by Bru Baker
Scott was sitting behind the wheel. He met Jackson’s gaze with red-rimmed eyes.
“I’m so fucking sorry, man,” he said when Jackson settled into the back seat, letting Abernathy take the front. Two other Enforcers crowded in with him. “We don’t even know when they were taken. We didn’t think to look for them until hours had passed.”
“It’s not your fault,” Jackson said, his voice cracking.
“It truly isn’t,” Abernathy said. “If this is the work of the fae, there wasn’t anything you could have done to prevent it. Likely they grabbed them here because it was convenient. If they wanted them, they’d have no trouble taking them no matter where they were.”
Logically, Jackson agreed with her. The fae were slippery and smart, as well as being magically gifted. Nothing could keep them out if they were determined to get in. But the irrational part of him couldn’t help but think if he’d been there this wouldn’t have happened. If he’d woken Harris up yesterday morning instead of leaving him in an empty bed. If he’d forced him to stay and listen to him instead of letting Harris run away. If he’d canceled his trip when he hadn’t been able to find Harris to tell him why he was going to New York.
“Do we have any leads about where they might be holding them?” Scott asked, heading out toward one of the main state roads.
“We don’t track the fae, but we had a team out here recently tracking some Were separatists. They reported some unusual fae activity. They moved on because the separatists headed into Kentucky, but they were reasonably certain the fae had established a base of operations somewhere in Bloomington.”
Bloomington was a large place. Jackson tried not to drown in discouragement. He needed to believe he could find Harris. The bond was so fragile that his stubborn insistence was all that was keeping it alive. So much of Were bondings were about intent, and Jackson intended to find Harris and confess how much he loved him. That was going to have to be enough to get him through this.
“They’ll want an area that isn’t high traffic,” Abernathy said. “Fae mages are capable of glamours, but it takes a lot of energy to shield an entire building from human notice.”
“They’ve been monitoring Camp H.O.W.L.,” Jackson said. “We’ve had reports of people out on patrol feeling like they were being watched, strange noises in the forest, that sort of thing. Nothing registers on the security cameras.”
Abernathy turned in her seat and gave him a grim smile. “They’re very good at operating under the radar.”
“Ma’am, I checked in with HQ, and the Fae Council has made contact with the Tribunal. They want us to hand over the selkie trespasser to be tried in their court.”
“If they’re sniffing around her, that’s as good as confirmation they are the ones who took Harris and Candice. It was Candice’s presence at Camp H.O.W.L. that attracted the selkie and prompted the FBI raid.”
Jackson wanted to slam his fist through the window. Once again, his mate was in danger because he hadn’t done his job right. Fuck.
“Calm yourself,” Abernathy snapped. “You’re not any good to anyone if you’re going to be emotional.”
How had he ever wanted to join the Enforcers? He never wanted to be that cold. Jackson would have to do his best to emulate her right now, though. He had to calm down so he could connect with Harris through the bond.
“I know it’s hard, but we’ll find them,” Scott said, his voice so heartbreakingly earnest that Jackson’s anger spiked again.
Scott had no idea how serious this was. And why would he? The fae were almost like a fairy tale to most Weres and shifters. They knew they existed, but most would go their entire lives without seeing one. The fae kept to themselves, except when they ventured out into the world to enact justice and put down people they perceived to be threats to the supernatural community. There was no way Scott could know being taken by the fae was a death sentence.
“I’ve got to figure out how to reach out to Harris through our mate bond. I’m not sure how to do it.”
Scott half turned in his seat. “Aw, dude! You didn’t tell me you’d bonded. Congratulations!” He was like a gigantic puppy.
“We haven’t officially bonded yet. But there’s a fledgling bond there—I could feel him when we were in the same room. I just have to figure out how to reach him over a longer distance and use it to figure out where he is.”
