14. Chapter 14
Conall
“If you need anything during your stay with us, don’t hesitate to ring me,” the hotel concierge murmured in his slight British accent. He wore a black vest and a bow tie, reminding Conall of a proper English butler.
The gilded suite at The Willard Hotel in Washington, D.C., smelled like lemon furniture polish and expensive cologne. Lobbyists, billionaires, and deal brokers came here to negotiate government contracts and favors behind closed doors, over expensive meals, premium liquor, and high-end flesh.
“We’re good for now, Hudson,” Sawyer Castillo murmured, slipping the man a large bill. “Let us know if you hear anything.”
Hudson bowed elegantly to the Alpha of the Southwestern States Pack and closed the suite door behind him.
Conall stood at the window, watching the city.
Only one day in D.C., and his wolf paced inside him impatiently.
Sawyer lounged in a clawfoot armchair in a custom-made designer suit, twirling a whiskey in a crystal-cut glass.
Ash sat on the silk couch in his cargo pants and flannel shirt, looking at ease in the stuffy, pretentious hotel suite.
Conall rubbed his face. “Whatever the hell it takes, we need to stop this mandatory shifter registration law. They’re using the Roswell and Austin facilities to rage-bait and scare the public into supporting it.”
Sawyer shook his head. “It’s disturbing how thoroughly the Central Federal Government can twist the truth until it’s completely unrecognizable. The Normal population vastly outnumbers the supernaturals, yet the Feds use us as the enemy to unify their base.”
Ash nodded. “It’s not difficult when you have some supernaturals, like Skinwalkers, who are predisposed to prey on humans. But they paint us all with the same brush.”
“They’re claiming the operatives coming out of the Roswell and Austin facilities are shifters, so the Packs must be responsible,” Conall muttered. “At least half of the Alphas on the Pack Council are either too scared or too compromised to fight back.”
Sawyer pinched the bridge of his nose. “After my own father sold out his Pack children to be tested and tortured, nothing surprises me anymore.”
Conall walked over and sat. “I heard the Northeastern Pack is already drafting a Compliance Statement.”
Sawyer shook his head in disgust. “The Northeastern Alpha has always been suspect. Alexander Christopherson’s Pack earns most of its considerable wealth from defense contracts.
Nothing like a little conflict of interest.” He threw back the rest of his whiskey.
“My god, I never thought I’d see this day.
Mandatory registration tests for every shifter in North America, not just the Cogs.
Every single one of us, lining up to get tested and cataloged like animals in a fucking lab. ”
Conall leaned over and poured himself a glass of whiskey.
“We all like knowing who the high-level Cogs are in our territories.” Guilt slid through him when he thought of how he and Riley first met.
“Now I understand why Riley and other Cogs are so enraged and terrified about having to test. Jesus, the Feds made it a felony if they didn’t. ”
Riley still had some heart damage and those peculiar, round burn scars from the electroshock pads as souvenirs from her test. He wished he could kill that fucking bastard who’d tortured her all over again.
They sat quietly for several moments, and Conall sighed. “They’re good at desensitizing the public to their atrocities, and instead of forming a goddamn united front, we’re guessing which Alpha is taking bribes.”
“How bad is Riley’s implant?” Sawyer asked.
The question landed like a sucker punch, and Conall took another sip of whiskey.
“The thing is organic and now enmeshed in her brain stem, so it’s never coming out.
She’s on a case now that seems to tie into Roswell.
She ran into Marlowe and some of his operatives in Yellowstone. ” He told Sawyer what had happened.
Sawyer leaned forward. “Jesus, are they alright?”
Just thinking about them there, with him stuck in Washington D.C., made him almost feral. “Gunnar’s still in the hospital, and Jamie could lose his eye.”
“Tell me they got the Commander.”
Conall shook his head. “They took out several operatives, but not Marlowe. It gets worse. He has an implant, and somehow that psychotic bastard now reads as a high-level Compulsor. Marlowe commanded Riley to come to him. Her foot moved before she could stop it.”
Sawyer stared, his drink suspended in midair. “That’s not possible.”
“Tell that to Marlowe. The man had himself cut open and altered. Who knows how long he’s been experimenting on himself.”
Sawyer stood and stripped off his suit coat and tie. “It never fucking ends. Just when I think Apex and this corrupt fucking government can’t shock me, they find a new way to do it.”
Conall took a healthy swallow and let the alcohol burn down his throat. “Riley believes it has something to do with her father’s disappearance, and Marlowe was in the same general area. It’s not a coincidence.”
