by Kayla Wolf
”Not no way,” Daniel said, looking thoughtful. “You know there’s a way of tracing where a phone call came from, right? Cell towers and stuff. I have an online buddy who’s really into it. If you give me your phone, I can go now and see if he can help.”
”Seriously?” Lachlan stared at Daniel. “That would be—are you sure?”
”Can’t hurt to ask, right?” Lachlan handed his phone over, and Daniel got to his feet. “I’ll go talk to him now. If he can get me a location… I suggest we hit it at the same time they proposed meeting for the ransom.”
Lachlan nodded, his jaw tight. “One way or another, we’re looking at a fight, here. Are you guys okay with that?”
”Of course we are,” Bryce said. It meant a lot, coming from the quiet guy of their group, and Lachlan smiled at him, full of gratitude. “Serena’s great. We want her back as much as you do.”
”And we want to stick it to these scumbag wolves once and for all,” Harvey said in a low voice, his eyes blazing with anger.
”The guy on the phone mentioned something about us killing his Alpha?” Lachlan said, tilting his head. “I know I’m kind of new around here, but I don’t remember that being part of the story I heard—”
Harvey gritted his teeth. “Wolves lie. There was a fight a few decades ago where they lost their Alpha, yeah. Bet they didn’t mention they took out a dozen of our guys, too. People die in wars. And not to be childish about it, but they goddamn started it.”
Lachlan put a hand on Harvey’s shoulder. “We’ll sort them out, buddy. I promise.”
Harvey took a deep breath—but the conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door squeaking. Dressed in her pajamas, looking uncharacteristically sleepy and quiet, Delilah came toddling down the corridor, rubbing blearily at one eye with her favorite toy horse trailing behind her in her other hand. She peered around at the six men in the living room without fear, but there was a searching look on her face—and a distinct look of disappointment when she didn’t find what she was looking for. The dragons all looked down at her, and Lachlan opened his arms to offer her a hug—but she just frowned at him instead of running over to him like she usually would have.
”S’rena,” she mumbled, peering around the room. “Where’s Serena?”
Lachlan’s heart just about broke in that moment. He got to his feet and went to his daughter, lifting her sleepy little body into his arms and holding her tight against his chest. No matter how big she got, he knew he’d always love holding her like this. If he could just keep her in his arms like this forever, nothing would ever be able to hurt her.
”Serena,” she said insistently, wiggling in his grip a little.
”She’s not here, baby,” Lachlan explained sadly. How was he meant to tell a three-year-old that her favorite new person had been taken away by bad guys? She blinked into his face with those huge dark brown eyes, so trusting. He took a deep breath. He’d made a promise, long ago, that he’d never lie to his daughter. So this was a promise. “She’ll be back soon, Delilah.”
”Soon?” She hated that word, he knew—there was a look of suspicion on her face. “When?”
”Soon,” he said again. What else could he tell her? She wasn’t happy with his answer, he could tell—but a huge yawn stopped her from asking him any more questions, her sleepiness winning it from her stubbornness for once. He carried her back to bed and tucked her in, taking a moment to make sure she was settled in and peacefully asleep before he headed back out to the guys.
”Daniel headed out to talk to his Internet guy,” Bryce said, gesturing at Daniel’s empty chair. “There’s not much else we can do until morning.”
”Yeah, there is,” Lachlan said, looking around at his friends. “We head home, we get some sleep, and we get ready for tomorrow.”
The living room felt oddly empty once the guys had all left. Lachlan sat on the couch for a while, finishing his stew and trying to get his thoughts in order. One way or another, there was going to be a fight tomorrow. He didn’t trust the wolves to give them Serena back, even if they did do what the wolves had asked and bring the ransom—not with so much bad blood between the two groups. It was strange, being a newcomer to this community. He was a water dragon like the others, but it wasn’t his fight—he hadn’t been part of this group during the cataclysmic conflict that Harvey, in particular, was still so hung up on. But when he’d moved here, when he’d accepted this leadership role, he’d known he was accepting the community with all of its history and baggage. Whether or not he’d been there, this conflict was his conflict, too.
