by Eve Langlais
“I’ll help you to eat them, but first we have to find the bastards.”
“We’ve already got a team of FUC agents on their trail. They wouldn’t take me. Said they were worried I’d go grizzly or something in public.” Spoken with a hint of fang and fur.
“Will you?”
“Most definitely. They took my honeys.” Which sounded like a perfectly reasonable answer to Jakob. He was feeling kind of rumbly himself.
“We have to get them back.”
“I would if we could find them. The van they tossed them in was stolen and abandoned a mile away from the mall.”
“Any clues in it?”
“No.” Chase tucked his hands behind his back. “They set it on fire before they abandoned it.”
“Do we have a description of their kidnappers?”
Again, Chase shook his head. “Just some crappy video footage.”
“Can I see?”
Jakob watched the attack in the store several times. The way the kidnappers surprised both Miranda and Maisy, as if the women never smelled them coming. But it was the faces of two of them that made him realize who was behind it.
“This was my mother’s doing.” Once more, she’d sent her thugs to sedate and abduct, but this time, she’d gone too far. Kidnapping children, a pregnant woman, and his Maisy.
She must be getting desperate or arrogant to strike so boldly. Worse, they probably didn’t have much time before she did something to them. If she was willing to change her own son, then there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do.
“You said it seemed like they knew where to find our girls. Does the Academy have a traitor?”
Chase’s expression turned grim. “If we do, I’ll eat them.”
“First we have to figure out who it is.”
“How? We don’t have time to waste.”
A good point. How to draw out the traitor and use them to track down his mother?
The idea hit him like a left hook from his brother Jackson. “I have an idea.”
They were still arguing as they entered the main building.
“The Academy is on lockdown. How many times do I have to say no one in or out?” Chase bellowed.
“I’m not a kid. You cannot tell me what to do,” Jakob hollered back, planting himself in the Academy’s entrance. They had an audience, but that didn’t stop his fight with Chase.
“You’re a student here.”
“Consider this me dropping out.”
“If you go, you won’t be allowed back,” Chase threatened as Jakob walked out the door.
“Fine!”
“Fine!” Chase echoed.
Jakob had the guy in the security booth at the gate call him a taxi, the same guy in the green suit that had been manning it when he arrived. Could he be the one telling the enemy their movements?
He sent Chase a text. The taxi first took him to the mall where Maisy was taken. Jakob walked the length of it before entering the store that hadn’t yet closed for the night. He could see the salesperson eyeballing him, probably pegging him for a pedophile given how he kept sniffing around the racks. Before she could call the cops, he left and made his way to where the vehicle that had transported them was abandoned and burned. The frame of it had already been removed, leaving behind only a scorch march. He knelt by it and ran his fingers through the greasy remains on the ground.
Then off he went to get drunk at the nearest bar he could find. It wasn’t exactly his style with its flashing techno colors and pulsating beat, but the tequila was good, especially when chugged by the bottle. He sent a few messages, telling people where he was in case they heard anything. Even sent one to the guy at the gate warning him he’d be back late.
As they neared closing time, he sat slumped on the bar, no closer to finding Maisy and Peach, piles of empty glasses in front of him, wondering if he’d miscalculated his worth. He could have sworn eyes had followed him as he retraced Maze and Peach’s steps. Thought for sure he’d—
Even through the miasma of tequila wafting from his shirt where he’d spilled it, he smelled her. He peeled open an eye and managed a not-too-slurred, “Hallo, Mummy.”
13
Backdoor FUC
In a nearby van with blacked-out windows…
“They took the bait!” Everett announced, throwing his hands in the air. The wolf shifter, former FUC agent, and former PI had taken a temporary teaching position at the Academy with his pregnant wife. Teaching in a classroom wasn’t his forte. He much preferred being out in the field, playing with gadgets, outsmarting folks, and getting the goods.