It sounded ridiculous when he said it out loud. Mates who had been bonded for years couldn’t feel each other outside a radius of a few feet, usually. It expanded as the bond matured, but to do what Jackson was trying—they’d need to have been mated for a decade at least.
“I can totally help with this,” Scott said, excited. “Kayla’s been working with me. First thing, close your eyes. Don’t try to force yourself to breathe deeply. Just focus on the way your chest rises and falls naturally. Let the beating of your own heart center you. When you’ve calmed yourself enough to let your mind go blank, think about Harris and your intention to find him.”
Jackson blinked. “Kayla has been working with you to feel a mate bond?”
Scott laughed. “No. She’s been teaching me how to get into that headspace so we can have crazy-hot tantric sex, though.”
Jackson snorted out a laugh. He’d walked right into that one. None of the Enforcers in the car even cracked a smile. More proof he’d made the right decision.
Jackson closed his eyes and tried to tune out the road noise and the heartbeats of everyone else in the car. He followed Scott’s instructions, turning his focus inward. Jackson had no idea how much time was passing, but it seemed like the span of a blink before he could only hear his own steady breathing and the drum of his pulse.
He thought how delicious Harris looked curled up in his blanket burrito. About how he wanted always to be able to keep Harris as safe as he’d been in that moment, tucked up in blankets with mussed hair and an innocent smile.
He wanted to see that smile every morning for the rest of his life.
Jackson was almost startled out of his meditation when he felt a presence, like someone or something was standing behind him. It was familiar, but it was definitely distressed.
He strained toward it in his mind, but the more he reached for it, the fainter it became. Frustrated, he forced himself to ease back, letting the presence come to him. Images flitted through his mind, indistinct flutters of color that dispersed when he tried to look at them. It was like seeing something out of the corner of his eye, only to find it gone when he whirled around to look at it.
Jackson took another deep breath and stilled his mind, waiting for the next flash. This time he was ready for it, and he purposely did not turn his head toward it. He could make out vague images, but he wasn’t sure what they meant. He tried again, but no images came.
“Is there an industrial district in Bloomington?” Jackson asked, blinking his eyes open. “Somewhere with a lot of factories and big warehouses?”
“What did you see? Were you able to connect with him?” Abernathy sounded flabbergasted.
“I don’t know for sure, but I think so. He’s scared, wherever he is. And I got images of cement floors and metal grates. I was thinking an abandoned factory or something. It’s dark. There isn’t much natural light at all.”
“Did you see any guards?”
Jackson shook his head. “It’s not like a movie. I only got snatches of vague images and feelings. He’s hurt—I could tell that. And worried.”
Scott made a U-turn. “There’s an industrial park a few miles back. We’d passed close to it while you were meditating. Maybe he’s there, and the proximity boosted the bond.”
The industrial park was a cluster of older brick and limestone buildings. Most of their windows had been blacked out, either by the companies that had abandoned them or by squatters. Jackson’s heart lurched when they drove closer.
“It’s here. He’s in one of these buildings.”
“It would be helpful if you could tell us which one so we don
’t have to split into teams,” Abernathy said, still sounding skeptical. “If we’re walking into a fae hideout, we’ll need significant backup.”
Jackson scanned the buildings. “That one, I think,” he said, pointing to a three-story building. “There wasn’t much light, and that one has the fewest windows.”
Scott pulled up short, stopping at the access road. “I’ll get the SUV turned around and be waiting here,” he said.
Abernathy nodded. She radioed the other car with her instructions, and soon they were all out, making their way carefully toward the abandoned warehouse.
“Eight heartbeats,” one of the Enforcers said.
Abernathy held up a fist to stop them. “Team 1, move out around back to cover any potential exits. Team 2, you’re with me. We’re going in.”
“How?” Jackson asked, studying the building. It looked impenetrable.
Abernathy grinned at him, looking engaged and interested for the first time. “Through the front door, of course.”
