“You keep that kind of cash on you?”
“Only when we go out on kidnapping cases. We’ve had more success on those with bribes.”
This approach was markedly different than any the pack had used up to this point. Then it hit me.
“Neely is human.” I thought it through. “You think money will get us answers faster.”
“When human mates or children of gwyllgi go missing, there’s no time for posturing or politics. They’re too fragile. We have to act fast, and money greases wheels quicker than threats or interrogations.”
“Who in their right mind would steal a gwyllgi’s mate or child and expect to survive it?”
“The culprits are usually human relatives, either concerned about a family member’s secretive lifestyle, if they’ve newly married into the pack, or the children’s wellbeing. Our young experience uncontrolled shifting at certain ages and are required to remain isolated on pack lands during that time.”
Close-knit families would freak if their loved ones fell off the radar. Those cases deserved sympathy.
“There are malicious incidents too,” Midas admitted, a growl in his voice, “but those are rarer.”
No imagination was required to picture a gwyllgi shoving cash down an informant’s throat until they choked on it when packmates’ lives were at risk. Or them making a withdrawal, the hard way, if it was discovered the informant was involved in any way.
“Cruz said vampires took Neely,” I recalled. “Will your method work on them?”
“I doubt it,” he admitted. “Chances are good we’re dealing with mercenaries.”
Everybody and their momma hired vampires to do their dirty work. It was a whole thing.
Kind of made me wonder why the Society didn’t require background checks on potential candidates.
Oh.
That’s right.
They were in it for the money.
“Marx’s is a human establishment,” he continued. “We figured better safe than sorry.”
Most clans were financially sound, thanks to the longevity of their members, but every system let people slip through the cracks. Mercenaries tended to hide in those crevices. The deeper and darker, the better.
They also worked for favors more often than cash. Big favors. High Society-sized favors.
“Your forethought paid off.” I noticed Bishop waving me over to him and the chatty doctor. “Gotta go.”
“I’ll deposit the phone in the nearest OPA drop box.”
“Thank you muchly.”
As if I hadn’t heaped enough onto Milo’s plate, I texted him to check the box nearest the restaurant for a surprise. The past three weeks, he had been helping me cover routine patrol so I could train and work cases that required my immediate oversight. I owed him big for bending over backwards for me.
The doctor held up a finger to Bishop then shoved through the ICU doors to the ward beyond.
“Reece ought to have the footage to analyze within the next half hour,” I told Bishop as I joined him. “Teens whose parents can afford to eat in places like that will have the newest phones. The video and sound quality ought to be excellent.”
“A kid with an ear for news and a blog for a platform ought to have a good eye too.”
“We can hope.” I reeled my thoughts back from Neely to focus on Cruz. “Where are we with this?”
“The good doctor is about to sign off on the transfer to a private hospital. We’ve got an all-para EMT team standing by to transport Cruz to the Faraday. We should have him secured within the hour.”
Torn on whether to press my luck, I decided to ask, “Can we see him before then?”
“Dr. Carpenter says Cruz has been asking for you. I don’t think we could avoid seeing him, frankly.”
“He’s tough, and I don’t mean for a human.”
“Maybe he’s got a distant warg relative,” Bishop mused. “That would explain his temper and his devotion to his mate.”
Humans didn’t mate, which Bishop knew, so he was attempting to distract me. I let him. Happily.
“Hmm.” I played along. “I’ll have to ask Neely if Cruz goes furry during the full moon.”
Please let me have the chance.
Or not, now that I thought about it.
There were things I didn’t need to know about Cruz Torres. His body hair density was one of them.
The doctor reappeared, launching chills down my nape, and indicated we should follow.
“Ms. Whitaker,” the vampire said when we fell in step with him. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“I appreciate you taking such good care of my friend.”
Cruz wasn’t technically my friend, but he was as friendly toward me as he got, which was close enough.
