Chapter Nine
KARL
Karl breakfasted late, after debriefing the night patrol and briefing the day shift. He’d seen Ava and Joaquim heading out to patrol the area Leon had identified in the notes he’d sent Karl, but he didn’t know where Leon was.
It was like an itch at the base of his spine, one he couldn’t quite reach, knowing that damn cat was around but not knowing where he was or what he was up to.
He was just about to take his first mouthful of bacon and pancakes when the back door banged open, and Dave skidded in.
Karl tensed. Dave didn’t rush over anything. All part of his natural balance and being one with nature or whatever his nude yoga was supposed to do for him.
“Someone’s been up on Lookout Point.” Dave was breathing hard. “Not there now, but there’s food wrappers and a pile of cigarette ends. Like they’ve been watching us.”
Karl was on his feet. “Any scent?”
“Faint,” Dave said. “Too weak for them to have been there last night, I think. I could have followed it, but I thought I should let you and Matt know.”
“Yeah, good.” Karl was already halfway down the hallway to Matt’s den, tiredness and breakfast both forgotten. Dave was on his heels as he pushed the door open. “We’ve got a problem, boss. I need to go check it out.”
Along with Matt and Bryce, the cats were in there.
It said something about how used he’d become to their scent that he hadn’t even registered it until he saw them.
Luna was leaning over the desk, and Leon was draped languidly against a chair like the smug bastard he was.
His gaze flicked to Karl, sharp and questioning.
Karl ignored him as Dave explained what he’d found.
“I need to get up there,” Karl said, the instant Dave finished speaking. “I need to find them.”
Matt was already nodding. “Take someone with you.”
Karl was rapidly turning over in his mind who he should take.
Bryce would be needed for the talks, now they were down to detailed planning.
Colby, Tom, and Christian were the other most competent pack members when it came to either defense or offense, and that was exactly why they should stay here.
What Dave had found might be a feint to draw some of the pack out and reduce the guard on their territory, making it easier to get to Jesse.
As he thought about it, he knew his answer.
“You can’t spare anyone, especially not with Luna here,” he said. “You know I don’t need help.”
“I’ll go,” Leon said.
Karl spun on his heel and glared, but Luna was already speaking. “If this concerns us, we need to know. Leon’s the best tracker I’ve got. Let him help.”
Karl’s gaze fixed on Matt’s face, willing him to say no. The last thing he wanted was some smug house cat with good hair and no wilderness experience fumbling the trail before getting himself eaten by a bear.
“The two of you, then.”
Karl swore silently.
“Colby’s my second,” he said stiffly. “Let him coordinate defense. Tom’ll back him up.”
“Understood,” Matt said, already shifting his focus back to the map on the desk.
“Are you going to talk all day, or are we hunting?” Leon was next to the door, somehow having gotten there without Karl noticing.
Karl didn’t answer as he strode out after him. Perfect. Stuck alone with the cat who’d gotten under his skin from the second he’d stepped foot on Karl’s territory.
Hell of a way to start a morning.
LEON
Leon had been ready to leave five minutes ago. One look from Luna was all it would’ve taken. But instead, the wolves had to talk. And talk. And talk.
Fucking wolves. Everything had to be a performance.
At least Karl hadn’t wasted time once they were outside. They’d stripped, shifted, and Leon had barely a second to look at the wolf before he was moving. Big and dark, he was built like something out of a primal fairy tale.
Now they were running, and that was the next problem.
Wolves were slow. Well, slower than jaguars.
Leon adjusted his pace and caught the flicker of Karl’s glance.
Yeah, okay, he’d stick with the wolf for now.
Only because he didn’t know where they were going.
But once they hit a scent trail, all bets were off.
As they ate up the miles, he realized that wolves might be slow, but they were built for endurance.
Karl ran like it was nothing, a relentless, ground-eating lope.
It wasn’t a problem for Leon—no wolf could beat him at anything—but he didn’t usually run like this in cat form.
He stalked then struck, exploding into a burst of speed that no wolf could ever match.
The difference between being built to hunt solo rather than in a pack.
Karl led them up a steep hillside and finally drew to a halt. Leon looked around and cursed when he saw the view. The ranch house looked tiny, but there was a clear line of sight.
He sniffed where the grass was flattened, already picking up layers of scent, when something big and heavy blocked him. Karl, using his powerful wolf body to shove him away.
Leon shifted immediately. “What the fuck? You think I’m going to trample the scene? I’m not a damn wolf, nosing into everything without thinking.”
Karl didn’t react to the fury in his voice. He simply shifted before crouching to sift through the evidence.
“You forget I don’t know you,” he said calmly. “You could be Sherlock and Batman rolled into one, but until I see proof of that, I’m not risking a blown trail.”
Leon bristled, not just at the implication he might spoil the scent but because he realized he’d have done the same damn thing if the positions were reversed. If this had been a scene back home, there was no way he’d let some overgrown mutt stomp through it uninvited.
Still, it grated that Karl didn’t respect him.
No one got to be responsible for the queen’s safety lightly.
It had taken him years of work and training to get to the point where he was recognized as being good enough to have that responsibility.
Karl probably thought his position was due to him and Luna being related, because wolves were that dim.
He watched Karl study the area of crushed grass.
“There were two of them,” Karl said. “Both non-shifters. Judging by the weight distribution, one’s heavier, the other may be taller. This”—he pointed to small depressions in the soil—“could’ve been a tripod.”
Leon scanned the house in the distance. “You could see everything from here. Movement patterns. Timings.”
Karl nodded. “Exactly.”
Leon frowned, lining up the sightline with his thumb, squinting a little. “I don’t know... Maybe with a custom rifle? It’d be a Hail Mary shot.”
“It’d be a fantasy,” Karl said flatly. “That distance, you’d need spotters near the target.
There’s no way anyone’s gotten that far inside our perimeter without us picking them up.
And even if they somehow did, you’d need a shooter who both kills for money and can do trig in their sleep.
Wind, weight, Coriolis effect. It’s not just pulling the trigger. ”
Leon raised an eyebrow. “Okay, Wolf Wikipedia.”
Karl shrugged. “I served. Did some long-range work. No one’s touching us from here when they could just wait for Luna or Jesse to leave.
Hell, they could sit at the bottom of the driveway waiting and be sure of their target.
Short of a missile launcher—which’d be a hell of a statement—this is recon, not a firing position. ”
For half a second, their eyes met. And in that flicker of connection—past the distrust, past the barbs—Leon saw the shared weight. They both knew what it meant to prepare for the worst. To expect it.
“You good for a long hunt?” Karl asked as he stood.
Leon rolled his eyes. “No, I came out here for the ambience.”
“Just asking,” Karl said. “I don’t know how cats work. Wolves go till the job’s done.”
Leon didn’t answer. He shifted, body rippling into sleek black fur, and launched down the hillside, following the scent trail. He’d show that damn wolf.