“Talk to Tristan about joining the sentinels.”
“I’m not sure that would be a good idea. I think it could become problematic within the ranks, and I don’t want my presence to undermine the chain of command already established.” Neither did Lincoln want to start over in an omega position doing grunt work.
“Would you be interested in becoming a personal sentinel to the Alpha family?”
If Lincoln had been in his wolf form, his ears would’ve perked.
“A bodyguard?”
Brice nodded.
“Is one necessary? Or are you tossing me a pity bone?”
“My father thinks one is necessary and Cassie would feel better if someone we trusted traveled with me whenever I’m away from home.” Brice folded his hands across his waist and tented his index fingers. “Our pack is on the cusp of a vulnerable transition. My father will retire in a few years. According to tradition, the Alpha’s firstborn becomes the Alpha-in-waiting. Technically, I’m second-born, but my brother was killed a few years ago, leaving me to inherit the Alphaship.”
Brice glanced over at Cassie then back at Lincoln. “Brenna is my firstborn and it’s her birthright to succeed me. Even though we’re decades away from her stepping into that role, some packs have already expressed concerns not only with her gender, but that her mother is human, as was her paternal great-grandmother.”
Lincoln easily understood Brice’s concerns. Less progressive packs were likely already positioning themselves to overtake the Walker’s Run pack if the opportunity arose.
“To make matters even more interesting, Cassie is pregnant. If we have a son, we could face pressure from the Woelfesenat to put him forth as the Alpha heir.”
“But you have friends on the Council.”
“Not enough. Yet.” Brice’s expression remained neutral, but Lincoln had no doubts of the weight his friend carried on his shoulders. “We have no intention of usurping Brenna’s birthright. Nor will we allow anyone to pressure her into abdicating.”
As the pieces of information began clicking into place, Lincoln understood why the Walker’s Run Co-operative had taken measures to create a legitimate police force, along with its own emergency services and establishment as a municipality.
He had to give Brice credit. A lawyer, trained by his uncle, the renowned Adam Foster, Brice had figured out how to use the full extent of human laws to protect his family and his pack.
“So.” Brice’s gaze—one blue eye, one green, both of equal intensity—pinned him. “Are you interested?”
And just like that, Brice called in the favor of his help for getting Lincoln returned to active duty.
“Yeah, I am.”
A fierce negotiator, Brice went to extreme lengths to resolve issues peacefully, but as those scars on his throat could attest, he was also damn lethal when he had to be. And if the Walkers were gearing up for a dogfight, Lincoln sure as hell wanted to be the one standing with them, not against them.
* * *
Saturday afternoon, after using nearly half a bottle of eye drops and a cool compress, Angeline’s eyes were no longer red and puffy.
All day, she’d held in tears so Lincoln wouldn’t see her weakness, but the moment he’d left, the floodgates opened and unleashed the despicable waterworks. She was lucky if there was any moisture left in her body.
“You big baby,” she said, scowling at her reflection.
There was comfort knowing Lincoln had promised to return. When she’d said goodbye to Tanner all those years ago, there had been no hope of ever seeing him again.
This time it’s different, she told herself. Tanner had been at the beginning of his career. Lincoln’s career was coming to an end and he wanted to start a new life with her and Dayax.
In a matter of weeks, she would unofficially become a parent. Most mothers had nine months to prepare for their newborn. Angeline had far fewer days to prepare for an eight-year-old she’d never met.
What if he didn’t like her? Or worse, what if he hated her?
“I think I’m going to be sick.” She hung her head over the sink and pressed a cool cloth to the back of her neck.
Immediately, a comforting masculine presence chased away her panic. Hugging herself, she promised to keep better control of her emotions. There was no need to worry Lincoln with her insecurities.
Dropping the cloth and the towel she’d used after showering into the laundry hamper, she padded into the bedroom. Crisply folded, Lincoln’s sweatshirt lay on top of her pillow. Her heart melted.
He’d left a token, rich with his scent, to keep her company in his absence. Rubbing the soft fabric against her cheek, Angeline smiled, thinking about the surprise she’d tucked inside his duffel bag.
She draped the sweatshirt over her pillow and dressed for work. Staying busy would keep her mind occupied so she’d have less time to worry.
After putting on her coat, she grabbed her phone and purse and headed outside.
The sun was bright and the sky was clear, giving the false impression of a nice warm day. Still, it was decent enough for folks to enjoy Maico’s Art and Craft Show, likely in full swing down at the town square. One day she would like to check out all the handmade crafts. Perhaps the one in the fall would be a fun activity that she, Lincoln and Dayax could go to as a family.
Angeline hurried carefully down the stairs and to her car, gritting her teeth against the cold nipping at her face and hands.
“Come on, baby. I need some heat.” She shoved the key into the ignition. Something clicked. The engine made a straining noise then died. “I don’t have time for this.”
She counted to one hundred and tried again.
Nothing.
Spotting Damien’s car in the near-empty parking lot, she got out of her vehicle and hurried upstairs. Cold and stiff, her knuckles hurt when she knocked on the door to Lincoln’s apartment.
“Damien? It’s Angeline.”