“Not at all.” He smiled, displaying straight white teeth. “I mated a warg, and she talks of nothing but the changes you’ve implemented in the city to improve the quality of life for shifters. It is I who am in your debt.”
Surprise must have shown on my face. Wargs ran hot, but vampires ran cold. Theirs was a rare pairing.
“Human friends set us up on a blind date,” he explained. “They didn’t know what we were or why it was a bold idea.” His voice softened. “Allie and I hit it off, but I doubt I would have followed up had she not started appearing at the hospital each night during my dinner break. She had set her cap at me, you see, and she gave me no choice but to love her back.”
“You have my sympathies,” I teased. “I was allowed few choices with my mate as well.”
Luckily, Midas and I were both stubborn and willing to fight for one another. It sounded like Allie had been ready to go as many rounds as it took for her man too.
“You must get asked this all the time—” he rubbed his nape, “—but would you take a photo with me?”
Vampires didn’t fangirl or fanboy over much of anything, but I could tell this meant a lot to him. Probably because his mate would flip over it. And I didn’t know what to do with that.
I wasn’t a celebrity to pose with. Not even the potentate yet. I was just me.
“Sure.” I pulled on my tour guide persona—handiest summer job ever—to produce the perfect smile. “A quick photo op never hurt.”
Bishop snapped the picture on the doctor’s cell while I cheesed it up for the camera.
“Let me show you to Mr. Torres’s room. I want to be on video chat with Allie when she sees this.”
He guided us to a small room with a glass front wall I hadn’t noticed then left, already dialing his mate.
“They’re printing Team Hadley shirts, you know.” Bishop held the door for me. “The trial is a spectator sport.”
Until he mentioned it, I hadn’t framed the doctor’s interest in that light. He might be getting an earful from his wife thanks to the public nature of the gauntlet. But merch? I did not want to see my mug on a mug, commemorative shirts, or hats.
“Ugh” was the best response I had to that. “Can it be over already?”
Our chatter had roused Cruz, who opened his bloodshot eyes at our approach. “Have you found him?”
His face was purple and swollen, but one of his knees looked like it had swallowed a watermelon.
“Not yet.” I kept a respectful distance. “Can you tell us what happened?”
“You ought to have video.” His snarl would do a warg proud. “There were traffic cameras six feet away.”
“We would like to hear a firsthand account of the events.” I strove for calm. “You might have noticed something the cameras didn’t pick up on. There was no audio. Did they say anything to you?”
“The first man out told his partner ‘there he is’ and aimed straight for my husband. The second man was on me before I could reach Neely.” He gestured to himself. “He made sure I couldn’t come after them then whispered, ‘Hadley would be smart to reconsider her career choices.’”
No wonder he had been so hot to see me prior to his transfer. This was my fault, and he want
ed me to know it.
A lead weight settled on my chest that made it difficult to get enough air. As much as I wanted to duck into the hall for a breather, it would be a reprieve from Cruz’s accusing stare I didn’t deserve.
The ransom demand I had been expecting to receive for Neely had just fallen into my lap.
Someone wanted me out of the running, probably the same someone who wrecked the obstacle course, but the threat gave us no real instruction, which must mean they would reach out with directions later.
“This is not Hadley’s fault.” Bishop stepped up to the foot of the bed. “Stop looking at her like you just scraped her off the bottom of your shoe.”
“It’s fine.” I touched Bishop’s arm. “Mr. Torres has a right to be upset.”
“Sure,” Bishop agreed too easily. “He’s also got the right to not blame you.”
This time, I bypassed the gentle approach and pinched Bishop hard enough he turned his mad on me.
“Can you think of anything else?” I wedged myself between them. “Anything at all?”
“It happened so fast.” A glossy sheen to Cruz’s eyes promised tears. “I couldn’t save him.”
“This isn’t your fault either.” I sank every ounce of conviction into my vow. “We’re going to find him.”
