by Hart, Sadie
As if lion-shifters in general were losing it.
By the time he was done with them, they’d be shot on sight.
And Arianna would have her revenge.
Caesar looked down at Lennox. Having her on his side would help. She was good enough to cover her tracks—hell, he’d seen her tampering with one of his crime scenes. She’d erased the link to Kanon in that one. Caesar shook his head, an admiring smile tugging at his lips. He knelt in front of her, his jeans pulled tight over his thighs as he leaned in to breathe the words across her face.
“They’re monsters, Lennox, you know this.” Her lips tightened but she didn’t say a word. She knew. Caesar touched her cheek, gentle. Soft. He loved her. Like a daughter to him. The daughter Arianna could have been. “You know this.”
She said nothing. Her face titled away, her jaw set. Damn her. She’d see. Another Reyes would turn bad soon and the Hounds would start getting nervous. Then maybe he’d have a go at a rogue. There was one south of Boulder Pride by about an hour. It wouldn’t be that long of a drive, and that would really start making everyone edgy.
But first... Caesar stood, his hand falling away as his gaze fell on Rulon again, the lion watching him through hooded eyes, lips so pale they were almost white now. He’d be dead soon and Caesar would have to figure out what to do with the body. But first, he knew what he had to do. A smile spread over his face as he headed out of the old abandoned barn, thirty miles north of Boulder Pride, and headed up the field towards his car.
And his phone.
He had a pack to call in. He licked his lips as anticipation rode through his veins like a high. An anonymous tip to give. About a pair of lions staying at Melody Knight’s address. The same pair that had kidnapped a Hound in Idaho and used her to erase the three murders they’d committed in Utah.
Caesar whistled to himself. At least he wouldn’t have to do all the hard work. They’d snap under the presence of Hounds and do his dirty work for him. A few more Hounds would probably die, but in the end, the pair of them would be put down like the monsters they were.
Chapter Fifteen
Fuck. Tegan felt the air whoosh out of his lungs as if he’d taken a good kick to the gut. The reporter on the news stood inside Boulder Pride territory, a grim twist to her lips, blonde hair whipping in the wind. The prairie grass and the blue-ish gray tint of mountains in the distance were marred by crime scene tape and enough Hounds from Shifter Town Enforcement to fill half the state. The microphone was steady in her hand, her voice didn’t waver, but the world around her seemed off kilter.
Her lips moved but Tegan no longer heard the words. He kept replaying her last statement; over and over again A Hound had been killed. A lion-shifter’s blood was all over the scene. A lion had killed the Hound. They had a lead on the suspect.
They couldn’t name names, but the reporter stood in Boulder Pride, one of the largest lion prides in the country. But what really kept tripping him up was the last part. There were very few details left at the scene, the Hounds couldn’t track the killer, but he’d left enough blood behind. He frowned. A lion wouldn’t have been able to hide their tracks, but the witch after Kanon could plant all the evidence in the world. And this time, the witch had killed a Hound.
Tegan shook his head and forced himself to breathe, fresh chills raising goose bumps over his skin as the reporter continued. “Shifter Town Enforcement Alpha, Brandt Lawrence, has linked the attack with several murders in Utah. The deaths of Aibileen Walters, and Tristan and Carolyn Hale.”
The floorboard creaked behind him as Kanon stepped around the couch, his calloused hand finding Tegan’s. Tegan gave it a gentle squeeze. He could feel Kanon trembling beside him, fear and adrenaline making them both weak. Where was Lennox? “Whether or not they were killed by same lion-shifter is unknown. Enforcement Alphas refuse to yield details.”
Lennox’s picture flashed in the corner of the screen and Tegan’s grip went tight, squeezing Kanon for all he was worth. Panic seized him like a cold vice clamp, bearing down on his heart hard enough he was certain it would break. Please don’t let her be dead. He couldn’t take if she’d died.
He and Kanon clung together, lost in a silent prayer as the reporter continued, her voice steady, the lack of emotion haunting. “A Lennox Donnelly, another Hound for Shifter Town Enforcement, this time out of Idaho, has been reported missing this afternoon.”
