Her Wolf (Their Lady of Shadows Book 4)

by Logan Fox

  “Helicopter.”

  At that word, Finn’s beast threw back its head and howled.

  “They could be anywhere by now,” Kane added, coming to a stand as he brushed his hands on his pants.

  Anywhere.

  When Finn forced his eyes up and happened to catch Lars’s eyes, he could see his own dismal suffering reflected in those green irises.

  Their group had gone so still, so silent that, a few yards away, crickets began scraping out their melancholy tunes again.

  It was over.

  They’d lost her.

  One by one, the men turned away and headed back to the tunnel. Bailey was the last to leave, perhaps because he would take the longest to mourn Cora.

  And Finn left first, because he knew he’d never, ever get over her.

  39

  Home

  “You need to eat something.” Zachary’s voice roused Cora from the blank slate that had become her mind.

  A tray slid over the table. Mouth-watering smells wafted over to her—crisp bread, creamy pasta, red wine—but her stomach clenched at the thought of eating.

  She sat on the beach house’s porch. It faced a wide expanse of beach front.

  Waiting. That’s what she was doing. Waiting for the perfect moment.

  She’d already planned her escape. While Zachary had been in the kitchen, she’d taken small, inconspicuous glances up and down the coastline.

  Half a mile away, a tangle of jungle-like vegetation had encroached on the sandy beach. Less than a yard in, darkness beckoned.

  It would be a hard run, and she wasn’t exactly an athlete, but she knew she could make it.

  She would make it. She had to. There was no other choice.

  Not unless she wanted to spend the rest of her life here, with Zachary.

  The cottage was beautiful, of course. The beach as idyllic as that on a travel brochure.

  If it had been any of her men here with her, she would have thanked Santa Muerte for blessing her with just a wonderful life.

  But Zachary presence left the feel of sticky oil on her skin.

  Nearby, Lady lay curled in a ball, watching the waves ebb and flow. Had the dog been here before that she was so relaxed? Or was that because of how weak she was?

  Cora tried to feel sorry for the dog, but then she might start feeling sorry for herself too and that was a slippery fucking slope, one she refused to go down.

  They were both trapped, but one of them, at least, had the desire to break free. To escape. As soon as—

  “Eat!” Cutlery rattled as Zachary’s fist slammed down on the distressed wood table. “I won’t have you fainting on me.”

  Fainting?

  Cora lifted a fork and toyed with a strip of fettuccine.

  Was it poisoned? Drugged?

  Her mind didn’t feel right. Everything was soft, and insubstantial. Touching a thought made it dissipate, like puffing on a dandelion. Fragments of her mind fluttered away, beautiful in their flight but lost forever.

  Escape.

  That was what she had to remain focused on.

  Escape.

  She dropped her fork, and lifted the wine glass to her lips. The first sip made her tongue recoil, but she welcomed the trickle of coolness as the wine went down her throat.

  “You really shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach, Eleodora.”

  She drew a deep breathe.

  Now or never.

  “I don’t want this,” she said, pushing her plate away with trembling fingertips.

  “It’s all there is.”

  She glanced at his plate. “I want a steak.”

  Zachary patted a napkin against his lips. “Then I’ll bring you one.”

  The kitchen faced the porch. Zachary had been keeping an eye on her the whole time while he’d been cooking. But, to reach the kitchen, he had to go through the front door and down a short hallway.

  Zachary stood, pushing back his chair with the back of his legs.

  “And another bottle of wine,” Cora said.

  “You don’t like the wine?”

  “I’d prefer a white.”

  Zachary left with an amused smile on his mouth. Just before he stepped inside the beach house, Cora slipped off her sandals and held them in a hand.

  As soon as the dark interior of the beach house swallowed Zachary, she ran straight for the side of the porch and vaulted over the railing.

  Soft beach sand broke her fall, but she still stumbled forward three steps before she could catch her balance.

  Behind her, Lady barked.

  No! Bad dog!

