-One team’s bear shifters was happily mated with Emma and it would take hell freezing over before he let her out of his sight. Especially not outside the safety of Heartsridge’s border.
Mandy had stayed silent while we talked, her expressive face filled with sadness as she looked at Daryl.
“Hopefully Owen will be able to force Daryl to shift so Emma can work on him.”
She glanced up at me, her eyes brightening. “But why won’t he shift on his own?”
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I wish I knew.”
Dante shifted in his seat, swiping a hand through his hair. “We will make him shift and the lovely Emma will fix him.”
We?
Dante arched a brow, looking more like his usual self. “I will lend your alpha my power.” He chuckled at my shocked expression. “It hasn’t been done in a long time and never between wolves and dragons, but it can be done.”
Well … shit. I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”
He waved a hand in the air. “Heartsridge is my home.” And Daryl is one of our own, went unsaid. “He’s grown slightly less annoying and it would be a waste to see him die. Especially at the hands of the Purists.”
“How did the Purists know about the meet?” Mandy asked me.
I was caught up in trying to keep the half-truths and misdirections clear in my mind when Dante answered for me, “Is it time for our meeting with your Chief of Police?”
Mandy narrowed her eyes, then checked her watch. “Yep. Let’s get someone in here to monitor—”
My phone buzzed and I read the message. “Owen and the gang are on their way up.” I put my phone away. “Let’s meet them outside, then we can go to this meeting.” I took one last look at Daryl before bracing myself and walking out of the room.
Owen tightened his grip on Bree, who had an arm tucked around his waist, sparks flashing in her eyes. “Go finish it. Do whatever you need to do to find out who is behind this.”
“And then I’ll barbecue them,” Bree spat out.
“Little dragonette, we will barbecue them together.” Dante grinned at his fellow dragon, both flashing teeth as they planned their revenge.
“No barbecuing,” Owen instructed on a sigh. “The Shifter Council will be watching closely. Especially once we have a name.” His mouth was moving, the right words coming out, but his eyes told a different story. He was completely on board with a little vigilante justice.
“We’ll see,” was all Bree said, stroking his arm.
Emma and Brent had gone straight in to see Daryl, Emma barely acknowledging the rest of us, already in doctor mode.
“Right.” Owen pulled himself up to his full height, his power crackling along the edge of my skin as he stretched it out, in preparation for what he was about to do. “Leave Daryl with us.”
Dante nodded, as if granting the alpha wolf his permission. “If you need my assistance…”
“I’ll let you know.” Owen had managed to hide his shock at what Dante had offered. Bree, on the other hand, had offered Dante a fist bump.
He’d given her a bemused look before shaking her fist.
I’d almost choked, trying not to laugh. He had to be kidding around. Right?
“The Chief is here.” Mandy indicated the corridor that led to Kel’s wing and we said our goodbyes, following her through the twisty turns until we arrived at the small conference room that had been turned over to us for our use, close enough that Kel could be wheeled in to attend the meeting.
Inside, the room was packed, Talon and Ridge already present, having been tasked to continue with the mission and keep an eye on the squad. Kel hunched in a wheelchair, his large frame draped in a hospital gown and a scowl on his face. He looked pale, but alive, which was all that mattered in the grand scheme of things. A bandage peeked out of his sleeve and tubes snaked out of his hand. Next to him, Sarah steadied an IV pole between fussing with Kel’s blankets, which he kept shrugging off. “I’m fine.”
“You were shot.” Sarah glared at him until he relented, letting her tuck the blanket around his legs, until he resembled a burrito.
Chris and Don sat at the small round table, empty coffee cups discarded in front of them while they picked at the remains of a several sandwiches.
The other man in the room, I didn’t know, which meant he had to be the Chief of Police. Broad rather than tall, with salt and pepper hair and a bushy mustache which I presumed hid a top lip, he surveyed the room with a steady eye.
Introductions were made and we took a seat, Ridge and Talon choosing to stay where they were, propping up the back wall.
“I’m sorry to hear about your man,” the Chief offered with a sincerity that made me want to like the guy. Whether I trusted him, that was another matter entirely.
