Sabotaged (The Sundance Series Book 3)

by C. P. Rider

  Lucas spoke in my head. My commands don't usually work like that on humans. Those guards must have a little shapeshifter DNA in them.

  More likely they were simply scared. The man had no clue how terrifying he could be to shifters and humans alike. If this goes the way I think it will, I'm going to take down the female in front.

  Why her?

  She was one of the guards I saw shoving around an injured hyena shifter today. He was helpless, and when he cried out in pain, she smiled. She smiled, Lucas.

  You've seen some bad things in here. We'll talk, right?

  We would. When it was all over and I was in a headspace where I could process it, I'd tell him what I'd witnessed in this place.

  Okay, but wait for my signal before spiking, please.

  Signal? What signal?

  Trust me. You'll know it when you see it.

  "Do I need to prove my point?" Lucas said aloud. "Because I will not warn you again. Drop your weapons."

  "All right, that's it." A male guard standing next to the one I intended to spike, puffed out his chest and glared at us. "Now you listen here. We don't take orders from the family dog." He pointed his gun at Lucas's forehead. "I've got a gun, freak, what do you ha—?"

  Lucas leapt, swinging his right arm around, Smilodon claws extended. He didn't so much jump as dematerialize and rematerialize. At least, that's what it seemed like to me.

  The guard's head flew to the left and slammed into the wall beside the bulletin board with the paranormal "Wanted" posters. It stuck there for a few seconds, eyes wide and mouth open, and then hit the floor with a wet splat. Harris and the other guards were spattered with a spray of blood from the ragged edges of the guard's decapitated neck as if from a yard sprinkler.

  As far as signals went, this one was pretty darn attention-getting.

  The guard who had hurt the hyena swiped blood from her eyes and swung her gun around toward Lucas. I was already locked on and ready. I spiked her as hard as I could, using my rage and the residual energy I'd drawn from Lucas, Alpha Juan, and Chandra. The woman stood upright for a full second after I was certain she was dead. Then she keeled over, bashing her face into the warden's desk on the way down, probably leaving some of her teeth in his top drawer.

  "Leila?" One of the guards in the back who'd dropped his weapon when Lucas used his alpha voice, went to his knees and scrambled on the floor for it.

  Still in Gila monster form, Earp shimmied up to the guard, opened his oversized mouth, and latched onto the man's upper thigh through his trousers. His jaw worked at the leg, chewing—and, if I remembered correctly from the desert documentary I'd watched last month with a very excited Earp and a less-than-thrilled Lucas—injecting venom into the wound.

  The guard shrieked. He punched Earp's head, but the giant lizard held on until the man stopped moving, which didn't take long.

  Gila monsters in the wild don't kill people. Their bite hurts, but humans don't die from it. A Gila monster shapeshifter, however, was a whole other story. Their venom was highly toxic and did kill humans. Also, Earp told me it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.

  Shapeshifters were not their animal counterparts. They were not human, either. They were something entirely different. These guards seemed to have forgotten that.

  What happened next felt as if it took minutes. In reality, it all occurred in a sudden burst of violence, and when the figurative smoke cleared, mere seconds had passed.

  Chandra disemboweled and disarmed, in that order, the guard closest to her with a single swipe of her claws. Lucas shifted further into Smilodon form, and then leapt, vaulting over Chandra's head to land squarely on top of another guard, crushing him like an empty can of soda. The man's bones crunch-crackled as his body puddled to the floor. When the hairless guard lying beside the warden's desk rolled over and grabbed his gun, Alpha Juan stomped on the man's cranium like a ripe melon. The snap-pop of his skull breaking echoed through the office.

  The last two guards trained their weapons on Alpha Juan. Their guns hit the floor as I spiked both of them at once, staring into their blood-spattered faces as I cut the power lines to their brains and bodies, watching dispassionately as they plonked to the ground like dominoes.

  Only the warden was left.

  Sweating and shaking so hard his teeth chattered, Garrett Harris pressed himself against the rear wall by a framed picture of his family.

  Lucas spoke. "Come on, Harris. It's over."