She lifted her gun and checked it. Jackson did the same. It wasn’t the standard-issue Glock he carried when he patrolled, but it was similar enough. It was a comforting, solid weight in his hand.
“Protocol F,” she told her team. She looked at Jackson, lowering her voice. “We’ve trained for a fae confrontation, but I’ve never seen a fae in combat because—”
“Because no one ever survives to make a report,” he finished for her.
She offered him another shit-eating grin. The woman was clearly bloodthirsty—a good trait to have on their side when going up against Fae Enforcers.
“They’ve never gone up against my team. We’re good, Berrings. You get us there, and we’ll get them out.”
Or die trying. Jackson pushed that thought aside.
“Two waves,” she said, motioning toward the door. “The victims are inside, location unknown. Getting them to safety is the top priority. Use force as needed. You have authorization to kill if necessary.”
She drew several flashbangs out of her bag and handed them to the two Enforcers at the front of the line. “They’ll enter with force and deploy these. They should stun anyone in the building, supernatural creatures included.” She handed a pair of canisters to a third Enforcer. “The next line will use these. The smoke will obscure your view, but the contents won’t affect anyone who isn’t fae. For them, it causes weakness, numb limbs, confusion. It levels the playing field a bit. Then the team will subdue any downed fae through the usual means.
“Berrings, you’re with me and the rest of the team. Once our scouts have cleared the way, we will enter and fan out to find the victims. You have authorization to defend yourself, but your mission is to find the hostages and lead them out.”
Jackson gave her a brusque nod. He sent one last pulse of love through the bond before closing it down in his mind. He couldn’t afford to be distracted in there. He’d have to trust his other senses to find Harris once they were in the building.
Abernathy gave the signal to move out, and the Enforcers wasted no time following it. The team jogged up to the doors, waiting while the first two broke them down and tossed in the flashbangs, followed by the smoke canisters.
He was in the rear, which was fine with him. Normally he liked being in the first wave of attack, but this was different. He swept in after the entryway was cleared, his eyes and nose stinging from the acrid smoke. He made his way deeper into the building, looking for any sign of the metal grates. The center of the warehouse was open, and he saw a pair of fae guarding the stairway to the second-floor corridor, which wound all the way around the building. Bingo.
He jumped up and caught the bottom of the metal walkway, then swung himself up. Enforcers had reached the stairs, and he ignored the sounds of fighting as he ran down the corridor, looking for any sign of Harris and Candice.
He stopped short when he smelled blood, his heart seizing. It was impossible to scent whose it was, thanks to the smoke filtering up from the first floor. Jackson pounded down the metal walkway, stopping in front of a grate that was dripping blood. A body sprawled across the cement floor inside, nearly sliced in half. Jackson steeled himself as he moved closer, giving a quick sob of relief when he recognized Richard, the staffer Anne Marie had fired.
Jackson gritted his teeth and moved on, looking into each of the gloomy cells. He glanced across the large room and saw movement in similar cell-like rooms on the other side.
The two sides connected with a catwalk-like corridor, and Jackson scrambled across it. He found Candice first, cowering in the back of her cell with her hands protecting her head.
Jackson rattled the grate. “Candice,” he called lowly, not wanting to attract attention from the fae who were still fighting downstairs. “Candice, it’s Jackson.”
She tipped her head back, eyes widening when she saw him. She got up and ran to the grate, grabbing at his fingers.
“Dr. Wick is next door, and he’s hurt,” she said in a rushed whisper. “You’ve got to get him out first.”
Jackson squeezed her fingers. “Let’s get you out, and then I’ll get him.”
Every cell in his body was screaming at him to get Harris to safety, but Candice was the priority. She was a wolfling who had been entrusted to his care, and he didn’t take that lightly. Neither did Harris. He knew his mate would kick his ass if he found out Jackson had left Candice there a moment longer than necessary.
Jackson spotted a padlock at the bottom of the grate. It attached the door to the metal floor. Fuck. Enforcer Abernathy probably had bolt cutters in her bag of tricks, but he had no idea where she was.