Like now. The small microphone pinned inside Jakob’s shirt let them hear everything being said. Through it, they heard Mother Q snap, “Pulse him just in case he’s carrying a bug.”
Bzzt. The microphone went dead, but they’d expected that possibility.
The backup drone sat atop an electrical pole outside and had its camera trained on the entrance to the bar. Everett and Chase watched via a drone feed as Mother Q led a very drunk Jakob out of the bar. Everett tapped on his keyboard, sending a message to the strike team.
They had a plan, concocted by Jakob, and then implemented as quickly as they could. It wasn’t quick enough for a certain bear.
“Screw waiting. Let’s go get my honeys!” Chase slammed his fist into his palm.
Having worked for years as a PI, Everett knew better than to rush in. “Patience, my friend. Stick to the plan. We can’t rush in. Not until Mother Q leads us to her secret lair.”
“It’s taking too long,” Chase grumbled. “I still say my idea was better.”
The usually calm and measured bear had suggested nabbing Mother Q and torturing her for information. Everett might not approve of the woman, but he did have some lines he wouldn’t cross.
“Abducting her is hasty. What if she triggers an alarm that does something to her prisoners? If we don’t know where they are, we might not arrive in time.”
“I hate waiting!” Chase was barely coherent, worry for his mate and child making him lose his grip on his beast.
“Waiting sucks,” Everett agreed. “But it shouldn’t be much longer now.” He pointed to the screen. “Mother Q took Jakob.”
“And? What if she doesn’t take him to the same place as my honeys?”
That was the one major flaw in their plan. They couldn’t be sure what Mother Q would do, yet they had no other option. If she didn’t lead them to the right place, then they might have to explore Chase’s more violent idea.
“We’ll find them,” Everett replied. They had to because he knew Miranda and little Kelly. Too energetic by far, but good people. Everyone at the Academy was the very best, and this was where he and Dawn would have their first child. It was something that had to be protected.
“Where is the strike team?” Chase muttered.
“They’re on their way.” Everett pointed to an incoming transmission. “ETA less than fifteen minutes.”
“Too long.”
“We’ve almost got them, my friend. So sit down, dive into that box of honey cruller donuts, and in no time at all, the strike team will be taking Mother Q into custody and freeing everyone she’s taken captive.”
“Your optimism is annoying.”
“Would it help if I said I am planning a severe beating to anyone who dares harm Miranda and Kelly?”
“I’ll eat them,” Chase exclaimed with a hint of muzzle and fang.
“Check this out.” Everett pointed to a blinking blip on the screen. A tracker, embedded inside Jakob, built to withstand most handheld electrical disruptors. It gave out a steady signal they could follow. “Looks like they’re heading our way. Shall we parallel their route?” Everett asked, swiveling in his seat.
“I’m driving.” Chase didn’t wait for assent as he rocked through the van, heading for the front.
“Sounds like a plan. Let me send the signal to our dashboard GPS.” A few swipes of his mouse and their route was being calculated to stay withi
n a mile of their subject. It wouldn’t do to be spotted.
Mother Q and her henchmen didn’t try to obfuscate their path. They drove straight to a small airstrip with a single hangar. A helicopter sat on the runway, blades whirring, prepped to leave.
“Shit. They’re taking a chopper,” Chase stated, taking his eyes off the road to stare past the chain-link fence as they drove by.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Everett said, even as Mother Q’s car drove right up to the heli and stopped, spilling its occupants.
“They’re getting away!” Chase yelled, slamming his foot down on the gas hard enough that the van swerved.
“Don’t go berserk,” Everett yelled, hands braced on the dash.
But Chase—more bear than man in that moment—seethed. His big hairy hands gripped the steering wheel so tight it twisted.
“Slow down.”
Rather than brake to take the corner, Chase spun the vehicle and sent them careening on two wheels.
Everett closed his eyes and didn’t open them again until the thump indicated they’d settled back on pavement and not upside down.
