Sanctuary's Price: Red Rock Pass, Book 3

by Moira Rogers

  It was either a test, or Adam Dubois wasn’t quite the friend Gavin had made him out to be. She couldn’t stop the ice that slid into her voice. “Sam. Her name is Samantha.”

  “He knows,” Dylan said quietly. “He doesn’t trust us. And neither does the werewolf hiding behind the door.”

  Surprise flashed through Adam’s eyes, then he smiled wryly. “I bet people underestimate you a lot, don’t they?”

  Dylan stepped to the side, but rested his hand protectively on Sasha’s arm. “I’m Dylan. This is Sasha. We came with one of Gavin’s enforcers.”

  “Keith?”

  “Joe.”

  Adam nodded and pulled open the door. “Then I guess you’d best come in.”

  The interior of the cabin was dark and cool. Once her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could see that the front room was filled with beautiful wood furniture that looked handmade. Judging from the sharp and gleaming but well-used axe by the door, it very well could have been.

  Their host pushed the door shut and bolted it before holding out a hand. “Dylan and Sasha from Red Rock, meet Ethan. Of the Bedagi Creek pack.”

  The man against the wall was young but obviously stressed, with new lines creased around his eyes and mouth. “Friends, Adam?”

  “We can hope.” Adam crossed his arms across his chest, and the worn flannel shirt strained over shoulders so muscled they were intimidating. “They came from Red Rock.”

  “I heard,” he murmured. “Gavin’s place.” He stepped away from the wall, out of the deeper shadows, and swayed as Sasha studied him. His eyelids drooped as if he was sleepy, and he shivered.

  “Gavin was worried.” Dylan’s voice sounded quiet. Tense. “He had reason to be, didn’t he?”

  “I can do it,” Ethan insisted. “Lawrence knows it too. He’s too weak to protect the pack, but I can do it.”

  He was sick. Sasha took a step toward him and lifted the back of her hand to his cheek. Far from the warmth of fever she expected, his skin was cold, almost clammy. “They’ve done something to him, haven’t they?”

  “Poison. One of the Bangor vampires probably helped. The Bangor alpha’s been buying up Lawrence’s power, bit by bit.”

  She dropped her hand to Ethan’s chest. “How long ago?”

  His answer was weak, and too long in coming. “Three days.”

  His heart beat under her palm, faint and too slow. “I don’t know of any poisons that can affect a werewolf for so long.”

  Adam laughed harshly. “Vampire blood.”

  Shock coursed through her. It was death magic, the kind she couldn’t believe another wolf would have a part in. She tugged down his collar and lifted his sleeves, searching for the punctures of teeth marks. “Did they drink from him, or just slip him the blood?”

  “Just the blood.”

  Dylan’s fingers brushed over her shoulder. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

  She glanced at him, unwilling to voice the words. He’s going to die. “Like he said, poison. There are some things I can do, but not—not much.”

  “What if I help?”

  Ethan swayed and almost tipped over. They caught him and helped him to a nearby bench. “It’s not magic, Dylan. Not this time. I can do a cleansing, but it’s mostly just herbal remedies and waiting.”

  Adam strode past them toward a small, neat kitchen and slammed a pot onto an old-fashioned stove. “Stubborn bastard won’t let me take him to someone who can help.”

  Sasha rose and joined Adam in the kitchen, careful to keep her voice low, though she doubted Ethan could hear her. “If you know someone, you should do it anyway. I haven’t completed my training.”

  “He won’t go.” Adam braced his hands on the counter and closed his eyes. “They have his mate in town. They’re probably going to keep her hidden and play nice until Joe leaves, though, because Lawrence can’t risk pissing off Gavin.”

  “If you know Gavin, you can’t have any doubt that this will piss him off all by itself.” Then his words registered, and Sasha felt faint. “Joe and Brynn. Irene told us where to find you. Lawrence must know that you’d tell us what he’s done.”

  “Lawrence doesn’t think I know what happened.”

  “Are you sure?” The tension was back in Dylan’s voice as he crossed the room to stand next to them. “Haven’t they come here to look for him?”

