Pact of the Pack

by Deidre Huesmann

  “I’ll go catch up with Jackson,” she said.

  Aaron nodded, glancing only to be sure she made it out of sight with zero issues. Then he returned his attention to the papers the clerk was handing him.

  Eventually, much to the childrens’ collective relief, he paid and left. Seritta stretched and sighed loudly as they stepped into the surprisingly cool air outside. Autumn was diving toward winter in Nevada. Their warm days were numbered.

  Which might aid Rachael’s chances just a little more. Nevada’s summer and fall were not ideal, but winter was tolerable for a fevered person used to the Pacific Northwest—when they were going through a lycan infection, at least.

  Outside, Aaron led the kids down a crowded sidewalk. Once Jackson dropped Eva, Rudy, and Rachael off at their new place—discretely, of course—he was to round back and grab them from a nearby convenience store. It should have been smooth and simple.

  But for all he tried, Aaron could never seem to achieve that.

  As soon as they stepped through the sliding doors, Seritta’s hackles rose. She growled, too low for humans to hear, but loud enough for lycans. He looked to her sharply, and she hissed, “Cindy.”

  Aaron couldn’t smell any lycans, but he didn’t question her. Instead he told them to turn and go. They would have to meet Jackson elsewhere, somehow.

  They hardly got a block away before they were attacked.

  The scene was absolute chaos. Humans might have let it go if it was just Aaron, but both Seritta and Nathan were grabbed as well. Shouting commenced. Aaron drove an elbow into the woman idiotic enough to grab him, and then dove toward a teenage girl trying to throttle Ana Sofia. The little girl fought viciously, screaming, kicking, and biting every chance she had. Blood spattered to the pavement, and somebody howled.

  Aaron knocked the girl gripping Ana Sofia out cold with one knuckled strike to her temple. She would only be out a moment, but that was long enough.

  Then, sparing a glance to ensure the little girl could pick herself up, he spun to look for his brother. Before he could locate him, a man he recalled to be Vahn sucker-punched him and knocked him to the ground. While his face hurt, the strike enraged Aaron more than anything. He moved with inhuman speed, gripping Vahn by the arm and tossing him into the nearest solid surface—which just happened to be a thick, shatter-proof store window. Vahn bounced off it and hit the sidewalk face-first.

  Ana Sofia leapt into the air and attached herself to the back of a teenager with short sandy hair. She bit her shoulder and the woman cursed, bucking to toss Ana Sofia off. It worked, but it also freed Seritta from beneath her.

  Then Seritta screamed.

  “Uncle Ron, they took Nate!”

  By now humans were entering the fray; so incredibly stupid, but Vahn and the other woman finally appeared to realize where they were. Vahn shouted to his partner and they jostled through the crowd, leaving Aaron, Seritta, and Ana Sofia behind.

  Nathan was nowhere to be seen, and his smell had been swallowed up by the thick throng of humans descending on the scene. Aaron’s blood crystallized and a terrible chill swept over him.

  Sirens wailed. Somebody must have called in a kidnapping. Aaron drew Ana Sofia protectively into his arms and stood, murmuring into her ear as though soothing her. But what he said was, “They took your cousin, Nate. He is my son. I am your uncle Ronnie. You are Joyce, and Seritta is Paisley. We were on our way to visit your aunt in the hospital. Do you understand?”

  Ana Sofia hiccupped in genuine grief. But she nodded. Aaron knelt to the ground and Seritta immediately ran to him as though she knew him well. She threw her arms around them both, whimpering about “Nate.” Aaron whispered the same instructions to her.

  So far the girls were reacting appropriately, but the real test was for the police. While some might be doltish and crude, so many more were sharp, intelligent, and trained to catch people in lies.

  The true test of their acting was about to begin—and it was very possible Nathan’s life depended on it.

  Chapter Eight

  Dreadful horror woke Rachael. This time there was no doubt that she opened her eyes to reality. The room she found herself in was foreign and strange. Though she dimly knew it wasn’t Holden’s basement, she felt the same awful suffocation. She gasped and pulled at the cloth around her throat until fabric tore. Black buttons flew into the air and she couldn’t get out of the constricting material quick enough.

