by RJ Blain
Lisa snickered. “Alex will think it’s funny. He loves watching his brother get riled up. Of course, he’ll get caught up in the hunt as much as the rest given some time. That’s a nice thing about the Murphys. They’re both worriers, and when they worry, they act. They’re reliable.”
Reaching over, Amber gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Just think about it this way, Sara. It’s a legitimate strategy. If your mates can’t find us, no one else should be able to. The risky part is picking up your Alfa Romeo—we don’t know if anyone will be watching the house.”
“Leave that to me,” Nicolina stated. “The alarm system is no match for me, and if anyone does try something stupid while I’m getting the car, I’ll teach them a lesson or two.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Wendy admitted. “Wait. We could grab Sanders’s truck. It’s parked at his house. We hired a house sitter, but they only come around every couple of days for a few minutes. It’s got a huge cab and should be comfortable enough.”
“We’re not stealing my mate’s truck.”
“It’s not stealing if we have the keys,” Wendy murmured. “It’s your truck now, too.”
“You do not have the keys to Sanders’s truck, Mom,” Nicolina chided.
“I may not have them right at this moment, but I know where he keeps the spare set in his house. His truck is seriously sexy.” Wendy clapped her hands. “I love it. Grand theft auto. Onward, Amber! To Sanders’s house!”
I surrendered with a sigh.
By the time dinnertime rolled around, I realized Wendy had ulterior motives for wanting to go on a road trip. With a grin bordering on the demonic, she forced Amber to stop at a store to buy us all phones under a false ID.
“You have fake IDs, Amber?” I asked after we were back in the SUV. While I wondered what Wendy was up to, I waited. I had the feeling I’d find out soon enough.
“I have three on me, one of which hasn’t been hacked by the Inquisition yet. I keep a few the Inquisition knows about so they feel like they can keep track of me.” Amber squirmed in her seat to pull out her wallet, which she tossed onto my lap. “I’m actually impressed you had as good of a fake as you did. It tricked us at first glance. Whoever you got it from knew what they were doing.”
I checked Amber’s wallet, and after a little searching, I found her extra licenses tucked behind her card-sized carry permits. She had a lot of permits for the United States and a government ID for Canada.
“One of my coworkers recommended the guy. A lot of us had fake licenses.”
“Why?”
I hesitated to admit I had been underage when I had first started dancing. Sighing, I confessed, “I was underage when I started working—a lot of girls in my position were. We needed really good IDs. None of us wanted to deal with a year in prison over it—or fines we couldn’t afford.”
“Sounds tough.”
“Vegas is a tough town.”
Wendy cleared her throat. “Amber, there’s a buffet a mile from here.”
My wolf’s eagerness for another buffet experience matched my dread over whether or not my dinner would stay in my stomach where it belonged. Laughing, Amber asked for the address. “Hungry, are you?”
Thanks to traffic, it took us almost ten minutes to reach the buffet. Impatient to eat, my wolf’s restlessness grew, excitement taking over when Amber pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot.
“You want to eat your way to Alaska, don’t you?” I accused, sliding out of the SUV.
“Why lose such a nice opportunity?”
“And in an hour, I bet both of you will be throwing up almost everything you ate,” Amber said, shaking her head. “I will happily pull over for you, but do not puke in the SUV. I refuse to clean it up. I draw the line at cleaning up vomit out of a rental.”
“She who pukes first loses,” Wendy declared.
I rubbed my temples to ward away my growing headache. “She who pukes at all loses, Wendy. Misery shouldn’t be a contest.”
“Don’t be a spoilsport, Sara.”
Lisa grinned at me. “Maybe we should make bets on how long it takes Sara to decide she’s had enough and put Mom in her place.”
“Are you trying to get us both in trouble?” Nicolina demanded.
Laughing, Wendy put her hands on her hips and turned to her daughters. “Girls, when are you not in trouble?”
“You’re so mean, Mom.” Lisa wrinkled her nose, shook her head, and sighed. “We better feed you before Sara or Amber have to call Dad and tell him you ate us.”