What he saw had him exclaiming, “Don’t ram it!”
“They can’t leave.” The words were barely recognizable amidst the gruff.
Everett once more closed his eyes and braced for impact while hoping that FUC hadn’t skimped on the extras. Let there be airbags.
Whup. Whup. He could hear the spinning of the blades over the whine of the engine.
Any second now. Any—
Screech. He was tossed around as a vigorous brake saw them slowing rapidly and spinning. When they stopped moving, he saw the blinking lights of a helicopter lifting into the sky.
“Too late!” Chase slammed the steering wheel, which finally collapsed from the abuse.
“Don’t give up yet.”
Grabbing his phone, Everett dialed a secure line.
It rang once and then clicked, but no one said anything.
“Strike Team Bounce, this is Howling Mobile HQ. Target has just departed in a helicopter. Will attempt to follow from the ground.”
“Don’t worry, HMHQ. We are already on their tail. I’ve got it from here,” announced the strike team commander.
Everett hung up and reached over to pat Chase, who was slumped, his head pressed to the wrecked steering wheel.
“I broke our ride. We have no way of getting there,” Chase moaned.
“Says who?” Emmett pulled out a tablet. “I requested this van for a reason. It’s been modified to be able to handle nondrivers.” He held out his device. “Auto pilot.” The van shifted into motion, and Chase lifted his head.
“You mean…”
“We are going to find your honeys.”
Meanwhile, back at the Academy, the drama was unfolding for a trusted roomful. They watched as the strike team fed a live video of their arrival, their bodies rappelling out of the helicopter. Some not going far, just the rooftop of the building where they infiltrated from above. Others went to ground, crouched and moving off in a preplanned synchronization.
When the explosives went off, creating a giant hole in the wall of the modern building, the watching shifters cheered!
“FUC! FUC! FUC!”
“FUC is gonna give it to them.”
“All for FUC, FUC for all.”
“Why is it everyone neglects ASS?” shouted an irritated voice.
The chattering tapered off as smoke and dust particles obscured the video feed, but they could hear gunfire and yelling, the violence of it chilling.
The room full of cryptids then did something very human. They prayed.
14
Maisy woke in a cage and did her best to not panic. That proved harder than expected when she realized Peach wasn’t with her. Her first impulse? Run for the bars and grab them.
Zap. The jolt of electricity sent her flying, and she hit the floor hard on her ass. She lay there and groaned, waiting for her body to stop tingling.
She didn’t need to touch her hair to know it currently stood in a wild halo from her head, an effect she’d spent hours trying to achieve. The next time she needed to do her hair, she’d have to try sticking her finger in a socket. If there was a next time…
She sat up and, rather than rush the bars, tried to pay attention to what was around her.
Cages, for starters. Eight she counted, and only two without an occupant. Miranda was in the one directly across from her, lying on her side, a hand cradling her belly, her eyes closed.
And then they weren’t.
Wide green eyes stared, and Miranda’s mouth opened with a screeched, “Oh heck no!”
The tiny blonde woman vaulted to her feet, but before she could make the same mistake, Maisy hollered, “Don’t touch the bars! They’re electrified.”
The warning halted Miranda. Seething through her nostrils, Miranda stood in front of them, fists clenched, expression wild. “Where’s my Kelly?”
“I don’t know. Peach is missing, too.” She stood and noticed some of the other occupants eyeing them. Except for the sleeping man in the next cell over. Tom snorted away on the floor.
“This is humiliating,” Miranda declared. “Captured like some simple forest creature. Ugh.”
Maisy’s jaw hitched as she recalled how oblivious she and Miranda had been to the danger.
For some reason, she’d thought herself safe, the incident at the airport more than a week old. Mother Q a continent away. And Maisy had no enemies. She’d agreed to go shopping and found herself in a children’s clothing store, the most benign of places. Peach, being Peach, raced in and out of the racks with an accomplice for once. Little Kelly, who was only a year younger, chortled as she kept up with her, their laughter a clarion that signaled their location.
