Nikki returned Vanessa’s contagious smile. “Of course I can. It's the least I can do.”
At her words, the smile disappeared from Vanessa’s face, and she met Nikki’s eyes.
“Nikki, I'm only going to say this once. You don't owe anyone anything. You're Sam's friend and therefore family, and we protect our family. Do you understand?”
Nikki nodded, a little intimidated by the other woman.
Vanessa’s expression changed, and she smiled. “Good. Now I’ll—”
“Vanessa!” a deep voice hollered within the house just as a loud crash came from the living room.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “That devil child of mine,” she muttered, shaking her head. She turned to go inside but looked back over her shoulder. “Please don’t change your mind!”
Sam laughed again as Vanessa disappeared, and Nikki couldn’t help but chuckling herself. Ava promised to be a handful, and she was looking forward to it.
A few days later, Nikki was doubting her sanity as Ava evaded capture once more, giggling as she ran down the hall toward the open door.
“Ava! Get back here!” she yelled, sidestepping the fallen side table the toddler had knocked over in her haste to freedom. Just as she was about to make it, strong arms nabbed her, throwing her in the air. Amidst giggles and growling noises, Nikki bent over, breathing hard as she spied the laughter in Travis’s eyes.
“Your child is a monster,” she said, gasping for air.
“Told you.” Travis laughed.
He looked down at her in sympathy. “Take a break. My meeting with the betas is over, so I got my monster.”
“Me not a monster!” Ava shouted.
Nikki heaved a grateful sigh and straightened, eyeing the little girl. She couldn’t help grinning at the mischievous gleam in the brat’s eyes. “Yes, you are.”
She took off down the steps before Travis could change his mind, leaving them arguing about Ava being a monster.
Chapter 11
The two men and a woman sat in the corner, their black suits a stark contrast to the colorful environment of the hotel dining room. Special Agent James Kingston didn’t care about the stares, the interest they were attracting. They were used to it. With every mission, keeping a low profile was almost laughable unless they completely redid their look and attitudes, but the FBI had a certain protocol to follow; catering to each town was not one of them.
“Has the local police department been contacted?” he asked quietly, sipping his black coffee as he looked down at the neatly stacked papers in front of him. Dealing with the local authorities was a pain in the ass but something that couldn’t be overlooked.
“Yeah, and they aren’t happy, but the chief understands,” the other man, Kail Walls, answered sarcastically, drinking his own coffee. Both over six feet, with black hair combed back and spiked in the front, the two men were often mistaken for brothers. Their brown eyes showed the same intensity and commanding stare. But whereas the men were dark and intimidating, the woman by their side, Jenna Oakland, couldn’t have been more different if she tried. Small and petite, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, her light blue eyes smiling and sympathetic, she was often overlooked and underestimated, which worked for the group perfectly.
“We have a meeting at ten this morning with him,” Kail finished.
James nodded and mentally checked that off their list. After arriving in Portland the night before, the small group had barely slept, working much of the night to gather what they needed for the so-called meeting that was more of a courtesy thing on the FBI’s part than anything else.
After nearly ten years pursuing this bastard, they finally had him, and this time, they weren’t going to let the pissing match between the two branches ruin the mission. Every time there was a fuckup, their target went underground, usually with five or six girls, his trail cold for years.
“And Jackson is sure he’s here?” Kail asked.
James nodded grimly. Jackson Maddox, ex-military and a loner, was an old friend of his and knew of many of his cases, this one being one of the major ones. Jackson had always told him he would keep a look out for James in his travels. Jackson’s OCD attention to detail paid off with his latest call, as he was pretty sure the man he kept running into around town was the man James was after. So here they were, ready to nail the bastard against the wall and put a stop to the sex trafficking ring that was one of the biggest in recent history. They had managed to break links all over the United States but had never managed to get the man behind the organization.
Until now.
“While you two head to the police department, I’m taking the first detail,” Jenna said quietly.
James nodded again. They all knew they had to get on this now before it was too late. There was no wasting time, and with that thought running through all their minds, they stood up as one, ignoring the curious stares that followed their fluid movements.
Once outside, the two black SUVs went in opposite directions, with Jenna going left toward the large mansion on the island and James and Kail going right.
Twenty minutes later, they pulled up outside of a large brick building, the large lettering on the front signaling their destination: POLICE DEPARTMENT.
James and Kail slammed their vehicle doors and headed inside, keeping their eyes narrowed and alert.
The cold air conditioning hit them in the face and was a welcome relief from the mid-summer heat outside.
James slid his dark sunglasses to the top of his head, Kail doing the same, just as a large man walked out of an office to the right, his black hair sprinkled with gray along his temples.
His brown eyes penetrating as they zoomed in on the two of them, James let loose a small sigh of relief. He was a damn good judge of character, and from the looks of the man coming toward them, their small task force hopefully wouldn’t have a pissing match this go around, thank God. They couldn’t afford another screw-up or more innocent girls would die, and James refused to let that happen.
The man stopped in front of them and held out his hand, his handshake firm. He didn’t mince words but got right to the point. James’s respect for the cop in front of him went up.