“You’re both too scrawny to eat. I’m taking you to a buffet to fatten you up so you’re worth grilling,” Wendy retorted. “Come along, girls. We have food to eat and plans to make.”
In my effort to keep my dinner where it belonged, I ate the least. I amused myself watching Wendy compete with her daughters, ultimately defeating them both by a wide margin.
Amber narrowed her eyes, poking my empty plate with her fork. “You should eat more than that. You have two to feed.”
“If I throw it all up, I’m feeding neither one of us,” I retorted, and with a grin, I pointed at Wendy. “She can puke for both of us.”
“Whoever dubbed it morning sickness never got pregnant. I find it’s all-of-the-time sickness,” Desmond’s mate replied. “If I’m lucky, it won’t last through the entire nine months this time. Twins are terrible for your digestion, Sara—especially after they’re born.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Nicolina muttered.
“Okay, let’s get down to business, then. Sara, of all of us, you’re the one at most risk—but for this to work, you’ll have to take the most risks. We have several choices, and I want you to think them through on the way up to Alaska,” Amber said, pushing her plate aside to grab one of the fresh napkins. “Pen.”
Wendy dug into her purse for a ballpoint, handing it over to the witch with a flourish.
“If we want to catch him, which I think is an absolutely terrible idea with the most risks, we’ll need to lure him somewhere remote. I can get us Ketamine and wolfsbane to drug him, though I don’t know how long it’ll keep him down. He could be down for the count like Richard or he could be more like Sara, burning it off remarkably fast. Either way, it’s risky and a lot could go wrong. Issue one is the delivery of the drugs. I don’t want anything he might be able to turn on one of us, so syringes at close range are a no-go. Darts are possible, so long as we don’t hit Sara or Wendy accidentally.”
I frowned. “What would they do to my puppy if I got hit with a dart?”
“You likely won’t have a puppy anymore if you get hit with a dart,” was Amber’s somber reply. “I’m really against catching him at all. Put him down like the mad dog he is so we can get on with our lives. There are ways to find out what happened to Sara’s mom without risking her puppy to do it.”
With a flinch, Wendy lowered her gaze to the table. “He’s the only one who knows for sure.”
“It’s an imperfect world, Wendy. Is it really worth the risk to find out? Ultimately, the decision is Sara’s to make, not ours.” Amber drew a pair of rectangles on the napkin. “Our other option is to go in for the kill. We lure him into a trap, and as soon as we know we have the right wolf, we kill him. The only problem with that is we’ll need to go to Yellowknife to get the bullets.”
“What bullets?” Wendy demanded.
Nicolina flinched. “Richard’s stupid bullets. They’re solid silver shot, and they’re old. If you want to guarantee a kill, you use those. Can’t we just go in with hollow points, Amber?”
“If we’re killing him, I want him dead with one shot, Nicole. No dicking around with him. One shot and done. Let’s not drag this out any more than necessary.”
“Humane. I like it,” Wendy stated, her tone cold. “The only type of firefight I want to go into is one I know I’m going to win before it starts—without any one of us getting hurt in the process.”
“So, think about it, Sara. If we have to swing up to Yellowknife, we
’ll do so. It’ll add time, but I won’t take any chances.”
Nicolina muttered something under her breath, grabbed her purse, pulled out her wallet, and dug into the zippered section, pulling out a small, black bag. Holding it carefully by the strings, she handed it over to Amber. “There’s three. Richard makes me carry the stupid things around with me in case I need them. Every time I try to put them back in the safe, he gets burned putting them back in my damned wallet.”
Amber took the pouch, opened it, and peeked inside. “Looks like he had these made for you, huh?”
“Yes.”
“You have your Beretta with you?”
“Of course I do.”
“We’ll swap. I’d rather use the gun they’re made for, and knowing Richard, he probably made off with your gun and had the rounds made just for your use.”
