Chapter 17
AFTER CHECKING for any viruses, Sean had decoded the encrypted files on the flash drive Hannah received. The preview she’d gotten hadn’t been secure. The deep files? Oh yeah. It would take a master like Sean to crack those files. And he had. Then they’d cross-checked names, addresses, and all of the information they’d discovered with trusted sources they could still reach out to. Now the Wolves, in animal form, stood on the military crest—just below the top so they wouldn’t be silhouetted—of the hill. They’d hunted tonight as wolves, following scents, marking territory, flitting in and out of shadows as they scouted the estate spread across the gently rolling hills below them. The mansion—a modern monstrosity of concrete, angles, and glass—was a place familiar to Mac. He’d watched a nurse who worked at the Black Root labs in Nevada escorted into this house. Back then, they didn’t know anything about John Smith or the corporation he ran. They’d searched as well as they could as wolves. It was time to plan the assault like men.
Six furry bodies shuddered, twisting and turning as bones changed shape, as fur transformed into skin. Wolf converted to man, each one of them standing erect on two legs instead of four paws. They ignored their nudity, reaching into surrounding bushes to retrieve their packs. A few minutes later, they regrouped, dressed in dark woodland camouflage fatigues and armed themselves not with teeth and claws, but guns.
Mac pulled his cell phone from a pocket to check for missed calls or messages. He tuned out the whispered conversation behind him before quietly breaking in after reading a text. “Harjo just confirmed our suspicions. Hannah’s source turned up as a John Doe. Baltimore PD is investigating his murder, but as far as they’re concerned, he’s just some homeless guy. They won’t push too hard.”
Lightfoot studied the house through his sniper scope. “No way for Hannah to leak his real ID. They’d trace it back to her one way or another.”
“Yeah, Harjo says the same thing. TOD was within an hour of his meeting with her.” Mac’s emotions were on a tight leash. The thought that Hannah might have been caught in the crossfire, or worse—that she might have been the target left him tied up in knots. He shoved the phone back into a cargo pocket and only then realized Nate hadn’t shifted back.
The huge brindle wolf, hackles stiff, stared at the house. The rest of the Wolves, now in human form, exchanged glances. Rudy and Antoine stepped back. They each understood the comfort to be found in being a wolf. Life was black and white to the wolf. As was death. Rudy shoved his hands in his pockets and debated whether to say anything. When Mac’s gaze landed on him, he spoke up.
“Do you want me to talk to him?”
Mac shook his head. “No. But we may need to contain him until we can get him home to Jacey.”
At his mate’s name, Nate’s black-rimmed ears twitched and swiveled toward Mac. He chuffed softly and shook his body. Mac slowly approached and sank to his haunches, sitting back on his heels. “Nate, you need to come back now.”
The wolf shook his head, breaking his gaze to refocus on the house. He wanted to get to the men who sheltered below. He wanted to hunt John Smith, stalking him through the woods, tasting the man’s fear as he fled. He wanted to savor Smith’s blood, wanted to feel the hot rush of it splashing down his throat as he tore their enemy to shreds. Vengeance burned in his chest so hot that it consumed the wolf. It would cripple the man.
Nate. Mac’s voice whispered in his mind. Nate dropped his head and pawed at his ear. You will come back. You can’t fight me. He whined softly.
Mac felt nauseous. He had never once used his power as Alpha to control any of these men. He didn’t want to use it now, but Nate was leaving him very little choice. He instinctively knew he’d lose Nate if he did. The wolf would never trust him again and the man would turn against him, turn against his brothers. At the same time, he didn’t want to transport the wolf back to Smith Mountain so Jacey could deal with him.
“Come back to us, Nate. We need you.” Mac dropped his voice to a whisper, but the power of it prickled the skin of every man there. “Please.”
It was the please that touched Nate. He knew Mac could force his change, remembering the first time he’d met the Alpha back in Oklahoma, back when he was more wolf than man, back when his only reason to change was a blue-eyed blond who loved him unconditionally. He shifted, his change lightning fast—a fact that still blew away the rest of the Wolves. He could change faster than even Mac—amazing considering he wasn’t a born wolf and had no one to teach him. Rudy tossed a bundle of clothes at him and he dressed in silence. Part of him wanted to apologize, but as he gazed at the hard men standing with him, he realized no apology was needed. In that moment, he vowed to himself that these men would return to their mates, their families, the pack. He would ensure that John Smith paid for his sins, come hell or high water. He would kill John Smith or die trying.
