by Alisa Woods
Her father sighed, but anger still colored his face a blotchy red. “Why didn’t you tell me, Grace?” He shook his head at her, sad and disgusted.
“Tell you?” She managed to blurt out. “I’ve been trying to tell you! But you refused to listen. You refused to care. And now this…” Jared’s unmoving body captured her—she couldn’t look away from it. “How can you do this? What kind of man are you?”
Her father gritted his teeth. “The human kind. The kind I thought you were. I really wish you would have told me before now—I could’ve spared you this indignity.”
“Indignity?” She felt like she was losing her mind, standing in front of these two men in her bare feet and disheveled clothes, having just revealed her wolf. Agent Smith was eyeing her with particular care, like she had just become extremely interesting to him. She swung back to her father. “What the hell you talking about?”
“I thought…” Her father rubbed his face with both hands, and the anger morphed into a kind of weariness. “I thought I was safe with you, Grace. Usually, the shifter gene expresses much earlier. How long have you been shifting?”
She just gaped at him. “What… are you saying… you knew?”
“I didn’t know,” he sneered. “I merely suspected. After I caught your mother with that damn shifter, I did the math. I knew it was possible. I just hoped… goddammit.” He was shaking his head, but those final words were just mumbled to himself.
“You knew.” The shock was washing over her anew. “You knew all along.”
He dismissed her with a wave, like she was yesterday’s news, then turned to Agent Smith. “I need you to get rid of this… this thing.” He gestured to Jared’s body. “I don’t want to start my campaign with unexplained bodies of bodyguards, especially in shifter form, in my office.”
Agent Smith narrowed his eyes at Jared’s fallen form. “This is rather inconvenient.” He finally put away his tranq gun.
They were ignoring her completely. Her body buzzed, numb.
“If we take him into custody,” Agent Smith said, “his pack will just come after him. Better to just kill him and dispose of the body.”
Terror ripped through Grace’s body. “What? You can’t… you… you need to call a doctor!” Her head was pounding, and the world felt like it was tipping.
“I told you, no bodies,” her father muttered to Agent Smith. “Especially ones that could be traced back here.”
“I’ll make sure that won’t happen,” Agent Smith said coolly.
Her father shook his head. “Fine.” He glanced at Grace, but then spoke to Agent Smith. “What about her? You’ve got the serums now. Can you cure her?”
Grace stared at the two of them in horror. What was he saying?
“I can try.” Agent Smith peered at her. “It might be possible. Although maybe not. And if not, what then?”
Her father waved that concern away. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
Agent Smith advanced toward her. “Come with me, Ms. Krepky.”
She backed up. “Wha… what are you talking about?”
Her father sighed again, returning to his desk. “I wish you had told me, Grace. We could have gotten you help sooner.”
“Help? What kind of help?” But a primal fear raced through her. Cure? That meant… God, what were they going to do to her? The specter of Jared’s medical experiments rose up in her mind. The Senator wouldn’t do that to his own daughter. Would he?
Her father gestured to Agent Smith, encouraging him to proceed. “Take her away. Give it a try. I can’t have her here like this.”
Her eyes went wide with horror. “Daddy—”
His eyes went hard. “I am not your father. Obviously.” He turned his back on her.
Agent Smith made a grab for her. She shrunk away, and in desperation, shifted to her wolf form, hoping to make a run for it. She scrambled past him, but she didn’t even make it to the door before three rapid pinches sunk into her back. The world blurred, and she slumped against the still-closed door.
Her vision started to fade. The last thing she saw was Jared’s wolf form lying on the cool marble floor of her father’s office.
Jared heard wailing in the distance.
He was lying on something hard and foul-smelling, and everything hurt. A moan creaked out of him before he managed to open his eyes. The wailing sound wasn’t a human cry—or a wolf howl—but something mechanical. Pitched high. Pitched low. Back and forth as he slowly opened his eyes.
