Chapter 12 - Ryder
Ryder stepped inside the locked office served as the safe house’s command hub. In the back wall, a small rectangular window was secured shut with iron bars for extra security. Around him, on tables and cabinets, various surveillance equipment was installed to provide advanced monitoring capabilities for the remote location, and a communications station had been arranged in the far corner, complete with a shortwave radio. Right now, none of it was properly attuned or connected. They really needed to maintain these pieces of junk better. He made a note to tell Zach to someone out here to service the place more frequently after this was all over.
He had done some tinkering with it last night and had definitely made progress. However, contacting headquarters would need further tweaking to get the right signals and encrypted frequencies. A few additional technical adjustments would be needed, then it should hopefully be fully operational. Probably a few hours' worth of work left, at least. Still, it seemed like Elena had calmed down enough to accept the current state of affairs, and he didn't need to worry about her running off and getting into trouble, so there was time for that. Her visions were troubling, of course, but nothing that fundamentally changed the present situation. Priority number one was getting in touch with Zach to coordinate a plan.
He spent the next few hours working on configuring the electronics. It wasn't his specialty, and it took a significant degree of effort, but eventually, he got everything hooked up correctly. When he dialed the secure line to headquarters, the connection popped online within seconds. With a deep breath, he sat down on the stool beside the monitor and steeled himself, preparing for whatever his commander was going to say. Knowing Zach, he was going to hear a stern talking-to for acting rashly. Nothing he hadn't heard hundreds of times before.
“Hey boss, you've reached your local one-wolf black ops crew,” he said when the line finally patched through, grinning despite his current circumstances. “How can we help you today?”
Over the fuzzy static crackling through the speaker, a low sigh sounded. “Ryder,” the familiar voice replied, sounding both annoyed and relieved, “good to know you're alive. Why haven't I heard from you since yesterday? What happened? And where is Elena?”
His grin faded. “Uh, she's with me,” he responded, a little concerned that his friend apparently knew that the witch was involved in his sudden disappearance. As far as he was aware, there hadn't been anyone else around during his altercation with the rogue that led to him spiriting her away from the city.
“Good. My mate has been panicking all night,” Zach answered, his tone betraying his own tension. “After Elena's phone went dead, she thought the worst. You guys had me worried.”
Shit. Elena had been on the phone with Hayley. What had she told her? Did Hayley know about their unfortunate one-night stand? Did Zach? That would be a disaster, especially if either of them went and told Tolliver. The social repercussions of that drunken mistake probably shouldn't be his first concern right now, but man. If the rogues didn't get to him first, Elena's brother would flay him alive for that. Worse yet, they would give him endless, merciless grief about it for years afterward. Just picturing all the ways this situation could ruin his friendships for all eternity gave him chills.
Quickly, he scrambled to make a strategic correction. Better to assume they knew nothing and carry on with business as usual than to reveal something that, God willing, they didn't already know.
“We were attacked by a rogue near my apartment,” he hastily explained, glossing over details. “Had to flee before we came under fire. I'm afraid my suspicions were right. These are the same shifters I was tracking before. They must have followed me somehow. I've taken Elena to the northern safe house, and I'm taking preventive measures to keep us both safe. For now, there's no trace of them, but—”
“But what?” his commanding officer asked sharply. “I need all relevant information here, Ryder. Not the time to play games.”
Ryder sighed. “It appears that the pack is targeting me,” he admitted, feeling a tightening in his chest as he spoke, “Elena had a vision last night. From what she says, there's a certain enormous black wolf leading the group who's determined to get his paws on me. I have no way of knowing that it's him, but, well, considering everything that happened..”
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Zach already knew the story. Both men fell silent for a long moment, solemnly recalling those events and what it would mean if the creature Elena had dreamed about really was Asher Hayes.
“There's been no sign of him,” Zach murmured darkly after a moment. “None of our teams have detected anything. I know better than to question a witch's psychic gifts, though. We'll have to ramp up security everywhere and send an emergency alert. Get everyone who's out on missions back home until we know what we're dealing with.” Another brief pause. “You said you were attacked in town? That's disconcerting.”
Up until now, the recent rogue attacks had happened on the outskirts of their territory. There hadn't been an incident within the town limits before now. Bellefleur itself was considered safe ground. It had been effectively cleared of all major threats, and they kept a close lookout to make sure it stayed that way. For rogues to slip by the defenses and into the very heart of their town was alarming. Ryder grimaced at the thought, scowling down at the linoleum floor and scratched at the scruff lining his chin. This was all his fault. His recklessness had brought a threat into their peaceful sanctuary, and now, the entire pack could end up paying the price for it. Damn it.