“Our alpha is with him.” As I offered the information, I scanned the faces in front of me, watching for a reaction. A mixture of surprise and relief reflected back at me, nothing that rang any alarm bells. Dammit. How the hell were we meant to catch this son-of-a-bitch? At first, when the whole squad had shown up, we’d presumed that meant they were all guilty.
Then Kel had been shot.
Talon and Ridge had argued that could have been a mistake, that he hadn’t been the target.
I wanted to believe differently, so for now, we were back to square one. No suspect.
We’d gone over and over everything that had happened. The bait—minutes from a meeting between Mayor Carter and Michael O’Casey, the once leader of the rogues and Brent’s brother, in which they discussed Michael meeting with a contact who worked in the human judicial system. The contact, codename Mr. Moonbeam, supposedly had the name of a city cop and proof that they were a purist sympathizer. The names of the five who had attended the bootcamp were given as proof from Mr. Moonbeam, with the confirmation that one of the five was the spy.
An identity for Mr. Moonbeam had been created, including text messages between himself and Michael.
Michael had received a text asking to rearrange the meeting, stating that Mr. Moonbeam needed more time to prepare the evidence.
Which could only have come from the person who was working for the purists.
It should have been enough to flush the dirty cop out of hiding. He or she should have gone to the meeting, expecting one man—a human—to show, and then we would have had a name.
Instead, the whole squad had shown up.
It fucking hurt my head just thinking about it.
The Chief turned his attention to Kel. “Good to see you alive.”
Kel snorted. “It’ll take more than a bullet from a coward to take me out.” He adjusted his blanket, scowling at the material as if the beige personally offended him, before getting his temper under control and giving his report covering what had happened.
The Chief sat back in his chair. “I need the room cleared.” He turned to me. “Your team can stay. And you too, Lieutenant,” he added to Kel, who looked like he was going to argue the order anyway, if his grunt of agreement was anything to go by.
One by one, the rest of the humans filed out, Mandy giving me a look I wasn’t sure how to interpret. None of them looked happy to be excluded.
Once the door was shut, the Chief turned his attention to me. “Why were you there?”
“They obviously followed us,” Kel barked out, silencing under the Chief’s glare.
The Chief wasn’t my alpha, so I didn’t have to answer his question. Bracing my elbows on the table, I stared at him. “If you want us to work together, then you need to ex
plain what the hell is going on. Why was Kel’s squad there?” Arching an eyebrow at him, I continued, “Trust goes both ways.”
The Chief blew out a breath, glancing at Kel, who shrugged. “Okay, but what I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room.”
“I will report back to my Alpha and to Mayor Carter.” I wasn’t in the mood to play by their rules, not when Daryl was lying in a hospital bed.
A grunt, then, “Agreed.” The Chief nodded at Kel, who took over. “Two weeks ago we discovered a leak in the department. Someone had created a backdoor into our system and was stealing information, accessing files. We also discovered traces of tampering.” He paused, scratching at his bandage, a frown on his face. “We shut it down, of course, and have been conducting an internal investigation, both to catch the culprit and work out what they were doing in our system.”
I kept my expression impassive, even as my mind reeled at the coincidence. “What do you think they were doing?”
“Trace points to covering up crimes, erasing evidence, altering statements.” Kel kept his voice even, but couldn’t hide the underlying disgust in his tone.
“What kind of crimes?” Though, I already had a good idea.
“The cases that we’ve managed to identify that might have been tampered with are all ones that the original beat cops identified as having possible shifter interference.”
Bingo. The dirty cop was covering the Purists’ tracks, using his connection with the department to hide their crimes.
The Chief all but snarled, his mustache quivering as he cursed up a blue streak. “Unforgivable. And the person will be caught and dealt with.” He nodded at Kel, who straightened in his wheelchair at the unspoken order. Turning back to me, he laid his hands on the table, as if fighting for calm. “Now, tell me why you were there.”
“It would be helpful to know how you came to be there, first of all.” When it looked like he would object, I held out my hand. “Trust me, it’s connected to what I have to share with you.”