A car door shut outside and Tegan closed his eyes. Thank God. She was alive. They were alive. According to the reporter she was missing, but at least they knew where she was. Home. The knowledge heaved out between them on relieved sighs.
They’d have to figure out how to survive this mess, but with Lennox alive and back with them, they could do that. With her they could do anything. Kanon’s grip turned painful a second later and Tegan opened his eyes to stare at the TV, his heart beating wildly again. Fresh panic replacing the old. An image of Kanon had replaced Lennox’s face on the screen, Tegan’s next to his. Their names in bold text underneath each picture.
They looked like mug shots, which was close enough. Driver’s license pictures, the same ones on file in Shifter Town Enforcement when they’d gone in under the new laws to apply for pride status. It had seemed easier than staying rogues. Odd, it hadn’t saved them at all.
“She was last seen trying to arrest Kanon Reyes for an unprovoked attack on a Hound. These two men are wanted for questioning. If you have any tips please call the number below. They are to be considered dangerous and may be involved in the murders in both Utah and Colorado. Do not engage. Execute extreme caution if seen and contact Shifter Town Enforcement immediately.”
“Fuck,” Kanon breathed softly. Tegan swayed.
Another car door clicked shut and Tegan turned, a frown touching his lips, eyebrows drawing down in confusion. He glanced at the window. Through the slats on the blinds he could see a pair of black cars on the curb, a black SUV parked across the street. A man leaned over Lennox’s car and Tegan watched as his nostrils swelled as he scented the vehicle. Hound. Three more were getting out of the vehicles, two with hair as rust-red as Lennox’s.
Every instinct in him screamed to let the lion out. To defend his territory, home, family. Claws tipped his fingers and Tegan beat them back. Losing it now wouldn’t help anyone.
“Kanon, we need to move now.”
He started to turn off the television, anyone looking in would instantly know they were here, but then again, a Hound’s ears were every bit as sharp as a lion’s. If they’d already heard the television going, turning it off would be just as much of a clue. “Now,” he whispered, his voice faint, muffled by the television.
Kanon glanced at the window and went pale, instantly falling into a crouch. Tegan followed him, keeping low. They crept for the back door, keeping out of sight of the window. With a finger he moved the curtain aside and glanced out the sliding glass door. Another pair of Hounds crept through Melody’s back garden. Tegan let the curtain fall closed.
Damn. “Call Lennox again.”
He listened to the soft ring on the other end of Kanon’s phone, then Lennox’s voicemail kicked in. The woman on the news was advising people to stay safe, to stay out of shifter territory until this had settled. The number for Shifter Town Enforcement flashed at the bottom of the screen again. Their pictures reappeared in the top right corner and once again the lady asked people to call if they’d seen either of these men.
Tegan felt his whole body go cold.
“I don’t get it,” Kanon muttered, sliding his phone into his back pocket. “How the fuck did they know we’re here?”
Tegan didn’t know. Good luck? A tip? His throat went dry at the thought. “The killer found us in Colorado; it’s easy to assume he found us here. Called in a tip.”
But fast on the heels of that thought came another.
If the killer knew they were here and that Lennox was missing... What did that mean for Lennox? The Hound on the television hadn’t been named; they hadn
’t even given away the gender. The breed. It could easily be her, dead in Boulder Pride.
A knock sounded at the front door. “Shifter Town Enforcement, open up.”
Tegan glanced behind him again at the dark blue curtain hanging between them and a pair of Hounds, if not more. They were surrounded. Trapped. The knock banged again, rattling the front door. There was nowhere to go. To run, they’d have to fight and that would just make them guilty. According to the reporter they were only wanted for questioning.
An uneasy breath eased out of his lungs. It could be a lie, a trap, a set up. Walking up to that door, letting the Hounds in, giving themselves up...it could mean a bullet between the eyes. His gaze drifted back to the television. Lennox was missing or dead, but she didn’t feel dead. Besides, they’d shown her picture, they’d said she was missing; they had to mean she was still alive. They had to at least be able to tell who the dead Hound was right?
