Christian
Christian pulled the truck into the big barn in the center of the Quade ranch. As he’d driven in, he was on the phone with Miranda, who was giving him directions to where they had all gathered.
He glanced in his rearview mirror, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see Ellie, anyway. She was hidden in one of the compartments in the back. Dodger was with her, keeping calm like the good, obedient dog he was.
The barn, as Miranda had called it, was more like a Quonset. It was big enough. They could have run a rodeo inside. On one end, all the trucks were parked. On the other, all the wolves had gathered in the bleachers. It was dark on the side with the vehicles, and he was thankful for that.
Ellie needed it to be dark.
He turned off the truck, careful to leave the keys in the ignition and the door open and did his best to saunter nonchalantly toward the other end of the Quonset. Soon, they would hear his heart pounding, which could be explained away by them having his sister, and hopefully, they wouldn’t think too much of it.
But he couldn’t slow it down. He was worried about Ellie.
She was only human.
And she was his only asset. The only thing the Quades didn’t know about. The only surprise up his sleeve.
The Quades were, as Miranda had promised, all gathered. Looked like the whole pack. There were cowboy hats and boots and jeans of every size and shape and color. Daisy Dukes, Wranglers, and Stetsons, oh my.
“We can’t just leave out the alpha trials,” came a male voice he couldn’t see the source of. Someone on the other side of the bleachers, surrounded by people. “It wasn’t right of you to just make Daniel the alpha.”
“Those filthy Trewitts killed our alpha,” piped up another voice, also male. “What was she supposed to do?”
“We were all unbonded at once, Cal. We all felt it,” said the first voice. Now that Christian had come a little farther into the group, he could see the owner of that voice. A big, black-bearded guy with a red button-up shirt. Probably in his fifties. He was surrounded by men that seemed to share his features.
“If we hadn’t acted fast, we could have lost people to that pain,” said Cal, a lanky cowboy dressed all in black. “We had to drive. Some of us were on the road when it happened.”
Christian vaguely remembered some talk about the Quade alpha dying. Miranda’s hysterical yelling. He wished he knew more about packs and bonds so he could judge just how on-edge to be. But the entire group appeared to be edgy.
Safe to stay on-guard.
“We should still have alpha trials,” Miranda said. She stood in the center of the group, surrounded by a bunch of the black-shirted-black-jeaned crowd of Quade men. “Daniel is only acting as alpha until we can have the trials.”
“Who’s that?” said a female voice. Christian couldn’t see the source, but it sounded young.
Shit. Were there kids in this meeting?
He hadn’t considered that. He didn’t like the idea of putting kids in danger.
But it was too late to call off the plan. He had to stall until Ellie got to Molly. He hoped his gun and the big German Shepherd would be enough to handle the two wolves who had been guarding Molly when he’d left.
It had to be enough.
“Ahhhhhhh.” Miranda drew the word out as her eyes settled onto him. “If it isn’t the Prodigal Wolf.”
“Christian,” Daniel said with a wave. “Come on over here.”
But Daniel was standing too far inside the circle. On the other side of where he’d planned for Ellie to skid in and pick him up on her way out of the barn.
“I’ll stay right here if you don’t mind,” he said, hoping and praying they wouldn’t force him to move. Ellie would keep driving until she saw him. That was the plan. And then drive away. With Molly. Together.
“Fine,” Daniel said, and Christian relaxed. This could work.
“But we need to straighten out the pack stuff before we deal with that,” said Cal, his voice full of impatience.
“Just…” Miranda held up a hand, like she’d shush him. “Christian came all the way—”
“I’m in no rush,” Christian said, butting in. He shrugged and settled his weight on one heel. “Y’all deal with your shit.”
He took a quick breath, waiting to see what the answer would be, and hoping they would play right into his hands. It would make things so easy if they would just cooperate. He would be on the road with the girls he loved in no time flat.
If they would just cooperate.
Ellie
Ellie was pressed down in the back of her own truck, trying to stay out of sight so the Quade boys wouldn’t notice she was back there until they’d all filed into the big barn.
This was the plan.
For her to sneak upstairs above the office while he agreed to the bonding ceremony with another woman. The whole damn thing was about timing. If she didn’t get past the guards, get Molly out fast enough, get to Christian before he… before he said the spell...
Focus.
She gulped and listened through the thin slatted metal door, hiding her and Dodger from the outside. From all the Quades.
Ellie pushed on the door she’d been holding closed on the drive in and peered into the gloom. She could only see the side of another parked pickup truck. No voices. No sign of people. No sign of Christian.
She wriggled slowly, unfolding one leg and shimmying out of the small crate. Her boot touched the concrete with a soft thud. She froze, her heart hammering in her chest like a possessed nail gun on a rampage. Someone was going to hear her.
Christian was depending on her. She could do this. She had to do this.
Breathe.
She pulled her other leg free and moved away from the container, then signed for Dodger to heel and guard. The shepherd snapped to attention like she’d just become the only person alive in his universe. One leap put him on her leg, anticipating her next move. His ears twitched, and his head swayed back and forth, taking in the surroundings but always watching her, too.
“Good boy.” She whispered the words, quietly picked up the gun she’d wrapped in the dirty t-shirt she had worn the previous day and shut the container. Didn’t need that flapping around when she got back to the truck for a getaway.
