Pack Obsession (Love Knot War #3)

Chapter 19

Chapter

Nineteen

NASH

T he front door stands wide open when we pull up, swinging lazily in the morning breeze like a broken jaw. We’re hours later than planned after the clusterfuck in the city—having to ditch Julian’s tail through back alleys and construction zones before we could even think about moving Casey’s brother.

At least that part went smoother than expected. The moment we mentioned Julian’s name, something changed in his eyes, and kept asking if Casey was okay. He didn’t even argue; just threw some clothes in a bag and followed us out. Like he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Now, he’s tucked away at one of our safe houses with someone I trust, someone who knows how to stay ghost when needed.

But those precious hours of delay of dodging Julian’s men around and the construction blocking roads sit heavily on me. My stomach drops as I kill the engine. Beside me, Logan’s gone rigid. We’re too late. Fuck, we’re too late.

“Son of a bitch.” His voice comes out deadly quiet. He’s out of the car before I can respond, darting inside.

I rush close behind as we clear the doorway. The cabin’s dead silent except for our ragged breathing and?—

“Casey!” His call booms through the house, bouncing off wooden walls. No response except the quiet hum of the AC. The hair on the back of my neck stands up—wrong, everything’s wrong.

We take the stairs three at a time, muscle memory taking over as we clear rooms. The bathroom door stands open. The tub’s half-full, the water lukewarm when I test it, and it’s all over the floor too. Her honey-peach scent lingers here. She was here not long ago.

“Fuck!” Logan’s roars to a level that would make most Alphas submit on the spot. His fist connects with the doorframe, and the solid oak splinters like kindling. “I should have thrown that piece of shit, Julian through a window when I had the chance. Better yet, off the fucking roof.” Another punch, more splinters. “This is on me. I knew he was obsessed with her, knew what he was capable of. FUCK!”

“Hey.” I grab his shoulder, forcing him to look at me. His steel-gray eyes have gone almost black with rage, pupils blown wide with adrenaline. “Listen to me. We need clear heads right now. Casey doesn’t need us throwing furniture around—she needs us thinking.”

He draws a shuddering breath, and I watch him wrestle his inner demons back under control.

“Where’s Axel?” he asks.

The question hits me like a bucket of ice water.

“Shit.” My heart rate kicks up another notch as I spin toward the window.

Logan’s already moving, darting in and out of the rooms upstairs. “If they hurt either of them?—”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” I cut him off. “But first, we find them.”

I dive in and join the search, checking every damn room in the house, then we pound out the back door into the cool midday air. Mist still clings to the ground in patches, but there’s something else—the metallic tang of blood mixing with wet earth. I follow my nose, moving fast but carefully.

“Here!” The word tears from my throat as I spot a crumpled form near the tree line. Axel’s sprawled facedown in a puddle of dried leaves, one arm twisted beneath him. His black hair’s matted with morning dew, and a knife glints with blood nearby.

I drop to my knees beside him, checking his vitals even as I catalogue his injuries.

“He’s alive, thank fuck! And he’s not cut, so the blood is someone else’s. His pulse is strong but slow, as if he’s in a deep sleep. Breathing steady. No major wounds except some bruising.” I turn him onto his side to search his back. “And no fatal injuries I can see.”

Logan crouches beside me, and pulls out Axel’s hand tucked under his back, then pries open his fingers to find a small dart.

“Smart,” Logan groans. “Leaving us a clue as to what was used to poison him.” He sniffs it carefully and his expression darkens in a way I’ve only seen a few times. Never ends well for whoever caused it. “MS-47. Military-grade tranquilizer, fast-acting, long-lasting. We used it sometimes for... extracting high-value targets.”

“They knew what they were doing,” I say, examining a bruise forming on Axel’s jaw. “Can you wake him?”

“Maybe.” Logan’s already moving. “Got something that might work. Help me get him inside first.”

I slide my arms under Axel’s massive frame, Logan has his feet, and I grunt as I lift. For a guy who practically lives in the gym, he’s somehow even heavier than he looks.

“Jesus Christ, he’s a heavy bastard. All that protein finally catching up to him, huh?” His head lolls against my shoulder as we carry him toward the house. “If you were awake, you’d never let me live this down.”

“At least he’s not drooling on you,” Logan observes dryly as we stumble inside. “Yet.”

We lay him on the couch, and Logan disappears upstairs, returning moments later with a small case I’ve never seen before. The metal box looks military issue, complete with warning labels I pretend not to be able to read. He pulls out a preloaded injector that definitely isn’t available through normal medical channels.