  “No.” Adam bared sharp, vicious fangs. “No one from the pack has the guts to come out here but Ethan and Emily. If Lawrence suddenly showed up here looking for Ethan, I’d know something was wrong. And Lawrence is scared shitless of me.”

  Even with the vampire’s relatively easygoing manner, Sasha could understand why. “What is Lawrence doing? It can’t be as simple as dirtying things up to avoid a fair challenge because he isn’t ready to retire.”

  Dylan leaned against the counter and closed his eyes. “Things are hard. There aren’t many jobs. People get hungry. Hungry werewolves are dangerous, and the alpha needs to protect his people. Then a wolf shows up in town and says maybe there’s a little extra in the city this year. Maybe they can help out. It’s the least they can do.”

  Adam swore. “How do you—”

  “It’s a gift the first time,” Dylan continued, as if Adam hadn’t spoken. “The next time they need some help. Labor in return for food. Young men who can help out for a few weeks. Then a few months. Then they come back and this time they want the women.” Dylan opened his eyes and met Sasha’s gaze. “Why do you think we got jumped in that little town? This happens all the time. Alan took over four packs in the last decade like that. Why waste energy fighting when life is so hard for wolves in the small towns that they’ll come to you eventually?”

  Sasha’s heart ached for the realities of Dylan’s life, and for what the people of Bedagi Creek faced. “Will Ethan stop that? Is that what he meant when he said he could protect the pack?”

  Dylan looked at Ethan, who had slumped over on the bench. “Maybe. Sometimes all it takes is one person strong enough to say no.” The pain in his eyes made it clear that more often that person wasn’t enough.

  She gripped Dylan’s hand and kissed his shoulder. “We can help. We’ll start with Ethan.”

  Adam cleared his throat. Loudly. “I’ve been out of the world longer than I thought. When did wolves and wizards start kissing?”

  “They haven’t,” Sasha said shortly. “I saw your roses outside. Any chance you have a decent herb garden?”

  “Enough of one, if you don’t need anything exotic.”

  “Not really.” She gestured to the back door, and he nodded. “Put Ethan on the floor and get his shirt off, Dylan. I’ll take a look at the garden and grab the first aid bag from the Blazer.”

  Dylan hesitated for several heartbeats before nodding. “Be careful.”

  “Simmer down, junior. No one’s going to attack her in my backyard.”

  For a second she thought Dylan was going to growl at Adam. Then he bared his teeth in something that could have been a grin—or a challenge. “Sasha can take care of herself.”

  “Most witches can,” Adam agreed, obviously amused. “I’d do what she told you to before she gives you an inconvenient itch.”

  Irritation flared in Sasha. She didn’t like to see Adam teasing Dylan. “I could say the same for you, Dubois. I need boiling water for infusions, to start.”

  Adam laughed quietly and turned to his stove. “As the lady wishes.”

  ***

  The pungent scent of herbs filled the air along with Sasha’s soft chants. She’d already been at it twice as long as any of the cleansings she’d done on Justine, but the effect on Ethan was barely noticeable. A little of his color had returned, but he still slipped in and out of consciousness.

  She laid a hand on his forehead and spoke firmly, but Ethan only moaned and thrashed in response.

  Dylan crouched next to her and kept his voice low. “What can I do? Do you need more magic? More power?”

  Her ans
wer was barely audible. “I need the last two days back.” Her hands shook, and her frustration was plain. “Maybe a little more, Dylan. But just a little, I mean it.”

  He indulged himself with a soft touch on her cheek. “Just a little. I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

  The fact that she didn’t argue was further testament to the seriousness of Ethan’s condition. Sasha cupped the back of Dylan’s head, whispered something and kissed him lightly.

  Magic built between them, slow and warm, the kind that tickled along his skin and made him wish they were alone even before the connection between them flared open.

  Heat. Worry. Quiet concern and soft power, and the desire he felt for her reflected back at him in equal measure. And underneath it all…

  Love.

  His heart pounded. “Me too.”

  Relief shone bright in her eyes, and she gave him a small, promising smile. “Later, when there’s time…”

  He ignored Adam’s too-sharp gaze and kissed her again, quick and hard. “Take what you need. I’m strong enough.”