  "You think this is over?" Harris took three steps forward and squared off with Lucas. The gun in his hand pointed straight at the alpha's heart. "Do you honestly think the people I work for wouldn't have prepared for this eventuality? Do you think we're stupid?"

  No. I'd never thought that. Evil, hateful, and despicable, but not stupid.

  I opened myself, let the energy Lucas was putting off roll into me. If Harris was up to something—and I was certain he was—I needed to be ready.

  "You are done," Lucas said, as he slowly shifted to a more human version of his hybrid Smilodon form. "This place is done."

  "Who says?" Sweat drooled down the sides of the warden's face. "Your little shifter group? This is a federally-funded organization backed by a private army."

  Lucas shook his head. Sighed. "That's just sad."

  "Sad?" The warden's mouth pinched with disdain.

  "Yeah. All those resources and my little shifter group took you down. With some help from a friend." Lucas nodded to Alpha Juan. "And an international covert organization."

  The door to Harris's office burst open and six armed hybrid-shifted paranormals poured into the room, followed by another man. A man I recognized, though I hadn't laid eyes on him in years.

  "About time, MacLeod," Lucas muttered.

  "Sorry about that, Blacke. Got held up when some of the guards decided to fire up a modified Gatling gun on the roof. Silver-plated ammo—nasty stuff. Took us a few minutes to sort it out. Appreciate you leaving Harris alive. Unfortunately, we need the bastard." He turned to me and smiled. "Hello, sweetheart."

  "Dad?"

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  My dad and I emailed each other, and I talked to him every few weeks or so, but it had been a long time since I'd seen him in person. Years. His short, curly black hair was graying, creases bracketed his mouth, and he was thinner. He still had the same raw umber eyes and handsome smile, though. When I was a girl, he used to swagger around the house mock-bragging about his Sidney Poitier looks and charm.

  The memory had always made me smile. Our good times together had been infrequent and few, so even as disappointed and angry as I'd been with him, I held tightly to things like that.

  I pulled Lucas to the leather chairs on the other side of Harris's office. Chandra and one of the paranormals who had come in with my dad were disarming and restraining the warden. Alpha Juan was pointing out which body parts belonged to which guard. Earp had scuttled out of the room, probably looking for Dottie. My dad was pacing the floor yelling at someone on his cell phone.

  "How do you know my dad?"

  "We've worked together for the past few days. I called him when you disappeared." Lucas tightened the drawstring on his pants. One of the paranormals with my dad gave him a pair of scrub bottoms and he'd had to shift a little closer to human to fit into them.

  "Called him? Why? How do you even have his number?" I glared at him. "Damn it, did you guess the numeric passcode for my cell phone? I told you to stop trying."

  "Of course I guessed it. It was ridiculously easy. The year you moved to Sundance? Really, Neely?" He rolled his eyes. "But that's not where I got your dad's number. I got it from José before he died."

  "My uncle? He never mentioned it to me."

  "Remember the convocation? José pulled me aside that night, told me that if anything ever happened to you and he wasn't around, that I should call Henry MacLeod. He gave me an in-case-of-emergency-only number. He also told me that your dad had certain resources, and that he could help if you were in troub
le."

  "What?" I felt like a fool blurting out questions, but I could not wrap my mind around the fact that Lucas had called my dad. "How could you keep this from me?"

  "He asked me not to tell you. I was honoring José's wishes." He gave me a look that I'm sure he intended to convey piousness. It didn't work. Lucas was a lot of things, but saintly was not one of them.

  "No, I mean how could you keep this from me? I must have read you a hundred times between then and now, you lying liar."

  "Hey, it wasn't a lie. It was a confidence between your uncle and me and I was honor-bound to keep that confidence."

  I held up a hand to stave off further discussion. "Fine. Whatever. But, my dad is human. He's a construction foreman, for God's sake, not a shifter or some kind of soldier."

  Lucas cupped my shoulders and leaned down to look me in the eye. "I couldn't find you, Neely. None of us could. The tracker on your bracelet was out of range. I was desperate and I needed help."