“Military counteragent,” he explains, rolling up Axel’s sleeve roughly. “Not exactly approved for civilian use, but neither was the shit they used on him.” The injector hisses as he slams it into Axel’s bicep. “Used to keep these on hand for... complications in the field.”

"It has to be Julian." I slide into the chair at my workstation, fingers flying across keys. "Someone knew exactly what they were doing—they killed the security alarms, but..." A grim smile crosses my face as multiple screens light up. "They missed the cameras. I keep them on a separate encrypted network, ghost-mode protocols. Most hackers wouldn't even know to look for it."

"Show me," Logan demands, leaving Axel's side to lean over my shoulder.

"Pulling it up now." I access the security feed, rewinding through the morning hours. "There—9:43 AM."

The footage makes my blood boil. Casey racing down the stairs, panic clear on her face. She falls over and they grab her. Two men in tactical gear, faces hard to see from the angle, but they’re dragging her backwards by her ankles as she kicks and fights. My insides boil, hands curled into fits. Those bastards.

"Motherfuckers," Logan snarls as we watch them haul her outside. The exterior camera catches them tossing her into a black van. No plates, no identifying marks. His fist slams down toward my desk and I barely snatch my laptop out of the way.

"Watch the hardware, you animal. Can't find her with a broken computer."

"We need to—" Logan cuts off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "That van could be anywhere by now."

"Maybe." I pull up another program, fingers dancing across the keys. "But I've got something better than traffic cameras." Multiple windows pop up as I access my tracking system. A map grid of the city materializes, glowing blue in the dim room.

"Remember that shopping trip last week? All those clothes we bought Casey?" I hit the activation sequence, watching data streams flow. "I may have added some insurance. Tiny trackers, waterproof, sewn into the hems and collars. Set and forget until we need them."

Logan stares at me for a long moment before breaking into a fierce grin that transforms his whole face. “You brilliant, paranoid bastard.” He actually hugs me, which is so out of character, I almost laugh despite everything. “Got her location?”

I zoom in on the signal, cross-referencing with city planning maps. “Edge of the city. Looks like an abandoned neighborhood near the old high school. Two, maybe three hours, depending on traffic.” I glance up with what I hope is an innocent expression. “So... wrong time to mention I put trackers in all your clothes, too?”

Logan’s eyebrows shoot up. “All of them?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was for your own good?”

“I’d believe you’re exactly the kind of methodical bastard I want on my team.” He shakes his head, but there’s something like respect in his eyes. Maybe even pride. “We need to move. Now.”

“What about our sleeping giant?”

We both look at Axel, who’s starting to show signs of life—twitching fingers and rapid eye movement. A string of mumbled curses in what might be Ukrainian.

“The antidote’s working, but it’ll take time for his system to fully clear,” Logan says, checking his pupils. “We can’t leave him here, though. He’ll either follow us half-conscious or tear the place apart trying.”

“Back seat it is.” I headed to the basement to gather weapons, Logan on my heels. He pulls out a duffel and begins filling it. “Those are new... actual grenades?”

He doesn’t even look embarrassed. “Never know when you might need some extra persuasion.”

That makes me pause in the middle of assessing a clip.

Ice slides down my spine as I think of Casey in Julian’s hands.

We load Axel into the back of Logan’s SUV like he’s a very large, occasionally mumbling sack of potatoes. His eyes flutter open briefly, unfocused but filled with rage, even through the drugs.

“C’sey?”

“We’re going to get her,” I tell him, buckling him in. “Just try not to puke in Logan’s car.”

“F’ck the car,” Axel slurs, trying to sit up and failing. “Kill’m all.”

“That’s the spirit.” I pat his shoulder. “Just sleep it off first.”

The weapons get stowed under the seats and in hidden compartments—Logan’s vehicle is more heavily modified than mine. As we peel out onto the road, I drive up the heat in the car for Axel as tranquillizers can lower the body temperature, then pull up the tracking program on my tablet, watching Casey’s signal. Still steady. Still in the same location.

“Stay still,” I mutter. “We’re coming.”

Logan’s hands are tight on the steering wheel, a muscle in his jaw jumping. I know he’s blaming himself, thinking of all the ways we could have prevented this.

“Stop it,” I tell him quietly.

“Stop what?”

“The guilt spiral. I can smell it on you. This isn’t on you.”

He barks out a harsh laugh. “Should have known he’d try something like this.”

“We’ll deal with the fallout later.” I check the map again. “Right now, we have a rescue to plan. And if that sadistic fuck has hurt her...”

“We’ll kill him,” comes a gravelly voice from the back seat. We both glance back to see Axel struggling to sit up, his ice-blue eyes finally focusing. “Slowly.”

Well. Looks like those weapons will come in handy after all.