This Weakness For You (Entangled Select Otherworld) (Taming the Pack) (18 page)

“What else do they have in common?”

“Well, other than Alanna, they’re the most promiscuous. I keep trying to explain the concept of monogamy to them, but they seem to feel it’s an outdated concept—even for Lycans. I’m expecting one of the females to get pregnant, and it’ll sober them up real quick.”

“What do they do…besides each other…I mean for a living?” He was making less sense the longer this dragged on.

“Martin and Brant work for a lumber company. Troy works for a private ambulance outfit here, instead of with the fire department, so his work keeps him tied to the area around the hospital. Lara and Kelly work at a restaurant. Merilee works from home—and by that I mean she makes amateur videos that sell very well among the male demographic.”

“Sounds like your garden variety bunch of mindless killers.” He wiped both hands down his face. “So, seven Lycans got together, despite their varied schedules and tracking tags suggesting otherwise, for a fun little party. They caught and killed Colby, smeared themselves with his guts and ran through the forest? I’m sorry, but that sounds pretty damn ridiculous.”

“It does.”

“It would have taken planning and organization and cover-up, and having had a conversation with Merilee…” He gestured toward the area he’d last seen her. “If she’s making videos with that level of acting, Tarantino would be on her speed dial.”

Travis snorted. “No. She’s not that great an actress.”

Jordan raised his eyebrows.

“So I’ve heard.”

Jordan picked up one of the bags before tossing it down again. “Plus, we should have caught some traces of one over the others at times, but we didn’t. It was all of them or none of them. That makes no sense.”

“Nope.”

“We also didn’t see varying size prints…and even though you said all but Merilee had prints that could be mistaken for males, we only saw one size print.”

“Yup.”

Jordan dropped onto his back on the carpet. “Okay. This is the only way it makes sense: someone got items from them, just like we did, and wrapped the clothes around themselves and the last two nights have been a wild-goose chase.” He hit a fist against the floor. “And it’s possible that last damn scent is actually the one we need, or it could be any of them, or it could be so subtle we’re not catching it.” He hit the floor again.

Travis groaned and dropped to the floor. “They had this damned all-nighter at the cabin we use for meetings—all but Alanna, all six of them. That’s probably the link. Clothing was very optional from what I found when I went in the next morning. Anyone could have grabbed clothing that night.”

“When was this orgy?”

“Three weeks ago. But how did they get Alanna’s scent?”

“Clothing like lab coats go in and out of her work for cleaning every day, and that might be why the scent of iodine and rubbing alcohol was so strong.”

“I guess that rules out a drifter…Lycan.”

Jordan snorted. “I’d already ruled that out. Only someone who knows me would know how to piss me off this much and fake this good of a trail.”

Exhaustion set in fast. It’d been too many long nights to have it end in a load of nothing like this.

“Yup.”

“Aw, hell.” He kicked the bags away from him. The scent was even more repugnant than it’d been a minute ago. It smelled like defeat in addition to everything else.

“Yup.”

“I hate your pack.” All this time—all this time away from his pack, away from Christa—for nothing.

Travis just shrugged.

“I hate their guts.”

Travis sighed and said, “Especially Colby’s, I imagine.”

Jordan closed his eyes. He’d sleep on the floor for a few hours—then he’d get up and kill every member of the Rainier pack just for this hell.

Travis pushed to his feet and headed to bed. First he’d kill Travis for having the energy to get up and go find a bed.

Okay, he couldn’t stand the smell anymore. Fighting the black wall of exhaustion, he got to his feet and stumbled down the hall to the spare bedroom. When he went to move his bag off his bed, he caught the scent of something much more pleasant, buried under the clothing he’d packed. Vanilla and brown sugar. He upended his bag. Down at the bottom, he found a cloth ponytail holder of Christa’s. She’d had it in her hair when they’d been packing—either she’d dropped it in on purpose or by accident. He set it on the bedside table and shoved his clothes off onto the floor before collapsing on the bed. A few hours of sleep, one last powwow with Travis, and he’d be back with his mate.