And he was damn well going to do his best to put an end to it. Not just to save Serena—but to create a better future for his daughter, and for the rest of the dragons of the community. He wasn’t the kind of guy who went looking for fights, and he knew he was a little out of practice… but having lived a life on the road, he’d had plenty of practice fighting for his life. It wasn’t the kind of thing that you forgot easily. And besides—he wasn’t just fighting for his own life, now. He was fighting for Serena. Fighting for Delilah. Fighting for the little family he’d made—fighting for his people, fighting for the home he was trying to make here on this beautiful peninsula on the edge of the ocean. The wolves could try to take that from him—but they weren’t going to like what they found when they tried.
His stew finished, Lachlan carried his bowl to the kitchen, feeling a grim kind of clarity settling in his mind. Gone was the panic and anxiety of the day. He knew exactly what he needed to do.
He just pitied any wolf who tried to get in his way.
Chapter 16 – Serena
It was a frustratingly uneventful night. After Cyrus had left her to her own devices, she lay flat on the bed, trying to work through the seething anger she was feeling at her—at the man. It was impossible to think of him as her father, even though she knew in her gut that he was telling the truth about him being her biological parent. What did that mean, anyway? Nothing at all. He’d never been there for her—never cared for her, never taught her things, supported her, helped her grow. The only person who’d done that had been her mom. God, she’d give almost anything for the ability to talk to her mom again, if just for a few minutes.
”I wish you were here, mom,” she whispered to the ceiling, her eyes filling with tears. Her mom would know just what to say to make her feel better.
Why hadn’t her mom told her what a scumbag her dad was? They never talked much about him, but from what her mother had told her, it hadn’t been Cyrus’s fault that he’d left them. She’d managed to imply that it had to do with his pack not wanting a human around—that he’d left them under duress. But that was clearly a lie. Cyrus was the Alpha of the pack—he could have taken Sarah and his baby daughter with him if he’d wanted to. She supposed she should be grateful he hadn’t, given what kind of man he was. What kind of a person would she have turned into if she’d been under his influence her whole life? Still, she felt oddly betrayed that her mother had never told her the truth about him—only that he’d left them.
But wasn’t that the right thing to do? What would have been the point of her mom teaching her to hate her father? It would have just given her a bunch of unresolved anger issues. Her mom couldn’t have known that she’d meet him one day—that something as terrible as this would happen. And—she gritted her teeth—in the end, it didn’t actually matter that Cyrus was her father. He’d have done this to her regardless. He didn’t even care that she was his daughter. All he cared about was that he could use her to get at the water dragons.
Well, she wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Not without a fight. After an hour or so of being alone with her thoughts, the sky outside was dark, and she was feeling resolved. She sat up and flicked on a lamp by the bed, staring around at the room that had become her prison cell. First things first—she’d make sure she was definitely stuck in here. She worked her way around the walls, paying close attention to the window when she reached it. It was open a c
rack—maybe the width of her hand—to allow air to breeze through, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull the window open any further. And as Cyrus had demonstrated, the glass was impossible to break. It was more like hard plastic—she pounded her fist on it a few times, but quickly gave up. Escaping through the window wasn’t an option… but it felt good at least to be able to breathe in the outside air coming in.
The door was a no-go, too. The locks on the outside were clearly incredibly strong—she pushed against the door a few times, but it barely budged. The thought occurred to her that her wolf shape might be able to do something about the door. After all, the locks were strong, but the doorframe itself was just wood… she was pretty sure she could splinter it. But then what? It would make a terrible noise… and she knew from what Cyrus had said that she’d quickly be tracked down by his pack members who were hiding in the trees around the house, even if she managed to get out of the house. Still… perhaps she’d have a chance if there was some kind of distraction? But what would be distracting enough to get a pack of wolves out of the way? Maybe if Lachlan and his friends came to save her… but if that happened, she’d be fighting on their side, not running away. She knew that much for sure.