She peered over the edge of the hood of her truck. Angry voices echoed across the barn, but no one was near the stairs and the office to her right. At least no one was visible. She unwrapped the gun and tossed the shirt onto the bed of her truck.
Ready or not.
Ellie crept from truck to truck, closer and closer to the office door, near the wide, gaping entrance to the barn. For at least a few moments—until she got inside the office—she would be completely visible. She had to go inside and then upstairs. Christian had said Molly was in the last room on the left.
Dodger tensed at her side, and she touched his head carefully to keep him from growling. Ellie gave him the lay flat signal, and they both dropped to the ground behind a couple of barrels.
“Damn Trewitts, man,” a low, gravelly voice bit out only a few yards in front of her. “Sticking their noses where they don’t belong. Ryan’s dead as soon as I get a chance.”
Good boy, she thought, patting her dog’s head. He’d heard them coming when she hadn’t. Ellie steadied herself with one hand flat on the warm concrete. The other squeezed tighter around the grip of the gun. Her sweaty palm made the heavy weapon feel even more awkward. She’d never fired a pistol outside of a gun range. But she’d promised Christian she could do it if she had to, and she could.
“Good luck with that. You’ll rile the VonBrandt alpha if you mess with their friends.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“Well, this pack is more than just you, dumbass. Let’s get over there with the others before Miranda and Daniel decide to do something else without consulting us.” The second male voice was equally as irritated but sounded a little more mentally stable.
Ellie breathed in and out and waited until she could no longer hear their footsteps.
She took a breath and stepped away from the last parked truck. The office door was solid. There were no windows. Just a weather-beaten sign with an arrow pointing to a white door that read OFFICE in worn black-stenciled letters.
There were no men outside the door, so they had to be inside. Worst-case scenario.
Dodger padded along beside her, silent and alert. She signaled him to guard and hold. He would growl if he saw anyone. She could trust him. Her focus was on the door. Getting into the office. She put her hand on the doorknob and tried to turn it. To her surprise, the knob turned.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her breath froze in her chest. But nothing happened. Nobody moved inside, nobody said a word. She looked down. Dodger hadn’t budged an inch. His ears were pricked forward.
Waiting.
Slowly, she released her breath. Slowly, she snapped the knife closed and slid it back into her pocket. Slowly, she raised the gun in front of her and pushed inside.
The large square room was empty. To the right sat a wraparound desk, a tall cabinet, and a computer station. To the left was a dimly lit staircase. Her shoulders relaxed. Her heart slowed just slightly. At least there weren’t any Quade wolves with guns pointed at her.
Yet.
She stepped through the doorway with Dodger and then closed it softly behind her. “Alright, Dodger. Ready?”
Hackles up, he looked up at her with wide, ready eyes, then back at the task in front of him. He’d been trained well. Trained to follow every command, and he was doing perfect work.
She moved to the stairs and took them carefully, hoping nothing creaked too loudly. Dodger’s nails clicked on the wood boards. But everything ahead was still silent. Miraculously, her heart was still in her chest by the time they reached the top landing. She turned around and faced a short hallway with three doors… all on the left.
Her hands were sweaty again. She held the gun up a little higher. Poised. Ready. Her trigger finger on the steel of the barrel. Please don’t make me shoot. Please don’t make me shoot.
She would, though.
For her mate. For herself. For Molly.
She walked forward. Last door on the left. She kept her gun up at chest level and put her hand on the doorknob. The metal was cold beneath the clammy wet of her skin. A shiver ran down her neck, ending with a nauseous feeling that made her stomach turn over in her belly.
She swung the door open.
No yelling.
No armed guards.
Just one frightened teenager in the center of the room tied to a wooden armchair. Molly’s eyes were wide and reddened from crying. Her mouth was gagged with something, and a bandana had been tied tight around her mouth. Her dark hair was mussed, and her clothes were wrinkled. How long had they had her in that chair? How long had they had her period?
Molly stared at her. Then at the gun. Then at Dodger. Then made a muffled shriek.
“Oh, God!” Ellie lowered the gun. “I’m here with Christian. We’re getting you out of here, Molly.”
Ellie took a step forward, and Dodger growled. He moved in front of her, keeping her away from the girl. Molly made another muffled, strange sound and tipped her chin down.
In a circle around Molly was a faint line of purple… the only word for it was smoke. It swirled and slithered and made Ellie’s mouth go dry. What the hell were the Quades doing?
“Dodger back,” she ordered, and he obeyed. She stared at the smoke, and it seemed to stare back, like it could. Like it was alive. “Well, we’re getting you out of here. Smoke or not.”
Molly shook her head and tried to say something.
“I can’t understand you, hon. Just hang tight.” She sidestepped the shepherd and got closer to the ring of gliding purple tendrils. Dodger growled and Molly made a screaming noise deep in her throat.
“I have to try. He would do the same for me.” Ellie stared back at the door and then at the purple boundary around Christian’s sister. “I’m just going to run and knock you out of the ring. It’ll be okay.”
Molly was sobbing again.
Ellie backed up a couple of steps, moved to the side, and then hurled herself at the chair.
Pain blossomed across her body like she’d touched an exposed live wire. Her teeth were clenched, and everything tasted like metal. Air wouldn’t come into her lungs. Her heart stopped in her chest.
She never touched the chair.
Never even got close.