  It felt like hours before large hands intruded in her view. Rachael didn’t know what they were trying to stop her from doing, just that they were in her way and she was scared out of her mind.

  Distantly she heard her name being said over and over, but she couldn’t place the voice. She didn’t even know if it was male or female, old or young. For all she knew it was the ghost of her mother or Vera, and they were angrier than she thought.

  Rachael shrieked again. She struck out with rigid, curled fingers. Demonic cursing followed her attack, and she was thrown back down to something soft.

  Through her haze came a memory stark as a full moon in a black midnight sky: Holden pinning Laelia beneath him, the young woman’s legs thrown into the hair, her panties shoved into her mouth, and Holden was going at her with furious abandon.

  Then an unwanted ache came unbidden to Rachael’s lower belly, and she burst into tears. How could she react this way? Was even the mere memory going to haunt her forever? Why wouldn’t her body just react with revulsion instead? Why?

  The fight went out of her then and she collapsed in wracking sobs. The grip pinning her down released and she curled into a ball.

  Rachael didn’t know how long she endured the replay in her mind, or when it finally ebbed to nothing. She even began to doubt any of that had happened. The brief moment of clarity upon waking was gone, and all she had left was confusion.

  Ͼ

  Jackson sunk low in his seat, barely noticing his wife’s attempt to comfort him with a hug. He stared bleakly at his sister on her small twin mattress and wondered what she had just seen to make her react so horribly to his touch.

  As children they’d gotten along well, and as teenagers they’d avoided each other. But once Jackson became a lycan they had each made considerable effort to change, and their sibling connection had forged deeper and stronger.

  He wasn’t so far away from his experience during the infection that Jackson wondered what was wrong with her. He knew. But what troubled him was that she had reacted with incredible violence. Rachael had torn at Aaron’s shirt and then couldn’t seem to stop, scratching herself until she bled. Then when Jackson tried to calm her, she screamed and tried to scratch him. And she might have succeeded, had Eva not intervened and taken a good gouging to her own cheek.

  Jackson glanced at his wife and winced. “Sorry about that, hon,” he said quietly.

  Eva shook her head. The long, bloody line down her face had since been cleaned, and it looked as though it would heal within a day or two. “I’ll be fine.”

  He reached up and took her slender hand in his massive, bear-like one and squeezed. Eva didn’t smile but her eyes softened. She kissed his cheek.

  With a sigh, Jackson looked back to Rachael. “I don’t get it. I mean, I know I had issues when I was infected, but this is just....”

  Eva didn’t respond, instead hugging him tighter.

  In the corner of the small room they had designated Rachael’s there slumbered a furry black cub. Blue and white blankets had been folded and tucked into a small box, which would do so long as Rudy remained in wolf form. But they needed a crib, or at least a bassinet. Jackson didn’t know the first thing about what an infant required, but from what Eva said, Seritta’s bag held more than enough supplies for the next few days. All they lacked was a proper place for human-Rudy to sleep.

  Jackson was a little unnerved by the situation. He and Eva had never wholly agreed on whether or not to start a family. While her arguments swayed him in the moment, he experienced hesitation after waking
up the next morning. He could tell her patience was beginning to wear thin.

  Part of him hoped that Rudy stuck around just long enough for her to realize how difficult it would be for them. But then Jackson felt guilty for wishing unhappiness on his wife. He kept his opinions to himself on that subject.

  Eventually, though, they would have to talk about it. He wasn’t looking forward to it. For the time being, at least, Eva agreed their debate could wait until Rachael came through.

  If she did at all.

  Eva’s voice startled him out of his gloomy thoughts. “It’s about time to pick up Aaron.”

  Jackson nodded and reluctantly stood. “You gonna be okay with her and the baby alone?”

  His wife shrugged.

