Loving Their Vixen Mate (Pack Wars Book 4)

by Vella Day

  His brows pinched. “You can do better than that. Who are you really?” Mr. Backseat glanced to the man in front. The driver said nothing. Clearly, they were mentally discussing what to do with her.

  Mac had no intention of giving them any information. There was a chance they were security for Mr. Daniels. “If you wouldn’t mind, could you drop me back off at my car? I’ll be happy to get on my way, never to return.” They were turning out of the neighborhood, but it wouldn’t be too much out of their way to go back. Since she kept her tone quite nonchalant, she thought they might agree.

  “We’ll bring you back tomorrow if you answer all of our questions tonight.”

  Tomorrow? That would be disastrous. Sam and Brandon would freak when they came home and found her missing. Well, Sam would anyway. She had to make them see reason. “Okay. My name is…” She could go with the one she used to get into Roger Medlock’s house or use her real first name. Since she didn’t want to be associated with yesterday’s disaster, she told the truth. “Mackenzie.”

  Mr. Backseat picked up her camera, turned it on, and scrolled through the pictures. “She was doing some kind of reconnaissance.” He set the camera next to her and faced her. “What were you hoping to learn?”

  “I’m not saying anything more.” She could say she was with the DEA, but if these men were dealing in drugs that would give them even more reason to kill her.

  Kill me?

  Would they? At the possibility, her palms dampened and her stomach sickened. She couldn’t die without finding Cheryl first.

  “Guess we’ll have to torture her, Kurt.”

  The driver glanced in the rearview mirror. “I’m game.”

  Were they serious? What could she really tell them? Other than the list of possible names of men who might have bought women, she truly was in the dark. “I told you, I don’t know anything.”

  “People who don’t know anything don’t hide behind trees taking photos.”

  “You don’t get it.” She tugged on her restraint, but the metal wouldn’t budge. With her free hand she could have dug into her pocket for her lock picks and been freed in seconds, but Mr. Backseat would have stopped her in a flash. Besides, she didn’t want to let them in on one of her many talents.

  If this was the end of her life, she refused to cry and beg. That would just make her last day on earth all the more pathetic. Her biggest regret was that her death would upset Sam and Brandon. Upset? Hell. They’d be tormented. They’d blame themselves for not watching over her, when in truth, she was her own woman. She’d taken the chance and failed.

  “Enlighten us,” the man in the front seat said.

  If only there were some tidbit of information she could toss these two to make them want to keep her alive. Think. Then it came to her.

  “Did you know Mr. Daniels was arrested once for trying to bring drugs into the United States, but he got off?” She prayed her assessment of these two as not being affiliated with Daniels was correct.

  Mr. Backstreet glanced at her. “We did. What else you got?”

  She had to take a chance they weren’t working for the man. “His business is floundering and his wife’s medical bills are growing. I think he might be desperate for money, which might account for his recent trip to Mexico.”

  “Makes sense.” The man was good at keeping a straight face.

  “That’s all I know.”

  That and the belief he bought one or more woman. If she told them that, however, and she was wrong about them, they might warn Daniels. For sure, that would be the death of her cousin.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Where the hell is she?” Sam paced in front of the dining room table.

  Brandon pulled out the laptop. “I’ll check the tracking device.”

  “When I find Mackenzie, I’m going to lock her in the house, and she won’t get a breath of air until we have Cheryl.”

  Brandon booted up, and then tapped away. Sam stepped behind him, but then he was unable to watch. It was happening all over again. First Donny disappeared, and now Mackenzie. Had it been his fault to let her stay by herself? Possibly, but in all fairness, they’d had to do their job, and they sure as hell couldn’t have taken her with them.

  Brandon looked up at Sam. “It says she’s here.”

  “What do you mean here? Did you see her car in the drive? You don’t need to answer that. That bug must be defective.”

  His cousin leaned back in his seat. “Those bugs have never failed before.” He snapped his fingers. “That little vixen. I bet she found the device and left it in the house.”

