For the Good of All

by Nicky Charles

  He returned to his human form, hands clenched at his side as his gaze skimmed over the bits of clothing and bone that remained, forlorn fragments of the humans they had once formed.

  “Shallow graves mean the burial was quick, the only purpose was to get rid of the bodies.” He communicated his observations to his wolf, a habit he’d developed over years of being by himself. “A lack of markers or rocks to deter scavengers indicates the dead individuals were likely considered outsiders.”

  His wolf twitched its ears and drew his attention to the scattering of the remains. Animals have been raiding the site, digging up the bodies, fighting over various bits and carrying off whatever pieces weren’t immediately consumed. Only scraps of clothing and bone are left.

  Stone concurred as he carefully picked his way through the morbid scene, insects taking flight around him as he disturbed their feasting on the last few bits of remaining flesh and bone. The ecosystem of a rainforest was decidedly efficient, but not for those with a weak stomach.

  He examined the shreds of cloth and bone, viewing them as inanimate objects that could provide essential clues. His efficiency would be compromised if he allowed himself to think of them as members of a young idealistic family with hopes and aspirations.

  His wolf wasn’t quite as detached, a constant rumble rising from its throat. We need to avenge their deaths.

  “We will,” Stone reassured the beast. “Just as we have on other missions. When the time is right, we’ll mete out justice.”

  A skull, half buried, caught his attention and he crouched to take a closer look, gently brushing the concealing leaves away. It showed the cause of death. A bullet to the back of the head. They’d been shot, execution style, not even allowed to face their killers.

  He clenched his jaw, a muscle ticking as he struggled to control his rage. Had they been forced to beg for their lives, for the lives of their children, only to be denied once stripped of their dignity? The bastards who had done this would receive equal treatment if he had his way.

  Pushing to his feet, he continued his search. The femur he found had belonged to an adult, a male given the size. The collar bone and scapula was finer, likely a female. Part of a brassiere, a leather loafer, some denim; the remains of clothing had belonged to adults.

  “No evidence of children,” he concluded, “though it could mean the smaller remains had been easier to carry off.”

  Or perhaps the pups are still alive. His wolf pointed out.

  “Let’s hope so. We’ll check out the house, see if we can find any trace of them.”

  Stone shifted back to wolf form and retraced his steps to his original path. The Lycan Embassy wasn’t far away and soon he was hunkered down under a leafy bush, studying the area.

  Men were posted around the perimeter, militia from the looks of it. They were wearing camo, carrying assault rifles and extra ammunition. Narrowing his eyes, he noted similar tattoos on their arms, likely some kind of membership mark. Something or someone of significance must still be at the former embassy if it warranted guarding. Perhaps the building was now being used as a checkpoint. With the main Cantalan river close by, it would be a prime location for supervising the transportation of drugs to the coast. And if the embassy was in use, there wasn’t much chance that the Duffy children were still inside. He’d need visual confirmation of that fact though and that meant looking inside the house.

  It was definitely not your typical jungle abode, more of a luxury retreat. The Duffys had certainly spared no expense when choosing their home. It was a large, sprawling one storey building made of stone with a low-pitched tile roof and a veranda surrounding the entire structure. Windows dotted the walls, some shuttered while others were wide open likely in the hopes of catching a breeze. A cobblestoned drive led up to the building and pots of exotic flowers flanked the front door. Around the house, small terraced areas with flower laden pergolas dotted the garden. Each was connected to the next by a water feature that eventually spilled into a large swimming pool. The area around it had been cleared of most of the trees so light spilled into the garden. Clusters of long ornamental grasses grew near the walls and flowering shrubs created a variety of edges and focal points. The serendipitous location of shrubs and shadows would work in his favour, making it possible for him to reach the building unseen.

  The posted guards had the bored appearance of someone who didn’t expect any action, but Stone knew better than to underestimate them. In some parts of the world, his wolf could pass as a stray dog and that would buy him some leeway, but dogs weren’t pampered pets here. If he was seen, they’d probably shoot at him just for the target practice. Not that he valued his own life that much, but he had a job to carry out first.

  Keeping one eye on the gun-bearing men, he edged closer. Scents assaulted him. Food, smoke, stale sweat, at least a dozen different humans and…two young Lycans. He gave a satisfied nod; the children had somehow managed to survive. Now all he had to do was locate exactly where they were.

  Inching along on his belly, he used the tall grasses and shrubs as cover, pausing by each window to rise on his hind legs and peer inside. The first room was empty. The second wasn’t. A guard stood at the door, two others were flanking a man whose hands were bound behind him. A fifth man sat at a desk, his fingers steepled, his face disapproving.

  The bound man was speaking.

  “¡No es mi culpa! It’s not my fault. I swear. El barco, the boat, it must have had a leak.”

  “It was your boat so it was your duty to ensure it was well maintained.” The man leaned back in his chair. “The products were wet when they were delivered.”

  “I had them wrapped in plastic like I was told. It was the men at the dock. They dropped them.”

  “Still blaming others. It’s a character weakness, not taking responsibility for your actions.”

  “I was responsible. I was!” The man was visibly shaking now.