He tried to move, but he was weak. The room was dimly lit, afternoon light filtering in through slatted blinds. A shaky voice came from behind him, muttering words his barely-conscious brain couldn’t make out. He tried to push up from the musty carpet and twist around to see who it was, but a wave of dizziness sent him back down again. The shrill voice screeched louder behind him.
He vaguely remembered that Agent Smith had showed up at the Senator’s office and shot him—but Jared had no idea where he was now.
He stayed down, closer to the floor this time, and just turned his head to peer into the striped shadows. A woman was standing on a bed in the middle of the room, which was some kind of cheap motel, judging by the odor, the crappy bedspread, and the barely-patched holes in the wall.
Most of all, he noticed the gun shaking in her hand and pointing at him. “Don’t move! Don’t move! Oh God, he’s moving!”
Jared tried to get his hands up and tell her to calm down, but all that came out was a moan and an awkward flailing. The gun went off, and white-hot pain tore through his shoulder, throwing him flat on the floor again.
The woman screamed.
“Fuck,” Jared breathed out. What the hell was going on?
“Oh God! Oh God! I shot him!” The woman was hysterical.
Jared blinked, fighting off another wave of dizziness. His shoulder screamed with fresh pain, but his entire body was body weak and on fire. He swallowed hard, but stayed down, so she wouldn’t shoot him again. When he thought he could speak intelligibly, he waited for a pause between her screaming and ranting.
“I’m not going to hurt you!” he called out.
Her rambling cut off suddenly. He lifted his head to peer at her. She was still on the bed, but the gun was at her side, and she was staring at the window. The mechanical wailing grew closer and louder.
When she saw him watching her, the hand with the gun popped back up. “That man said to shoot you if you woke up!” The gun wavered. She was barely dressed, mostly in fishnet. Her tight corset heaved with her panic.
She was obviously some kind of street worker roped into this situation by Agent Smith. Jared shook his head and tried to piece it together. If some poor woman claimed Jared had attacked her, and she shot him in self-defense… either he would end up dead from her gun or he would simply go to jail. Either way, Jared would be out of the way for whatever Agent Smith’s plans were. And the Senator’s.
Grace. God, what happened to her? There was no way she would take this sitting down. He had to find her.
The woman was still pointing the gun at him.
Jared raised a shaky hand. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeated, more softly. “Just put the gun down. I don’t know what he’s paying you to do this, but trust me—it’s not worth going to jail for murder.” He had to stop for a moment, gasping for air. This raspy kind of weakness… it was bad news. He’d lost too much blood. He needed to get out before the police arrived, or he’d bleed out before he reached the station.
He squinted up at the woman’s terrified face. “This is not your problem. Just put the gun down, and I’ll walk away. None of this has to be your problem.”
Her eyes were wide, but he could tell that shooting him the first time had freaked her out. She slowly lowered the gun again. Jared worked his way to his feet. The siren was insanely close—they were probably pulling into the parking lot already. He was a mess—covered in blood, naked—but at least he was human. A wolf would be shot on sight.
<
br /> Jared stumbled toward the door, threw it open, and lumbered to the back of the motel. He managed to slip around the corner before the crunch of police car tires rolled up to the room where he had just been. It wouldn’t take long for them to come after him, and the way he was bleeding, he’d probably leave a trail. He needed some speed, and for that, he needed his wolf. He would just have to stay out of sight.
He shifted and tore like hell down the side street behind the motel. Then he slowed his pace because he was in danger of passing out, even in magic-enhanced wolf form. He lumbered down the alley, past the back doors of a whole line of businesses, until he’d put a good two or three blocks between him and the police.
Finally, he found a door to one of the shops propped open. He shifted human, yanked on the rusted-out metal door, and stumbled inside. The back half of the store was a warehouse filled with boxes of supplies. One was marked ice cream cones. A screech of childish laughter trickled in from the front. Jared grabbed an apron off a hook and slung it over his neck, managing to cover some of his nakedness before he shoved open another door marked office.