“I want to rest now.” He leaned back and shut his eyes. “I’ll get a message to you if I remember more.”
“You did the right thing.” I had to offer him some hope. “Calling me when you did might make all the difference.”
A nurse bustled in and fiddled with his IV. Before long, a relieved sigh parted his lips as he drifted off.
“He’ll rest easier during transfer this way.” She caught herself and winced. “You were done talking?”
“Yeah.” I waved aside her concern. “We’re done here.”
A sentinel I recognized as a member of the Atlanta Police Department greeted us at the door on our way out.
“I’m Chad Faulk.” He stuck out his hand. “I’ve been assigned to Mr. Torres for the next eight hours.”
“I appreciate the APD’s assistance.” I shook with him and clasped his shoulder. “Mr. Torres is a close personal friend of mine. His safety and health are of the utmost importance to me.”
“Understood.” He posted himself outside the door. “I have orders to use Reece as a point of contact.”
The familiarity in his tone perked my ears. “You know Reece?”
“He’s a friend of the family.” He winked. “Dated my mom for a while.”
“Whoa.” I rocked back on my heels. “Really?”
“No.” A snort shot out of him. “I’m a tech geek. He’s a tech geek. We met in a forum online.”
“That how you ended up here?” Bishop waded in. “We didn’t expect an escort for Cruz to the Faraday.”
“Check with Reece.” Faulk raised his hands. “He’ll vouch for me.”
“We’ll do that.” I left Bishop to watch Faulk and stepped down the hall to dial Reece. “Hey.”
“Faulk is an obnoxious chatterbox,” he said without preamble, “but he’s brilliant and a decent marksman.”
“You could have given us a heads-up he was going to meet us at the hospital.”
But it gave me the warm fuzzies that Reece had called in a favor for my friend.
“I should have,” he agreed but didn’t carry it any further. “I have the blogger’s phone.”
Midas must have dropped it close for Reece to be working on it so quickly.
The promise of a mystery to unravel would also explain why he forgot to text me about Faulk.
“Let me know when you crack it.”
“Midas bought the password off the owner.” Reece sounded glum. “I’ll have the files to you in ten.”
He ended the call with a huff, probably annoyed he had less work to do but still eager to get back to it.
“Faulk checks out,” I told Bishop, booking us a Swyft. “We’re clear to leave.”
“All right.” He swept his gaze over Faulk. “You up to this?”
“I want to join the OPA someday.” He switched off his teasing demeanor. “For now, this is as close as I can get.” He locked gazes with me. “I won’t let you down.”
Wondering if this was a subtle hint from Reece, I nodded. “I’ll keep you in mind.”
Our ride took its sweet time arriving, but Atlanta traffic was extra gnarly this time of night.
“Do you think it’s a coincidence?” I balanced on the edge of the curb. “Sue’s arrival then this?”
“Nothing in this life is coincidence.”
Neely was my most pressing concern, Cruz too. She ranked a distant third. “You think she’s part of it?”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?”
It would solve a lot of problems if I could unmask her as the villain Scooby-Doo style in under thirty minutes. Then I could save the day, rescue Neely, and set Cruz firmly on the road to recovery.
Sadly, real life didn’t work that way. For one thing, villains would suffocate wearing latex masks in the Georgia summer heat.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t visit her at her hotel.” A wicked glint lit his eyes. “Shake her up a bit.”
“Nah.” I dismissed it for the sole reason it would have felt good. “We need to follow real leads, not invent them.”
“Are you sure?” He stared down his nose at me. “I’m creative.”
Laughter was not the correct response when I could tell he meant it, but it still felt good.
Our driver arrived, his car perfumed with cigarette smoke, and we asked him to take us to Marx’s.
“There was a kidnapping there earlier tonight,” he warned us. “The whole place is swarming with cops.”
“I appreciate the warning.”
With a shrug that conveyed it was our money to waste, he lit up then set out for our destination.