  "But why call my dad?" I was confused, dizzy, and a little sick to my stomach. "I don't understand any of this."

  "Cornelia, Alpha Blacke did the right thing."

  My dad strode over to us, his hands shoved into the front pockets of his trousers. He cleared his throat and looked anywhere but at me. Until now, I hadn't had a chance to do more than greet him because he'd started barking out orders to the paranormals around him. Now that I had his attention, I felt as awkward as he looked.

  Lucas picked up my right hand, tucked it inside his. "Your dad found out where you were because he had a man on the inside. He was already working on getting you out of here when I called him."

  "A man on the inside? You make him sound like a cop or something."

  "Not a cop. But something." My dad finally looked at me. "I planned to explain everything when you came to Texas."

  After all these years, I was in the same room as my dad again. Close enough to smell that he wore same cologne he'd worn since I was a child. The cedar and vanilla notes were as familiar as his eyes and his smile.

  Lucas squinted at me. "You're going to Texas?"

  "He asked me if I would. Nothing was set in stone." To my dad, I said, "What exactly is your job?"

  "About that…" He dropped his gaze again. "It's a little hard to explain."

  "Oh, I don't know, MacLeod. Let me give it a stab." Chandra kept a critical eye on the shifter securing the wrists of a defeated-looking Garrett Harris. "Tighter. I don't want him escaping."

  When the warden was secured to her apparent satisfaction, she turned to give my dad a once-over. "Impeccably cut—though not bespoke—dark gray suit. Good shoes—not handmade Italian—but not cheap, either. No regular government job pays well enough for a suit like that. Or that Rolex. Also, there's the SIG P226 in the shoulder holster under your jacket. Nine-millimeter?"

  "Uh, yes. How did you—"

  "I've seen more than a few feds with that gun." She nodded sharply. "I'm going with clandestine agency, multinational, something very off the books. Black ops, heavily funded by a paranormal cryptocracy connected to American and a few scattered Asian and European governments, possibly North African as well."

  My dad's mouth fell open. "What kind of salary are you pulling in with Blacke? Whatever it is, I'll triple it."

  "I don't work for Alpha. I serve the group." Chandra tipped her chin up, looked down her nose at my dad, which was a trick, since she was quite a bit shorter than he was. "However, I do take side jobs if the price is right."

  "I'll be in contact."

  "I'm sure you will, Mr. MacLeod."

  "I don't understand this." My voice shook. "You told me you worked construction."

  My dad's eyebrows drew together and the lines in his face softened. "I know, sweetheart. I told you a lot of things. Some were true. Some weren't. But everything I have ever done is for you."

  "I'm finding that hard to believe, Dad."

  He sighed. "Ms. Smith is mostly correct. I'm an agent for a security brokerage organization. And yes, it's covert and multinational and funded by a global paranormal shadow government. I could tell you the name, but it wouldn't mean anything to you. Suffice it to say, we're the good guys."

  "Brokerage?" He made it sound as if he worked on Wall Street.

  "In a sense. Paranormals in peril come to us and we deploy people to help them. Since more and more of these blasted sanctuaries started popping up, I've been busier than ever recruiting agents capable of shutting them down. I was lucky enough to find one directly connected to this particular sanctuary. He was working his own angle, but our interests collided, so we joined forces."

  "Are you talking about Alpha Juan?"

  "Not me, darlin'," Alpha Juan replied. "I did this as a favor to Blacke. I was working my own angle. I had reason to believe one of my shifters was being held here."

  "Were they?" I asked.

  He glanced at the bulletin board, his mouth pressed in a firm line. "No."

  "You were supposed to be working for me," the warden snapped. I'd been so caught up in seeing my father again, I'd almost forgotten he was still in the room.

  "Yeah, I know. I'm all broken up about that, Harris," Alpha Juan replied dryly.

  The warden's face clenched with anger. "Whatever happened to honor?"

  "My honor comes from putting the needs of my people first." The Austin alpha gave Harris a lifted brow sidelong glance. "Surely you could understand that."

  "He only understands causing pain." I glanced at his bound wrists, then at the shifter holding onto him. "So, don't be afraid to speak to him in his native language."