He hoped so. Something in his gut clung to the fact that she was still alive, still trying to save them all. Running wouldn’t help her.
Staying just might. It also might kill them.
“What are we going to do?”
Tegan shook his head as another door rattling knock sounded just as someone tried the handle above their head, the sliding glass door thankfully locked. “I don’t know.”
But they didn’t have much time to figure it out.
***
The long, yellowed grasses swayed, tugged by the soft afternoon wind. Heat bore down from the sky, just enough to make Caesar sweat as he crept through the edge of the forest and into Boulder Pride territory. Before it had been remarkably easy, the pride lax in their security. Fools, all of them, so content in their reign in Colorado that they thought they had nothing left to fear.
Still, Caesar hadn’t expected it to be so easy to take a pride male, but Rulon had been out wandering alone, hands stuffed in his jeans, his mind obviously elsewhere, that it had been so simple. This time, at least, he could expect more of a challenge. He paused behind an oak tree and leaned his head back against the bark, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
Just a little bit more and he’d have set the stage enough that the lions and Hounds would do the rest of the work. Just one more... His hands shook a little and he clenched them into fists at his sides, pressing them tight against his jean-clad hips. His stomach gnawed at him, in anxious, piercing stabs. He’d eaten, but it wasn’t enough. He needed sleep too. Food, sleep, and rest. His lips twitched. Bree was going to be suspicious, Lennox still hadn’t called in. He’d left his phone in his car because she hadn’t stopped calling.
She was worried for Lennox. Wanted to know what he knew.
No doubt now, she wanted to know where the hell he was.
His wife was hardly stupid; she’d be here, along with the rest of their pack, looking for Lennox and the lions responsible. It meant more than anything he couldn’t slip up. She didn’t need to know what he was doing for their daughter; she just needed to see the results. See that Arianna’s death had been avenged, that those monsters could never hurt another pup like they’d hurt her.
No more Hounds would lose their families to the real monsters in this world.
Caesar shut his eyes, hating the memory of little Arianna staring up at him in the hall. Her tiny hand wrapped in his. “I’m scared of the monsters, daddy.”
He’d tried so hard to show her there were no monsters in her closet or under her bed. He’d even shoved the window up in her room to let the cool air in. Like pixie dust, he’d told her. Her little face had pinched, not really sure she believed him. She’d worried her lip as he’d tucked her into bed, held tight to his hand when he’d tried to stand. “And the pixies will keep me safe?”
She hadn’t sounded so sure. She kept eyeing the shadows, the darkness, waiting for the monsters. Her face so dead set on whatever fear haunted her gaze that Caesar had turned, looking, fully expecting to see golden eyes staring out at him. Instead he’d seen the pink plastic brick wall of her dollhouse, an overstuffed toy box, and a dirty sock sitting in the opening of the closet door.
He’d smiled and brushed a kiss to her forehead. And like an idiot he’d told her yes and left her there. Caesar groaned softly into the wind, nails biting into his palms, his legs shaking. He would never forget her wide, amber eyes staring up at him, so scared.
So trusting.
He was her dad; he was supposed to keep her safe.
A growl shuddered up through his chest, rumbling through his bones all the way to his teeth where he stopped the sound cold. No. It would draw attention and he was damn well not about to fuck up his plans now. Caesar swallowed back the rage, the memories, he blinked back the tears.
If he’d have been able to find that son of a bitch, he’d have ripped him limb from limb. He’d have killed him, skinned him, and laid the dead man’s fur out over his floor in his living room, just so he could stomp over the monster every day for the rest of his life. But he’d settle for this. For every last one of them shot dead.
Caesar crouched low, the long grasses almost hiding him completely as he glanced out over the field stretching between him and the pride’s ranch spread. The low slung houses dotted the edge of the field, and he could see the rim of wooden fencing stretched out in miles in either direction, ringing in the savannah-like grasses. It was perfect lion territory.