We rode with the windows down, and the night air stroked its hands through my hair in a gesture I could pretend was the city soothing me. Minus the end result of a billion knots I would spend hours tonight untangling.
A block away from our destination, we gave up on the traffic, paid our tab, and braved the light drizzle. A barricade had been set up on the sidewalk outside Marx’s to keep out the curious, and there we met a familiar face.
“I wondered when you’d grace us with your presence.” Lizzy cocked an eyebrow. “Your man just left.”
Lizzy Frommel was the pack’s liaison with the Atlanta Police Department. She was a lawyer, but she was also an enforcer. Kind of like Rambo but with a law degree. She represented gwyllgi in police custody and made arrangements with the undercover sentinels to ensure justice was served outside human law.
Honestly, I had hoped to run into Midas. I could use a hug right about now. But Lizzy was a nice surprise.
“Well shoot.” I snapped my fingers. “I’ll have to be faster next time.”
Her laughter was cut and dry, as she tended to be. It suited her.
Curious how she ended up posted out in the rain, I glanced around in search of friendlies. “Does someone suspect pack involvement?”
“I was having dinner across the street.” She pointed out a pizza place. “That’s the only reason I’m here.”
“Ah.” I could sympathize. At least pizza reheated well. “Show us where the kidnapping took place?”
She escorted us to the curb in front of the entrance where the line formed at the dinner rush. I turned a slow circle, getting a feel for the area. The restaurant sat on a corner lot, which gave the kidnappers two streets to play with when they made their exit. There was no hint on the sidewalk that a man had gotten beaten for attempting to protect his husband, and there was no evidence on the busy roads either.
Our best hope was the video the blogger had taken, plus whatever Reece cobbled together from the various security feeds in the area. Still, I sent Ambrose out to search the area for any residual magics.
“Has the kidnapper made contact?”
Lizzy stood beside me. “Typically, they want ransom in these cases.”
With Neely’s ties to the Woolworth and Lawson families, he was worth a small fortune in the wrong hands, but the kidnappers had bigger ambitions.
A sentinel called Lizzy over, and she went with a grunt that spared me from stretching the truth.
The revelation Neely had been taken because of me, because of the gauntlet, hadn’t sunken in yet.
And yeah, I had no doubt the kidnappers’ stellar timing stemmed from my impending promotion.
“There’s nothing to see here.” I sensed when Bishop moved behind me. “I knew there wouldn’t be.”
Midas had already come and gone and given his report. This had been a waste of time we didn’t have.
The strike to my temple as Ambrose confirmed vampire involvement but nothing else reaffirmed it.
“You wanted to see it for yourself.” He stepped up to my side. “Get a feel for it.”
“I guess.” I surveyed the area one last time then checked my phone. “Reece has the video ready.”
“You want to head back to HQ or to the Faraday?”
“HQ.” I booked yet another Swyft. “The team needs to put its heads together.”
Unless the kidnappers knew I was Amelie Pritchard in another life, doubtful, I couldn’t see them choosing Neely based on any connection to me. Our acquaintance was too new under Hadley.
To zero in on a high-value target with deep ties to my current boss and his potentate fiancée took guts. I wasn’t the potentate yet. To snatch Neely on Atlanta’s soil promised the perpetrators disembowelment via scythe.
Not enough. Not enough. Not enough.
For Neely’s sake, I would have to be.
Three
Midas sat on the bench seat of Ford’s pickup, drumming his fingers on his thigh while Ford ordered them lunch from a fast-food chain heavy on the burgers and grease.
“Cruz was right.” He’d scented it for himself at Marx’s. “Vampires took Neely.”
“Hired or sent to do their master’s bidding?” Ford accepted four bags of food with a flirty smile from the woman at the window he pretended not to notice. “I heard Grier’s had vampire trouble in the past.”
The Epilogues: Part I: Badge of Honor (The Potentate of Atlanta Book 6) Page 3