  That was something she’d do. “I’ll kill her. I swear to God.”

  His cell rang, but he wasn’t in the mood to speak with anyone.

  “Aren’t you going to see who it is? It could be Mackenzie.”

  Fuck. Sam pulled the phone from his back pocket. “No. It’s Kurt.” He didn’t know why one of the Pack members would be calling him, but it must be important. “Sam.”

  “I have someone here who needs rescuing.” His good friend had the nerve to chuckle.

  His fist clenched at the female voices in the background. He recognized them. “You have Mackenzie?”

  “Yes. I gotta hand it to her. She was calm the whole time, even after we caught her not twenty feet from Statler and cuffed her. Then when I said I was going to call you, she kind of freaked. Even begged me to drive her to her car so she could go home.”

  “Are you at your house?” Once he realized she was safe, his anger built. He’d tie her up and lock her in their playroom. For life.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  Kurt hesitated. “Bring Brandon. I’m not sure Drake and I are strong enough to keep you from pummeling her.”

  “I’ll be right there.” He couldn’t even form enough words to say what he was feeling.

  Brandon looked up. “She’s at Kurt’s?”

  “Yes.” He grabbed his keys.

  Brandon jumped up to follow. Thank goodness his cousin was smart enough to keep his mouth shut as they drove the five miles to the other Pack members’ home. What the fuck had Mackenzie been thinking? And how had she ended up with Kurt? Jesus. The chances of a Pack member finding her instead of a Colter had been slim. She was damned lucky.

  Sam pulled behind the sheet metal building and cut the engine. Kurt and Drake lived on the second floor of the warehouse with their mate Chelsea. He bet she never gave those two this much grief. Dear God, why had he and Brandon been saddled with a woman who had no common sense? Didn’t she know she could have been killed?

  Sam pressed the door buzzer and was let in a second later. He and Brandon rushed up the steps. Had Kurt not opened the door then blocked his path, Sam might have shifted and charged at his mate. He’d never been this furious in his life.

  “Calm down, Sam. It’s all good,” Kurt said.

  Easy for him to say. He and Drake didn’t have to deal with Mackenzie.

  She stood, her gaze on his face. She might appear calm, but from the way she was clasping her hands together, she wasn’t expecting a warm welcome. Good. She wasn’t going to get one.

  Mackenzie held up her palms. “I can explain.”

  He bet she could, just not to his satisfaction. Chelsea and Drake were sitting side by side on the living room sofa. Mackenzie stood in front of a chair across from them.

  “Why don’t you two sit and hear what she has to say,” Drake said.

  He acted like Sam might be reasonable. That was a mistake. It took all of his control not to shake her. Brandon nudged him. She’s our mate, Sam. Be good.

  Fine. Sam sat on the edge of the chair only because he was in Kurt and Drake’s home. “Tell me.” He shot her a glare.

  “You need to know that I was just trying to help.” She explained about wanting to scope out the area on the off chance Cheryl was at William Daniels’s house. “I thought with his business failing and his recent trip to Mexico, he might have taken Ch
eryl with him. My cousin looks a lot like his wife. Same build and the same hair length and color. I called in a favor in Indiana, and my source at airport security told me that Daniels traveled with a woman—a woman by the name of Connie Daniels.”

  Brandon looked over at him. “Connie is his wife. Only we know his real wife is in hospice care.”

  “Exactly,” Mackenzie said. “So who was this traveling companion?”

  Sam glanced between Kurt and Drake. “You think this woman was Cheryl?” As pissed as he was at Mackenzie for going off on her own, he was pleased with the intel.

  “Do I think it could be her? Yes. Am I positive? No. The woman in the surveillance video had her head down.”

  He turned to Kurt. “Did you two know about this?”

  “We knew Daniels had gone to Mexico, but not that the woman might be Mackenzie’s cousin. We hadn’t gotten that far in our investigation. I was more concerned about his drug dealings. You know how I feel about that.”