Inside was a phone and no people. Thank God. He collapsed into the desk chair and dialed his brother, Jace.
“Hey, bro, how did the political machinations—”
“Jace.” Jared’s wheezy voice cut him off.
“Jesus! Jared, are you all right?”
“No.”
A peal of laughter came from the front. Shit. The last thing those kids needed was to stumble in on a bleeding half-naked man in the back. Not to mention, they’d call the cops. From the phone in his hand came sounds of shouting and scrambling.
Jace’s voice barked in his ear. “I’m grabbing Jaxson, and we’re getting in the car. What’s your location?”
Jared slumped in the chair, struggling to even stay upright. “Bring your med kit. I need stitching.” He could hear the wheeze in his voice getting worse. The room started to spin. Or maybe it was the chair. He gripped the edge of the desk to keep everything from moving.
“Stay with me, Jared.” That was Jaxson’s voice. “Jace wants me to talk to you and keep you awake, so don’t let your lazy ass fall asleep on me.” There is a brief muffled sound, then, “Location! We need to know where you are, Jared. You’re not on your cell.”
“Ice cream store.” His vision was beginning to blur. “Kids. Lots of kids. Birthday party maybe.” His head was slowly sinking to the desk, and he couldn’t seem to stop it. He just needed to rest for a little bit—then he could maybe get up and see where he was. Find an address…
“Jared! Wake up!”
But he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He set the phone on the table, then laid his head down. So tired. The world slowly went black.
Muffled voices woke him this time. Then rough hands jostled him. A dozen of them. They lifted him up and carried him… somewhere. By the time he opened his eyes, he was in the back of one of the pack’s vans. Jace was bending over him, flashing a light in his eyes that made him squint.
“He’s conscious,” Jace told someone, not him. Then he lightly tapped Jared’s face. “Stay with me, bro. I need to stitch you up. This might hurt a little.”
Jared nodded shakily. “No scars,” he wheezed. “This time.”
Jace smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you pretty enough for Grace.” Then the humor dropped off his face, and his brother dug into a kit next to Jared. A moment later, he was digging into Jared. He must’ve swum in and out of consciousness for a while, because the next thing he knew, he was waking up on a much softer surface.
He was back in his bed at the safehouse.
Jace and Jaxson were both in his room, along with their mother. All three of them wore faces fit for a funeral. Jared tried to struggle up to sitting, but he was crazy weak. Jace saw him first and jumped out of his chair next to the bed to push Jared back down.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Jace said. “I mean, more than you usually are. You lost a lot of blood. You need to rest.” But he looked relieved to see Jared awake.
His mother and Jaxson gathered around the bed as well, worried looks on their faces.
“I’m good,” Jared said, but he could feel the weakness in it. Shit. He was a mess. And Grace was still… he didn’t know. “Where’s Grace?”
They exchanged looks. Jace spoke first. “We don’t know.”
“How long have I been out?” Jared asked. It usually only took him a few hours to recover once he got stitched up.
“About ten hours,” Jaxson said quietly, frowning.
Damn, Jared thought. He’d been out ten hours and still felt like shit? He must have been close to punching out. And for once… he was really glad that he didn’t.
“I’ll get him something to eat,” his mom said, then scurried toward the door.
Jared wanted to sit up, but Jace was still looming over him. He had that I’m an Army Shifter Medic, don’t mess with me look. He’d probably dose Jared with something to keep him down if he had to.
Jared managed to keep him back with a scowl. “I need to go after Grace.”
“You’re in no shape to go after anyone.” Jaxson exchanged a look with Jace, who nodded. “But if you tell us what’s going on, then we can do what needs to be done.”
Jared sucked in a breath. Some of his strength was returning, but it was still pretty bad. “Grace was going to tell the Senator she was a shifter, but before she could, Agent Smith showed up.”
Jaxson’s eyebrows flew up. “Holy shit.”