  The man gave me a curt nod as he marched Harris across the office and out the door. My gaze followed their progress. Chandra looked at Lucas, nodded, and followed the guard and Harris out.

  The door opened again, and Sampson Ibarra walked in. "MacLeod, the remaining staff has been secured and prepared for transport. How do you—"

  "You son of a bitch." I pushed into Sampson's head, grasping at his brainwaves. This man had put me through hell and, God help me, but I was looking forward to returning the favor.

  Sampson winced; his face darkened to purple as the muscles in his jaw tightened. "S-Stop it-t."

  "Did you listen to me when I asked you not to let them change me?" I shrieked. "No, you didn't. So why in the hell would I listen to you?" I pushed harder. The trancer seemed to have a natural ability to hold me off longer than most paranormals. No matter. With all these alphas in the room to draw from, I could do this all damn day.

  My dad set his hand on my shoulder. "Cornelia, stop it. If Ibarra hadn't contacted me, I wouldn't have had a clue how to find you."

  "But he …" I let up on the trancer a little but kept hold of his brain. My breath pushed out of my lungs in a loud, huffing breath. "He was going to let them change me into a crossbreed."

  A low growl leaked out of Lucas. I blindly held my hand out to him, and he laced his fingers with mine.

  "One wrong move would have cost the children's lives." Sampson eyed Lucas with caution.

  He should have been eyeing me, because Lucas wasn't the one inside his head. "I would have helped you. I did help you."

  "I know. I thought it was too much of a risk. I was wrong." Sampson rubbed the back of his head like it was sore. "It took me months to gain Harris's trust and work my way into this place. I wasn't even sure the kids were here—it was a strong hunch, since they'd been living in Tucson at the time of their disappearance, and this is the only sanctuary in southern Arizona—"

  "That we're currently aware of," my dad interjected.

  "—that we know about. Still, it was a guess. When I got in with Harris, I found the kids—and Fiera, who was as protective of them as I was." He stared at me with his normal, non-trancer eyes. "Once you arrived, we devised a plan to get them out of here."

  "Arrived?" Fury stiffened my jaw so that I could hardly get the words out. "You dragged me here."

  "I know."

  "Who are those kids to y
ou?" But I didn't need an answer from him. I was already inside his head. "Your godchildren?"

  "Their father, Keith, was my best friend in high school. When I found out Keith's family had been taken, there was no question that I'd do anything to get them out."

  I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly chilled. "Are they safe now?"

  One side of his mouth crooked up. "Reunited with their mom and dad a few minutes ago."

  "And Fiera?"

  "She's good, too. Waiting to talk to you."

  "I'm glad Milton, Leah, and Estie are safe." I clenched my teeth. "But I can't forgive you for what you did to me in here. You stripped me of my will."

  "That's rich, coming from you."

  It stung. He was right, even if I didn't like it.

  Sampson glanced at my dad. "If there's nothing else, sir, I'm going to assist with the transportation of the injured shifters. We're loading the last of them now."

  "Thank you, Ibarra. We'll talk later."

  "Yes, sir." Without so much as a backwards glance, he walked out.

  My dad turned to me. "Cornelia, try to understand. Ibarra was only doing what he—"

  "I didn't kill him, did I?" I was vibrating with anger. Lucas squeezed my hand, reminding me that he was there, that I was safe, and that I wasn't powerless. "I was inside his brain that entire time, and I didn't spike him dead. That's all the leeway the trancer gets from me."

  My dad stilled. "I'm sorry."

  "Why? Did you tell him to hypnotize me?"

  "No. Of course not." He looked affronted at the suggestion, which relaxed me a little.

  "Then that's one thing you don't have to be sorry about, Dad." I had a thousand questions for him, but I asked, "What are you doing with the injured shifters?"

  "Transporting them to an urgent care facility outside Tucson."

  "What about the guards? The medics? The rest of the staff? Are you sure you got all of them?" I asked.

  "The ones on duty. My people will comb through the computer files and find the ones off-site. The few we have in custody now are being transported to a different facility."