“Chief Wilson. Follow me, gentleman.”
With that, he turned and led the way back to his office, shutting the door behind Kail.
“Have a seat.”
They took their seats in front of the large desk, and the chief sat down, his chair squeaking in protest as he leaned back.
“You were vague on the phone. What is this about?”
James took a page from the other man’s book and, for the first time he could remember, decided to lay his cards on the table. Well, most of them anyway. He needed to keep Jackson’s part out of it. There was more to the other man than most people knew, and he wanted to keep it that way.
“For the past ten years, the FBI has been after a sex trafficking ring, and we believe the base is here in Portland.”
The chief stiffened, and his eyes narrowed as he straightened.
“You’re sure? You’re not going to tear up and cause panic in my town over a hunch. I don’t care if you are the FBI.”
James wasn’t offended. In fact, he really liked the man in front of him and nodded confidently. He trusted Jackson completely. If he said Edward Calhoun was living in Portland, then this wasn’t a hunch but fact.
“I’m positive.”
The chief cursed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck. Okay. What do you want from us, since you guys obviously have the lead on this.”
James, hoping he would say that, started to lay out his plan.
Chapter 12
Bret was changing in his room after meeting with the Alpha and the other betas and caught a flash of color, a movement out of the corner of his eye and looked out the window, spying Nikki walking toward the woods. He also saw Zach a few yards behind her, keeping his distance, giving her space. She looked deep in thought, and the sight of her stole his breath.
Grinning, he jogged down the stairs and made his way outside, heading in the direction he had seen Nikki walk. His long strides eating up the ground, he soon caught up with Zach, who turned and nodded to him before heading back to the house, leaving Bret to watch her.
Pausing next to the small stream behind the house, she stared down into the shallow water.
“It's been years since I've been here,” she said quietly. Kneeling, she trailed the gentle stream with a finger, her beautiful profile still lost in thought.
“It's a beautiful place.”
She stood up and sighed, wrapping her arms around her waist. “You know, I know nothing about you. And yet”—she turned to look at him, the blue of her eyes sinking deep into his heart—“almost from the first time we met, I wasn't scared of you. Something about you…”
“Nikki,” he whispered, taking those few steps closer to her. Their gazes locked as he took that last step, bringing him as close as possible without touching her. The world faded, the threats of death non-existent at that moment.
His eyes fell to her lips, lips that trembled slightly beneath his gaze.
He lowered his head and hesitated, his gaze moving back up to her eyes, to see any form of objection in their blue depths.
There was none.
With a gentleness that belied the raging desire to grab her and throw her over his shoulders, to claim her as his mate, he pulled her slowly into his arms and lowered his head, bringing his lips to hers. He licked the seam of her lips, and she opened her mouth, letting his tongue slide in to mate with hers.
Sighing, she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her flush up against his chest. His kiss deepened, their mouths open, tongues tangled and dancing to a dance that only made sense to them.
Breathing heavily, harder than he could ever remember, Bret drew back reluctantly. If it had been up to him, he could have kept kissing her for hours, but he didn't want to scare her, didn't want to rush her past what she was comfortable with.
“My favorite color is blue,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers, trying to get his breathing under control. “I love dogs. My parents died when I was a child—house fire. I joined the military right out of high school, and I've been with the pack since returning,” he finished, summing up his past in a few short sentences.
“And I'm crazy about you,” he added softly.
Silent, she stared at him, and he almost panicked, unable to read her eyes, read what she was thinking.
“Bret…”
Suddenly scared about what she was about to say, he put his finger on her lips, silencing her.
“It's okay. You don't have to say anything.”
He started to draw back, but she stopped him, her small arms tightening around his neck. “It's not that, Bret. My husband…”
He saw her throat work as she swallowed and the fear return to her beautiful eyes. He hated it—hated that she was so scared.
“He won't be a threat much longer. I'm going to kill him, Nikki. That's a fact. If that scares you, the fact that I can take a man’s life so easily, tell me now because that's who I am. I protect my own.”
“But I'm not yours,” she whispered.
The fact that her eyes betrayed her words caused his heart to jump with joy. He couldn't blame her for being so scared, so leery, but her words hadn't matched the emotion he could see in her eyes, and that thrilled him.
“Yes, you are.”
With that, he pulled back, and her arms dropped down to her sides.
“But it's okay. I can wait forever for you to admit that fact because I'm not going anywhere.”
Taking her hand, he intertwined his fingers through hers as they started to make their way back to the house, Nikki silent.
They hadn’t been gone long, making it back just in time to see Travis standing on the porch, scanning the yard. As soon as his eyes lit on them, he relaxed.
“Inside,” he said tensely, his eyes scanning the empty yard.
Bret stiffened but didn’t argue.
“What’s going on?” he asked tensely, walking in behind Nikki. She kept trying to stop and talk to Travis, but Bret kept nudging her inside until the door was closed behind them. Everyone was in the living room, standing or sitting around—Zach, Noah, Vanessa, and Aiden—with Travis, Nikki, and Bret walking in to complete the group.