“Those would’ve been my exact words,” Jared said with a nod, “but I was too busy trying to kill him. He shot me and dumped me at some motel, trying to get rid of me, I think, while keeping all of it away from the Senator. But all this could’ve blown back on Grace. I need to know if she got out of that room okay. Agent Smith tranqed me—I don’t know what happened to her.”
“Okay, okay,” Jace said, holding his hands up to placate Jared. “We’ll find out what we can about Grace.”
“We don’t have time to mess around.” Jared struggled to sit up again, and this time he batted away his brother’s hands as Jace tried to stop him. “You’re not going to stop me from going after her.”
Jace gave an elaborate sigh, and Jaxson just shook his head.
“Well, I’m glad to see you’re just stubborn and not doing something stupid that might result in your death.” Jaxson gave him a hard look.
Jace pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll just check in with Garrison Allied—”
“No!” Jared said, making a swipe for the phone but missing so awkwardly it was clear he was in no shape to do anything. But he had to keep his brothers from screwing things up… worse than they already were. “Garrison Allied’s already in deep shit the Senator. I was undercover, remember? He’s probably already reamed them a new one. They’re not going to help us.” He rested his head in his hands. It was throbbing, but at least it wasn’t spinning like he remembered before the surgery. “The key is Agent Smith. He’s obviously still here in Seattle, and we know he’s working with the Senator. There has to be some way to track him. And you should call the campaign office and ask for Grace. If she’s okay, she’d be going about her normal business, and that’s where she would be.”
Jaxson frowned, but he didn’t disagree. “All right, here’s the deal: you stay here, get some rest, and Jace and I will track down these leads. If you’re not resting, then we have to sit here and babysit you to make sure you heal up the rest of the way and can be worth a damn in helping us rescue her. If that’s even necessary.”
Jared couldn’t deny the weakness that was still running through his body. He wouldn’t be any good to Grace if he just collapsed while trying to rescue her. Still… it was killing him not to crawl out of the bed and go after her. With great reluctance, he gave Jaxson a small nod of agreement and leaned back against the pillows of his bed.
Jace was heading for the bedroom door, but turned back to ask, “Do you still have that facial r
ecognition software program running?”
“Yeah. That’s good thinking.” It was a testament to how messed up he was that he hadn’t thought of it first. “If Agent Smith’s in Seattle, we should be able to line up some of those traces. And, Jace, he’s using an alias—at least in his dealings with the Senator. Name is Robert Sanders. You might get some hits on that.”
“I’m on it.” Jace disappeared out the door. Jaxson hurried after him.
Jared sunk into the softness of the pillows. He would just take a short nap, then call his brothers back up. Or go hunt them down. If Jace had done his job sewing him up, it shouldn’t take long for Jared to get back to full strength. The fact that he’d only just now woken up was a bad sign… but a little more rest should do it. His body felt like it weighed ten times normal as he let himself relax. Sleep grabbed him and threw him down a deep, dark well.
When Jared awoke this time, the sun had gone down and moonlight was already shining through his bedroom window. But when he sat up, his headache was gone and a new sense of energy flushed through his body. He tested it out by swinging his legs over the side the bed, and when they felt steady, he got up. He stretched out the aches and pains—and noticed he had several new scars—but he felt pretty good. Probably about eighty percent.
Which was plenty good enough to go after Grace.
With any luck, she would have spent the day doing campaign activities. He kind of hoped she worried about him, just a little… and that hope was a strange sensation inside his chest. Not that he really wanted her to worry. But he did. Along with the urgent desire to believe the connection between them wasn’t just in his imagination.
He quickly washed up and threw on some fresh clothes, then trotted down the stairs. Even that jostling didn’t hurt him. He was feeling better with each step.
A war room had been set up in the dining room just outside the kitchen. Jaxson, Jace, Piper, and even Olivia, along with Owen and a couple of the other pack members, were crowded around the table. Maps and printouts and tablets scrolling information crowded the surface.