A moment later she heard footsteps and the door opened. Dressed in camouflage pants and a dark sweatshirt, Damien peered curiously at her.
“What’s up?”
“My car won’t start again. Would you mind helping me out?”
“No problem.” He put on a jacket, pulled a skullcap from his pocket and fit it snugly on his head, then followed her down the stairs.
“I appreciate your help. Come by Taylor’s tonight. Dinner is on me.”
“Thanks,” Damien said. “But I have other plans.”
“Some other time then.”
“We’ll see.”
They crossed the parking lot to her car.
“Pop the hood.” Damien turned up his collar, making him look like he had no neck.
Angeline sat behind the steering wheel and pulled the lever near the floorboard.
Damien propped up the hood. “How old is your battery?”
“A year.” Same age as her car.
“Maybe you have a loose connection.” From the sound of his tinkering, Damien seemed to be checking more than the battery.
Angeline checked the clock on her phone. Miriam and Jimmy wouldn’t care if she came in a few minutes late, but Angeline hated to not be on time.
“How about another jump-start?” That would at least get her to work and she could ask Jimmy to give the battery a jump after her shift ended. She wouldn’t need the car on Sunday. And Monday she could ask Damien for another jump to get her to the service station.
“You should take a look at this,” Damien said grimly.
Angeline didn’t relish the idea of standing in the cold while staring at engine parts that she knew nothing about, but she climbed out of the driver’s seat and joined him at the front of the car.
“What are we looking at?”
“You’ve got a loose wire.”
“Really? Where?”
&nbs
p; “Right down there.” Damien pointed behind the battery.
She leaned farther over the open hood to get a better view. “I don’t see anything.” Even though she’d sharpened her wolf vision because of the low light.
Damien stepped out of her way to give her a better view.
“Nope. Still don’t—”
Damien’s arm locked around her neck and his other hand pressed against the back of her skull, pushing her head forward. Even as she dug her nails into the fleshy part of his arm, her vision darkened until there was nothing but blackness.
Chapter 27
Ninety miles north of Atlanta, Lincoln began to feel antsy. The flow of traffic had been good and there hadn’t been any delays, so he didn’t know why he suddenly felt like he was about to crawl out of his skin.
A quick glance at the console showed the truck had just under a half tank of gas. After checking the rear and side mirrors, Lincoln eased the vehicle into the far right lane.
Taking the next exit, he drove to the nearest gas station. Climbing out of the driver’s seat, he did a few stretches, filled up the tank and then walked inside the store. Not particularly hungry or thirsty, he purchased a package of chewing gum and a couple of magazines to read on the flight, then returned to the truck.
As he drove away from the pumps, his phone pinged with a text message, mostly likely from Angeline. He smiled because it felt really good to know someone actually missed him and eagerly anticipated his return.
Having had no contact with his parents since joining the Program, he had no idea if they remembered having a son. Or if they would be interested in knowing that they would soon be grandparents.
Lincoln’s parents were only children and he had no siblings. At least Dayax would grow up with cousins from Angeline’s side of the family.
Family.
The word resonated in his being.
For the longest time he’d believed having a family was well beyond his reach. Now one was within his grasp, all because of a photograph and a little twist of fate.
Instead of pulling onto the road, he parked in a spot near the air pump and vacuum station and picked up his phone. The alert showed a text from Damien. Lincoln swiped the screen to open the message.
A picture of Angeline appeared on the screen and Lincoln’s heart stopped. Lying on a dirty wooden floor, she appeared unconscious. A cloth had been stuffed into her mouth and silver-dipped zip ties bound her wrists and ankles. The silver collar fastened around her neck was attached to a long silver-coated wire connected to a nearby explosive device. When frightened and trapped, a wolfan’s natural instinct was to shift. But if Angeline transformed into her wolf, the silver would act as a conduit for the shift energy and ignite the bomb.
Lincoln called Damien’s phone. “Hurt her and I’ll rip out your throat,” he snarled.
“Whoa! Whoa!” Damien laughed. “Settle down, Capitán. If HQ knew you were threatening people, they might revisit your active duty status.”
“Where is she?”
“I’m going to hazard a guess that you’re asking about Angeline. Isn’t she working at Taylor’s tonight?”
“I’m not playing games with you, Marquez.”
“That’s too bad.” All the humor in Damien’s voice was gone. “Because right about now, you’re approximately halfway between Maico and Atlanta. Am I right?”
“Yes,” Lincoln hissed between clenched teeth.
“So, you get to choose between two outcomes. If you board that plane in Atlanta, you’ll save the boy and lose the girl. If you turn around and come back to Maico, you might save the girl, but will lose your chance to find the boy.”
Lincoln’s heart felt like it would split in two. How could he choose between Angeline and Dayax?
“Tick, tock. Tick, tock. You have two hours.”
“When I find you, I will kill you,” Lincoln shouted into the phone.
“I didn’t figure you would abandon your promise to the boy so quickly.” Damien’s heartless laugh made Lincoln cringe. “Then again, if your guardian angel dies, what happens to you?”
The line went dead.
