Throwing the covers back in frustration, he stood. For a moment, Cade could only stand frozen in the quiet darkness, trying to cope with the ache in his chest. He moved to the window to look out over the mountain landscape and tried to think. Had she been with me during those years too? he wondered. If so, what does it mean?
Nothing! It means nothing!
Collett was dead. She was stolen on a violent night by a red blade and a lord of demons, and nothing could bring her back.
Frantic images flashed in and out of his troubled mind like a fuzzy television show that winked in and out. The sounds of battle haunted him and echoed through his soul like a distant ghost. Cade could still hear the shrill battle cry reverberate across the field as Collett, his love, his wife, charged, fully knowing she would be impaled.
He closed his eyes and tried to shut the memory out, but there was no use. The taunting scene was unrelenting. The horrid sounds of steel striking steel echoed in his ears as he pictured the two mighty swords come together with punishing force.
His eyes shifted to crimson, and unlike that night as a boy so long ago, his control snapped. Roaring out loud with no regard for the late hour, Cade released the animal inside in a desperate effort to alter his mind’s plaguing nightmares. Balancing on the balcony edge in his hybrid body, Cade heard the first stirrings of the house and saw Jarrett open the bedroom door. With a sad look, he met his brother’s eyes, then launched himself to the ground below.
Only a few days after the private funeral for Jeffery Garrison, in which the police department had not been permitted to attend, Detective Hall pulled his unmarked car up to a large house situated within the beautiful Rocky Mountains of Colorado. New to Colorado, he still found the majesty of the mountains stunning. However, as a native Texan, Jonah Hall couldn’t get used to the cold. Parking the car, he couldn’t help but admire the lofty estate owned by Rederrick James Williams and Cynda Esther Williams.
He came in search of truth and wouldn't let the grandeur of the home, its location, or the chill air distract him.
His new partner, Detective Peterson, shook his head and whistled. “Whoa! You got to give the guy credit. He sure knows how to pick a good spot. What kind of a lawyer is he again?”
“Stay focused, buddy. This house and the polish means nothing. Most of it comes from family money, which generally leads to corruption. The glossy outside is just another way to pull the wool over our eyes. There’s something off about their story, and I intend to find out what.”
“You sure you want to do this? I mean, the guy is a lawyer. You're asking for trouble,” Peterson said with sincere concern.
Hall considered the question, and his gut twisted. He knew he was toeing the line here, but the whole situation stunk of a cover-up. He wanted justice and wasn’t ready to let their ridiculous story go yet. The unforgettable sight of that kid, Cody, beaten and maimed beyond recognition, drove him to keep pursuing this case.
“I’m sure. Look, we’ve got one body, one kid who was tortured within an inch of his life, and one housekeeper that has yet to wake up from a stress-induced coma. There’s more to this than those rich people are telling us, and I'm going to find out what's missing.”
Detective Hall didn’t mention that he'd attended the funeral and saw an unexplained second coffin. A man didn’t tell his brand-new partner things that could get him fired. Looking into the funeral had been strictly against orders, but the whole situation was a web of lies. Two caskets for one person was evidence of that.
“Could be as they said, a drug deal gone bad. The captain buys it.”
Hall shook his head. “Well, I don’t.”
“All right, it’s your neck. You want to stick it on the chopping block, as your partner, I’ll try to keep the ax from coming down.”
It wasn’t long after knocking on the front door that a tall, young man in military dress answered. He had chestnut-brown hair, and though he carried a lanky build, he was still muscular and fit. Detective Hall recognized him as James Randall Williams, the youngest of Cynda and Rederrick’s three children. He mentally ticked off facts he knew about James.
Twenty-two years old, almost twenty-three. Some sort of electronics whiz, and an IQ that labeled him a genius. He was a sergeant in the U.S. Army, and brother to two sisters, Tracy and Ashley.
James answered the door with a smile that Hall noticed faltered ever so slightly when he saw who was on the other side.