“So whatever’s out there—”
Conall rubbed his eyes. “Is worth killing for. Viggo disappeared, his witch friend was tortured and killed, and Langston tried to forcibly take Riley.”
Ash leaned forward. “Riley can manipulate enough voltage to take down anyone who gets in her way.”
Conall stood and paced back to the window.
The bond between them had been fluctuating for days, a distant hum that sometimes flared with warmth and then went cold for hours.
He’d felt her fear during the ambush, a jagged, white-hot spike that nearly dropped him to his knees in the middle of a strategy session.
And then nothing. His wolf was ready to revolt.
“We need to get the Alphas in line and wrap this up,” Sawyer murmured as he rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt. A knock sounded on the door, and Sawyer’s eyebrow rose. “Are you expecting company?”
“No. Maybe it’s Hudson again.” Conall crossed the room and opened the door. Two female shifters stood outside, wearing nightclub dresses and expensive perfume.
The taller, statuesque woman had the build of a 1950s pinup model. Her short, blue silk dress hugged her curves, and her blond hair fell in waves down her back. She wore diamond studs and thick gold necklaces.
Beside her stood a younger woman with long, wavy brown hair framing a heart-shaped face. Her red dress plunged in front, and her black stiletto fuck-me shoes were at least five inches tall.
Conall’s wolf snarled his dislike. The well-dressed women reminded his beast of Anna.
“Alpha Segerson.” The blond woman smiled up at him. “I’m Elena Mercer, a Beta in the Northeastern States Pack. And this is Ashley Kovac.”
Conall had heard of Elena. She was educated, fought well, and was rumored to be smart. Why would the Northeastern Alpha send him one of his best Betas?
The younger shifter smiled at him, her teeth white against her full, red lips. “Alpha Christopherson asked us to ensure your stay in the capital is pleasurable. Our Alpha thought you gentlemen might appreciate some companionship during the Council sessions.”
Elena nodded. “Someone to help you relax after a long day of negotiations.”
The wolf in him bared its teeth as Sawyer rose from his chair and strode to the minibar, his energy sharp with cynical amusement. Conall could smell it on him—the bastard was enjoying this.
“Alpha Christopherson is very thoughtful,” Elena continued, stepping into the suite without being invited, her hips swaying seductively. “We’re here to provide any services that might make your stay more enjoyable.”
Ashley followed, her dark eyes sweeping the three shifters. “We’re shifters, Alpha. We can take rough handling well.” Her voice dropped. “However you like it.”
His wolf wanted to rip her goddamned throat out.
Conall kept his expression flat, but something cold and dangerous uncoiled in his chest. His bond with Riley hummed.
He missed her. Missed her sweet pine scent, the way her blue eyes narrowed when she concentrated, and the way she pressed her forehead against his chest when she was tired.
Here stood a couple of Christopherson’s female shifters, being pimped out like party favors. Disgust roiled in his gut.
Sawyer stepped forward, his charm dialed to a pleasant, disarming warmth. “I’ll have to decline.”
“Same,” Conall informed them.
Ashley’s smile faltered, but Elena’s didn’t. “Alright. Is there anything else you need?”
“No. Alpha Christopherson has a peculiar way of showing hospitality.” His wolf pressed against his skin, disgust coursing through his veins.
“Sending Betas to my hotel room like you’re a bottle of whiskey or a bag of potato chips, and not a valuable member of his Pack.
You both deserve better, and so does my Alpha Mate. ”
Elena’s eyes flared in surprise, but she quickly masked it. “It’s my Alpha’s right to use me as he sees fit.” She’d known he was mated, of course. But hearing it stated so possessively changed the atmosphere in the room.
Conall’s nostrils flared. “That’s bullshit. It’s his duty and privilege to protect and respect his Packmates. You can tell him if he wants to discuss Council business, my door is open. If he wants to bribe me with flesh, he’s no different than a sex trafficker.”
Ashley’s face flushed dark. Her hands curled at her sides, and he could smell her sharp, acrid anger mingling with wounded pride. “That’s not—”
“It’s exactly what this is,” Conall cut her off. “Tell him that the Northwestern States Pack doesn’t operate this way.”
Ashley looked like she’d been slapped. She opened her mouth, but Elena put a hand on her arm.
“We understand, Alpha Segerson. Please don’t take offense.” Elena’s voice was smooth and calm. Her winter-blue eyes held his for a beat, then her mouth curved up as she turned to the door. Ashley hesitated, her pride clearly wounded, before following.
