* * *
"Wow, this is Winkler's jet?" Ashe was impressed at the size of the private aircraft Winkler apparently owned. Winkler walked down the steps of the jet as soon as Ashe and his mother pulled onto the strip where the private planes landed.
"Go, honey. An extra minute could save Wynn's life," his mother hugged him before urging him toward Winkler, who now waited at the bottom of the jet's steps.
"Mom, be careful. Call me when Dad gets in," he waved behind him and loped toward the jet, dragging his rolling suitcase behind him.
"I'll take this," Winkler grabbed Ashe's bag. "Go on up, I'll be right behind you," Winkler instructed. Ashe ran up the steps and stared when he stepped onto the jet. Marcus, Marco, Sali and six other werewolves waited. Ashe was shocked by how many Dallas Packmembers Winkler was bringing with him. It made him wonder how serious the situation really was.
"Dude," Sali hissed when Ashe settled into the comfortable seat beside him and fastened his seat belt, "Winkler thinks something weird is going on."
* * *
"You're almost too purty to put out in the scrub," the man pawed at Wynn, who was too terrified to squeak. She'd been snatched, drugged and hauled off to some windowless hole. Wynn lay on a concrete slab floor, her wrists and ankles cuffed and chained to the cinderblock walls. Her nearly white hair was matted around her face and she'd been sick twice already. Two men had grumbled about cleaning up the mess. This one, shaggy-haired and foul-breathed, was pawing at her after he left a tray of food on the floor, just outside her reach.
"None of that," a voice commanded from the door. "Place the tray closer and get away. We don't want her weak and wasted. The boss wants a good hunt out of this; his client is paying top dollar."
Wynn's head jerked up at the other man's words, her sky-blue eyes searching for some way to identify him. The sun shone behind the man, placing him in shadow; she couldn't see his face. He wasn't close enough for her to scent either, in her present state; the manacles on her wrists and ankles prevented her from shifting. If she did shift, the thick steel could break bones. That would leave her completely helpless. More than she was already, she amended mentally. Did her parents have the slightest idea where she was? What had they done with Andrea? Wynn and her cousin had been snatched while walking to a convenience store for a soft drink.
"What did you do with my cousin?" Wynn whispered. Her throat was dry; they hadn't brought anything to drink until now.
"Don't you worry your purty head about your cousin. She's not your concern." Foul-breath was grinning at her. Wynn knew he was werewolf, but this was a kind of werewolf she'd never met; this one was cruel and callous.
"Get out," the man in the doorway commanded. Foul breath moved to obey.
"I'll be back to pick up the tray," he grinned. Wynn wanted to gag.
* * *
"Ashe, I'll be blunt," Winkler settled into the seat across the aisle. At first, he'd sat closer to the front, talking with Marcus and two other werewolves. Now he was sitting beside Ashe. "There's a game preserve south of Amarillo. A wealthy werewolf who has been a thorn in the Grand Master's side for a long time owns it. He isn't an official Packmaster, but he runs his own Pack. Rumor has it that any wolf that's gone afoul of the law, human and otherwise, runs straight to him." Ashe stared at Winkler. Winkler was giving him information? That was unheard of. And it was Pack business, too, which made it all the more surprising.
"His name is Obediah Tanner and the game preserve is his cover. During the day, tourists go through the public portions of his ranch, snapping pictures of exotic animals and feeding the zebras and giraffes. What he secretly does on certain nights, though, is bring hunters in to a closed off section of his ranch. Those hunters pay a great deal of money to hunt things. Not just animals, but humans and shapeshifters, too, if he can get them. We haven't been able to prove anything up to this point; he's very clever and careful. I figure there are plenty of stuffed tigers and elephants in hunters' game rooms because of Obediah Tanner. The rarer the animal, the bigger the payday for Tanner. That means that Wynn would be the rarest of the rare, Ashe. I don’t know that there's another living unicorn right now."
Ashe was stunned. Sali, who'd heard it before, still growled at Ashe's side. "Somebody's paying to kill Wynn?" Ashe whispered.
"I think so, as does the Grand Master. He's sending most of the Lubbock Pack in that direction, in case we need backup."
"Isn't there a Pack in Amarillo?" Ashe asked, still feeling numb.