Lincoln’s heart pounded furiously as fear unleashed a deluge of adrenaline into his system. His hands trembled so badly that he nearly dropped the phone while searching the contacts for Brice’s number. It took three tries before he managed to hit the call button.
“Damien has Angeline,” Lincoln shouted before his friend finished saying hello. “He’s tied her to a bomb and I only have two hours to find her!”
“I’ll mobilize the sentinels to track them,” Brice said calmly. “Where are you?”
“On I-75. I’m ninety minutes away.” Lincoln heard the panic in his own voice and some part of him believed this was all a dream. “He’s making me choose between Angeline and Dayax. If I miss the plane, I won’t make it to HQ in time to meet up with the team heading to Somalia. If I catch the plane, I’ll lose Angeline.”
Worse than the nightmare reliving the explosion inside the abandoned building in Somalia, this situation would likely kill him or some part of him. Because losing either Angeline or Dayax would leave a gaping wound in his soul.
“Do you know where he’s holding her?” Brice’s clear, level voice helped modulate Lincoln’s rising panic.
“No, but he sent a picture.”
“Text it to me. We’ll start looking as soon as the sentinels are gathered.”
“If they find her, tell them to not engage.” Swallowing the caustic lump lodged in his throat, he forwarded Brice the picture. “I’m coming to get her.”
He’d made the best decision in the midst of an awful circumstance, and it was the one he knew Damien expected him to make. Dogmen prioritized rescues based on the most eminent and immediate threat of danger. Angeline was tied to a bomb. Dayax had a hostage extraction team working to free him and the other children.
“I just received the picture. I’ll keep you updated.”
“Brice, get word to HQ. I’m not going to make the flight so the team will have to go without me. As soon as they make contact with Dayax, they need to tell him that they’re bringing him to me. Or he’ll run away at the first opportunity.” And Lincoln would likely never find him.
“Will do.”
Disconnecting the call, Lincoln focused his mind on the rote mantra he used to prepare for dangerous missions. Once all emotion had drained from his conscience, he slammed the gearshift into Drive and spun out of the parking lot with a singular thought.
Damien Marquez is a dead man.
* * *
Something hard and cold pressed against Angeline’s cheek. Opening her eyes, she saw a black snake coiled in the wake of a parallel sunbeam about six feet away.
Her startled gasp never left her throat because of the large wad of cottony material stuffed into her mouth and held in place with a strip of cloth tied around her head. Quickly, she visually scanned the room, at least what she could see from her angle, lying on the floor.
Neither seeing nor hearing Damien, Angeline tried to sit up. Since her wrists and ankles were bound behind her, it took several attempts before she was successful.
From the weight around her neck, she suspected Damien had collared her and the silver wire dangling down her chest and beneath her arm was some sort of leash.
Really?
She would’ve thought a Dogman would be more original in kidnapping a she-wolf. Her gaze followed the wire across the dusty floor to a strange device sitting in front of several gas cans.
Run!
Her instinct flew into panic mode. With her hands and feet tied, all Angeline could do was scoot away from what appeared to be a homemade bomb. The silver tether didn’t allow her to get far.
Normally, shifting would be her first response. The energy from the transformation disintegrated any material touching her skin.
Except silver.
Changing into her wolf form wouldn’t free her but it certainly might kill her.
She tried to maneuver her legs and discovered that not only were her hands and feet tied behind her, they were also trussed together. Somehow, she had to find a way to get free.
A hidden knife inside her boot was the perfect solution. Too bad she’d scoffed at the idea when one of the human servers at Taylor’s suggested it. Why carry a knife when she could shift into a wolf and use her razor-sharp teeth? At the time she’d never considered a scenario in which a Dogman would kidnap her and chain her to an explosive device.
Think. Think. Think!
What would her father and brothers do?
Angeline huffed. They wouldn’t have gotten themselves into this situation.
She’d broken the first rule: never let your guard down. People like Damien were the reason for the rule. He’d gained her trust and, wham, used the Sleeper Move to incapacitate her.
Unable to do anything else, Angeline studied the room. The dusty windows were boarded up with old planks on the outside. The walls and floor were wood, termite-infested and rotten, from the looks of the panels. The huge door appeared to be solid oak, with rusty iron hinges, a doorknob and slider lock.
A hole in the baseboard at the far right corner of the room, might’ve been where the snake had entered. Using her knees to scoot around, she saw an old stone fireplace. Black marks scored the bottom of the pit and up the flue.
From what she could tell, Damien had dumped her in an old abandoned antebellum but she had no idea where this particular house was located. There were several throughout the area and Tristan knew each and every one. But Angeline had no way of contacting him. Even if she could, she had no idea how long she’d been out. Damien could’ve driven her anywhere, including right out of the Walker’s Run territory.
Damn! All the years she’d resented her father’s drive to make her tough, to make her capable, to make her just as hard-boiled as her brothers, now she understood why.
She fought against the restraints. The thin silver ties bit sharply into her skin but there was no give, no matter how hard she pulled. Exasperated, she roughly rubbed her cheek against her shoulder until she worked the gag loose and spit out the cloth.
Tamed by the She-Wolf Page 23