All this time, being yanked around. It was as if someone was stalling him here…

His eyes shot open.

Aw, hell.

Chapter Eleven

“Didn’t you
just
go to sleep?” Travis asked when he shook him awake.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“One of your people is yanking my chain, and I think they’re stalling me on purpose.”

“Why?”

“That is what I want to find out. All your pack at the lodge in one hour. Tell them anyone not there will forfeit their life, and I will purposefully hunt them down and kill them.”

Travis was wide-awake now. “Uhh.”

“Do it!”

A half an hour later, they were in front of the computer watching the tracking tags.

“Shouldn’t we be going to the lodge?”

“Nope. We don’t need to see who shows up. We want to know who makes excuses and doesn’t show up. One of your pack isn’t actually here.”

“How do you figure?”

“All this misdirection—the blood, the other scents, the flimsy appearance of it being poachers. They knew the suggestion of poachers would get our attention, but that we’d guess it wasn’t them fairly early, setting us at ease—and making us take a harder look at your pack. The only explanation for this wild-goose chase is that they’re not here—otherwise they wouldn’t want us roaming all over looking for them. It looks like most of the pack is heading toward the lodge. Who is making excuses?”

“Merilee says she is going to be fifteen minutes late. Ross says he’s too sick to move and that you can just come kill him anyway and put him out of his misery.” Travis smiled at this, but Jordan swore.

Pulling out his phone, he called Dane.

“Do you know it’s five a.m.?” Dane asked, instead of answering.

“Tell me about Ross. You knew him.”

“Uhh, just from talking to dispatch, and honestly, he seemed to prefer to talk to Sammy.”

“Why?”

“I think he had a crush on her.”

Jordan swung to look at Travis. “Who asked what really happened to Sammy?”

“A few of them, but definitely Ross,” Travis said, tapping on the GPS tag with Ross’s name.

“Who asked you to drag me down here?”

“Same thing, but I think it started with Ross.” Travis clicked through all the check-ins. He hadn’t changed locations the entire time Jordan had been around.

Their eyes met.

“Jordan, what’s going on?” Dane asked.

“Dammit,” Jordan said, grabbing his keys from beside the computer. “Travis, reroute Tom and Sean to Ross’s place—meet them there and call me with what you find. See if you can do a trace on Ross’s cell.” He said into the phone, “Dane, emergency meeting. All the pack has to be there—kids, seniors, sick or healthy—they
all
have to be there. I’ll call Christa and get back with you. You’re in charge of the rest of them. Anyone who doesn’t show up may be dead already. I’ll be there in two hours or sooner. Oh, and notify everyone that Ross should be considered a hostile.” He hung up and immediately began dialing again.

Shouldering the phone, he sprinted to the spare room and glanced at the clothes. Travis could have them. It’d cost him too much time to pack. Time he didn’t have. He grabbed the hair thing off the side table, stuffing it in his pocket, and fifteen seconds later, he was driving ninety down forest roads. If any cops tried to pull him over, they could just follow him back to Glacier Peak and his house and Christa—because, dammit, his home phone was already busy.

…

Christa sat at the desk, twirling a pen around her finger. Calling across time zones was sometimes exhausting. She yawned as soon as she said good-bye to one of her vets and put her head on Jordan’s desk. Another long day without Jordan here. His lack of progress probably meant he’d be there for another few days at the very least. She looked up a new file. A couple more calls, and she’d break for an early lunch.

A half an hour later, she was smoothing the wrinkles from her forehead and tapping her pen on the desk. “Yeah, but Ernie, you know you shouldn’t play Russian roulette with your meds like that. I can find a way to get you financial help for the prescriptions, but you have to actually take them—not just what you want to pay for or what you remember. I can have a medication timer and pill container shipped to your house.”

“Christa, those green pills make me dizzy, so I stopped taking them a few days ago. I really don’t think I need them.”

“Green pills?” She sorted through his prescription history. “Do you know what they are? Because I’m not seeing anything in what your doctor has reported in that should look like that.”