"There is," Winkler nodded, his dark eyes troubled at the admission. "But we fear there may be a leak somewhere within that Pack. That's why I'm going instead of allowing the local Packs to handle this. Weldon knows the Packmaster from Lubbock very well and trusts him. This will be a fast hit, Ashe. We figure they won't hold Wynn very long; it's too dangerous. People will be looking for her. That's where you come in. You'll have to go in as mist. Whatever you do, don't let any of them see you. The fewer who know of that talent, the safer you'll remain. Got it?"
"Yeah." Ashe sat back in his seat, blinking. Wynn's life—if she was still alive—might lie in his hands.
"Good to see you, buddy," Marco sat in the row of seats in front of Winkler and reached back to slap Ashe's knee. Ashe managed a smile for Marco. They hadn't seen much of Sali's older brother since he'd gone off to college and started working for Winkler. Sali said that Trajan had been teaching Marco Karate and Jiu Jitsu.
"Ashe, we'll get this done." Winkler stood, patted Ashe's shoulder and walked toward the front of the jet.
"We've got some good wolves with us," Marco took over Winkler's vacated seat. "Don't worry; it'll be as safe as we can make it."
* * *
"This doesn't sound like a quick hit, this looks like a war," Ashe whispered to Sali as they stood on the private airport tarmac in Amarillo. Ashe was watching as sturdy, sealed crates and plastic tubs were unloaded from the belly of the jet. "Those have to be weapons, dude," Ashe hissed.
Sali's eyes turned toward Ashe. "They only let me come since you were coming," Sali said. "Dad wanted to leave me behind anyway."
"Sal, don't worry about it. You're here, now. We'll get Wynn back. They just need to get me somewhere near that game preserve." Ashe clenched his fists.
* * *
"Mom, what's happening?" Dori was in tears. Lavonna and Adele had spent the day trying to calm Dori down. Adele wondered if they shouldn't ask for a physician. At times, Dori turned to ocelot and hurled herself at a wall inside her bedroom, yowling and spitting. At other times, Dori was human and weeping. Lavonna almost wished that Denise DeLuca hadn't called. Now, Ashe was in the Texas panhandle, helping the others look for Wynn.
"Honey, Denise promised to keep us updated, but so far there hasn't been any news." It was late afternoon and Dori was terrified.
"We can't expect things to happen this quickly; they have to locate Wynn first," Adele soothed. "But they'll find her. Mr. Winkler is in the security business, honey. If anybody has the talent and resources available, he does."
"But they don't have Daddy and Mr. Evans with them," Dori wept. "Don't they need to be there?"
"Hon, Mr. Winkler may have other resources," Lavonna hugged her daughter close and brushed damp bangs back.
* * *
"I know you want to go now, but we're waiting for sundown," Winkler knelt beside Ashe's chair. Ashe, Sali and Marco were inside a hotel room. Mr. Winkler had rented half the hotel, in Ashe's estimation. Marco's room was next door, but his and Marcus DeLuca's room connected with that of Sali and Ashe. "In the meantime," Winkler added, "Try to rest up. You'll need your strength." He stood and walked through the connecting door, closing it behind him. Ashe heard Winkler say something to Marcus DeLuca before they walked out of the adjoining room.
"The waiting is awful," Sali muttered.
"We have to get everybody together," Marco attempted to calm Sali's restless pacing. He'd been fretting like a caged wolf from the moment they'd settled into the hotel. A
she had unpacked a few things—mostly toiletries and his toothbrush, before settling into the chair to think. He wanted a computer. He wanted a map to the game preserve. He wanted anything except the waiting. He'd called his mother when the jet landed, but kept the conversation short. Ashe didn't want to give her more reason to worry than she had already, and sundown was still two hours away.
"Ashe." Marcus was back with a soft drink and a folded map. Exactly what Ashe wanted. The map was one of those printed brochures the tourists received when they visited the park portion of the reserve, but he unfolded it and laid it on one of the beds anyway. Sali and Marco were looking, just as he was.
"This area here, on the southeast side and away from the tourist park, is where we think the hunts take place," Marcus pointed out a blank spot on the map. "That doesn't mean that Wynn is there now. We figure they keep the animals and others caged somewhere, and release them from an underground location. That's why we can't get anything on satellite during the day. They've caught movement at night, but signals are scrambled somehow after sundown. We want to get to that system, too, if we can, and take it out or disable it."