  “Yes.” Kurt’s brother had worked undercover for the Colters as a drug carrier. When his cover was blown, they killed him a little over two months ago. Kurt was still reeling, and Sam couldn’t blame him. It was why the two of them had become good friends. They’d both lost someone they loved to those sick bastards.

  “We’ll see if we can get a photo identification of the woman. When we do, we’d like Mackenzie to check it out.”

  She smiled, but her lips trembled. “Thank you.”

  “You learn anything else?” Sam’s tone came out harsher than he’d intended, but damn it, just because their mate had provided good information didn’t mean she hadn’t been in the wrong.

  Brandon moved across the room and sat on Mackenzie’s chair arm. Did his cousin really think he’d harm the woman he’d grown to love? Sam should have been surprised at the concept, but in truth, it felt good to have someone else in his life. Someone to care for and grow old with—assuming Mackenzie lived that long. His fist clenched.

  She straightened her shoulders. “I went there to take photos of any activity inside the house. While I was waiting to see if Cheryl happened to step in front of the window, a car pulled up. Holding my breath, I waited. From the back, it looked like Paul Statler.”

  “Maybe Daniels wanted some legal advice about transporting drugs,” Sam said. “You only saw the back of his head, so you can’t be sure it was Statler.”

  Drake leaned forward. “Mackenzie took a picture of the license plate, but we knew the car belonged to him.”

  Damn. “How did Mackenzie end up here?” Sam was pleased he’d kept his tone close to civil this time.

  Mackenzie glanced between the two men, probably to see if they’d give the details.

  Kurt spoke up. “We were doing surveillance on Daniels’s home when we saw Statler’s car in the drive and a young woman hiding behind a tree taking photos. I stopped and got out, trying to figure out if she was working with the Colters.”

  Kurt always had been astute. “It was a good guess. Did she tell you her cousin is Jay Wagner?”

  Drake’s face drained of color. He turned toward her. “Is that true, Mackenzie? Are you working with the Colters?”

  She closed her eyes as she inhaled. Then she grit her teeth and faced her accuser. “No. I am not. As for my cousin, Jay, he’s a good man. I don’t know where you all get your information, but he’d never harm anyone. He’s not a Colter.”

  Sam stood. “I think we’ve taken up enough of the men’s time. Appreciate you looking out for our woman.”

  Chelsea stood and held out her hand to Mackenzie. “Call me anytime. I know how stubborn these men can be.”

  A brief smile crossed Mackenzie’s lips. “I appreciate that.”

  Sam headed out and let Brandon deal with her. His head wasn’t in the right place to be civil.

  * * *

  As they headed inside the house, Mac took the keys from Brandon. “Thank you for talking Sam into picking up my car.”

  “Wouldn’t do to have Daniels or Paul Statler’s men get curious about it. It would be bad if they even had a hint we’re investigating the sale of the women. I want them to believe that we’re happy campers after putting John Hood in jail.”

  Mac didn’t buy it. “They must think someone will be looking for the women.”

  Brandon walked into the kitchen and Mac followed. He pulled down three wine glasses from the cabinet and a bottle of wine from the rack. He opened it, and then poured two glasses.

  “Maybe not. From the few names we know of who were taken, they either weren’t close to their families, or were heading out on a vacation. I’m guessing the Colters picked women who they believed wouldn’t be the subject of a national search.”

  “That sucks.”

  Sam walked past the kitchen without saying a word, grabbed something off the dining room table, and returned.

  Brandon held up a finger. “Where are you going, Sam?” He rushed out after him. Mac followed.

  “Going for a run. Don’t stay up. Not sure when I’ll be back.”

  He closed the door before Mac could even respond. It was her fault. She wanted to go after him and ask for his forgiveness, but no matter how fast she was, Sam was faster.

  Brandon clasped her arm. “Let him go.”

  She reeled around. “Sam seems to think it’s his fault that I got caught. It wasn’t. I knew the risks.” Why were these men so uptight? Every minute that passed without finding Cheryl, her cousin could be in more danger from whoever had taken her.

  “Give him some time.”