  She didn’t look back. Her feet sank relentlessly into the soft sand as she tore over the beach, heading for the beckoning dark.

  Another bark, this one louder than the first, but not any closer.

  “Stay!”

  For a moment, she thought Zachary’s command had been directed at her, and that made her laugh.

  Fuck you, motherfucker!

  Her legs screamed at her to stop, but she forced herself to run faster. She pumped her arms, lungs burning the closer she got to the overgrown jungle.

  Just before she broke through into that cool, green darkness, she hazarded a quick glance behind her.

  Zachary stood on the porch, wiping his hands on a dishcloth. Lady sat at his heel, ears pricked up and tongue lolling out the side of her mouth.

  Cora stopped running in sheer confusion.

  Why wasn’t he chasing her?

  She was far enough that she couldn’t clearly make out his expression, but it looked like he wore a rueful smile. Cora spun to look at the jungle, her skin suddenly writhing in panic.

  Was there something worse in the jungle than Zachary? Was he that sure of himself that he knew she’d come running back to him out of fear?

  Fuck that.

  She plunged into the cool darkness. Foliage reached for her, slapping against her arms and legs as she struggled through the thick underbrush. Roots kept snagging her bare feet, and branches and dangling trellises caressed her face as she moved deeper into the jungle.

  Seconds later, light cut geometric shapes through the vegetation.

  She squinted, and her heart pounded in victory.

  A road.

  She was right by a road!

  Cora sped up, falling twice before she could push her way out of the thick vegetation. Dusting off her clothes, she cast a vague smile around as she took in the scene.

  No, not a road. A runway.

  Her smile faded. And, just past that, a cliff.

  The muscles on her legs writhed from the exertion she’d just put them through, feeling loose and rubbery as she slowly trundled over the runway. The sun had baked the tarmac to a blistering shine; she paused to slip her sandals back on and then forced herself to keep walking.

  She stared down at the ocean where it beat relentlessly against grey cliffs.

  Whoosh, crash, hiss.

  Ad infinitum.

  Cora looked up, but the sun was too bright for her to make out much beyond what looked to be a small control tower for the runway. But, even from here, she could see it was empty.

  Keeping in sight of the ocean, she headed away from the runway.

  It couldn’t have taken her longer than half an hour before she came in sight of the beach house again.

  Zachary rocked in his chair on the porch. He’d taken away their plates, but a second bottle of wine had joined the first.

  Condensation beaded the glass.

  “Did you enjoy your walk?” Zachary asked cheerfully.

  “Yes.”

  Because what the hell else was she supposed to say?

  “Good. I hope you worked up an appetite. Shall I go reheat your steak?”

  Cora sat carefully in her chair.

  She grabbed the rest of her wine and slugged it down, then wiped fingertips over her mouth.

  They came back red.

  Laying her arms on the table, Cora put her head down and began to sob.


  40

  Firestarting

  “I know where she is.” Bailey sat forward in a rush, grabbing the side of Finn’s headrest so he could draw himself closer. “I know where she is.”

  Two sets of dispassionate eyes glanced in his direction; Finn snorted, and Lars gave him a quizzical look as if he was wondering if Bailey had lost his mind.

  “I’m serious, you guys. I—”

  “Put your seatbelt back on,” Finn said, his eyes already back on the road.

  They were on their way back to the farmhouse, traveling with the despondent air of soldiers returning home from a brutal war where the victors were very clearly the other side.

  “When we were at Duncan’s house, I saw a pamphlet for a bi-plane.”

  “How in the fuck is that related?” Lars snapped, twisting to face him.

  “Because a helicopter is really handy to get you somewhere fast. And a bi-plane…” Bailey thumped his palm into the back of Lars’s seat. “Is a fucking good way to get somewhere far.”

  “Great,” Lars muttered. “So not only don’t we know where she is, we know she’s a fuck-far way off. Real helpful, Bailey.”

