Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tristan stared at Darren. “Now you’re lying. You can’t be Michael’s brother. Andrew is dead.”
Quinn had told him so, and the alpha wouldn’t lie.
Darren’s eyes went wide. “Who told you that name?”
“It doesn’t matter. Andrew’s dead and so is Michael.”
“Not dead,” Darren said softly, his hand going to his neck and the scars there. “But close enough. And I go by Darren now, not Drew. Please, how do you know Michael? How do you know about me?”
“What’s your shifter animal?” Tristan asked.
“Leopard,” Darren said readily. “Michael is an ocelot.” He took a breath, letting it out slowly. “Who sent you here? You weren’t looking for Michael last time we met.”
Tristan took a chance, trusting his gut which told him that Darren’s desperation was real.
“Griffin.”
Darren sagged against the wall. “Finn? He’s alive? He’s okay?”
“He’s been looking for both of you for years. I met him after I escaped the last breeder house. He sent me in here, after you, to find Michael. He thought you were working for people who were trying to hurt him through Michael.”
“I looked for Finn, caught rumors about him here and there but never anything I could track. Michael was easier, we’d been sold together, I knew faces, names, places. He is alive, isn’t he? Please, tell me.”
“He was sold,” Tristan told him. “To the couple he acted as a surrogate for. Glen thought they were celebrities of some sort. A beta called something like Claude. They were involved in gambling. Contact Griffin. You can work together.” He gave the alpha a phone number, Darren scrawling it on a scrap of paper in his hand.
“So, I know my exit strategy, but how exactly do you plan on getting out of here?” Darren asked him.
“They’re coming for me. Griffin’s pack has an alpha who’s compatible with me. They’re posing as clients. They should be here any day now.”
The confusion on Darren’s face turned to concern, and he opened his mouth to speak.
“Hey!” a voice shouted from the other end of the corridor. “What the hell are you doing?”
Darren pulled away immediately, pushing Tristan toward the speaker.
“Caught him wandering out of bounds. Just sending him back to the dormitories.”
The guard stared at them suspiciously. “I’ll escort him back.”
His hand clamped down hard on Tristan’s shoulder as he propelled him down the corridor. Tristan forced himself not to look back.
When they reached his dormitory, the guard stopped to speak with the guard on duty while Tristan hurried to his bed and sat, trying to look harmless. The guards approached him a few minutes later. Tristan stayed still, his gaze on his hands, doing his best to look meek and cowed.
“What were you doing in that corridor by the stairs with that guard?”
“I… I was just walking and I got turned around. I’m sorry.”
“He had his hands on you.”
Damn. They weren’t going to just let this go.
“He asked me where I was going. He sounded angry, I was scared, and I didn’t answer. I tried to run…”
A hand slipped under his chin, forcing his head up. The guards stared down at him, their eyes hard, their gazes scrutinizing. Tristan just hoped he hadn’t messed this up. If he went back into solitary, would it jeopardize his rescue?
The hand released him, the alpha guard grumbling his frustration.
“It’s not like it matters,” the other guard said to him. “This one’s number is up. Got a client coming tomorrow morning and everything. Besides, nothing happened.”
There was a pause before the alpha’s hand slipped to the back of Tristan’s neck, squeezing hard. The pain had him gasping and biting back a cry of pain. The guard tightened his hold, and Tristan did cry out, unable to keep his silence.
“No more wandering,” the guard growled. “You eat, you sleep, you walk with your dorm buddies. I see you where you’re not supposed to be, and you won’t see daylight for a month.”
He let go, releasing his tight grip on the nape of Tristan’s neck, and the omega gasped in relief even as little echoes of pain left him shuddering. A sob escaped him as the guard’s footsteps faded into the distance.
He could feel the eyes of the other omegas on him but no one spoke, no one moved. Tristan turned, curling up on the bed and hiding his face so they couldn’t see the relief in his eyes. Quinn was coming for him. By tomorrow, they’d be riding into the sunset.
At dinner that evening, there was a constant buzz of gossip across the room as they ate. Tristan glanced around to see if Darren was one of the guards but there was no sign of him.
“Don’t bother,” Simon whispered into his ear. “They’ve moved him outside. That’s what they do when they think the guards are getting too close to us. He’ll be out there for a few weeks then they’ll rotate him back inside again. Any more trouble and they’ll just get rid of him.”
Tristan hid his disappointment, knowing Simon would misinterpret it. He’d hoped to talk to Darren again, convince him to make contact with Griffin and work together to find Michael. Otherwise, he might disappear again.
“What the guard said earlier, about my number being up,” he said, changing the subject. “Does that mean…”
“You’ve been matched with a compatible client,” Simon said grimly.
“So soon?”
“They’ve got a database of prospective clients or so the rumors say. They must have been waiting for you.”
He faked nervousness, swallowing hard, his hand clutching reflexively at the material of his pants leg.