After he’d dressed, Mac stepped to his side. Silently, they watched the house where their enemy waited. “I know what you’re thinking, Nate.”
Nate lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. He’d already made up his mind.
“There’s no victory in dying.”
He stared at Mac, red glints clearly visible in his eyes. He’d gone all but feral and hadn’t totally returned to human even though he was no longer in wolf form. Despite that, Mac wasn’t worried. Nate was a Marine. Had been an officer. Had shed blood-red tears over the men under his command.
Nate’s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he fought for control of his wolf. “I know that, Mac,” Nate gritted out. “Victory comes only by the death of evil.”
“Exactly.” Mac’s gaze remained steady on the other man. “And there is no shame in passing that duty to another willing to shoulder the burden.”
Shaking his head, Nate held Mac’s gaze. “This is my burden. I—” He swallowed even as his shoulders straightened. “There’s no way you can understand, Mac.”
“You’re wrong, Nate. You’re one of us. One of mine. I do understand. I’ve buried two brothers. I won’t bury another. I won’t bury you.”
A muscle ticked under Nate’s right eye, the first crack in the stony facade the man had worn since their raid on the labs at Area 51. His eyes closed, his breathing so shallow he could have been holding it. Mac fought the urge to wrap Nate up in a bear hug and wished that Jacey was there. She seemed to be the only one who could reach him when the demons ranged too close to the surface of Nate’s psyche.
Mac glanced over at the rest of the Wolves waiting nearby with the patience born from a life of combat. Warriors. Each and every one of them. Nate was their brother and they hurt for him. They would shoulder his pain and carry him the miles it took to ease the agony in his soul.
“We’re a pack, Nate. Family in every true sense of that word. We bleed together. Die together. And we live together. That’s the part you need to remember. The living. Think of Jacey. Of Joy and Grace. Those little girls are as much a part of you as if they carried your DNA. They love you.”
Nate gulped a deep, shuddering breath and his whole body tensed. “How? How can they love me? I’m a monster.” He held out his hands, staring at them as if seeing them for the first time. “Blood. So much blood, Mac. Innocents. Other monsters. How do I scrub it away so I can touch them?”
The others stepped closer, not enough to hem Nate in, to make him feel cornered, but enough to let him know they were there, that they had his six.
Lightfoot stared off into the distance. “When Tala died, and I saw Nakai die a little bit with her, I knew this was bigger. I knew it was just a matter of time before this blackness touched everyone I cared about. Liz. Micah. Mac. Hannah. Liam. It wants each and every one of us and those we love. It wants to suck us all in and spit us out. No more. No more running. No more hiding.” He swiveled his head so his gaze touched each one of the others. “Nate is right. It stops here or we die in the attempt.”
“We’ve made our mates and our pups as safe as they can be until we come back,” Sean added. “Lightfoot and Nate are right. But we don’t do this alone. We aren’t lone Wolves.” He moved closer, until he was standing right beside Nate, though he didn’t touch him. “Mac is right. We are pack, Nate. That means family, but it also means more.”
Mac reached out to lay his hand on Nate’s shoulder. The man’s muscles felt like granite beneath Mac’s palm. “Next to creating a life, the finest thing a man can do is save one, Nate. How many lives have you saved? Ours, certainly. Numerous times. Jacey’s. Our mates. The pups. Don’t let the dark win, Nathaniel Connor. Don’t sacrifice yourself in vain. Because, I’m here to tell you, we won’t let you walk that path alone. We will save you, because that’s what pack does.”
No one moved. No one spoke. The silence was finally broken by the distant wail of a siren, a ghost of sound stealing in on a whisper of wind. Seven men stood as still as statues, listening to the night. Nate finally turned his head to gaze at Mac. Feral red glinted in the back of his eyes, which flashed to wolfish gold before returning to human. Mac studied Nate, remaining calm with no demand in his expression. This was not the time for an alpha challenge.
“It ends here.” The words came out of Nate’s mouth sounding like the growl of an angry wolf.
“Yes.” Nate hadn’t asked a question, but Mac answered him anyway.
“Yes.” Lightfoot agreed.
“Yes.” Sean and Rudy answered almost as one.
“Always yes,” Antoine added.
Mac, as Alpha of the 69th, gave the order. “It’s time to hunt.”