There was a small bathroom attached to the bedroom which she searched, too—no window there, though, and no hope of escape, but knowing that she had a bathroom at her disposal was a relief. At least, she didn’t have to do anything humiliating like use a bucket. It was also nice to be able to wash her face and hands in the sink—she’d gotten quite sweaty during all the panic earlier, and it made her feel better to be clean.
With the room thoroughly searched, she frowned, feeling at a loose end. What more could she do? She’d exhausted the possibilities for escape, studied the layout… she kicked idly at one of the polished wooden floorboards, then raised an eyebrow, thinking of an old movie she’d watched with her mother as a child in which the protagonist had kept his secret treasures hidden under a loose floorboard in the kitchen. Well, it was worth a shot. This was clearly a suburban home... was it possible this had been some teenager’s bedroom? A teenager who might have had a reason to keep some secret items under a floorboard?
She resisted the urge to yell in triumph as she checked a floorboard under the bed and found it loose. She lifted it up, finding a narrow space hollowed out beneath it… and sure enough, to her delight, there was something stashed in there. An ancient packet of cigarettes—she peered at it, wrinkling her nose at the stale smell of tobacco. Even if she’d been a smoker, she had a suspicion these weren’t good any more. But if there were cigarettes, that must mean… she plunged her hand into the space under the floorboard again and stifled another cry of triumph as she found a little box that rattled when she withdrew it. Matches. And these were much less worn out than the cigarettes. A plentiful stash, too—about twenty or thirty.
Could she burn the house down? That would certainly qualify as a distraction… the downside, of course, being that she risked burning herself to death in the process. Still, it was tempting to consider, just to see the look on Cyrus’s face. No, she shouldn’t set the room on fire… but her eyes were drawn back to the window, and she hurried over to see what was below it. Could she drop a lit match down and cause some trouble? Directly below the window was nothing but a paved area for entertaining… but a little beyond it were a promising set of dry-looking bushes. It hadn’t rained in a few weeks… could a match cause a bit of trouble? She could see that the bushes were close to the wall of the house. But how could she get a lit match to the bushes? Her hand went to her braid, and she grinned as she realized what she had at her disposal.
As a kid, bored during math class, she’d made a game of flicking balls of rolled-up paper at her friends using hair ties. She’d gotten quite accurate at it, too. She still couldn’t remember how to do long division, but the memories of terrorizing her friends came flooding back as she took a hair tie out of her hair and propped a match in it. Then she hesitated. Was now the best time to make her escape? It was dark out—she’d have no idea where she was going, even if she managed to get out of here. As much as she hated the thought of spending the night here, she knew that it would be best to wait until morning.
Grinding her teeth, she crossed to the bed and climbed into it, already impatient for the morning to come. The sheets were scratchy, and the mattress was hard… she thought of her bed back on the peninsula, missing it—and Lachlan, and Delilah—furiously.
”I’ll be home soon,” she whispered to herself, reaching over to switch off the lamp. “I promise.”
It wasn’t a good night of sleep, but at least it passed the time. She woke from a dream about running from Cyrus down the twisting corridors of this house she’d seen so briefly while he carried her up to her prison cell of a room—but the sun was streaming through the window, and the little clock on the bedside table told her it was just after nine. Nearly a whole day away from Delilah and Lachlan. She realized with a lump in her throat that she was thinking about the two of them almost like they were her own family. Was that crazy? Probably just the imprisonment talking, she thought, trying to put those thoughts aside.
She’d been terrified it would rain overnight, but it looked bright and clear as always out there. The drought wasn’t great for the local wildlife, but she was grateful for it, at least, for helping her escape attempt.