  That was about the same response he would have had, he supposed. Jackson kissed Eva before casting one last glance at his sister. In spite of her grey complexion, Rachael appeared peaceful as she slept. With the covers hiding the scratches she’d given herself, she could have been any human with a bad flu.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised. “Shouldn’t take me more than an hour.”

  “You have 45 minutes,” was Eva’s simple response.

  Jackson cracked a smile.

  As he left he was once again impressed by the house Aaron had chosen. It was small and compact, with four bedrooms in a perfect, symmetrical square down one hallway. The master bedroom was only perhaps a few square feet bigger than the others, and each set of two were connected by either a doorway or small door. Down the hall there was a coat closet, a small bathroom, and then it opened into the kitchen-slash-living room with a tiny corner for a washer and dryer. The entire space was barely 1,100 square feet. It was cramped, tiny, and uncomfortable.

  But it was safe. The walls were incredibly thick inside, while layered with cement and brick outside. The yard was almost nonexistent and led to a tiny driveway where only one car could fit. No garage, no porch, not even an overhang.

  The house was in the center of the city, surrounded by people, even if they were largely of the unpleasant variety. It had taken hours for Aaron to find the place, but find it he had. How he had managed such speedy payment to procure it, Jackson was uncertain—but that was Aaron’s M.O., and he refused to elaborate on it. Jackson was often unsure if that was to keep the pack in the dark or keep the dark away from the pack.

  He hurried down the short drive to unlock the gate. After he pulled the van out, he only stepped out to ensure it was locked again, and then he drove off toward the convenience store they were supposed to meet at.

  Nobody was there. He could tell just looking in that his pack had either never made it or had left in a hurry.

  With a curse, Jackson kept driving. He pulled out his phone to call his wife, and then stopped short.

  Seven missed calls. All from Aaron.

  “Fuck me,” he muttered.

  Jackson quickly called his alpha back and put him on speaker so he could keep both hands on the steering wheel. His phone barely finished the second ring before Aaron picked up.

  “Somebody better be dead, Jackson, for you to ignore my calls,” snarled Aaron.

  Jackson winced. “Sorry, Boss. RayRay had an episode.”

  “Eva was indisposed as well?”

  He was pissed. Jackson blinked in surprise, and then said, “When I say she had an episode, I mean she was clawing herself until she bled. We both kinda took the brunt of it until she calmed down.”

  Aaron went quiet for a moment. When his voice came through again, it was notably calmer, though he still sounded angry. “Nathan has been taken.”

  “What? How?”

  “Ambush. Olivia’s pack, though not by Olivia herself.”

  Jackson cursed. “Well, where are you? What do you want me to do?”

  “Pick us up. We shall go from there.” Aaron’s clipped tone rattled off an address, and then directions how to reach them from the original pickup point. Jackson wasted no time. In spite of Reno’s traffic, he drove recklessly, weaving between cars and rushing yellow lights.

  When he finally came to a stop, it was outside the Reno Police Station. His heart sank.

  Within minutes Aaron exited the building with Seritta and Ana Sofia in tow. The three climbed into the van. Before Aaron buckled in, he said, “Drive.”

  Jackson obeyed.

  On their way back to the house, Aaron curtly explained what had happened. Jackson flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, silently seething throughout the tale. While he wouldn’t call himself especially close to Nathan—or Ana Sofia, for that matter—they were still of the same pack. They were more family to him than most of his blood-born relatives, Rachael aside.

  These bastards had kidnapped his family. Nathan might be small, irritating, and mouthy, but he was a good kid and genuinely loved his pack. If the anger he felt heated his blood, Jackson could only imagine how enraged Aaron was. Nathan was not just of his pack; he was blood, and had been with Aaron the longest by two damned centuries. If Aaron were forced to choose between Nathan and the rest of his pack—even Rachael—Jackson personally had no doubt Aaron would go with his brother.

  It didn’t bother him. And even if it did, that another pack dared to snatch one of their own was far more offensive.

  Jackson pulled up to the house. Without asking, Seritta scrambled out of the van to open up the gate—and hurry inside without another glance back. She really was protective of that baby, thought Jackson ruefully.