“Right outside my apartment,” he confirmed, swallowing hard against the bile rising in his throat. “The attacker got away. Badly wounded but still alive. I had to focus on getting Elena to safety. Even if that beast survives, I'm guessing he went crawling back to his leader, and they've got even bigger beef with me than before. Sorry, man. I screwed up. I'm doing my best to fix it. Asher doesn’t know about this safe house, so it’s the safest place to be right now.”
“You’re right. We’ll have to focus on ramping up security around town to keep people safe. You take whatever precautions are required, and stay put,” Zach replied thoughtfully. He went silent for a moment, leaving no sound but buzzing static. Eventually, he added, “If this is Asher, he's got as much of an issue with the rest of the pack as he does with you. This is our problem, not just yours. We'll handle it together.” He paused again, letting those words sink in.
Ryder didn’t respond right away. His old friend meant well, but the words didn’t ring true. They hadn’t gotten Iris killed—he had. It didn’t feel right that the rest of the pack should have to deal with the fallout. For now, though, he saw little point in arguing. His mind was a mess of fear, frustration, and whatever bizarre enchantment he fell under in Elena’s presence. He needed to get his head screwed back on straight and figure out how to solve this without getting anyone else hurt.
Is there anything else you can tell me?” Zach asked after a while, breaking Ryder out of his grim thoughts.
Ryder thought it over, running his mind back to the scene in the alleyway. His mind had been completely consumed by his instincts at the time, and he hadn't been paying attention to the details as much as he should have. Nevertheless, he rattled off anything that seemed of note—the tattoo, the style of combat, the general size of the attacking shifter, any other minute clues he could remember. Zach listened carefully, and Ryder could hear the frantic scribbling of notes and a pen in the background. They discussed the case and then reviewed protocols and procedures for engaging with aggressive rogues.
Once the two men were on the same page regarding all issues of urgency, they fell silent, both mulling over what their next moves would be. Ryder waited patiently, tapping his fingers absently on the counter, while the sound of rustling papers came through the receiver on the other end. Several minutes passed. After a while, Zach sighed heavily. Ryder froze in anticipation, eyebrows furrowing at the hint of ominous finality in that long exhale.
“All right. Stay where you are for now. Keep yourself and Elena safe. We'll amp up security and send more scouts out to sweep the area. If these guys want to hunt us, then we'll find them,” his friend finally said. “Don't do anything reckless. This isn't your battle to fight alone anymore. No lone wolf bullshit this time. Got it?”
“Got it,” Ryder retorted drily, chuckling at the stern tone. “”
“We’ll start preparing the pack for a confrontation. When you learn anything, let me know immediately,” Zach ordered.
“Of course,” Ryder replied with a curt nod. “Don’t worry about us, all right? I’ve got this under control. We’re safe and hidden. Focus on getting our pack ready and protecting civilians. If anything changes, I’ll contact you.”
“If we go seventy-two hours without contact, I’m sending a patrol,” Zach said. “I’m serious, Ryder. No nonsense this time. I trust you to know what you’re doing, but this requires caution.”
“Copy that, boss,” Ryder sighed. “Give my best to the family. I'll stay in touch.”
There was no response, just more crackling static on the line, and then it cut to silence. He pulled the headphones off and placed them back on the shelf above the keyboard and microphone, then got to his feet and stretched his stiff muscles. The whole conversation hadn't taken long, maybe an hour tops, but it had been enough time for his body to grow sore from sitting awkwardly on the cramped stool. He headed for the door, rolling his shoulders back, and stepped out into the hallway.
Back in the main room, he was surprised to find Elena kneeling by a bucket of soapy water, scrubbing down the floor with fierce determination. The coffee table was upturned and shoved against the wall, the couch pushed back to create more space in the center, and all manner of cleaning supplies cluttered the remaining space on the rug. He had picked up the scent of fresh lemons and bleach from the other room but hadn't expected such domestic goddessery from the woman currently glaring down at a particularly stubborn dirt stain that refused to budge as if it had personally insulted her. He arched a bemused eyebrow at her and tilted his head sideways.
“What are you doing?” he asked, befuddled.
Elena glanced up with a start at his sudden arrival, seemingly unaware of his presence. She blinked once, then gestured vaguely around the room and shrugged. “What do you think?” she remarked with a bemused smile. “This place is miserable. If I'm going to be stuck here, I'd rather live somewhere not covered in grime and filth. Honestly, do you guys ever clean here? It's disgusting!”