"You were in the military, weren't you, Mr. DeLuca?" Ashe looked at Marcus.
"Yeah. I was. But not many know that," Marcus tapped the map to get everybody's attention again. "We're going in on the southwestern edge, here," he pointed to a spot near Arney, Texas. "We can move in there without drawing too much attention. Ashe, Winkler will give you an update when we get there. And we'll have backup, too, if all goes well."
"Okay." Ashe nodded.
"Ashe, we expect you to be cautious. Don't risk your life. If I don't bring you home in one piece, I don't want to be the one to tell Aedan."
"Yeah. I wouldn't want to tell him, either."
* * *
"You know how much that girl is worth?" Fritz grinned at Cade. "Lester says that congressman paid five mil."
"Congressman, huh? Does he know we're wanted men?" Cade grinned and spat on the ground.
"Word from Tanner is that Congressman Howard might be a wanted man if certain things leak out, if you get my drift," Fritz chuckled.
"So, Tanner's looking to make a little extra money, going the blackmail route?"
"Could be," Fritz agreed. "And that could be worth more than five mil, when all's said and done."
"Better for us. That hacienda in Mexico is lookin' awful good."
"We just need to make sure Tanner knows how much he owes us."
"We'll make sure of it," Cade said, pulling a knife from the sheath at his belt to clean his fingernails.
* * *
"It's our God given right to bear arms and hunt any animal." Congressman Jack Howard looked quite distinguished—from the threads of gray at the temples of his carefully groomed, dark hair to the designer jeans, cowboy shirt and snakeskin boots he wore. He smiled and blew smoke from the expensive Cuban cigar Obediah Tanner offered.
He and Tanner stood inside Tanner's trophy room, which was elaborately decorated with various stuffed heads. In some cases, the entire, taxidermic animal adorned the spacious room. A very rare white buffalo, mounted on a stand, took up the center of Obediah's favorite room. Obediah often used the buffalo's short horns to hang his Stetsons.
"And you're tellin' me this girl is a unicorn? I thought those were myth." Jack Howard blew a plume of smoke toward the ceiling.
"You'll know the truth of it when her head hangs in your lodge," Tanner said, lifting a glass of whiskey to his lips. Tanner was close to six feet tall, with brown hair going a bit gray and a thick mustache that hid part of a scar running from his left eye down to the chin. Werewolves didn't scar unless the injury was quite severe. Tanner never forgot who'd given him that scar. He'd fought a Texas Ranger-turned vampire a century and a half earlier, near what was now the Texas-Mexican border. Tanner would have liked to return the favor, but he'd been near death when dawn came and the vampire had been forced to seek shelter from the sun.
"I'm looking forward to this," Congressman Howard drained his glass of whiskey. "I haven't been hunting on horseback for a while."
"We're gonna have a great time," Tanner slapped the congressman on the back.
* * *
Sali was so nervous, Ashe didn't think he was going to get through the night without having a mental event of some sort. "Sali, you'll go straight back to the hotel if you can't stop fretting," Marcus warned. Sali was confined to a small space between vans in the near-desert conditions of the Texas panhandle. Marco had already grabbed Sali once when he attempted to escape the confining space. Sali had growled viciously at his brother. Ashe, watching the entire incident from nearby, was worried more about Sali than about himself.
Ashe squinted as he scanned the horizon—the sun was slipping down until only a thin, bright crescent hovered in the west. Marcus and Winkler were waiting on someone else to come, and Ashe guessed that twilight was the time for that. Twenty minutes past sundown, Ashe discovered what they were waiting on—two vampires and the Lubbock Pack.
Vans and trucks pulled up nearby, amid sounds of growling engines and swirls of dry dust. Twenty-six werewolves exited vehicles quickly. The two vampires climbed from an SUV and immediately strode in Winkler's direction. Ashe had never seen these vampires before, but his experience with vampires was quite limited. His father, Nathan Anderson and Old Harold, who'd died three years earlier, were the vampires with whom he was most familiar. After that came Radomir, the vampire Enforcer the Council had sent to investigate Old Harold's death.