There was a low sound on the edge of her hearing, and she frowned, keeping still to see if she could make out what it was. Voices, she realized, listening closely. Lots of them—the kind of sound a reasonably big crowd made when they were spending time together. She lay flat on the floorboards, listening hard—it sounded like the crowd was downstairs. Some kind of pack meeting, perhaps? Her heart lurched—maybe they were waiting in the house for the water dragons to come. Cyrus must have sent the ransom demand by now. She hoped Lachlan wouldn’t be stupid enough to pay it. A guy like Cyrus couldn’t be trusted to uphold his end of a bargain like that.
How many wolves were down there? He’d said thirty were hidden in the trees—was this all of them? Maybe she could burn the house down with all of them inside it. The intensity of that thought surprised her—she wasn’t usually a violent person. Surely they didn’t all deserve to die… but somehow, she just couldn’t find any sympathy for them in her heart. She supposed being locked up would do that to a person. Well, there was no time like the present to start a fire. Taking a deep breath, she crossed to the window, pulling the hair tie out of her hair, and set about trying to flick a lit match into the bushes.
The first handful went out as soon as she flicked them, and she gritted her teeth, gripped by fear that her plan wouldn’t work. Her worry rose as her supply of matches dwindled, and she began to fret that she should have found a better use for them—but then, as she sent the second-last match flying, she realized with a lurch of joy that the little flame hadn’t gone out. It landed squarely at the base of the bushes, and she watched it, hardly daring to breathe in case that somehow interfered with the process… then she bit back on a whoop of joy as she saw a little tongue of flame creep up into the dry bushes.
Before too long, the whole bush was alight. She watched it burn, silently egging it on, praying for the wind to strike up and blow her little flame towards the house. And sure enough, the flames began to move. There was an open window with curtains blowing gently in the breeze downstairs, and she watched with bated breath as the spreading fire caught hold of one of the curtains.
By the time she heard voices raised in panic downstairs, the fire had well and truly taken hold. Grinning in triumph, she watched as a handful of men spilled out into the yard, expressions of panic on their faces as they looked at the rapidly spreading fire. She knew this was her best chance. Taking a deep breath, she reached inside herself for the magic she so rarely used, but always knew was there… and felt a rush of energy as the transformation rippled through her.
A glimpse of herself in the mirror—a huge, russet-red wolf wit
h bright silver eyes looked back at her, sharp teeth glinting in the light. God, she’d forgotten how strong this body felt—how keen the senses were. She could almost make out the individual conversations going on among the panicking wolves outside. But that wasn’t her concern. Right now, there was one obstacle between her and freedom—and it was the door. She turned her broad, muscular shoulder to it—and slammed her full weight against it.
To the lock’s credit, it didn’t give way. It was the doorframe that splintered first, knocking a huge hole into the wall and spilling her huge form into the corridor. There was no way they hadn’t heard that—all she could do was hope that the way was clear to get out. She bolted down the stairs, her paws awkward on the narrow staircase, and found herself in a hallway. The front door was closed—she could have shifted back to open it, but she was worried it was locked. She just wanted to run—and she could feel the open air blowing through the back door at the other end of the hallway. So she followed her instincts. With joy surging in her body, she bolted down the hallway, her powerful legs propelling her through the open back door, through the group of worried-looking men who were trying to figure out how to fight the fire, past the burning bush and into the forest beyond.
She had no idea where she was going, and behind her, she could hear the shouts of the pack as they transformed to give chase. But judging from the position of the sun, she was heading west. For the coast. For the peninsula. She’d find her way home. She’d have to.
But first, she’d have to outrun the pack of angry wolves on her tail.
Chapter 17 – Lachlan
”Lachlan. Wake up.”
Daniel was in his room, bouncing excitedly from foot to foot. Lachlan was no stranger to being woken in the middle of the night by excitable people—but they were usually his daughter. He rubbed his eyes blearily, sitting up in bed—then realized with a start it was morning already. He’d needed that sleep more than he thought he had.