“Mr. Williams,” Hall said with a nod.
“Detective, what can I do for you?” James questioned kindly enough, but there was a clear edge in his tone.
“Can we come in for a minute?”
“Of course you can,” Cynda said, coming into the foyer. She touched James on the arm. “James, go get some coffee for these gentlemen, will you? Then let your dad know Detective Hall and Detective Peterson are here.”
The two officers stepped over the threshold as Cynda opened it wider and gestured them in. They followed her into the parlor where she sat primly upon the edge of the couch in a way that Hall had to admire. In contrast, Peterson flopped down in one of the winged back chairs. Hall winced internally but focused on his hostess, “I appreciate your time, Mrs. Williams.”
“No problem, I assure you. What can I do for you?”
“Actually, I came to see Cade Werren. It’s my understanding he stays here with you.”
He saw a sharp glint in her sea green eyes, but it was gone in almost the same second. “As a family friend, he does occasionally stay here, but he has other homes.”
Ah, it is a problem, he thought.
“What do you need Cade for?” she asked, adding a touch of sweetness to her tone.
“I just have a few routine questions for him. Is he here?”
“No. he’s not,” came a deep, menacing reply from the entrance.
Hall turned. When he saw the angry, golden eyes belonging to the most intimidating man he ever laid eyes on, Hall first thought it was Cade speaking. Having only met him once before, it was an easy mistake. However, when he looked closer, Hall knew it wasn’t the infamous Cade Werren that Cody kept going on about.
Refusing to show his hand, the detective kept his expression plain. He stood and offered his hand. “Excuse me, I’m not sure we’ve met.”
“We haven’t,” Jarrett said. Ignoring the proffered hand and walking across the room to stand behind the couch where Cynda sat, he folded his arms, assuming a defensive posture and displaying his annoyance.
James brought in a tray and handed the detectives each a mug. He then handed a cup of tea to his mother and sat with her on the couch.
Noting the silent exchange between mother and son, Hall took his seat once more.
“Detectives, this is Cade’s brother, Jarrett,” Cynda explained, trying to keep things easy and normal.
“Ah, that’s right, Jarrett Hunter,” Hall said, eyeing Jarrett and feigning ignorance.
Jarrett glared at him with steel in his eyes. Detective Hall refused to shy away which surprised Jarrett. Not many could hold against the intensity in his eyes.
Peterson sat forward and cleared his throat to break the contest of will. “Strange that you two would have different last names, seeing as you’re twins.”
Tilting his head, Jarrett grinned with arrogance. “We're adopted.”
“Hello Detectives,” Rederrick said, coming in to shake their hands companionably. “What can we do for two of Colorado's finest today?”
“We were just discussing that,” Peterson told him.
“My partner and I were hoping to have a word with Cade Werren,” Hall added.
“Oh?” Rederrick answered with an easy curiosity in his tone, but Hall didn’t miss the hesitation in his eyes either.
You’re a cool one, Hall thought.
“Jarrett has informed the detectives that Cade is unavailable,” Cynda explained.
“That’s true, perhaps we can help,” Rederrick replied.
“Do you know where h
e is?”
“No,” Jarrett said before anyone else could offer a reply. Rederrick closed his mouth and swallowed his more diplomatic response.
“Really? That seems unlikely,” Peterson said with skepticism.
“Well, it seems unlikely that you were smart enough to make detective, but here we are—inconvenienced by circumstance,” Jarrett answered with enough seriousness that Peterson only scowled and offered no reply.
Hall coughed drawing all eyes back to him and saving his partner from a verbal battle he would lose, “Do you know when we can reach Cade?”
“I thought this business was all finished, Detective,” Rederrick stated.
“We’re just clearing up a few details, shouldn’t be anything to worry about.”
The detective didn't miss the way Jarrett glared at him, nor did he miss the worry displayed in Cynda’s expression.
