He nodded. “Right now, she goes through periods where she is full of anger and rage. She is settling in well with us, and her cousins, but I do worry. It is one thing for myself to be full of rage at Rodolfo. While I want her to hate him, I don’t want her to be absorbed by it, if that makes sense? I wonder if I didn’t do too good a job of making her hate him.”
“Gotcha. Of course I will.” A yawn escaped her before she could hide it behind her hand. “Sorry. I think a showing of your prize exhibit, then a nap, would be the best order of business.”
“Of course.” He smoothly stood and extended a hand to her. She took it, slipped into her shoes, and let him hook her arm through his, his other palm also resting on her arm as he escorted her through the house. “You do have my private cell number, do you not? Whenever you wish to come visit, I will send my jet for you.”
“I appreciate it. This was sort of a last-minute kind of thing. My guys don’t even know I’m here.”
He stopped and stared at her, shocked. “You told no one?”
She grinned. “Nope. Good thing I trust you guys, huh? I could disappear without a trace, and unless they ran a check on my credit cards against TSA records, no one would know where I am. Ha!” She knew part that was sleep-depravation setting in.
Part of it was nerves.
More than part of it was the nausea trying to get hold of her system the closer she knew she was to Rodolfo.
He gently chuckled, shaking his head as he started walking with her again. “Elain Lyall, you are, as they say, something. How I wish Ellie and Charles could have met you. They would have loved you so, so much.”
“You knew them?”
“Yes. How do you think my son met his mate? They helped her get here from the United States. I frequently helped them relocate shifters out of the reach of Abernathy’s influence.”
She always knew she liked the jaguar, but now she felt a humongous soft spot open in her heart for the guy. “Aww.” She hugged his arm. “You big softy.”
“Shh, please do not tell anyone. People think I am ferocious, not a pussycat. It would ruin my reputation.”
If she’d thought he was a pussycat, it would have immediately dispelled that notion when they reached the inner sanctum of Ortega’s dungeon. The entire time she’d kept her arm hooked through the jaguar’s, sensing that he might be a flirt, but that it was more a cultural norm and not any lack of honor on his part.
She’d needed his physical support when they stepped into the room and the door closed behind them.
“There he is,” Ortega announced without fanfare or preening.
She didn’t dare let go of the jaguar’s arm, afraid her legs would give out.
The irony did not escape her that Rodolfo’s condition was directly due to the man she was now desperately clinging to.
His left eye was gone. As were much of his left foot, his right leg a few inches above the ankle, and several of his fingers. His right eye opened, wildly searching the room as he cringed away from them and toward the wall.
Rodolfo let out a moan that made Elain’s stomach dangerously roll again. “Okay, I’m good,” she said, hoping Ortega took the hint.
She didn’t want to give away her pregnancy, wanted any vomiting she did to be blamed on what she’d just seen.
Ortega draped his arm around her shoulders and gently turned her away from Rodolfo, his other hand holding her arm now, and guided her toward the door.
“He can never hurt anyone ever again,” he softly assured her. “You have my solemn vow, he never will.” He called out to the guards on the other side, who let them out and secured the door behind them. “You have been through so much in such a short time, more even than you know. I have always meant to talk with you about your father.”
She hadn’t really thought about that, but now that he mentioned it, it was as good a way to keep her mind off trying not to vomit on his slippers as anything. “My dad? Liam?”
He smiled. “When he first came to us, I offered to let him stay here, with us, at the compound. He was so afraid of bringing harm to others, of drawing Rodolfo to him, that he politely refused. So many years with so little contact with the outside world. I made sure the local padre was well protected and provisioned, to make sure Liam’s hideout was protected. In return he patrolled the area as a wolf, sending warnings if there were ever problems we needed to know about.”
“Shifters?”
“Sometimes. More frequently drug runners or other elements I didn’t wish to cross our territory.” He shook his head. “So many times I offered to give him a better place to live, even move a tiny RV or something there, but he always kindly refused. He lived in little more than a shed all that time.”
She’d never seen it. Lina had described it to her, but she felt bad her father had spent the better part of three decades alone in a hovel just to protect her, while she’d had all the amenities of life.
The sun was starting to come up as they made their way back to the main house, Elain glad her stomach was settling nicely.
For now.
He led her upstairs. “I have placed you in a guest room near my own suite of rooms. I shall have one of my men stationed outside your door. Should you need anything, food, drink, whatever, please ask him and he shall get it for you.”
They stopped in front of a door. Across the hallway from it, one of his men stood, nodding to her.
“Are you locking me in?” she asked only half joking.
“No. Absolutely not. You have complete access around my home, as my guest.” He looked slightly uncomfortable. “I, eh—”
She held up her right hand, little finger extended. “I pinky swear I won’t kill any of your guests, and that I’m only here to talk to them.”
He laughed and, to her surprise, hooked his right pinky with hers. “Then I shall take you at your word.” He placed a hand over his heart. “But, please, for me, allow him to get you anything you need. Unless, of course, you desire to venture downstairs with him. I do not wish for you to want for anything while you are in my home.”