  “I know you are, Dylan. So am I.” She turned back to Ethan’s still form and resumed her chanting, louder this time, with a new, commanding note in her voice.

  The man on the floor started to seize.

  “Hold him.” Sasha’s rhythmic words didn’t falter, but he heard the words anyway. “Both of you, hold him down. Just a little longer now.”

  Adam must have heard the words as well, because he appeared on Sasha’s left just as Dylan leaned down to grasp Ethan’s right shoulder. He writhed under their hands as agonized screams ripped free of him. Sasha’s brow creased with concentration, and sweat beaded her upper lip. “Just a little—”

  A surge of energy burst from Ethan along with a tormented snarl as he rolled free of Adam’s grasp, onto his side. Sasha held his head as he gagged and sputtered, finally vomiting a thick black something that Dylan didn’t want to consider too closely.

  He stopped coughing and dragged in loud, sobbing breaths that almost drowned out Sasha’s whispered reassurances. “You’re all right. You’re going to be okay now.”

  Dylan reached out a hand to brace himself on a nearby chair as a wave of dizziness washed over him. “Is it done?”

  “It’s done.” Sasha looked at Adam. “He’ll need fluids. I can’t imagine he’s been able to keep much down these last few days.”

  Adam nodded and rose to his feet. “I’ve got some soup stock from the last time they brought me groceries. What about him?”

  Dylan bristled. “I’m right here. And I’m fine.”

  “Fine,” Sasha echoed, her face pale. “Could I get some—some water?”

  That was when he realized that not all of the weakness making his hands shake was his own. Dylan closed his eyes and took a deep breath before reaching out to pull Sasha against him. “You okay?”

  She pressed her face to his shoulder and nodded, though she still shivered. “A little tired, that’s all.”

  Adam returned from the kitchen. “I’m going to put Ethan in my bed and then I’m going to go to town and check on your people. You know how to use a gun?”

  Dylan nodded.

  “Good.” Adam leaned down and lifted Ethan’s dead weight with no effort, proving that vampires were easily as strong as werewolves. “After I leave, if anyone shows up that you don’t know, you might want to shoot first and ask questions if they can still talk.”

  Sasha stared at the black mess on the floor. “Death magic.”

  Dylan made a soothing noise and tucked her more firmly to his chest. “You need to rest for a little bit. We’ll see if Adam has any extra blankets and you can curl up while I manage the food.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “Sasha, please.”

  “I need to help, Dylan.” She somehow managed to sound firm and pleading, all at once. “I can’t roll into a ball and hide in some blankets right now. I can’t think that much. I need to do something.”

  It wouldn’t help his riled-up instincts, but he doubted much would at this point, short of having Brynn and Joe in the car and headed back to Montana. “Okay. You want to make the food or babysit the sick werewolf?”

  “I’ll cook. I don’t want Ethan to wake up and sense or see me. It might frighten him.”

  Talking to Ethan would give him a chance to see just how bad the situation was—and whether or not he had to think of an excuse to keep her in the vampire’s cabin while he went back for Joe and Brynn. Because Joe Mitchell might need you to rescue him. Absurd to imagine. Terrifying to imagine.

  He kissed the top of her head before releasing her. “Cook enough for all of us, if you can. Something tells me we’re going to need our strength.”

  “Raid the kitchen.” Adam stepped out of the bedroom and pulled the door most of the way shut. “I’m taking my truck into town. Chances are good they’re going to be playing nice with your friends, but it’d be stupid not to check…and I know how to get in and out of town quietly.”

  “I’ll get that broth ready for Ethan first.” Sasha disappeared into the kitchen.

  Dylan waited until Adam had reached the door before speaking, pitching his voice low enough that Sasha wouldn’t hear it. “Do you think there’ll be trouble?”

  “No.” Adam turned and surveyed him through slightly narrowed eyes. After a few moments he nodded, as if he’d answered some internal question. “I don’t think there’ll be trouble because Lawrence is a tired, desperate man, but he’s not stupid. I’ve never met Joe, but if he’s half as scary as Keith, Lawrence would piss himself at the thought of getting into a fight.”