Ernie was quiet. “Wait, do you think these might be my wife’s pills? The doctor gave her something for menopause, and she keeps sticking it on my shelf and sometimes I don’t have my glasses on when I take my pills—so I just take one from each bottle.”

She sat back in the chair, tossing down the pen. “Ernie, if you’re going through menopause, that’s a whole other problem we should be talking about.”

Ernie laughed. “Let me go check my cabinet and see.”

The loud rattle of gravel and the squeak of brakes put a frown on her face. “Was that at your place or mine?”

“What’s that?” Ernie asked. She heard him shuffling across carpet.

The door was flung open and Jordan strode in.

“Uhh, Ernie, my…uhh…Jordan just got here…I’ll need to call you back.”

Jordan didn’t even pause; he stalked toward her…yes, stalking
was
in their nature. Her heart started to pound, and she was too shocked to be happy.

He was home.

Jordan was home.

“What?” Ernie asked.

Jordan yanked the receiver out of her hand. “She’ll call you back,” he said before hanging up. He pulled her out of the chair and set her on the desk. Leaning in, he cupped her face. “What the hell do you do for a living?” Then he blinked and said, “Never mind.” He lowered his mouth onto hers. He pushed her lips open, demanding entrance, and his tongue stroked hers.

Her entire body flushed with heat, and she opened her legs so he could move between them and press closer to her. She hooked her legs around his hips. This was really happening. After all their dancing around this, it was finally happening.

He pulled back slightly and murmured against her mouth, “I missed you.”

She’d expected him to go back to kissing her, but he pulled back farther. Her lips felt wet and cold, and she opened her eyes. He was staring down at her—devouring her—his gaze hot and intense. There was a thin line between the man and the beast.

“I wish we had about fifteen minutes to spare,” he said, picking her up, his hands on her butt and with her legs still around his waist.

She pressed herself tighter against him and sighed…until his words caught her attention.

“Wait, what?” Her hands had crept up around his neck, and she leaned back to meet his gaze again. “We don’t have fifteen minutes?” She twisted and looked around. He was heading toward the open front door—carrying her. His Bronco was out front with the engine idling, and the front door still open.

Lucifer slid back inside the house just before Jordan slammed the front door closed without breaking stride.

“Jordan?” She grabbed his face and forced his eyes to meet hers. “What’s going on?”

“Meeting. You’re coming.” He set her down on the passenger seat.

“Why am I coming? What are you doing home?”

He slid behind the wheel, and a moment later they were tearing out of his driveway like he was sixteen and holding his driver’s license for the first time.

“Jordan!” She punched his arm. “Drop the Alpha act and explain now or I will jump from a moving vehicle.” She’d expected to be on his bed making wild jungle love, not hurtling along the road at crazy speeds.

He handed her his cell phone. “We’ll get reception at the end of the road. Call your brother and tell him we’re on our way, and that you’re fine.”

She punched him again. “Jordan!”

He blinked and turned to her. “What?”

“What is going on?”

He shook his head and said, “Uhh, sorry, I think I’m in a bit of an adrenaline fog and I didn’t sleep last night. I’m trying not to lose focus.” He exhaled deeply. “Okay, the trip to Rainier was a trick to get me to leave my pack vulnerable, and one of my former pack members who apparently hated all of us set up an extermination of the whole pack. I’ve been trying to call you—so has your brother, but he had to get the whole pack to safety and to be counted, so I told him I’d pick you up. I’d almost had an operator break through on the phone, but I figured if you were on the phone, you were safe, and I didn’t want you leaving the house alone.”

Her mouth went dry, and she kept staring at him. Eventually she had to blink, but then she went back to staring at him.

Jordan reached out and shook her shoulder. “Breathe, woman. You’re going to pass out.”

She inhaled deeply. “Wait…so someone is trying to kill your pack?”

“Our pack? Yes. A Lycan named Ross sold us out to the poachers. According to Travis, they were given all our names and addresses, along with notes on the most vulnerable among us. He said he’d get me out of the way for the first wave of attacks—as long as they left killing Dane and me to him.”