She and Miranda kept an eye out as they browsed clothes. Peach would need some things if she was sticking around, which seemed most likely. Jakob had a point. Sending her back would just expose her to danger. Might as well have her close by.
They weren’t alone in the store. A handful of other women shopped, and in retrospect, Maisy should have wondered that not one had a child with her. It didn’t help her feeble sense of smell never caught a hint of anything untoward. She felt at ease knowing they had Tom loitering just outside the entrance.
Miranda certainly didn’t seem nervous. So when Maisy heard her daughter squeak, her first thought wasn’t danger. Until she saw Peach dangling from the grip of a lady who mouthed, “Don’t move.”
Seeing the giant needle pressed against Peach’s skin, she froze. Kelly didn’t.
“No. No hurt my friend.” The little girl slammed into the stranger holding Peach, and the needle went in. Peach’s eyes widened in panic, and then she was a bundle of striped fur, snarling and snapping.
The woman holding her cursed and dropped Peach, who hit the floor on four paws. The cub hissed and swiped at a leg.
“Run, Peach!”
For a moment, she thought her daughter would keep trying to fight, but she obeyed and ran. Kelly went to follow, but the stranger acted fast, yanking a net from her pocket and dropping it over the child, tangling her limbs.
As Maisy ran to help, she heard Miranda snarl, “Get your hands away from my honey baby, or I will tear your head off and shove it where the sun don’t shine!”
Doubtful, given Miranda couldn’t shift while pregnant. But Maisy could. Problem was, there was a very human salesperson watching the unfolding drama. She already had a phone to her ear, meaning Maisy had to act fast.
Before she could reach Kelly, a striped bundle flew out of the clothes and hit the needle-wielding woman, knocking her over, but that was only one down. The others in the store were all moving toward Maisy and the kids. Poor Kelly still struggled to free herself from the net, and Peach, a four-legged tiger cub, wavered on her feet as the drug took effect.
A quick glance back showed Miranda grappling with another assailant and having a hard time getting a grip with her pregnant
belly in the way.
Maisy moved to help her, digging her hand into a pocket and emerging with a sachet of powder. She spilled some into her palm and moved behind Miranda’s assailant, slapping her hand over the woman’s mouth and nose. The assailant shut her mouth, knowing better than to inhale any of the dust; however, the need to breathe eventually proved too strong. The woman’s lips parted to suck for air, even as her nostrils flexed. Only then did Maisy remove her hand, no need for it anymore, given her target choked and sputtered as she spun away from her.
Miranda grabbed hold of her as she dashed past. “The girls!”
Turning to follow, she saw the other two women moving in on the children, Kelly standing guard over her sleeping friend, her teeth looking longer and her tufted ears peeping through her hair.
Which was when Tom chose to enter, hands tucked behind his back. “Excuse me, ladies.”
The first one to turn and look got a taser to the chest. She hit the ground, but the other one ignored the threat Tom posed and grabbed Kelly in a headlock.
Miranda uttered a primal scream that sent the human salesgirl ducking behind the counter.
The woman holding Kelly smirked. “Yell all you like. I have your child, and if you want her to live, then place your hands behind your head and come with us quietly.”
With a glare that promised death, Miranda sank to her knees, hands laced behind her head, and Maisy followed suit. Surely, they would find a way out of this.
She wanted to hold on to that hope, but as a needle approached her, all she could think of was what had happened to Jakob. Would she wake up as someone else?
Staring at Peach, being held by a stranger, in danger, she could only bow her head.
Which was why she’d woken up in a cell with Peach gone.
Maisy hunched and sighed. “This is bad.”
“Don’t look so blue.”
“How can I not be depressed? We’re the prisoners of a mad woman.”
Miranda had lost her enraged mien for a pensive one. “Would you believe this has happened to me before?”
“I heard.”