At the threshold, Elena paused and looked back over her shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I agree with you.” She shrugged an elegant shoulder. “Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.”
The door closed behind them with a soft click.
“Well, that was something,” Sawyer muttered, his expression shifting from polite amusement to annoyance. “My intel informs me that Alexander Christopherson is an autocrat and runs his Pack like a dictatorship.”
Conall nodded. “Same. Drew’s dossier on his Betas says that Elena has an advanced degree in cross-cultural political science. She’s the one who should be at the negotiating table. What a waste.”
Conall turned back to the window as his wolf paced inside him, restless and furious. The Northeastern Alpha had just insulted him, his mate, and his Pack, all wrapped in the guise of hospitality. The bond with Riley was a distant thread of warmth he clung to.
Sawyer pulled out his phone and dialed his sister, Madison, who was also one of his top Betas. “Sawyer, it’s almost midnight. What are you still doing awake?”
“We have a situation. Conall and Ash are here with me.” Sawyer put her on speaker.
“Of course you do,” she sighed. “Let me guess. The Council vote is going sideways, and you need me to strong-arm a few shifters.”
“Yes, but Conall and I will work on that. He’s here with me.”
Madison raised her voice. “Is Riley there?”
“Hello to you too, Beta Castillo,” Conall teased. The Southwestern Pack loved Riley and barely tolerated him. He wasn’t surprised after what’d happened with Anna.
“Good evening, Alpha Segerson. Will you put Riley on the phone now?”
Sawyer leaned forward. “She’s in Yellowstone on a missing persons case. That’s actually why we’re calling. Riley and her partner were ambushed a few days ago by Commander Marlowe and four Apex operatives while they were investigating a suspicious area inside the Park.”
Madison’s voice went serious. “Is she hurt? What happened?” They filled her in and told her about Jamie and Gunnar’s injuries.
“Is Riley alright? The Pack kids she helped rescue from ApGen ask about her all the time.”
Conall’s voice took on a low growl. “A bullet graze to her thigh that she still hasn’t fessed up to. Freda and the hellhounds are with her. But Marlowe has an implant now, and Riley says he’s exhibiting high-level Compulsor traits. He tried to use it on her.”
Another silence, longer this time. Through the speaker, Conall heard Madison let out a long breath.
“Did I just hear you correctly?”
“Yes,” Ash answered. “We’re all shocked.”
“How? Why? My mind is having difficulty processing the ramifications. What do you need from me?”
Sawyer glanced at Conall. “Riley needs protection, and we need to figure out what Marlowe is doing in Yellowstone. It appears Conall is running low on Betas who he trusts with his mate’s life. Jamie is out of commission, and Ash is here.”
Conall nodded. “Riley’s partner is down too, and Marlowe is still out there hunting whatever is at those coordinates. But she’s determined to get to the site before Marlowe can regroup.”
“I want to go,” Madison informed them.
Sawyer was already shaking his head. “No way. I need you at home running operations for me. The registration vote is coming up, and the Southwestern Pack needs a steady hand in our territory if this goes sideways. I’m sending Malcolm.”
Conall’s wolf bristled, a low snarl building in his chest before he could swallow it back.
Malcolm was one of Sawyer’s best Betas. He was also a mouthy, brash Scot who had an interesting, complicated relationship with his mate.
Conall had watched them bicker and spar, and saw Malcolm’s eyes follow her when she wasn’t looking.
Madison hummed in agreement. “Good choice. Malcolm will keep her safe.”
“I agree,” Sawyer murmured.
Conall’s jaw went hard. “There has to be someone else.”
“He’s the best choice,” Madison argued.
“My wolf doesn’t like it. Riley also calls Malcolm Red, and the bastard barred me from your Pack house in Vegas.” He sounded like a petulant child.
Sawyer grinned, and Conall wanted to punch him. “He’ll keep her safe. She needs support, and you need to be here. Malcolm is professional and loyal, and he’ll protect her. The rest is irrelevant, Alpha.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Madison murmured. “Malcolm might be forward, but he’s not stupid, Conall. He knows exactly what she is to you.”
Sawyer nodded. “Let’s send two others with him. A medic and another fighter. They need to be on the ground by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thank you,” Conall ground out, not feeling grateful at all.
“Good luck tomorrow. Let me know if you need anything else.” Madison signed off, and Conall closed his eyes. He hoped to God Riley didn’t have another run-in with that bastard before help arrived.
If Marlowe took her again, he’d burn the world down this time to find her.