“They’re standard. He made the rounds to fit any of my usual weapons. Despite his reputation, he believes it’s stupid to make a bullet that’ll work best with only one gun.”
Wendy eyed the black bag warily and grumbled, “Please put those away. My stomach’s churning just from smelling the damned things. At least she limits how often she shoots her mate.”
Nicolina’s face turned red. “Rubber pellets, Mom. I load the gun with rubber pellets when I do it on purpose!”
“You lead interesting lives,” I said, shaking my head. “How hard is it to learn how to shoot a gun?”
“It’s not difficult,” Amber replied, turning her full attention to me. “Why?”
Drawing a deep breath, I regarded the black pouch with its lethal bullets inside. If his fate was in my hands, I would serve as judge and executioner. My wolf’s approval warmed me. “If anyone is shooting my father, it’ll be me.”
While Amber was intrigued by me and my determination to handle my father personally, Wendy wanted nothing to do with the idea. Caught in the middle, Nicolina and Lisa wisely remained silent, leaving me to defend myself from their mother’s wrath.
The fight continued after we left the restaurant until well after dark while Amber drove along a highway skirting the ocean.
“Absolutely not,” Wendy growled yet again. I had lost count of the number of times she had refused my request, once again renewing our dispute. “You luring him out is enough. Let Amber deal with him. Dead is dead. Will you being the one to pull the trigger make any difference in the end result?”
“Yes, it will,” I replied, careful to keep my voice quiet and calm. “He’s my father, so he’s my problem.”
“He’s a problem we all share,” Wendy countered.
I scowled, wondering how many times we would repeat the same conversation before one of us surrendered. “Why should I burden anyone else with killing him?”
“I have better aim and won’t miss my target,” Amber said, startling me with her first contribution to the argument. “It’s not a matter of can you or are you willing to; we know you are. What matters is killing him so no one else gets hurt. Chances are he’ll get close to you before I—or one of Desmond’s devil daughters—can take him down.”
Nicolina reached up between the seats and smacked the back of her hand against Amber’s arm. “Devil daughters?”
“I’ve seen both of you work. You’re terrifying—almost as frightening as your mother when she’s annoyed,” Amber replied, her tone serious until she ruined it with a giggle. “I’m sure Richard and Alex would agree with me. I’ve seen Richard checking on you at home to make certain you haven’t done some new and crazy stunt, Nicolina.”
“Quiet, Amber,” Richard’s mate grumbled.
“You don’t have to try to do this on your own, Sara,” Wendy whispered.
“Why not?”
There was something sad and wistful about Wendy’s sigh. “I’ve seen a pair of mad wolves hurt their puppy in the past. I won’t see it happen again. I was responsible for him, and I allowed them to get near him. I’m responsible for you. I won’t allow that mongrel who dares to call himself your father close to you. Amber, Nicolina, or Lisa will take the shot. You will lure him out, and long before he is able to reach you, he will die a far more merciful death than he deserves.”
I had no idea who the ‘him’ she referred to was, but the pain in her voice made me pause. “It doesn’t seem right. Because of me—”
Wendy reached between the seats, and with a hard flick of her finger, she struck my neck. I yelped, agony rippling through me to leave me shaking in its wake. “Because of you, Sanders will have a puppy at long last. Because of you, he’ll have the family he never thought he could have. Because of you, I’ll torment my daughters with a sibling. You can’t take the blame for what others have done.”
“Because of me, they took you at the greenhouse,” I snarled when I could talk without gasping for breath.
“I have a theory on that.” Nicolina jostled her mother out of the way and rubbed her fingers where I’d been flicked. “Try to relax; it’ll help with the pain. Mom’s a master at that trick, thanks to Father. Anyway, it’s a dominant’s instinct to provide for females. If his pack doesn’t have any bitches, he likely wanted Mom as a female companion for you. Males are often driven to please and protect females. It’s annoying and obnoxious as hell. Be careful what you ask for, especially while you’re pregnant. Sanders will do everything he can to get you what you want. Hell, you’ll open your mouth with some wishful-thinking comment, and sure enough he’ll accomplish it, leaving you to wonder what the fuck is wrong with him.”
