by Amelia Jade
Which, he knew, is why most werewolves didn’t end up mated. They would have several women over the course of their lifetime, but never that one. Aiden knew precisely three werewolves who had found their mates. Mack was one of them. The presence of his mate was what had enabled him to rise up, become a pack Alpha, and eventually the regional Alpha as well. The man had an unrelenting drive, and he said he owed it all to Maggie.
Aiden didn’t want to get his hopes up. Just because she wasn’t his mate, however, didn’t mean that he couldn’t care for her deeply. Aiden was positive he already did, and after the previous evening he thought she felt the same. A bond had been forged between them in the short time he’d been a member of Stephen’s pack. The way he saw it, they were the only two sane ones in the entire house. The rest were a pack of wild animals barely held in check.
The van that hauled the entire pack to and from the shipping facility finally came back to the pack house. Aiden wanted to sigh with relief as the aging vehicle shuddered to a halt and the engine finally cut off. With the way his mind and body were all wound tighter than a spring over Willow, the vibrations of the ride hadn’t been helping keep himself calm.
“Okay, get some food and then rest up for tonight,” Stephen said before the group went their separate ways.
This wasn’t all that unusual of a command. Aiden had heard it two other times before. Neither time had it included him, and he doubted this time would be any different. So he hopped out and started heading over to the house, wondering just how he might be able to finagle a random run-in with Willow.
Or perhaps everyone will leave tonight, and we can have a bit of time to ourselves…
He desperately hoped that would be the case. Anything to help him get closer to her. He’d barely been able to exchange ten words with her all day, and even that had been a challenge.
“Aiden, Flint, stay behind please.”
His footsteps halted immediately. Stephen wanted him to stick around? For what?”
Flint spoke up before he had the chance. “What’s up, boss?”
“I want you to take the new guy with you on your delivery tonight.”
Aiden watched as Stephen held up a hand to forestall Flint’s complaints. “I know your feelings on the matter. But he did good for us last night, and he deserves a chance to become a part of us. He’s in our pack, whether you or I like it. We may as well make sure we’re all in it together.”
There was something about the way Stephen was speaking that made Aiden suspect he wasn’t doing this completely out of the niceness of his heart. There was definitely something else going on, some other reason he wanted Aiden to go along and help out. His speech wasn’t about unity.
Then he got it. It was the “all in this together” line that finally clued him in. Stephen wanted to ensure that Aiden’s hands were as dirty as the rest of them. This wasn’t about giving him a shot, but about having proof that he was involved with whatever was going on, just like everyone else was. That way Aiden would be less likely to report things, because in his state, if Stephen’s pack went down Aiden would go down with them. He had no other chances, no way out.
It was a neat trap, and there was nothing Aiden could do about it except stick it out and hope that he could find a way to ensure that Mack was the one who brought the whole operation down, and not someone else. Nobody else was likely to believe his situation.
“What are we doing?” he asked, trying to act like he was happy for the chance to be of more use to the pack.
“A delivery,” Flint growled. “Don’t fuck it up.”
Aiden glared at the pack Second. He fucking hated Flint. When the time came, he was going to enjoy handing the arrogant prick his ass on a platter. “I won’t fuck it up if you tell me what’s going on, so that I can do a good job. If you don’t give me the information I need, then it’s all on you whether this goes smoothly or not.”
Stephen stepped between the two of them as Flint snarled and squared off against Aiden.
“Enough,” he snapped. “Work together, get this done. Understood?” He turned his glare on Flint.
For a moment Aiden thought the two were going to fight, but eventually Flint submitted and nodded.
“Good.” Stephen spun, hitting Aiden in the chest with a finger. “Don’t provoke him. Do as you’re told, nothing more.” Then he addressed Flint again. “The better he does on this, the more I can trust him, which means he won’t have to run with you again. Keep that in mind. Now go get it done.”
The Alpha turned and walked away before either of them could say anything else.
Flint glared. “Come on.” He didn’t wait for Aiden to respond before he headed to the garage where the other vehicles were housed. Aiden hadn’t been there before, since he didn’t own a vehicle. He saw pickup trucks coming and going infrequently, but that was all.
The two hopped in a white pickup and headed back to the facility where Flint directed him to one of the company’s cargo vans. This one didn’t have any windows on the rear, and the hole between the front seats had been covered over with plywood, preventing him from seeing what was in the back.
"Should I be doing anything?” he asked while Flint guided the truck out of the lot. Judging by the feel of the way it handled, Aiden decided it was already loaded up. With what, he couldn’t tell, but obviously this had been prearranged. All they were doing now was the final step.
He still didn’t know what that was, but something told him this was going to be a turning point in his investigation of Stephen’s pack. Tonight he was going to learn more about what was going on, and then start to formulate a plan to bring it all crashing down. He could feel it. Things were starting to move faster. Now all he had to do was keep up.
“Keep your eyes open for anything suspicious.”