“Well, I can pass a message to him—when I hear from him of course,” Rederrick supplied.
“That’s fine. For now, would you mind going over the night of the break-in and how you and Cade tried to save Jeffery and Cody from the—” he pointedly looked at his small notebook, “Californian drug lord, was it? I want to make sure I remember it accurately for my report.” Hall observed Jarrett’s clenching jaw and the anger simmering in his eyes. Isn’t that interesting? he thought.
Two hours later, Jarrett climbed up the steep incline to reach Cade’s favored mountain peak. The cliff he sought overlooked a picturesque valley, and Jarrett knew this is where his brother would seek solitude. He’d been here before as a spectator.
At the time, Jarrett had been instructed by The Faction to pursue and kill the woman Cade would marry. Back then Jarrett had been under the thumb of the man he’d once known as Niall. Recruited as a small boy and trained-up with the conviction that only the strong survive, Jarrett became one of the strongest agents available to the corrupt leader. As an angry kid, he’d believed all of his infamous mentor’s propaganda and soaked up Niall’s indoctrination like a sponge.
Jarrett had done many things he wasn’t proud of during those decades. Jarrett’s first encounter with Niall had been after the fire that killed Rowena; the same fire Collett had saved him from. When Niall first entered his life, Jarrett believed Niall was his saving grace. To a pre-pubescent boy with a monster inside, Niall seemed a hero, and for a long time, that boy even stupidly looked to Niall like a father.
During those first years, Jarrett constantly faced circumstances in which he was forced to kill to survive. He was then lavished with gifts when he emerged the winner. He’d been too young and stupid to see who the real monster was.
Using magic, tonics, and medications, Niall had kept the beastly half suppressed, unless of course, he needed a killer. In which case he would encourage Jarrett to let go. Niall showed Jarrett how to fight, how to kill, and manipulated him into servitude before Jarrett even realized what was happening.
It took longer than he cared to admit to figure out that Niall’s methods of suppression were trapping him. They hindered any personal self-control and forced Jarrett to beg for more to feed the addiction. When he learned he was a slave to it all he weaned himself from Niall’s magic and drugs.
It wasn’t until after Jarrett was clearheaded that he realized all those battles were manufactured by Niall to create a killer. During those years he’d become Niall’s enforcer. He’d been the demon killer, and all within The Faction’s reach cowered from him. Niall even called him “My Pet,” demonstrating this notion that Jarrett was merely a possession, something to control.
When he recognized the noose around his neck and tried to shrug it off, Niall manipulated him with other methods. The wicked leader would bring a child forward and insinuate the child would die should Jarrett fail in his given task. Several times, Niall had people Jarrett crossed paths with killed to ensure he stayed in line and alone.
Years later, when Jarrett heard Niall make promises to Sam Bass and then, in the next breath break that promise by ordering Jarrett to kill the woman, Mary Beth, the reality of his life struck him. Jarrett never once witnessed if any of the promises Niall made him came to fruition; he never found out if the children lived. Jarrett naively accepted Niall’s insistence that each child was returned safe and sound to his or her parents.
So he changed. Jarrett used his assignments for The Faction as a means to an end. He knew he could never escape the trap of his choices, but he could keep others from the unending torture. Jarrett saved the ones he could, hiding them away, and relished in hunting any who deserved his wrath. Over time, Jarrett became The Hunter instead of Niall’s pawn.
Now, all these years later, that angry boy was an angry man, though he was finally free. He was free of The Faction and the man who called himself Niall. He was free because of Collett.
She had stormed across a battlefield to kill his old master to protect him—to protect everyone. He shook his head as he climbed. The noose he had tied himself was cut away by his brother’s wife, but the price of his freedom had been much too high.
When Jarrett reached the top of the incline, he shook his head to erase the unwelcome images. Then he looked out across the valley below and understood why Cade liked this place.