He looked around, gauging his options.
“Candice, get back in the corner and cover your head,” he said. She scurried to obey, and as soon as she was in position he took aim and shot at the padlock. It took three tries, but it worked. It fell open, and he lifted the grate. She ran out of the cell and threw herself into his arms, clinging to him.
“It’s okay,” he said, patting her awkwardly. “Let’s see if we can get Harris, okay?”
She let go of him, and he moved to the next room. Harris was sitting propped up against the wall, his pallor gray but his eyes open.
“You’re so sexy when you shoot things,” he rasped.
“Fuck off,” Jackson managed to choke out. He couldn’t afford to break down right now. The job wasn’t done. He had to get Harris out of this damn cell and figure out how to get both of them out of here without wading into the fight downstairs.
“I love you too,” Harris said. A trickle of blood ruined his otherwise angelic smile.
Shit. Was he bleeding internally? What had the fae done to him? Jackson had to know how badly he was injured before he could make a decision about what to do.
“Where are you hurt? Aside from your head, I mean.”
Harris looked surprised, his hand raising to gingerly touch the back of his neck. “How did you know about my head?”
“The bond,” Jackson said. “I felt it through the bond. It’s how I found you. I don’t know how much time we have. Where else are you hurt, baby?”
“My ribs,” Harris answered. He tried to get up but fell back with a groan. “I think at least one is broken. Something’s keeping it from healing. When the doors downstairs exploded, the guards went nuts. I think they killed Richard. One of them came for me with a spear but it hit my rib.” He nodded toward the corner where a broken spear lay in a puddle of blood. “I pulled it out but I’m still not healing.”
Jackson wanted to roar, but he pushed it down. He had to be strong for his mate right now. “Okay. I’ll try to bind it when I get in there. Can you move away from the door? I had to shoot Candice’s padlock off, but I can’t do that if you’re near it.”
Harris tried to move again but let out a pained gasp. “I don’t think I can.”
Fuck. “That’s okay. I’m going to get Candice out of here, and I’ll be back for you. You stay there and try not to move.”
Harris nodde
d before leaning his head back against the wall and shutting his eyes.
Leaving Harris there where he was still in danger felt like losing a limb, but he couldn’t wait. He had to get Candice out. Jackson reached for his belt where he usually kept his radio when he was in uniform and cursed. He didn’t have one. Abernathy hadn’t had a spare.
He looked over the railing. Some of the fae were down, subdued by the gas and tied with magical restraints. But there were still two fighting the Enforcers. He couldn’t take her down the stairwell.
“Candice, I’m going to put you on my back and we’re going to go up, okay? Once we’re on the roof I’ll find us a way to climb down.”
She nodded and put her arms around his neck. He boosted her so her legs wrapped around his waist.
“I’ll be back, baby,” he told Harris. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Harris murmured, his words slurring.
Jackson jumped onto the railing, adjusting his balance to accommodate the weight on his back, and reached up to grasp the walkway above them. He didn’t dare swing himself out to gain momentum this time, so he used his upper body to pull them up.
“Can you climb onto the walkway?”
Candice scrambled off him and onto the metal grating. Without her weight, he was easily able to pull himself up. He took her hand and ran toward the ladder to the roof. If he was lucky there would be a fire escape they could use to get down. If he was unlucky—well, a three-story fall wouldn’t kill a Were. It would hurt like a bitch, and he’d probably break both legs carrying Candice, but he could do it.
He pushed Candice ahead of him, letting her go first. She darted up the ladder and burst out the trap door, her feet disappearing. He followed, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw the fire escape.
“Take that down to the ground and find Scott in the parking lot, okay? He has a radio. Tell him to let Abernathy know you’re safe and that I went in to rescue Harris. Tell her I need bolt cutters on the second floor and a medic if she has one on her team.”