  “¡Silencio! That’s your opinion, not mine.” The seated man looked at the others in the room. “I think he needs to become a lesson for the rest of the transportation crew, don’t you?” They nodded and grabbed the man’s arms.

  “¡No! ¡Por favor! Mi familia. I have children to support! Mi esposa, my wife, she’s having a baby any day!” The man pleaded, struggled.

  Stone and his wolf trembled with the need to act, to leap through the window and free the man. He couldn’t though. The three guards were armed and the man at the desk likely was too. He’d be shot, the bound man would still die and no one would be left to look for the Lycan pups. A knot formed in his chest as he tried to think of a way to save the man without compromising his mission. Perhaps the gods heard him, for the man’s next words provided a window of hope.

  “I haven’t had any target practice lately. I think he’d make an excellent one, don’t you? Tie him up in the shed out back hasta mañana, until tomorrow. We’ll gather some of the locals to watch the show. That way, they’ll see what fate awaits those who don’t uphold their end of our business deals.”

  Still begging for mercy, the man was dragged from the room, and Stone vowed to find a way to free him before he left.

  As the door shut, the man at the desk pulled out a deck of cards.

  Cards? No…not ordinary cards. It looked like a tarot deck. And there were several dishes sitting on tables around the room, smoke slowly rising from them. Could this be Emilio Mendoza? The man was supposedly very superstitious, trying to ward off danger and evil spirits with herbs and incense.

  A few dried leaves will not protect him from justice, his wolf scoffed.

  Stone concurred. He’d ensure the bastard got what he deserved eventually but first he had to find the pups and get them out. Then he’d be able to go after Mendoza.

  He dropped to all fours and continued his search. The next two rooms were empty. On his fifth stop, he hit pay dirt. Two children were sleeping in a crib, their arms around each other despite the heat.

  He cocked his head studying them.
They looked healthy though shadows showed beneath their eyes and dried tears stained their round cheeks. Their breathing was steady and deep. Too deep? A brown medicinal looking bottle sat on the table beside them. Had they been drugged to keep them quiet? Perhaps.

  Why they’d been allowed to live, he had no idea. Children had to be a hindrance to a drug operation unless… He bit back a snarl at the thought of the young ones being victims of human trafficking. It was a known fact that drug cartels were expanding their range of business.

  He sat down and considered his options. Coming in guns blazing held a certain appeal, but the odds were still against him and the children could be caught in the crossfire. Stealing them away in the night was the best option. And if they had indeed been drugged, that would play in his favour; no terrified cries when a strange man scooped them out of their bed.

  To ensure he knew what he was up against, he finished investigating the other windows and found four more people inside the house. Those four, plus the guards inside and out, Mendoza and who knew how many people coming and going equalled a sizeable force that he was up against. It would take stealth and careful timing, but the rescue was possible.

  About to leave, he heard the approach of a vehicle from the opposite direction. A rough track cut through the jungle connecting the house to a nearby village. When Reno had pointed it out during their planning sessions, they’d both immediately dismissed its use as too open. Instead they’d opted for the more rigorous but covert route he and Christina had taken.

  Someone, however, wasn’t worried about being discovered. Stone slunk into the shadows curious as to who else was part of the group.

  The vehicle stopped in front of the house. From his vantage point, he could only see the legs of the person exiting the expensive ride but vision wasn’t necessary to make an identification. A familiar scent drifted by, one he’d noted just the other night. A memory clicked into place. Dante!

  His wolf trembled, barely able to restrain itself. This is the one we’ve been tracking for ages. To be so close and yet unable to attack.

  “Wait,” Stone murmured. “The time will come. First, we need to know what the bastard is doing here.”

  Dante came into view looking more tanned than the last time Stone had seen him but otherwise much the same. Strands of grey streaked his dark hair, his face still showed signs of hard living, lines bracketing his mouth. He did appear more fit than before or perhaps it was just the effect of well-tailored clothes. Stone narrowed his eyes, subtle differences now becoming apparent as he climbed the few steps of the veranda.

  The man’s walk was more confident, his back straighter. The desperate, calculating look Stone had always associated with Dante had been replaced by cool shrewdness.

  Curious.

  The door opened and Mendoza exited.

  “Dante.”

  “Emilio.”

  The two men shook hands, then sat down at a small table situated near a flowering vine. The heady scent of the blossoms was overwhelming and a number of bees and hummingbirds darted about trying to partake of the sweet nectar.

  “A lovely location.” Dante reached up and plucked a bud, twirling it between his fingers. “Much nicer than your previous one.”

  “I thought so. It’s well situated for my business.”

  “With the river so near, you can supervise your shipments.”

  “My thoughts exactly. I’m surprised Reyes didn’t use this place.”

  “Perhaps that’s why you managed to overtake the area. You’re obviously more of a visionary than he is.”

  “Flattery, Dante?”

  “Just an observation.” He gave a negligent shrug. “And the owners of this place—?”

  “Are no longer a factor.”

  “Ah.” Dante nodded. He gave the flower bud a final twirl before allowing it to drop to the ground. “I must admit, I was surprised to hear from you so soon. I thought you’d be solidifying your grip on your new territory.”