It was also a pain in the ass to hunt in. A gruff snort roused from him and Caesar edged closer on two legs, keeping his ears keen for any sound. Voices rose and fell from the far side of the ranch, faint whispers at this distance, even for his dog-half and so he stalked closer. It was slow work, his thighs screaming by the time he’d crept half way across the field, constantly glancing at the windows. Waiting for a curtain to move, the flicker of a face scanning the fields, for a member of the pride to come strolling out of the house and into the yard.
It would have been easier as a dog, skimming the ground at a fast trot, belly slung low, so low that it would touch the ground as he crept close. But he couldn’t afford to waste the magick yet. He was beginning to tire, his control not at its best anymore. Soon. Soon it would all be over.
He just had to finish what he’d come here to do. Finally, his fingertips skimmed the smooth siding of the first house and he tilted his head, listening for the closest voices. A childish shriek sounded somewhere above his head, followed by the wild patter of feet and delighted giggles. Women laughed, cheerful. As if they didn’t care at all that one of their own had murdered a Hound.
Caesar snorted. They’d soon care.
He eased his way down the side of the house, ignoring the tremble in his thighs. His muscles worked with aching slowness, steady; even when his body wanted nothing more to collapse. But he could not mess this up. He swallowed, throat dry. A screen door slammed open and his pulse leapt, nerves grabbing hold of his heart and clamping down like steel. Caesar collapsed to the ground, breath held tight in his lungs.
A brown haired little girl scampered into view, her hair ruddy in the sunlight, cheeks littered with freckles. “Tilly!” The girl giggled and ran straight for the field, her blue skirt flapping wide behind her, bare feet making soft sounds against the dirt.
She twisted her head back, soft brown eyes almost begging him for a chase. Arianna. Caesar scraped the dirt under his hands and fought not to howl. No, no, no. She was dead. Dead. He couldn’t lose it now. But one look at the wild child running for the hills, carefree, so trusting in that one look, and...Arianna.
A woman bolted after her, a rush of air touching his face as she raced past him into the field, not even noticing him. Caesar held himself low, but the laughter inside continued. The floorboards creaked under soft feet but whoever it was only moved deeper into the house. Caesar turned back to the lioness, the little girl—his sweet Arianna—dodging around trees, as the woman did her best to catch the child. The lump in his throat made it hard to breathe.
He’d never dared to hope...
&nbs
p; He’d watched her buried! Caesar swayed, slipping forward a few steps. He craned his head to glance at the windows along the back of the house. The curtains still lay loose and heavy in front of the windows, no pale faces peeking out. It was his one chance. A lioness and Arianna back. Caesar leapt, his body falling smoothly into a run, his chest kept as low as possible without breaking stride. Magick streamed out behind him, causing his back to tremble, but he wiped the trail behind him as he ran. No Hound here could trace him.
Caesar Torres didn’t make mistakes. Not even now, with desperation riding him.
He was almost on them when the lioness spun, long hair whipping into her face as she turned to face him. Caesar leapt, arms spread wide. His shoulder slammed into her belly. There was an oomph as the wind was knocked from her lungs, then a thump as she hit the ground. He twisted, raking a hand across the side of her face. His thumb found the hollow just under her jaw, at her pulse, and he shoved pressure there, magick curling through his hand and straight through her skin.
She went limp.
Arianna stood there eyes wide, little pale, pink lips parted, and then she turned to bolt. Startled. Caesar caught her, wrapping a hand around her mouth as he pulled her back into the safety and shelter of the shadows left by the trees. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetling.”
Then with another pulse of magick, she went still in his arms.
Her head lolled back, leaving her face upturned to him, long eyelashes fluttering closed and Caesar shook under the weight of seeing her heart-shaped face again. Her freckles. He laid a kiss to the tip of her nose, one to her forehead. He picked up her hand and laid it out against his. She hadn’t changed at all. Still the same little girl he’d tucked into bed a year ago. Her hair was longer, lighter, not quite the rusty red, but sun had a tendency to bleach it.