“What?” she screeched—in what could only be described as a banshee tone.

Jordan winced.

She cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “I mean…what?” she asked in a more reasonable and less screechy voice.

“Yes, he blamed us for the death of that Lycan—the one I scent-matched with, the one your brother killed.”

She sat back and just kept shaking her head back and forth—it felt like the only reasonable response.

Jordan reached out and ran a hand along her thigh.

“Keep both your hands on the wheel! You’re driving like a maniac!”

He reached out, grabbed her hand, and put it on his thigh. “Okay, but I need to be touching you. I’ve been out of my mind for the last two hours trying to get to you. I kept trying to focus on the pack, but in the end, I just left that to your brother since he had his mate and child right there with him.”

The phone in her other hand started ringing and she answered it. “Dane, sorry, I didn’t realize we had reception.”

“He has you,” Dane said, exhaling slowly. “Tell Jordan everyone—in one way or another—is accounted for.”

“I heard,” Jordan said, his jaw tightened. “We’re about five minutes out. I don’t want to know anything else until I’m there. I need to concentrate on driving.”

“Uhh, he said not to say anything else, he has to concentrate on driving—and, trust me, Dane, he really does. He is driving crazy.”

Dane actually laughed. “Yeah, tell him if he kills you both, that will slow you down significantly.”

A ghost of a smile played on Jordan’s mouth as he slowed down.

“What was that about?” she asked as she hung up.

“Your brother is enjoying throwing every single thing I ever said to him back in my face,” Jordan said. He was only going sixty now—it was still about thirty miles an hour faster than anyone should drive on this road, but it wasn’t the gas pedal straight to the floor as he’d been doing before.

Jordan’s phone started ringing again. “Uhh, it says it’s Travis,” she said.

“Go ahead and answer it.”

“Hey, Travis.”

There was a smile in his voice as he said, “Hey, Dane’s sister and Mrs. Hill.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m guessing you’re answering the phone because Jordan is still driving like a maniac.”

“What’s new?” Jordan asked, his eyes on the road. She kept the phone up to her ear since Jordan didn’t have any problem hearing it anyway.

“He’s not only turned off his cell phone, but he’s disabled it—smashed it or something so that the GPS doesn’t work. We also found a jammer that he must have used to block Colby’s signal so that I thought Colby was off the grid. He might be using something like that again on his cell, but whatever he did, it’s working—the cell phone is a dead end. He knows we’re onto him. He must have figured out when I didn’t respond to his text earlier. Or—he might have seen you gathering in pack members and guessed.”

“Dammit,” Jordan said.

“But there’s more.” Travis paused. And cleared his throat.

She didn’t have to know much about Travis to know that what was coming next couldn’t be good.

“What?” Jordan growled.

“Ross tapped your phone. Your home phone.”

“What!” she and Jordan shouted at the same time.

“That’s how he contacted the poachers. That site your brother found—he got on it. We found out from his search history. Plus, it’s the only thing that makes sense with the information he fed the poachers.”

Jordan’s string of profanity was vivid and colorful, and she’d never heard anyone curse quite so fluently, but all she could think of was that her first brush with dirty talk had spectators. That was a little
too
dirty. “Ew,” she said.

Jordan stopped swearing and looked at her. “I swear I didn’t know. I never would have started this if I’d known.”

“I need a shower. Then I need you to find that guy, whatever his name is, and rip out his throat or at least make him forget all of last night’s conversation. Because…ew.”

“I don’t think we’re all on the same page,” Travis said.

“Travis?” Jordan snarled.

“Yeah.”

“Shut up.”

“Yup.”

Christa looked at Jordan. “Jordan, I said…things.”

“Christa, it’s going to be fine.”

She nodded, but…oh my hell…she’d said
things
. Lots of things. Then, Jordan had said things and… The world looked…sparkly.

“Breathe, Christa,” Jordan said, and she inhaled.

“It’s going to be fine,” both men said at the same time.

“Hey, she’s my wife. Only I’m allowed to say things are going to be fine,” Jordan yelled.