An early thaw had melted most of the ice that once covered a small lake within the center of the valley. Today, pregnant, heavy clouds rolled over mountaintops and hid the peaks within their gray depths. Beams of light broke through in small slivers that touched the green grasses peeking out of thinning snow. All around the water, some trees released from their winter weight speared up, reaching for the sun. Others, still heavy with snow, bowed in reverence to the lake.
The beauty of the scene before him shattered when Jarrett glanced to the side and saw Cade at the edge of the precipice.
The heartache emanating from his brother was a thick, heavy cloud, and there was an anger simmering deep inside that Jarrett understood all too well.
Cade stood upon the peak as a large, black wolf. Being a wolf was easier. In this form, the animal instincts would be stronger than the pain. The basic urges and needs of the animal would outweigh his human thoughts.
His brother made no move to acknowledge the intrusion on his solitude, but Jarrett knew he heard. “There was a detective at the house today,” Jarrett told him. “He wants to talk to you.”
Cade tilted his head. Jarrett knew his twin needed a distraction, and lucky enough for Cade, Jarrett understood the need for such things better than most. They were not idle creatures by nature. The wolf inside them craved the hunt, it craved action, especially in a time like this.
Jarrett came out intending to fulfill that need. He wanted to take Cade away from this place and give him a point of focus. He knew staying here would only make things worse, in more ways than one. Jarrett understood that Hall hadn’t swallowed the group’s story about the drug lord. Plus, it could only help to get away from the things that reminded them of Collett.
“Get dressed, we’re leaving,” Jarrett said and threw clothes at the wolf. When Cade looked away, content to ignore him, Jarrett taunted, “Let’s go hunt down Victor and the rest of those Faction monkeys.” He lifted a brow in challenge and grinned when Cade glanced in his direction again. Jarrett saw hunger in his brother's amber eyes. It was the first time since Collett’s death he saw something besides the glazed emptiness. For now, that was enough.
Chapter 2
New York City, two months later
Tracy Williamson ran along the streets near her apartment. Her breath came fast, and sweat dotted her brow. She knew better than to have any predictable route or schedule, but she enjoyed the workout and fit in a run at least three times a week. Hoping to exert herself enough to find exhaustion tonight, she pushed her body hard.
Frustration steadily built within her these last months, and nothing helped ease the weight that hung on her shoulders. She should be happy and settled again, but she wasn’t. Irritation worked its way into her thoughts, and her st
eps picked up the pace as she considered everything plaguing her.
Tracy had a great job, but it was hanging by a thread ever since returning from her unexplained “family emergency.” She had even been put on review last week. She had been on the verge of managing things at the auction house—not anymore.
Tracy’s job wasn’t the only thing suffering. The little bubble of perfection she’d built popped, and she discovered her priorities were changing. Her whole life from before the attacks and Cody’s kidnapping was crumbling, including her relationships.
Even now, she was prolonging her run, hoping to miss her boyfriend’s phone call. When he called earlier and used the words, “We need to talk,” Tracy had cringed inwardly. They’d been together for almost a year, and Derek could tell something was bothering her. He wanted to know what was going on, perhaps even had the right to know. But for reasons she didn’t fully understand, Tracy hid the truth from him. In her mind it was cowardly to ignore the situation and she resented her own lack of trust.
Nearing the end of her run, Tracy admitted that her inability to adjust back to her ordinary lifestyle was the most bothersome. After growing up surrounded by The Brotherhood, she’d wanted a normal life and moved to New York City after college to find it. At the time, she believed some geographical distance between her and the family would provide the best chance for independence. Over the last few years Tracy had successfully made a life here, and she was happy with that life until…
She huffed out a frustrated curse as she rounded the final corner to her apartment building. Slowing to a stop, Tracy placed her hands on her hips. Closing her eyes to clear her head, she rolled her neck around, focused on breathing, and willed herself to relax.
The Truth of Victory: A Powers of Influence Novel Page 2