She hugged him. If she’d grown up with an uncle, she imagined it would have been the kind of relationship she found herself having with the jaguar. “Thanks, Ortega. I need a few hours to recharge and then we can talk some more.”
“I shall tell Lacey you are here.”
“Oh, she probably already knows.”
“Perhaps you are right.”
The luxuriously appointed suite was, as she expected from Ortega, more than comfortable. They had left her large suitcase on a luggage rack for her, and her carry-ons sitting on top of the dresser.
I want a bath.
She used the bathroom and then unpacked while the large soaking tub filled. Then she slipped into it, closing her eyes and letting out a soft groan as she sank deep into the hot water.
Sooo good.
As she lay there and enjoyed the quiet, she had a thought.
So far, Bolivia’s pretty damn good. She let out a wistful sigh. Nooo, staying here baaad. Running away baaad.
Tempting, but she knew she couldn’t.
She had too many things to do, too many people counting on her, too many responsibilities.
Responsibilities I didn’t freaking want in the first place.
After a relaxing soak, she finally got out and crawled between the sheets of the guest bed. Closing her eyes, she realized she’d somehow gone from someone who’d planned her whole life out, to someone who was now bouncing around spontaneously depending on what got tossed at her.
I really need to do something about that.
Chapter Five
With the scent trail so cold, Aliah wondered if it’d even be possible to track Cameron and Gerry.
But she had to try. If nothing else, she needed the closure. They’d been together for too many years for her not to try to find him. Yes, there’d been instances in the past of him going out to do something and warning her not to come looking for him if he never returned,
to get away and protect herself.
Not this time. He’d meant to return to her, of that she was sure. He would come looking for her, if their positions were reversed.
And she couldn’t imagine looking their child in the eyes and admitting she didn’t know what happened to him, that she hadn’t even looked for him.
Back in the McDonald’s parking lot the next morning, in the car and with a fully charged laptop, Aliah carefully examined the area behind the house via Google Earth.
Then her eyes landed on the GPS unit on the dash. She hadn’t turned it on yet, not needing it and not wanting the distraction.
Duh.
She powered it up, smiling when she saw the unit had several trips stored.
One of them headed into the forest area behind the house, via a winding road.
And the area was fucking huge. A wide swath of dense, old-growth forest that looked like it’d never been logged. And, as far as she knew, the land was state forest that quickly turned into Maine wolf Clan territory.
They wouldn’t go there, would they?
She had to consider it, no matter how crazy it appeared.
All she could do was try. She saw there were a couple of forestry fire roads intersecting the wilderness. One not too far from the house where she’d tracked the two men. And that was where the stored trip ended.
It was a start, and her only lead.
With great trepidation, she drove the speed limit toward the fire road turnoff. As she crossed from public lands into wolf Clan territory, she double-checked that the car’s windows were rolled up tightly.
The last thing she needed was a passing wolf getting a whiff of her and giving chase. It didn’t matter she wasn’t technically breaking the law—being in a stolen car notwithstanding—by driving on a public road.
Clan territory, especially that of the wolves and other predatory shifters, was inviolate. They were the largest wolf Clan in North America, and they owned a huge chunk of that part of the state.
Cockatrice did not just penetrate Clan territory and expect to escape unscathed. Which is why it didn’t make any sense that Cameron and Gerry had headed that way.
Unless the hybrid cockatrice cunt had given her allegiance to the wolves. If that was the case, the cockatrice species was definitely in trouble. A cockatrice who could identify their kind, know their weaknesses, exploit them, and working with their enemies?
I want to kill her. For Cameron, if nothing else.
When she pulled onto the little-used fire road, she realized she could only drive a little way before she had to park. Up ahead, the road was blocked by a fallen tree anyway, and there were several fairly fresh-looking tire tracks in the dirt here, along with footprints from more than one person.
Nervously staring around, she didn’t spot anyone. She hadn’t passed any vehicles once she crossed onto wolf land, either.
She shut the car off and rolled down the driver’s side window enough that she could listen.
Only the sounds of the forest, and the ticking of the cooling engine.
It took every ounce of will she had to open the door and step out. After grabbing her backpack, where she’d stashed a snack and a couple of bottles of water, she locked the car and studied the dirt.
Lots of wolf scents here, and other shifters, one fresh wolf scent in particular. Slightly familiar, maybe one she’d smelled at Yellowstone when she’d slipped in and left the ransom note in the lodge.
And another scent, one that wrinkled her nose, but she could not identify. Human, based on the footprints, but…
Peculiar.
The freshest wolf scent, a female if she was pressed, headed toward the woods and matched up with human tracks that only looked a day or two old. She was debating whether or not to follow when she caught the faintest whiff of the hybrid cockatrice scent. Stale, as if a few weeks old, but definitely her.
That made her mind up for her. She quickly set off, focusing on the freshest wolf scent. A few minutes later, she again caught scent of the hybrid cockatrice.
As if the wolf had been following her scent, too.
Still no sign of Cameron or Gerry, but this was her only clue and she had to see where it led her.