  Once he parked, Jackson turned to his alpha and said, “So, what next? We hunt them down?”

  “No,” said Aaron quietly. He stared ahead, rigidly unmoving. “There is a reason they took him instead of one of the others. Ana Sofia would have been easier to take down, Seritta was their former packmate and a more likely target, and yet they chose Nathan. I highly doubt a revenge-kill would be their end goal. They want something from us.” His mouth pulled grimly. “They will be in contact.”

  “But we could surprise them,” pointed out Jackson. “Take them down quick and get Nathan back.”

  Aaron didn’t look at him. Instead he said, “Ana Sofia, go inside.”

  Jackson had almost forgotten about the little girl in the back seat. She said nothing in response, instead opening the sliding door and climbing out before slamming it shut with her not-inconsiderable strength.

  Once it was clear she was safely indoors, Aaron said, “We do not know where they are, how many they are, what their defenses may be, and in a city this size, finding all of this judiciously is more than difficult enough without the extra baggage we have so far.” He scowled. “Ana Sofia and Seritta are strong, but still children, particularly compared to Nathan. Sending either you or Eva alone is a suicide mission. As much as I want to rip every head from each miserable neck, I cannot afford to leave a pack this young without an alpha.”

  Surprised at his candor, Jackson said, “But if anyone can take them—”

  “At worst, it is a battle of eleven-to-one. Taking out the children left, it is still nine-to-one.” Aaron’s mouth twitched. “I am good. But no lycan is that good.”

  “So I’ll go with you. Eva can watch after the kids and Rachael.”

  One dark eyebrow rose. “And a baby?”

  Jackson shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, Seritta can help.”

  Aaron grimaced. “It is commendable she found us on her own and managed to reach us safely, but that does not speak to her ability to defend the fortress, so to speak.”

  The fortress. Jackson allowed himself a faint smile at that, thinking it was cute to think of this tiny one-story house as a castle to be defended. But then his humor vanished. “That baby complicates everything.”

  “As does Rachael’s infection,” agreed Aaron dourly. Jackson stole a glance at his alpha. While the man was clearly annoyed, there was still that affectionate glimmer in his eyes when he spoke of Jackson’s sister. No matter how weird it was, Jackson felt some small measure of comfort knowing Rachael also had hi
m to rely on.

  “So we wait,” said Jackson quietly. “But what if they do something to him first?”

  “They will not.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because,” answered Aaron with a cold smile. “I have been doing this for many years. This is not our first kidnapping.”

  “Of Nathan?”

  “In general.”

  A sigh heaved Jackson’s shoulders. He trusted Aaron, but that didn’t mean he felt good about any of this. The stakes were high, and their pack had more cards against them than ever. Both packs played heavy hands, and he had to wonder if they were conspiring together once more.

  But even if they were, it didn’t matter. Aaron was right. For the moment they were outgunned and outnumbered.

  Jackson shook his head. “Okay. We wait.”

  “And,” added Aaron softly. “We prepare.”

  Chapter Nine

  Nathan awoke in a cold, cramped cage.

  Even before his eyes fluttered open he cursed himself. He’d screwed up, big-time. He’d been too busy trying to get to Ana Sofia to notice the woman coming at him until it was too late. She’d knocked him down to the pavement and then, before he could lash back, had grabbed him by the head and slammed it to the ground. He hadn’t blacked out for more than a few seconds, but it had apparently been enough for her to grab him and run off.

  A terrible, sickening daze had overtaken him. She’d shoved him into the open driver’s side door of a car until he crumpled into the passenger seat. Then, without even buckling her seatbelt, she’d driven off.

  Nathan had tried attacking her in the vehicle, but the woman had been an astounding multi-tasker. She’d kept one hand on the steering wheel while using her other to keep him at bay until she could pull off somewhere private. Then a scuffle had ensued. She’d come prepared, and soon enough Nathan found himself in cuffs with a black, breathable hood over his head and tied tight around his neck.