12. Wyatt
TWELVE
WYATT
I’d waited a few minutes before going out to the veranda, watching.
Harper and her friend Savannah had the kind of friendship that I’d only seen in movies. They seemed to genuinely like each other, and I knew that Harper would do whatever she could to help her friends. It was one of the many traits that had made me fall in love with her. My experience with women before Harper hadn’t left me with a good taste in my mouth. Not literally, of course. But the women I’d dated were competitive, and would stab a friend in the back if it meant money or a man – worse, if it was a man with money.
It was like watching a rom-com outside, while there was a full-on horror movie playing out in the basement.
When Gloria had delivered the tray of food, I’d stepped out onto the veranda and interrupted the party, telling Harper that I needed to talk to her.
I held my hand out to help her up from her seat, but she crossed her arms and stared at me, defiance oozing from her posture. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of my friends.”
“I’d rather not.” We were going to have to have a conversation about secrets. Even though Connor was a werewolf, and his girlfriend was obviously okay with it, that didn’t mean I wanted to divulge all of our secrets to two outsiders, especially a human.
Women scorned were not to be messed with. What would happen if Connor and Savannah had a messy break-up? I trusted Harper, but I didn’t know her best friend. The last thing we needed was a scorned woman deciding to ruin her ex’s life, and in turn, take us all down with him.
My hand was suspended, palm up, but Harper didn’t take it. I cleared my throat and brushed my hands on my pants.
“I’ve already told them about my father.” Harper’s voice was flat. As shitty as I was at understanding human emotion, I knew ‘pissed-off girlfriend’ when I heard it.
I sighed and dropped into the chair next to Harper, resting my hand on her knee. “Look. We tried our best today, but we couldn’t find him. But we will. You have to trust me on this. I promise we’ll find him.”
“Based on Harper’s description, it sounds like we could be dealing with a hybrid.” Connor leaned his elbows on his knees and his eerie-as-fuck eyes tracked between me and Harper.
“We haven’t decided on that kind of terminology yet,” I said.
Savannah sniffed her wrist. It was the third time she’d done it since I sat down. “Connor said that there have been rumors about scientists, you know, messing around with genes,” she said, sniffing her wrist once more. Her perfume had a floral scent, with subtle notes of jasmine. Her behavior puzzled me.
“What rumors have you heard?”
Connor held up his hands. The wolves were secretive, like us, and from what I knew, not overly prone to speculation. “Just the same old stories that have been swirling around for years. Only they used to be about us. And now, it seems they’re about you.”
A chill ran up my spine. There had been rumors of experimentation on the werewolf community back in the 1950s stemming from Europe, but I’d never heard any fables about scientists working on our kind. “Is that all you know?”
“Basically.” Connor tilted his head. “I overheard Bannon talking with Stan, the VP of our motorcycle club, a few months ago. They were talking about possible experiments happening somewhere on the West Coast.”
The wolves had broken a decades-long treaty between us. A week ago, they’d come to take over Stirling County because of the missing hikers. They’d thought Atticus was a weak leader, but we’d come to an agreement, which is why I was back as leader and CEO. Against my better judgement, I trusted Connor, and hoped that Bannon was a man of his word.
“What would you guys do if that was happening?” I asked.
Harper’s hand slipped to mine and my body relaxed. I hated it when she was angry with me.
“We’d put a stop to it. With or without your permission.”
We were stronger with the wolves. Right now, there was peace between us, but with the volatility of the wolves’ leadership, namely Bannon, who knew how long it would last?
“Connor. I want to show you something,” I said.
“No.” Harper jumped to her feet. “You’re not keeping me and Savannah in the dark.” She pulled Savannah up from where she was sitting and a wave of jasmine wafted in the breeze. It wasn’t a bad smell, but it was wrong for the season. Autumn smelled like decomposing leaves and nutmeg, not lilacs and jasmine.
Connor’s lips turned up at the sides, and he covered his smile with his hand. He was enjoying this.
“Can your girlfriend keep her mouth shut?” I asked.
“I can.” Savannah stepped beside Connor and held onto the crook of his arm. “I promise.”
“Are you okay with this?” I asked Harper.
She shrugged. “I don’t know what we’re walking into down there, but I trust Savannah.”
Harper and I were going to have to have a tough conversation. If Savannah started blabbing all over town, we would waste no time wiping her memory, whether Harper liked it or not.
“Alright, then.” I grabbed a walnut from the charcuterie board, popped it in my mouth, and led the group inside the house.
Tank stood next to the basement staircase. As we approached, his eyes widened. He furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes at me, but I knew he wouldn’t question me in front of anyone, especially not a member of the Dakota wolves. “What’s up, Boss?”
“I want to show Connor what we found.”
His lips narrowed. I could tell he wasn’t happy, but he stepped aside.
“What’s that smell?” Savannah crinkled her nose as I opened the door to the theater.
The hiker had pissed himself, and was still wearing the clothes he’d been in when we’d snagged him in our trap. They were tattered and dirty, and it looked like he could’ve been wearing them for a week or two.
“Come on.” I reached for Harper’s hand.
Her tiny hand was clammy, but she squeezed mine. “I’m not afraid.”
“I know,” I whispered. I wanted to tell her that there was no reason to be afraid, but what we’d discovered was fucking terrifying.
Savannah clutched Connor’s arm. “Is there a dead body down here? I don’t think I can handle looking at a corpse.”
“Do I need a weapon?” Connor’s hand rested on the waistband of his jeans. Had the guard at the front door not checked for his gun? I didn’t have time to be furious about the lax security. It would have to be dealt with later. Right now, we had a much bigger problem on our hands.
“It’s safe. He’s restrained.”
Harper’s hand was holding onto mine like she’d fallen from a cliff, but when we rounded the corner and the scene came into view, it went limp. “It isn’t my dad.”
“I wouldn’t lie to you,” I whispered.
“I know. I just hoped…” She let out a heavy sigh. “Who is he?” she said, then looked up at me. “And why do you have a hiker chained up in your basement?”
Beside us, Connor’s lips curled. A deep growl rumbled from deep within his body. “He’s not human.”
Savannah’s hands were white as she held onto Connor. “If he’s not human, then what is he?”
Atticus leaned against the wall, sipping a beer. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. His words seem to come and go.”
Harper’s hand slipped from mine. “Just like my dad.”
“Harper,” I shouted, but she had already rushed to the side of the hiker. His head hung against his chest, but he looked up when Harper sat next to him. “Don’t get close.” I tried not to shout, but I didn’t want her anywhere near the man.
“He’s freezing.” She touched his forehead. “And he’s burning up.” She stormed past me and grabbed a blanket from the back of the sofa, draping it over his lap.
“Tank, ask Gloria for a first aid kit and some damp towels,” she shouted up the stairs.
“Boss?” Tank’s voice replied from the main floor.
“Just do it,” I grumbled.
“Wyatt, how could you?” Harper poured a glass of water from the bar and handed it to the hiker.
The man slapped the water from Harper’s hand. His eyes flashed and he snarled as he bared his teeth at her.
Harper squeaked and jumped backwards. I pulled her toward me and wrapped my arm over her shoulder protectively.
“We’ll take care of him,” I promised. “He has answers, he just doesn’t have the words. And we need to figure out who, or what he is, and what he knows.”
“S-s-sorry.” The man’s voice was hoarse. “Water.”
Everyone new to the room turned to stare at the man, mouths agape, like he’d starting spouting a foreign language.
“He needs water,” I confirmed. Harper moved, but I squeezed her body close to mine. “Atticus. Get another glass of water. It looks like we might get some answers after all.”