  “Joe’s scarier than Keith.” Adam raised one eyebrow in a vaguely skeptical manner, and Dylan elaborated. “Keith’s more dominant, but Joe’s…harder. If I had to fight one of them, I’d pick Keith.”

  Adam picked up a shotgun from next to the door and nodded to the second one. “You know how to use that?”

  “I grew up in Montana.”

  “Since I haven’t been outside of Maine this century, I’m going to assume that means yes.”

  Dylan felt his lips tug up in spite of himself. “Yes.”

  “Good to know. I could be gone a few hours, so don’t panic. But if Lawrence shows up here…shoot to kill.”

  Dylan squared his shoulders and tried not to be insulted by the hint of doubt in the vampire’s eyes. “I can do it.”

  Adam didn’t reply with words, just nodded shortly, unbolted the door, and left with the shotgun clasped easily in one hand.

  Dylan checked on Sasha first. He found her digging through the cupboards, a saucepan already bubbling on the gas stove. “Some kind of stew or something?” she said, her inflection turning it into a question.

  “Perfect. I bolted the door behind Adam, and I’m going to go sit with Ethan. Yell if you need anything.”

  “All right.”

  The bedroom was dark and quiet. Ethan lay as still as death on a large bed with a solid headboard that looked hand-carved. Even though he didn’t move, his chest rose and fell evenly, and the sick sweat dotting his skin had dried.

  Dylan shifted a stack of haphazardly folded shirts off of the rocking chair in the corner and dragged it closer to the bed. The intricate carvings on the arms and back of the chair looked like they’d poke painfully into anyone who dared sit, but he was too tired to stay on his feet. He eased into the chair and was pleasantly surprised by just how comfortable it was. “Fuck, I need one of these.”

  “They retail for two grand.” Ethan opened his eyes. “I remember you from earlier.”

  “Dylan. From Red Rock. Gavin sent us here because your alpha’s mate called him.”

  Ethan grimaced. “Irene. She’s tried.”

  “What happened?” The generalities he had no problem imagining, but the details… The devil’s in the details.

  “What always happens to small towns.” His dark hair flopped over his forehead as he gingerly pushed himself up to sit against the headboard. “The
mill closed, all the other jobs had dried up, and people couldn’t go somewhere else to look for work.”

  “And someone offered help?”

  “Help.” Ethan snorted softly. “That’s one way to put it. Lawrence accepted, at any rate. Guess he figured he was damned either way. Now he owes his allegiance to Francis, and the pack is paying the price.”

  Dylan closed his eyes, and the memories came all too easily. A van from a nearby town, two twenty-year-old submissive males and a handful of terrified women the same age. Living tithes, demanded in return for the illusion of autonomy. “How far has it gone? What’s Francis asking for in return?”

  “Food.” The word was harsh, an epithet. “He needs to feed his vampire allies.”

  The bottom of Dylan’s stomach dropped out. He curled his hands around the arms of the chair and forced in a breath. “Is that why—” Why they took your mate?

  Ethan’s face was etched in lines that belonged on a much older man. “Francis wants the stronger wolves. They’re not hard to control when they’re being drained half to death every night.”

  Dylan swallowed his own disgust and forced himself to ask the questions he knew Joe and Gavin would need the answers to. “How long has this been going on? And how many people have they taken?”

  “I don’t know. Months.” Ethan looked away. “There were a few in the beginning. Lawrence said they left to look for temporary work, but they never came back. He had to have sent them to Bangor. I should have guessed it then…”

  “Adam says he doesn’t think Lawrence would challenge one of Gavin’s enforcers. Do you think he’s right?”

  It took the man too long to answer. “If he did, it wouldn’t be clean. What do you think happened to me?”

  Lawrence had invited Brynn and Joe to lunch. Cold dread settled in the pit of Dylan’s stomach. “I need to call Gavin. I need to tell him what’s going on.” Just in case. He didn’t speak the words. He didn’t have to.

  “The closest phone is at mine and Emily’s—” He hissed in a breath. “It’s at our place. It’s a twenty-minute drive.”

  Too far when it meant leaving Sasha alone to protect Ethan. “Adam’s gone to town to see how Lawrence is dealing with Brynn and Joe.”