  “No, don’t you see?” Bailey wedged his shoulder between the two seats, trying to get Finn’s attention. “Zachary’s got a lot of properties, right? But how many of them are only accessible by plane?”

  There was a long, thoughtful silence in the cab. Bailey’s heart sang. He’d found one or two documents on that computer at Duncan’s house that looked as if they listed at least some of the properties Zachary owned. But if they could get—

  “We need Duncan’s phone,” Kane said. “If they had to arrange for a flight, then he might have done those arrangements for Zachary.”

  “Or this could just be another dead end,” Finn said. He gave Bailey a short, hard stare. “You think about that?”

  “But what if it’s not?” Bailey searched the man’s face, willing him to try and find just a sliver of hope to hold on to. “What if it’s not too late? What if we can still find her?”

  Finn’s knuckles went white. Lars glanced at the man, and then glared at Bailey.

  “Let sleeping dog lie,” Lars muttered. “She’s gone.”

  “She left us her ring,” Bailey said, holding it up. Finn had left it behind, placed exactly on the dead dog’s flank just as he’d found it. Bailey stuck out his hand, twisting the ring where both Lars and Finn could see it.

  Finn braked hard, sending air rushing out of Bailey as his momentum pushed him into the back of the front seats.

  “Get out and go check on Neo,” Finn said, not looking at Bailey.

  “She left it there for us. To tell us not to give up—” Bailey began.

  “She left it there to say goodbye,” Finn roared. His fist crashed down on the SUV’s console. “Now get the fuck out and go check on—”

  “Oh my fuck, he’s right.” Lars grabbed Finn’s wrist and then wrapped both his hands around Finn’s fist. “Zachary had no idea we’d find his farm or the tunnel. He had no reason to cover his tracks. From what he knows, the deal’s done and dusted.”

  Lars spun to face Bailey. “That’s why he burned everyone. He knew he wasn’t coming back. He’s left for good.”

  “That doesn’t change anything,” Finn said, throwing open his door.

  “He’s become careless,” Kane said quietly. “He could have left a clue without realizing. Like the ring. If we hadn’t found that—”

  “Then we wouldn’t have known Cora was even there,” Lars finished.

  “What about the dog? We’d have found the dog.” Finn peered back inside the SUV, expression grim.

  “So what? It’s a dog.” Lars shrugged. “But that ring was Cora’s. Undeniable proof that she was there.”

  “So we have to find every single property Zachary owns and search them,” Kane said decisively, opening his door. “Starting with those only reachable by plane.”

  “Or he could be throwing us off his trail,” Finn said. “He could have taken her anywhere.”

  “No, not just anywhere. It will be a very specific, very well thought out location,” Kane said, thumping the roof of the SUV for emphasis as he ducked his head to glance inside at Bailey and Lars. “The fire, the dog…he planned everything well in advance. Psychopaths are organized, pedantic even.”

  “Like setting fire to a building filled with innocent people,” Lars said woodenly.

  “Except, they wouldn’t seem innocent to Zachary. They’d all have wronged him somehow. You saw how the farmhouse looked.” Kane swept a hand to the whitewashed building. “It’s filthy inside. He’s intentionally kept them from doing their work so he could have a reason to punish them for it.”

  “How do you know he’s a psychopath?” Lars asked tipping back his head so he could catch sight of Kane through his window.

  “Firestarting.” Kane lifted his thumb. “Animal cruelty.” His index finger peeled away from his thumb. “Two out of three of the homicidal triad.” Then he waved a dismissive hand toward everyone. “This is the kind of shit you learn in the FBI.”

  “Well, fuck, let’s get back to Duncan’s pad.” Lars gestured wildly at Finn. “Come on, Milo.”

  Finn climbed reluctantly back into the car.

  Bailey turned to Kane, frowning. “I thought you said you were with the—?”

  “Are we leaving Ana here?” Lars asked. “I don’t think—”

  “No.” Finn ran his eyes over the backseat. “Bailey, you bring Ana and Neo in Kane’s Jeep and meet us at Duncan’s house.”