Aiden contemplated asking just what classified as “suspicious.” The way that dog across the street looked at him while it squatted to do its business? That was certainly odd. Or the streetlight that flickered on as they drove underneath it. Could that be a warning signal to a black-costumed night vigilante, telling him that their van was up to no good? Would the spotlight in the sky come on to notify him? Or maybe the static fuzz on the radio station meant it was actually a recording by aliens. All of the above were “suspicious” in the right mindset.
He doubted Flint would see the humor in any of that though. The guy was so tightly wound the slightest bit of humor would probably cause him to go insane. Probably not a good thing while he was behind the wheel. So Aiden simply sat back into the chair and scanned the surroundings until Flint pulled them into a parking lot that bordered on a woodlot.
“Take the woods. Keep an eye out for uninvited guests. Make sure you aren’t seen.”
Aiden nodded, understanding exactly what Flint meant by that. He wanted him out in his wolf form, prowling for anyone who might be waiting to ambush them. The only other vehicle was a black pickup truck. It had one of those old-school hardtops on it that were the same height as the cab, allowing it to store a good amount of stuff.
The doors opened and two men got out. Flint nodded in recognition to them both. Once he saw that, Aiden padded off into the forest, finding a small clearing where he could strip before changing. He really didn’t feel like riding naked all the way back with Flint. Things were awkward enough between the two of them that he didn’t need that, despite his normal proclivity to poke at the pack Second.
Just before he shifted, Aiden sent another text, asking for an update on his earlier quest for information. He put his phone on silent, stashed the clothes under a pile of brush, and then shivered his way into wolf form. Testing the air to ensure nobody was imminently close, he then took off into the forest to explore the area, keeping his nose open as the wind constantly swept through.
He roamed far and wide, leaving the decision of how to notify him if he needed help up to Flint. Nothing came across as unusual on his little jaunt, prompting him to head back toward the parking lot. As he got
closer, the scent of human and metal became clear.
Guns. Goons and guns. He lifted his nose, testing it. Three of them.
Aiden moved along their scent, gaining on them quickly, but also quietly. The humans were good at moving noiselessly, considering he hopped up onto a log and nearly ran into one after they had paused. His jump had been completed in near-perfect silence. But with the human’s head perhaps three feet from his own, staying unseen just wasn’t possible.
Shit.
His options were not good. Running seemed preferable; he could lose them with ease as he circled out and around and back to Flint and the van. They wouldn’t beat him to it, and he could be there to help Flint deal with the others if need be. Then they could get in the van and drive away before the gunmen arrived.
Or he could do something really, really stupid, and attack them. This was the idiotic route. The one most likely to get him killed. He couldn’t take on three armed gunmen, even with the element of surprise, which was already being lost. Not without there being a good chance of them tagging him with some hot lead. Yet, if he did take them on, it would prove to Flint that he could be trusted, and perhaps engender some respect for dealing with them on his own. It could also get him killed, very easily.
The smart thing to do was run.
Which is why Aiden leapt at the nearest gunmen, a blur of black fur in the darkness. He had that going for him. With the sun having set nearly an hour before when they were arriving back at the pack house, things among the trees were very dark. Little of the city light penetrated this far into the foliage, giving him all sorts of cover and natural camouflage.
Aiden rode the panicked gunmen to the ground. His trigger discipline was excellent though. Despite the surprise attack, he didn’t shoot as he was buried under two hundred-plus pounds of wolf. Aiden leapt from his back into the face of the next attacker who had just completed his turn. First his paws, then his jaws shredded the delicate, sensitive skin of the human’s face.
He bounced off the gunman back at his original target. Aiden’s jaws closed on the back of his neck and he tore at it viciously for a split second before darting off into the woods. He listened carefully at the pained cries of the two men, and the angry voice of the third telling them both to shut up.
Smiling, he crept through the darkness until he was behind them. Even if the one remaining healthy attacker had been looking in the right direction, his only warning would have been the sudden appearance of a pair of yellow eyes that darted toward him. A split-second later bone-white teeth would have loomed large in his vision.
Instead Aiden slashed in swiftly and stealthily, his razor-sharp teeth ripping much of the gunman’s calf free of his body before he darted away back into the underbrush. A moment later gunfire blew apart his trail in a hail of bullets, narrowly missing Aiden as he ran deeper into the brush, circling out and around them once more.
He was breathing heavily now, more from the close call than his efforts. Several of those bullets had gone by so close he’d heard them whiz by his ear. He would have to be more careful next time with a follow-through attack, so they wouldn’t get the chance to orient on him.
Twice more he darted in unexpectedly, taking chunks of flesh off each time. The gunmen were good though, and both times the bushes disintegrated under the combined fire of all three of them. Finally they managed to get their backs to each other, each of them watching a different direction.
Aiden wanted to keep going to drive them off, but he felt like this was enough. He shifted back to human form, careful to keep a tree between him and the others.
“Leave,” he commanded, his voice echoing through the trees, bouncing off of some.