  She pounded on Brandon’s chest. “Give him time! That’s all you ever say. Tell me one good reason why I should.”

  Brandon handed her a glass of wine, grabbed the other one for himself, and led her to the living room. The pillows were still carelessly tossed on the sofa from when she’d made love with Sam. Her heart nearly broke at the memory.

  “Sit down. I had hoped Sam would have told you, but the pain is still raw. Doesn’t seem to matter it happened so many years ago. I think you being here reminded him of the worst time in his life.”

  She never wanted someone’s bad memories dredged up because of her. “Tell me.”

  Brandon sat next to her on the sofa. “When he was fifteen, and his brother Donny was eleven, their parents went out of town. Sam had babysat before, so they thought all would be okay.”

  She could almost fill in the rest. “Something bad happened, didn’t it?”

  “Yes. Sam thought Donny had gone to bed, so Sam stayed up to play video games. The game had guns and made noise, so he didn’t hear when Donny snuck out of the house.” Brandon inhaled deeply as if he was in pain, too. It made sense since Donny was his cousin. “Sam’s parents arrived home around midnight, and when they went in to check on their youngest son, he wasn’t there.”

  She couldn’t imagine their pain. “Where did he go?”

  “The next morning, the sheriff showed up with the bad news that Donny’s body had been mauled by wolves.”

  Mac clamped a hand over her mouth. Pain stabbed her belly at what Sam must have gone through. “How terrible. It was the Colters, wasn’t it?”

  “Sam believes so. They found his brother’s body in an area known for its gangs.”

  “Why would his brother sneak out and go someplace dangerous?” Brandon raised his brow. Oh, my God. Was that why Sam was so upset? “Do you think that’s what I did?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Mac picked up a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest. To Sam, what she’d done was dumb. The fact she’d been caught gave a lot of credence to his claim. “Only kind of. I’m twenty-nine years old. Not eleven. I had a gun. Donny most likely did not.”

  Brandon sipped his wine then placed it on the coffee table next to hers. “You are our mate, Mackenzie. The only one we’ll ever get. If you’d been killed, we’d never get to experience the joy of growing old together or having a family.”

  She hadn’t realized how important she was to them.
They meant the world to her, so it made sense they’d feel the same way. “How do you know you wouldn’t have another mate?”

  “Our men talk. We’ve heard the lore. It’s said that when we are in wolf form, if our mate dies, we’ll hear her wails for the rest of our lives.”

  “How sad.”

  He picked up her hand. “Can you see why Sam is so protective? He yearns for a family and a companion, and you almost took that away from him.”

  Guilt swamped her, but the need to help Cheryl still raged inside her. “I can’t hide the rest of my life.”

  “I know.”

  “So now what?”

  Brandon pulled her closer and stroked her cheek. All of her frustration seemed to melt away. “We take one day at a time.”

  “What about Sam? Is there something I can do that will help him get over his fear?”

  Brandon leaned back, cradling her in his arms. “I don’t know what it will take for Sam to forgive himself. I recognize that he needs to move on, but he doesn’t. He’s transferred a lot of his guilt over losing his brother to you. If he can keep you safe, then it might make up for what happened with Donny.”

  “That’s dumb.” She cuddled closer. Too bad she understood his warped logic. She, too, wanted to be some kind of super hero, just like her dad.

  Brandon lifted a lock of her hair and twirled it in his fingers. “To us, his actions might seem short-sighted, but not to Sam. He won’t admit that he was just a kid at the time. He did nothing wrong. Someday, he’ll forgive himself. All we can do is not make it worse.”

  If that meant she couldn’t look for Cheryl, then Sam would have to deal another way. “I’ll try to be good.” I just might not succeed.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Brandon held her close. “I’m hurting, too, darlin’. Seeing Sam go through this pain again, tears me up. I know you didn’t mean to set off Sam’s inner demons, but when you weren’t home when we got back here, we were scared.”

  Mackenzie looked up at him, her bottom lip trembling. “I’m sorry.”