  Bailey opened his mouth, but Finn cut him off before he could speak.

  “Go!”

  He scrambled out of the SUV, watching it pull away as a thread of concern wormed its way up his spine.

  He hadn’t imagined it, had he? Kane had said FBI, not DEA.

  Had he been a federal agent too? Bailey shook his head and hurried into the farmhouse, calling Ana’s name.

  41

  Closure

  “Where am I?” Cora asked quietly, without looking at Zachary. It was a tiny defiance, not making eye contact. But all she had were these small, insignificant battles since she was far from fit enough to wage war. As night had fallen, they’d moved inside to the small dining table arranged against one of the large windows looking out over the ocean.

  Zachary had warmed her a steak, but she hadn’t touched it.

  “A tiny island you’ve probably never heard of before.”

  “Where am I?” Repeating herself was another spiteful measure she’d put in place when Zachary refused to answer her. She tired of the game before he did, though; she didn’t have his patience.

  “I’ve always loved the vastness of the ocean. Brings perspective, doesn’t it?”

  “Where am I?”

  Zachary went quiet.

  “What will it take for you to let me go?” Cora asked, watching a wave tumble over the breakline.

  Zachary stopped sawing at his meat. “Let you go? Why would I want to do that?”

  “I have money.” Cora felt tears brimming in her eyes. “Enough for you—”

  “I don’t need money.” Zachary went cutting his meat, and then used the tip of the knife to gesture toward the ocean, the beach house. “This is all mine. Bought and paid for. I own resorts, manufacturing plants, investment companies…” He chewed for a moment before continuing. “More money than I know what to do with.”

  “Then what?” Cora looked toward him, but kept her eyes on his plate. “The cartel? ECV? You can have it all.”

  Was it the wine making her woozy, or the realization that she valued her freedom over the riches and power that her cartel gave her?

  Zachary made a sound in the back of his throat, as if her offer intrigued him. But then he said, “I have my own cartel.”

  “You can merge it. You can have the villa, all the resources, all the connections—”

  “I already have those.”

  Of course—the Santa Muerte pen
dant. He’d had information on all of El Calacas Vivo’s inbetweeners for weeks already.

  “So why haven’t you used it?” And now she did look up at him, because she wanted to see his eyes when he answered.

  A gleam—pride, narcissism, smugness?—touched his muddy irises. “It wasn’t I who wanted that information. It was part of a deal I struck with Javier.”

  Her mouth went dry. She wet it with wine, but it didn’t seem to help. “I don’t understand.”

  “Nor can you. Our arrangement was complex. And, in the end, useless.” Zachary’s words became bitter. “To think, I wasted so much time on that man. Him and his empty promises. I always knew he had a silver tongue, but I never—”

  He cut off, glancing away from her as he cut another sliver of meat from his steak.

  “No, I don’t need more money. A super cartel?” He pursed his lips, drinking long at his wine before setting it down. “What’s the point, if not to just make more money?”

  His eyes settled on her again, intense and direct. He chewed, swallowed, sat back in his chair and drained the rest of his wine. “There’s only one thing you can possibly give me that I don’t already have. Something money can’t buy. Something I was owed a long time ago.”

  She sat forward despite herself. Tried desperately not to look too eager, and failed.

  “What?” she prompted, when he just kept staring at her with those unfathomable eyes.

  He touched a fingertip to the back of her hand, describing a slow, tingling circle around the knuckle of her middle finger.

  “Closure,” Zachary said, giving her a cold smile.

  42

  Newbs tended to disagree

  “So you’re telling me that’s supposed to be a building?” Lars asked, stabbing at the computer monitor.

  Finn leaned closer still, until he and Lars both brushed against Kane’s shoulders. The man didn’t seem to mind their proximity as much as he minded them questioning his authority.

  “It’s too geometrical to be natural.”

  “One blurry pixel,” Lars mused, straightening as he crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s what we’re going on?”