A flurry of gunfire sprayed all around where they thought he was. Most of it was in the right general direction, but none of it threatened him. Not with a three-foot-wide tree in the way.
“Fuck you!” came the response a moment later.
“Leave before I kill you.”
“Fucking Weres,” came the reply. “You think you own everything. That you have the right to sell this shit. Well guess what, some of us don’t want it out there. You don’t know what it does!”
Aiden frowned. He started to ask them what they were talking about when another wolf emerged from the forest and resolved itself into Flint. His face was covered in blood, the only evidence of how he’d dispatched the other two.
“Sitrep.”
“Three men, back to back, automatic rifles, twenty-five yards straight ahead,” he said, indicating the direction. “They know what they’re doing too.”
Flint nodded. “Wounded?”
“Yeah, all three of them are in rough shape, but still in the fight.”
“Can they run?”
“No.”
“Okay, we’re out of here then. They’ll have backup, possibly local police.”
Aiden again wanted to know more, but Flint was already back in his wolf form and leaving, fully expecting Aiden to follow. Cursing himself, he dropped to all fours and took off, only stopping briefly to grab his clothing. Then, without waiting around any longer, they hopped in the truck and departed, leaving the gunmen to wonder what had happened.
They weren’t the only ones with questions. Despite his hopes that his night would end with a more comprehensive picture of just what the fuck Stephen and his pack were up to, it appeared Aiden was going to be left with more questions than answers.
He’d already surmised that they must be selling something. The question was, what? Drugs? Weapons? Stolen goods? He had no idea. While there was no law in the shifter world that packs must adhere to the idea of being the “good guys,” it was well known that nobody would stick up for them if they were caught.
Mack wouldn’t have sent him here for that though. He would just tip off the police and let them handle the problem for him. Far easier to do it that way. So why insert Aiden into the mix? That clearly indicated it was something related to the fact they were Weres. There were a few things they could be selling. None of them pleasant, and some of them downright terrifying to think of if word got out.
On top of that, there was the question of who the gunmen were. His earlier inner joke about the masked vigilantes suddenly didn’t seem so far off the bat. Whoever they were, they seemed intent on stopping Flint from delivering whatever had been in the back of the truck. Or was still there, for all he knew.
In his pocket his phone buzzed. Pulling it out, he looked at the message.
Private Number: No record found of any wild shifter within five years on either side of the date you provided.
Aiden took a second to reread the message, then sent one thanking his contact and deleted the conversation. The number wasn’t in his phone, and never would be. He’d memorized it a long time ago.
Just before he’d left the RRT.
The message hadn’t answered his question, but it had told him something he’d long suspected. Stephen was lying to Willow about what had happened to her family.
The question was, why?
Twelve
Willow
She paced back and forth in the upstairs hallway, the curtains wide open, giving her a full view of the driveway. Once her father had told her that Aiden was going out with them that night on a delivery, Willow had instantly known she wasn’t going to sleep until he returned.
It wasn’t that she was expecting trouble for any specific reason. The deliveries always seemed to go smoothly, and she rarely heard of any issues. The government, as big and ungainly as they might be, seemed to always handle its business with her father’s company smoothly and efficiently. What Willow didn’t understand was why it all had to be so clandestine. Why couldn’t they operate during the daytime? She hated all this sneaking around bullshit!
Tonight was even worse, however. With Aiden out on a delivery—with Flint of all people!—she was even more anxious. In her gut she could just feel that something was going to happen. Thankfully the house was empty, which meant nobody was the
re to see her little freakout.
Movement on the driveway caught her attention like a dog who knows the word “walk.” Willow was practically perched on the windowsill as a vehicle came up to the house. It was a white pickup, which unfortunately didn’t tell her much. All of the vehicles stored at the pack house were white pickups, besides the van they used to get to and from the facility daily. She had to wait until it pulled up and two figures emerged.
When neither of them seemed to be moving with obvious hurry or injury, Willow allowed herself to breathe her first sigh of relief. Perhaps everything had gone according to plan. They headed inside and she went to greet them.
“What the FUCK happened back there?” Flint shouted as the door opened.
“Like I’ve told you twice before, Flint. I don’t know who they were. I was patrolling the forest, like you asked me to. I smelled three humans. I went to check them out, and they were armed with guns. They weren’t novices at wilderness movement either. They stopped, I jumped up on a fallen tree, and they were right there. I had no choice.”
“You didn’t know if they were friendly or not!” Flint raged.
Even Willow, taken aback by the anger, could figure out the bullshit in that logic. Aiden didn’t need her help, though. He snorted.
“If they were friendlies, then you didn’t do your damn job properly, in which case everything is your fault. I did exactly what I should have done, Flint, and you know it. You’re just pissed that someone was following whoever those guys you were meeting with, and almost got the drop on us.”
Flint stared daggers at Aiden, and for a moment Willow thought the two of them were going to go at it. But eventually the pack Second just snarled and walked away. The pair of them stood where they were, watching as Flint headed up the stairs and to his bedroom. The door slammed a moment later, confirming his location.