Ryder wrinkled his nose distastefully at that. She wasn't wrong. The cabin was indeed quite filthy, covered in dust and various stains. When they went out here to train, they rarely bothered to clean up, just tossed their grimy clothes and equipment in a box and left it there. They were typically here for less than twenty-four hours at a time, and generally limited to sleeping and showering. Cleaning hadn't been at the top of anyone’s to-do list.
“Huh,” he mused aloud, taking in the sight before him with a smirk. “Well, if you're looking for a career change, we could use a maid here. You could finally make yourself useful.”
She shot him a murderous stare from under her thick lashes and threw the wet sponge directly at his head. He ducked out of the way in time for it to land harmlessly behind him, splattering sudsy droplets over the wall and floor. Glancing back at her, he let out a loud guffaw. A glint of mischief flashed in her green eyes as she sat there and narrowed them dangerously at him. Without warning, she splashed a large amount of water right onto him with one quick motion of her arm, causing him to yelp and jump out of reach as she burst out laughing. He darted over to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle, pointing it at her like a firearm and arching an inquisitive eyebrow challengingly.
A playful grin spread across her face as she tilted her chin slightly upward in response. Carefully watching her, he slowly twisted the cap off and held his thumb loosely over the opening. Elena picked up a spray bottle containing a citrus-scented cleaner solution and nodded in his direction, still grinning mischievously. Suddenly, he dashed forward, dousing her with cold water relentlessly until the container ran out, and she shrieked, responding by squirting the liquid in her bottle aimlessly, coating his clothes in lemon air freshener.
The battle raged on. They raced back and forth, hurling missiles of sponges and washcloths at each other, both laughing uncontrollably until tears formed in the corners of their eyes. By the time they ran out of ammunition and paused to catch their breaths, they were both dripping wet, completely soaked to the skin in suds. They sat on the floor and glanced around at the battlefield as their breathing gradually slowed. Their surroundings were an even bigger mess than before, streaked with soap bubbles and splattered with fluid. Puddles lay on the hardwood floors and all across the rug. It was chaos. And yet, for a moment, the world felt lighter than it had in years.
Despite the damp clothing plastered to his body, Ryder couldn’t remember when he'd felt warmer. Looking over at Elena, his heart skipped a beat as she beamed widely at him. A smile tugged at his lips, too. A strange fluttery sensation churned in his stomach, and his breath hitched slightly. He sucked in another gulp of cool air as the heat spreading through his chest intensified. This felt dangerously close to something real.
He couldn't let that happen.
With a groan, he pushed himself up to his feet and held out a hand to help her as a peace offering. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet easily, then released her grip, deliberately ignoring the jolt of electricity he felt where their fingers brushed against one another. Elena cast one final sweeping glance across the room before letting out a long sigh and running a hand through her disheveled hair. She looked exhausted, sweaty, and altogether thoroughly debauched from their bout of roughhousing. Somehow, she was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Shaking off that absurd line of thinking, he mentally kicked himself back to reality.
“I need to scout the area,” he announced, clearing his throat pointedly. “Make sure we're safe and all that.”
“Oh. Right,” Elena replied, letting out a deep breath as the reality of their current situation came back to haunt her. “Yeah. Wow. Just going to leave me with all this, huh?”
She gestured at the wreckage surrounding her with a wary laugh. She didn't seem angry, though, more like she was trying to break the somber tension with a joke.
Ryder shrugged in response, planting his trademark crooked smirk on his face. “Do you want me to clean all of this up, or would you rather risk being eaten alive by rogues?” he joked sarcastically. “Your choice, kid.”
When she rolled her eyes at him, he winked and quickly headed into the bedroom to throw on some dry clothes. Before long, he was racing through the forest, feeling the wind in his fur and the dirt beneath his paws. He carefully surveyed the woods, taking stock of the local flora and fauna, searching for anything unusual that might threaten them. Still no sign of intruders anywhere, and no new shifter scents since yesterday. He scoured the territory, searching the barn where he had left the car to check if the unknown wolves had come back through, but found only the disorienting smell of the chemicals he had sprayed everywhere. As far as he could tell, it was all clear. Safe for now, although he wouldn't let his guard down until the situation was dealt with once and for all.
He doused his tracks with more of the scent-suppressing spray as he went. Like yesterday, he took several laps in various directions, running far and wide to throw off any possible pursuers. By the time he reached the edge of the property, it was getting late, and he had run for several miles. It was a longer route than yesterday's round trip since he no longer worried that Elena would suddenly decide to go for an adventure while he was gone, which eased his mind and helped him think more rationally. Unlike yesterday, he could take the time to be as cautious as he needed to be.