“Look, don’t sweat it. They give you the magic juice to make your body thinks it’s in heat. That helps a lot. And they’ve got really good success rates. Most fall pregnant the first time, so it’s once and then you’re untouchable for a whole year between the pregnancy and the recovery. It’s not so bad as all that. Plus you get more food when you’re expecting.”
Simon patted him on the back, turning to talk to the omega on the other side of him. Tristan played with the food in front of him, pushing it around the plate. In truth, he was anxious. But for all the right reasons. He couldn’t wait to see Quinn again. Couldn’t wait to get out of there and back to Bobby and the others. One more night and he’d be free.
Hours later and Quinn’s frustration was only growing. They hadn’t made any progress, hadn’t moved any further in their plan to free Tristan.
“We need to get him out of there,” he insisted for the dozenth time. “And I don’t care how we do it.”
Griffin stared back at him impassively.
“You will care when we bring those packs right to our door. When this place is torn down and all of us with it. We have to tread carefully, Quinn. Or we won’t save Tristan and we’ll put all our lives in danger.”
“I don’t care. We put Tristan in there, it’s our responsibility to get him out. If you won’t act, then I will.”
He went for the door, but Ronan moved to stand in front of it, blocking his way.
“Ro,” he said, pleading with his brother. “I can’t leave him there. I know it’s risky, I know these guys are big players who could stomp on us if they wanted to, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing while Tristan is-”
He couldn’t even say the words.
“You’re right,” Ronan said, surprising him. “We can’t leave him there. But Griffin is also right. We can’t just arrive there and push our way in, charging about like a bull in a china shop. We need to be quiet, subtle. They need to barely know we’ve been there and believe it’s not worth their while to come after us.”
“I’m not waiting here while we come up with the perfect plan.”
“No,” Ronan agreed. “Waiting here is not a good plan. We’ll need to act soon and act quickly. I propose we get on the road and get over to the breeder house, so we’ll be right where we need to be when it’s time to move.”
“Good, then let’s go.”
He glanced back at Griffin, surprised that the omega was already on his feet, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I agree. We can’t rescue anyone from here. We’ll brainstorm while we travel, work out a way to get Tristan and Michael, if he’s there, out safely.”
Quinn stopped by his rooms to grab a change of clothes, then went out to the car. Beau was waiting out there.
“You’re coming?” he asked.
The alpha shrugged. “If it means a lot to Griffin, it means a lot to me. We’ll get Tristan back, Quinn. Even if we have to fight our way in.”
“We’re not supposed to be drawing fire down on our heads.”
Beau grinned. “Fight our way in quietly,” he corrected.
“Sounds like my kind of fight,” Griffin said as he stepped outside. “The kind where the other side doesn’t know they’re under attack until it’s too late.”
Ronan arrived and insisted on driving, leaving Quinn in the passenger seat. They took two cars, Beau driving the second.
They were an hour into the journey when Quinn’s phone rang.
“Who is it?” Ronan asked.
“Blocked number.” But they were calling the number he’d given to Tristan.
“Hello?”
“Is this Quinn?” the voice on the other end of the line asked.
“Yeah. Who’s this?”
There was a moment of silence before it was broken. “I’m Darren. Tristan asked me to pass on a message to Griffin. Michael’s alive, but he’s not in the house.”
Quinn glanced at Ronan, confirming that his brother had heard everything he had. Ronan nodded, already pulling in to the side of the road.
“Good to know. Did Tristan find out where exactly Michael is?”
There was another pause, and Quinn started to wonder if he’d scared the alpha off.
“No. Just a name. A beta called Claude. And some connection to gambling”
Ronan’s frowned in confusion. “Claude? Gambling?” he mouthed. Quinn just shrugged.
“Well, that’s better than nothing,” he said. “We can work with that. Is Tristan okay?”
“For now,” Darren said. “But I’d hurry if I were you.”
“Yeah, we’ve run into a snag. We had a plan to get Tristan out but-”
“You were pipped to the post by another client, I know. But he doesn’t. He thinks you’re coming for him. He’s got no idea some other alpha is coming to breed with him tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Uh-huh. Morning time.”
“We’ll be there by tonight, but we don’t have a way in. Is there anything you can do to help? We’ll get both of you out of there.”
Another pause and Quinn could feel Darren’s reluctance. The car door opened as Ronan stepped out, Griffin speaking to him.
“Who is that?” Darren asked.
Quinn had been taken aback by the turning of the tables, but if Tristan had trusted Darren enough to give him Quinn’s name and number, then Quinn had to show a bit of trust too.
“That’s Griffin. Did Tristan tell you about him?”
Darren didn’t answer that.
“Be at the back gate of the house at nine a.m. tomorrow. In a white delivery truck. You’ll have to steal it. It belongs to Greenhaven’s grocery store. They’re making a delivery.”
Darren had just handed them a plan, complete with ruse and timing.
“Won’t they realize we’re not their usual delivery guys?”
“Leave that to me,” Darren said. “Just be here. Nine a.m.”
The call cut off abruptly, but they had everything they needed.