Nikki walked over beside Sam on the couch and sat down, still watching Travis, her fear evident in her eyes and pallor.
Travis and Nikki locked gazes. “A body’s been discovered on the east side of the ridge, a few yards from the border of the property.”
Everyone was silent.
“Who was it?” Nikki whispered, her hands clenched in her lap. Bret saw her twisting her fingers together, but like Noah and Zach, true to military form, he stood behind Travis. It was time to be an enforcer, not a man craving to comfort the woman he—
He halted that thought and blanked his mind as he listened.
“We don't know,” Travis said grimly. “The body is beyond recognition. We’re doing a roll call now.”
Nikki gasped.
Bret didn't know it was possible, but she went even paler, her waxy skin a pasty white.
She stood up slowly and stepped away from the couch, away from everyone.
“How?” she whispered harshly, her eyes on Travis. His eyes narrowed, but he answered her.
“Burnt,” he said bluntly, watching her intently.
Nikki looked as if she was going to pass out, and Bret started to take a step toward her, out of alignment with the other men, but he stopped, forcing himself to remain still.
“My husband's associate. That's his signature. He has a thing about fire—s-smelling t-the flesh.”
“Name,” Travis barked.
Nikki jumped, and her throat worked as she struggled to swallow. She wrapped her arms around her waist. “D-Donny Johnson.”
Bret saw her rub her arms as if she were rubbing something off, and his own eyes narrowed as his thoughts raced. “Nikki,” he said quietly.
She turned and looked at him, still rubbing her arms.
“Did he ever burn you?”
He didn't know why the thought had crossed his mind. It could have been the horror in her eyes, the pain, or the rubbing, but the thought was out, and he saw the answer in her wide eyes.
He cursed.
Sam jumped up, her own eyes wide and glassy with tears. “Oh, Nikki.”
Nikki pulled away before Sam could hug her and looked over at Travis.
“He lives in this tiny house outside of town. T-there is a b-basement-like chamber beneath it though. There's a few bones,” she whispered. Bret saw her shiver and felt her fear, her pain, and his bear roared, standing on its hind legs as the rage of the animal gave him a headache.
Death. Die. Bastards need to die!
Bret agreed with his whole heart.
“My brother…” Sobs shook her small frame. “My brother died in a burning car, trapped. I-I think D-Donny k-killed him.”
Bret lost it. He almost jumped over the coffee table in his rush to get to her, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. She wrapped her arms around his waist and cried, the soft sobs affecting everyone in the room. The women had tears in their eyes while the men had rage, their animals barely controlled within the mental chains as the silence lengthened and grew, no one saying a word.
Nikki hadn't thought she had any more tears left—for her brother, the horror of her husband, for the lives taken too soon—but she'd been wrong. Hearing the name of the man who had taken pleasure in torturing her, and who she had always known had killed her brother, brought it all back, even more vivid than before.
Exhausted, she leaned against Bret’s chest, barely able to stand. If it hadn't been for him, she would have collapsed.
She didn't say anything as Bret picked her up, the floor moving beneath her with each step he took. A few mumbled words rumbled from his chest as he walked out of th
e living room, heading up the stairs. A door opened and a soft mattress. Tiredness. Her eyes felt heavy, but when he drew back, she grabbed his arm, panicked.
Please,” she whispered. “Please don't leave me.”
Without a word, he lay down next to her, and she curled beside him, a shiver running through her. Her eyes closed, and her breathing evened out as sleep claimed her.
Four wolves and a bear.
Thankfully, they were outside of town, but their motive for letting their animals take charge was uppermost in their rage. Thanks to Nikki's directions, the run-down house hadn't been hard to find. So that they had the cover of darkness, they had waited until nightfall.
The bastard wasn't home. At first glance, it looked abandoned. Weeds grew around the doors, the sideway cracked and pieces missing. The porch only had a few slats keeping it together. They walked around to the back door where Nikki had said the basement entrance was located, and Bret nudged open the back door. Creeping in, his large paws bore his seven-hundred-pound weight.
Basement.
Bret acknowledged Travis's thought with a nod of his large head, and together, they looked for the hidden door.
A closet in the kitchen revealed a staircase leading to an underground room, and Travis headed down first, the stairs creaking beneath their weight. The smell of burnt flesh hit their nostrils, and Bret felt sick at the thought of someone else suffering.
Whimpering met their ears, and when they got to the bottom, they found the cells against the concrete wall, a mini prison beneath the house. Bret's dark eyes scanned the shadows until they lit on the last cage. Something, someone, was within the metal bars.
Another whimper had them moving, and with a single thought and mild objection from his bear who craved the bastard's flesh in his jaws, he was the first to shift, bones cracking and reforming filling the silence. On his own two feet, Bret, naked, headed for the far cage, the wolves behind him, watching. Suddenly, Travis shifted as well and stood behind him.
“Son of a bitch,” Travis whispered. Even though he was shifted and standing, his wolf’s hair covered his face, and his eyes gleamed red in the dark.
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