When he approached the cabin, he shifted back into his human form and sniffed the air. A pleasant aroma of spices and herbs met his nostrils, mixing deliciously with the natural fragrance of the fresh forest air. Curiously, he opened the door to discover Elena humming in front of the stove, stirring a large pot of soup that was bubbling gently. The kitchen counter was stacked high with various cans, spice bottles, and seasonings. The previously grimy floor and furniture had been cleaned up and restored to their former glory, now smelling faintly of fresh lemons and mint, and the room felt brighter and cozier than before. Apparently, she had been keeping busy. Huh. This was... nice? Definitely unexpected. Very domestic. Terrifyingly so.
“Hey,” she said brightly, frowning when she noticed his bewildered expression. “Did everything go okay?”
A twinge of worry shone in her eyes. He nodded reassuringly and walked over to peer into the soup curiously, trying to ignore how close she stood beside him. His wolf was always louder right after a shift, and he had to keep reminding it to knock it off. Coming home to his mate—no, not his mate, get it together—cooking him dinner awakened a whole array of instincts, ones he had to beat down with an internal mallet. Still, he couldn't help stealing glances at her, watching her slender, nimble fingers dance along the spoon's handle. The urge to take her into his arms again was difficult to repress.
No. Bad idea. Too risky.
“This canned stuff you've got here isn't exactly high cuisine, but I tried to jazz it up as much as I could,” she commented, nodding toward the collection of ingredients piled on the counter. “It needs to simmer a little longer, but hopefully, it doesn't taste totally terrible.”
“Hey, I'm not picky,” he assured her with a shrug. “Better than ramen. Have you, uh, been okay here? No trouble?”
“Not unless you count stubbing my toe on the coffee table,” she quipped back, looking up at him with a faint smile.
The urge to lean down and kiss her was overwhelming. She was so close, mere inches away, with those beautiful green eyes sparkling, those full pink lips glistening, inviting him closer, daring him to touch her, taste her—
He pulled away with a sharp inhale and leaned back against the cabinet, gripping its edge tightly. Elena looked at him with a confused expression, arching her eyebrows quizzically at his sudden movement. Quickly, he looked away and cleared his throat.
“I'm going to shower,” he announced a little too loudly. Then, without waiting for her answer, he marched straight to the bathroom, shut the door, and stepped into the cold spray. Very cold. Freezing.
By the time he emerged a few minutes later, his wolf had been sufficiently chastened to the point where he was recently confident in his ability to exist in the redheaded witch's presence without slipping up. When he returned to the main room, Elena had set the table in the corner for them, and the soup smelled even better. He joined her at the table and scooped some of it into his bowl, looking everywhere but directly at her. If she noticed, she didn't say anything. Thank goodness for small mercies.
They mainly ate in amiable silence, breaking it with idle comments and random observations about the weather or the decor. Neither of them brought up the big, heavy, scary elephant in the room. The last two days had been a whirlwind of stress and fear. For just a few moments, they seemed to mutually agree that they deserved one calm, normal meal to distract from it all.
Afterward, he volunteered to wash the dishes while Elena busied herself tidying up the rest of the cabin and packing things in cabinets. Once everything had been tidied in the freshly cleaned kitchen, he checked the windows and locks, examined the electronic equipment one more time, and generally did a quick sweep of the perimeter of the house, both inside and out—still nothing.
“So, what do you guys normally do here?” Elena asked when they eventually sat down on the couch, glancing around at the barren interior of the room. There was no television or other sources of entertainment in the cabin, just old books and newspapers scattered about the shelves.
“Don't know. Never had a lot of downtime here,” Ryder said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Just slept and trained here. I think we might have beer in the pantry?”
That made her laugh softly. “Wow,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Classy. Should you really be getting drunk when you're busy saving the world or whatever it is you do, though?”
“Eh. One or two won't hurt,” he chuckled lightly as he searched the cupboard below the microwave. “Here we go. Look at that. They're old and cheap, but it's what we've got. Cheers to the good people of Bellefleur, am I right?” He tossed one of the cans into her hands playfully, and she caught it clumsily, narrowly avoiding dropping it to the floor.
She looked down at it skeptically, then back up at him, then down at the beer in her hands again. After a moment's silent contemplation, she shrugged and popped open the tab with a soft hiss.
“Yeah, sure,” she mumbled, lifting it to her lips and taking a sip. “Cheers.”
It turned out to be a surprisingly relaxing evening together. They sat on the couch, drinking and chatting, talking about their mutual friends, what had happened in Bellefleur recently, and everything they could think of that wasn't about either the unspoken tension between them or the pack of vengeful rogue shifters after them. Eventually, Elena found an old folklore book and curled up in the corner to read while Ryder tinkered with some gadgets on the counter. For a short while, things almost felt normal.