“Richard still hasn’t figured out when she’s serious or not,” Amber informed me. “We’re betting on whether he figures it out, or if Nicole learns to keep her wishful thinking to herself. Personally, I think she likes watching him bend over backwards for her. It gives her time to plot her next prank on him.”
“He must have the patience of a saint,” I mumbled.
Lisa laughed. “He sure does. Nicolina’s the same way, at least until she gets caught up in something or someone really upsets her. They’re a good match for each other. Not as good as Alex and I, of course, but only one of us can be perfect, and that’s me.”
The sisters began bickering in the backseat, and I wondered if I should try to put an end to the argument when Wendy giggled. Deciding against intervening, I turned to Amber. “I think we’re all tired and cranky. Have we gone far enough for tonight?”
“We’ve gone far enough for tonight. I’ll stop at the next hotel I find.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
It took us two days to reach Seattle.
“We would have been here yesterday if you three in the back had a combined attention span longer than ten seconds,” I stated, twisting around in my seat to glare at the three women.
They grinned at me.
“Admit it, you liked the stop at the chocolate factory in San Francisco,” Wendy replied.
I glanced in the direction of the duffel bag stashed between Nicolina’s feet. “I enjoyed it. I’m worried Nicolina is going to develop diabetes should she continue her current consumption rate of those bars.”
“Just be glad Richard isn’t with us, Sara. When I first met her, she woke up before Richard, Alex, and me and devoured an entire duffel bag’s worth in a sitting.”
“I was hungry,” the wizard mumbled.
“She needs more calories than regular Fenerec,” Amber admitted, sighing. “Chocolate is a good way to keep her awake.”
Amber pulled the SUV into the driveway of a two-story house. It was plain, its siding painted in a white beginning to turn gray. It reminded me of a plantation estate from the Civil War, complete with a wrap-around porch. Like the Desmond’s home, the house was under siege by countless roses.
The flowers didn’t hold my attention long. Parked in front of us was a red truck trimmed in sleek chrome. Mud was splattered over its tires, although it looked like someone had taken a hose to most of the vehicle. It had four doors like most cars, and I had a feeling it could easily demolish our rental. I leaned forward
, widening my eyes.
I didn’t know much about trucks, but it looked new enough. “That’s his truck?”
“It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” Nicolina said, hopping out of the SUV.
“How old is it? It looks new!” I followed her example and got out of the rental.
“I might have a small confession to make.” Circling to the truck, Nicolina gave it an affectionate pat. “Richard and I planned to trash Sanders’s old truck. While the rabbit feet were an unexpected and unwanted surprise, revisiting a prank he pulled on me years ago, we were planning on some collateral damage to his old truck. This one is four months old, and we thought it might help him feel a bit better after what happened to Mary.”
Wendy sucked in a breath. “You broke his truck on purpose?”
Leaning against the truck, Nicolina smirked in her mother’s direction. “Supercharged baseball bat to the engine. I fried every possible component to make sure it died a terrible death. I’m a bad daughter. I’m sorry, Mom. I’m also a terrible friend, as I already paid the truck off in full. When he pays his monthly bills on the truck, it ends up in an investment account I’m overseeing for him.”
“What did I do to deserve a nightmare child like you?” demanded Wendy.
“So this is Sanders’s house?” I forced my attention away from the truck. While the others had enjoyed insulting the home, I couldn’t see anything wrong with it. “The way you all went on, I thought it was falling apart or something.”
“It is,” Wendy replied, wrinkling her nose. “It’s a death trap, it needs a new roof, and if you’re really unlucky, you’ll end up with your foot through a floorboard. He fixes them each time one gives out, but it’s never a fun experience when it happens. Part of the disrepair is due to the fact he spends a lot of time at the greenhouse—he has for the past few years.”
The chill in Wendy’s tone warned me against asking, so I nodded, kept my mouth shut, and approached the front door.