On she wound, off the fire road and into the woods, the tracks sometimes disappearing against the layers of leaves and pine needles covering the forest floor, only to reappear again in a bare patch of dirt.
Her phone wouldn’t work out here, so she had no idea where she was in relation to the aerial views and maps she’d studied. But the scent trail drew her forward, ever onward, deeper into the woods.
After a while, she emerged at a large, monolithic structure of stacked slabs of rock. Approximately twenty feet across and ten feet high, it looked and felt ancient. She felt a pull from it as it radiated an air of mystery and power, as if trying to speak to her. From the way it was shaped and constructed, it was obviously not a natural formation.
“What the hell?” she muttered.
She circled it, tempted to climb and explore, but then returned her focus to the task at hand.
This was not her destination, no matter how much it attracted her. She needed to find Cameron, and she couldn’t waste time in the wolves’ territory.
Around the rock pile she headed, once again following the scent trail. Eventually it led her to another clearing where a small cave entrance sat in the side of a hill.
Before stepping into the clearing, she carefully listened, looking around, ensuring she was alone.
Nothing but the sounds of animals, the breeze caressing the treetops above her, and her own pulse pounding in her ears.
Feeling exposed and vulnerable, she crossed the clearing and stuck her head inside the cavern.
Nothing but a few stale scents. Although…
She didn’t have a flashlight, but she grabbed her cell phone and opened a flashlight app. Using that, she played the light around the cavern and advanced, until she reached the back of the cavern.
Embedded in the rock wall, two spikes, to which were attached tarnished silver rings.
She fingered them, certain she was on the right path. “Now where have I seen those before,” she muttered. “Who the hell were you holding hostage, you cunt?”
Emerging from the cave, she blinked in the sunlight as her eyes adjusted. It took her a moment to pick up the tracks and scent trail again, but she followed them out of the clearing and into the thick of the woods once more.
That was when she came upon another, smaller clearing. What she discovered there broke her heart. Unshouldering the backpack and letting it drop to the ground, she forced her feet forward, toward the mound of dirt that was, no doubt, a grave.
Sinking to her knees next to it, she spotted the fresh imprint of human hands in the dirt.
The female wolf.
Who the fuck is she?
Aliah closed her eyes and prayed she was wrong. At first, she couldn’t get a good scent other than the fresh wolf. But when she used her hands to dig a few inches through the soft dirt, she had the confirmation she’d dreaded.
Cameron, and Gerry. Blood had been spilled—cockatrice blood. She smelled it.
Closing her eyes, she granted herself this moment to weep, to grieve. It would be all she would allow herself because, from this point on, now that she had her answer her life would be comprised of only two missions—raising her child, and getting vengeance against whoever killed her mate.
* * * *
After Aliah composed herself, she took a deep breath and stood, retrieving her pack. After eating her snack and drinking a bottle of water, she picked up the female wolf’s scent and headed deeper into the woods.
Barely a few minutes later, she came across another grave.
And now she frowned. The female wolf’s scent was very strong here, as was…
The hybrid?
Dropping to her knees, she pressed her nose to the earth. Not just the hybrid, but…death and decay.
Dead?
The
dirt here had been recently disturbed, freshly dug, within the past day or so. The other grave was…
With a heavy heart she estimated at least a couple of weeks old, which would make sense.
But this one had been dug in the past day or so. Odd, she didn’t smell where decay had seeped into the dirt anywhere nearby, just from the vicinity of the grave. It wasn’t like the body had lain out in the open for two weeks before being buried. It was like…
Huh?
She dug into the dirt with her bare hands again, confused and trying to understand.
After a few minutes, there was only one conclusion she could make that made any sense, no matter how confusing it seemed.
The cockatrice hybrid cunt had been dead and buried…
And then dug up again in the last couple of days.
Sitting back on her heels, she tried to figure out what that meant. The female wolf’s scent was very strong here. She had to be the grave robber.
But why?
Scrambling to her feet, Aliah found drag marks and the unmistakeable scent of death and decay of the hybrid corpse leading away from the grave.
She fucking moved the body?
At a dead run she followed the tracks, easier with all the drag marks, heavy scent, and disturbed foliage along the way. The trail headed in a different direction altogether, crossing another fire road, and then…
Then the odd scent reappeared, the one from where she’d parked. Another set of footprints, too, appeared out of nowhere.
And then all the tracks, and all the scents, just…disappeared.
Gone.
Turning around, Aliah frantically studied the forest floor. That was impossible, the tracks and scent trail couldn’t have just disappeared like that. They didn’t double-back, they didn’t veer off. They just…
Vanished.
Suddenly feeling like she was being watched, she wheeled around and found herself alone.
But the watched feeling didn’t go away.
Breaking into a panicked run, she followed the trail back the way she’d come, running until her lungs ached and her heart felt like it would explode from her chest. Until her legs burned, and every step felt like it’d kill her. She ran, afraid to look behind her, until what felt like forever later she emerged in the parking area where she’d left the car.
Triple Cross [Triple Trouble 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 7