One of these new vampires was at least six-six, with pale-blond hair, cut short and spiked. The other was shorter, around five-ten or so, with dark-brown hair. The taller one looked as if he'd seen a lot of life. The other seemed younger and less careworn, somehow. After a brief conversation with Winkler, the vampires stood calmly while preparations were made all around them. The Lubbock werewolves were handed rifles and other weapons, and then went through a routine check with Winkler and Marcus while Ashe watched in fascination.
"This is Dalroy," Winkler walked up to Ashe and introduced the taller vampire. "And this is Rhett," he nodded to the shorter one. "Dalroy has some history with Mr. Tanner, I understand."
"Bad business," Dalroy nodded. Ashe drew in a breath. This one had to be from the old west; he could tell by the accent. "You're one of the few," he nodded to Ashe.
"The few?" Sali, who'd stopped pacing to stand beside Ashe, couldn't help himself.
"There are only a handful of children approved by the Council," Dalroy explained. "Maybe twenty or so. All born to shapeshifter-vampire parents." Ashe figured he was a part of a very unusual and risky experiment—one approved by the most powerful among the vampire race. It made him wonder if the Council was still allowing vampires to have children.
"It's time," Winkler announced. "Ashe, we want you to go in and see what you can find as mist. The others here are going to come in from the south and take down Tanner's Pack. Not all of Tanner's bunch will be going to the hunt. It's their job to make sure the quarry doesn't escape. Tanner's Pack will be spreading out along the fence and when they get wind of us, they'll be going over or through it if we don't stop them quick."
"Mr. Winkler, it may be easier to find things if I go in as the bat first," Ashe suggested, watching as armed werewolves loaded into several vans, ready to drive to the southern edge of the preserve. "I can detect anything by echolocation," Ashe went on. "I'll change to mist if I find what I'm looking for."
"Boy, can you send the message back if you do? We can go in if we know where to go," Marcus growled. Normally, Marcus wasn't so abrupt. It made Ashe wonder what Marcus had done for the military.
"Yeah. I'll do what I can, Mr. DeLuca," Ashe nodded. "Sali, will you pick up my clothes?" Ashe turned to his best friend. Sali nodded. Ashe turned to bumblebee bat and fluttered for a moment before Marcus' nose.
"I'll be damned," Dalroy whispered. Ashe heard the vampire clearly, as he turned and flew toward the spot Marcus had shown
him on the map. At first, Ashe didn't get anything—he received echoes off a few scattered buildings and fences, nothing more. Traveling farther over the open space of the preserve, his echoes brought back evidence of a few insects and small animals—rabbits and other desert creatures. Abruptly, two men and horses appeared, their size and shape bouncing back to him quickly. They were close. Ashe kept sending signals and flew swiftly in that direction. More humans on horses emerged right behind the first two. Ashe turned to mist in a blink, blazing toward the horses.
Winkler, there are horses and riders, about half a mile east, Ashe sent. Ashe flew over at least ten men who were mounted. Each man had a rifle with him. Ashe almost froze. They were going to hunt Wynn. They were going to kill Wynn. They have rifles! Ashe shouted mentally. Ashe didn't know what else to do except follow as the riders took off eastward.
"Watch toward the northeast," one of the riders said, the horse loping easily beneath him, his gait eating up the desert beneath flying hooves. His rifle was pointed upward as he spoke to another rider, who also had his gun at the ready. The others had rifles in scabbards on saddles, but all were ready to arm themselves if needed.
Winkler, Ashe sent, a man with a bushy mustache said to watch to the northeast. Ashe slowed, following along overhead as the horses loped along.
"There!" A man shouted beneath Ashe's mist. "I saw a flash of white!" Ashe was suddenly terrified. More than anything he wished Wynn had mindspeech. That would make things so easy. Instead, he did what he could.
Run, Wynn! Run! I'll try to find you! Ashe flew higher, hoping to capture a glimpse of a racing unicorn.
* * *
They'd hit her with whips to make her change, and one had zapped her with a cattle prod to get her to run out of the tunnel. Now, Wynn thought she heard Ashe's voice in her mind. He'd told her to run. Her flanks burning, Wynn ran as fast as she could, ears laid back, gold horn pointed forward, mane and tail flying as her hooves struck the ground as fast as she could make them go. She'd have been weeping as she ran if she were in human shape. The moon was waning but still shone upon Wynn, illuminating her shining white coat. It would make her an easy target.
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