  “Reyes had the basic infrastructure in place; los agricultores grow la marijuana, there are people who ship it down the river to la costa. If you grease the right palms, the port authorities look the other way.”

  “It sounds like you have things under control.”

  “Si. I am focusing my efforts on the sex trade right now. Las mujeres, los ninos. The younger they are the better the price.”

  “You do keep your eye on the dollar, don’t you?”

  “Ha! You are a fine one to talk. You know as well as I do that la trata de personas, human trafficking, is very profitable.” Mendoza winked at Dante. “It only requires proper contacts, si?”

  Dante nodded. “I’m glad we’ve been able to form a working relationship.”

  “Which brings me to the purpose of this visit. Something was dropped into my hands that I felt you could help me with.”

  “Indeed?”

  “Yes, I have two pequeño packages. With the connections you have, I’m sure you could find buyers for them.”

  Dante inclined his head. “Possibly. Where did they come from?”

  “They were left behind by the original owners of this place.”

  Someone appeared with refreshments and Dante took a long, slow drink. “I’ll have to check the condition of the items. My associate will want a guarantee that we’re getting what we’re paying for.”

  Stone frowned. His associate? Who was Dante working with now?

  “They’re in the back room.”

  “They’ve not caused you any trouble?”

  “The liberal use of cough syrup has kept them tranquilo.”

  “Be careful how much you give them. If they’re impaired in any way, the price goes down.”

  The pleasant smile left Mendoza’s face. Apparently, he wasn’t used to being chastised. “Then I suggest you arrange for pickup sooner rather than later. Mis guarda espaldas are not suited to babysitting. We want our products moved through the system quickly.”

  Stone mentally cursed. He’d been correct; the pups were about to become victims of human trafficking. But Dante knew they were Lycan. What was the bastard up to?

  “Understood. A fast turnover is desirable for both of us.”

  “Then when?”

  “Once I’ve done a visual confirmation, my associate, Sister Denise, will arrive tomorrow to take them off your hands.”

  Sister Denise? Stone frowned as a nasty suspicion began to take root within him.

  “And payment?”

  “You’ll get your percentage once the sale is made.”

  “I could demand payment first.”

  Dante set down his drink very slowly. “And I could walk away, leaving you with nothing but two snotty brats.”

  “Exacto.” Emilio laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained. No hard feelings?”

  “None at all. Let me see the goods and I’ll be on my way.”

  The two men stood and crossed the veranda. Stone inched backwards, thankful the light breeze was blowing his scent away. That combined with the flowers and Emilio’s herbs stinking up the air should cover his scent. Even so, he held his breath until Dante was inside. There’d been no pause in the man’s step, no sign that Dante knew another Lycan was in the area.

  Time for a strategic retreat. He’d free the man in the shed tonight. Doing so any earlier might endanger rescuing the pups; a missing prisoner would put everyone on alert. Stone faded back into the jungle, his mind rapidly calculating the time and distance he had to travel, the steps that needed to be taken. Head back to the base camp, collect Christina, return here after nightfall. Yes, he’d definitely need her assistance. Speed would be of the essence. Once the children’s absence was noted, a search would be launched. He’d have to quickly put as much distance as possible between the drug lord’s gang and themselves. The possibility that the pups might fall into the hands of Dante and Sister Denise made his blood run cold.

  Chapter 8

  Tina sat on a rock by the river
, idly swatting at bugs and attempting a few spells and hexes. With nothing else to do, it seemed as good a way as any to pass the time. Gwyneth would be so proud, she thought wryly. The woman was always after her to practise.

  So far, she’d managed to cause a small curl of smoke to appear in the fire pit she’d dug. It hadn’t burst into flames like it was supposed to though and she’d soon given up since the effort was giving her a headache. Using a match or a lighter was so much easier.

  After that, she’d switched to hexes, not because they were easier but because, if they worked, the results were more satisfying. Hers, unfortunately, usually went horribly wrong, probably because she only attempted them when she was angry. There’d been an incident in high school when she’d tried to hex a teacher over a bad grade and instead had caused the student council president’s shoe laces to tangle together. The poor guy had fallen and broken his nose. And then there’d been the time someone had rear-ended her in the parking lot. Every drum in the school’s marching band, which happened to be practising in the nearby football field, had suddenly burst rather than the offending driver’s tires.

  Hexes were her downfall. Boredom, however, had her giving them another try. Surprisingly, she managed to hex a bee, causing it to circle a flower a dozen times rather than immediately landing.

  “Yay!” She cheered, pleased with her accomplishment. “Take that, Mr. Bee!”

  Her concentration broken, the hex dissipated and the bee landed on the flower seeming not to care that she’d bested it just moments before.

  “Today a bee, tomorrow the world!” Tina laughed at her own silliness. Buoyed with success, she was ready to try another. She looked around for something else to hex.

  There was a… Well… Her shoulders slumped. Nothing really worthy of a hex was in sight. Sure, the bugs circling her deserved to be hexed, but their close proximity made her leery of trying in case it somehow backfired and she injured herself.

  Maybe it was better to stop while she was ahead.