34. Chapter 34
Riley
No. Even if my father married Zaria and didn’t tell me, it wasn’t a betrayal. My mother barely tolerated us, and if he found someone who loved him and made him happy, even for a short time, I couldn’t begrudge him.
But if they had gotten married, he’d never told me.
The ring sat heavy in my palm, a dull gold circle that connected two people I’d thought existed in separate worlds.
My implant ran probability calculations and mapped connections.
My dad and Zaria. My dad and Viggo. Lake Bled, Yellowstone, and thermal energy.
The Chimera Project and General Wilson. Pieces floated through my mind.
I slipped Zaria’s ring back into the evidence bag, then tucked it into my jacket pocket with the address book, feeling the weight of both.
“There’s one more thing I want to do,” I told Ash. Walking back into the kitchen, I found a notepad and a pen and wrote a short note.
The fish stew recipe on page 129 would be good with fresh trout. I listed my phone number and signed the note R.B., then set it on the counter next to the cookbook.
Gunnar appeared in the doorway, his bulk filling the frame. “What the hell is that about?”
“I’ll explain later.”
He sniffed loudly. “Tell me now.”
“You’ll live. Come on, let’s go.”
Ash was already standing on the porch, staring into the misty forest with Athena next to him. Mangus’s massive head came up, and he walked over to me and brushed my thigh.
We locked up the cabin and retaped the door, the yellow tape fluttering. I zipped my jacket higher. The mist had thickened, turning the forest into something from a Grimm Brothers fairy tale, with jagged edges and hidden things.
Mangus lifted his head, and Athena’s ears swiveled forward. Then I heard a thin, reedy sound.
It came again, as a small, bedraggled shape emerged from the trees at the edge of the clearing. It looked like a bobcat. No, not a bobcat. It was Zaria’s Pixie-bob, Edwina, with her tufted ears and stubby tail.
She limped toward us, looking thinner. Her left eye was swollen and crusted with pus, the skin around it angry and red. She made that sound again, a meow that cracked in the middle.
“Jesus,” Gunnar muttered. “Is that Zaria’s cat? What’s her name?”
“Edwina. Ed for short,” I answered quietly.
Ed limped across the clearing, her gait uneven, and headed straight for Ash.
She rubbed against his leg, leaving a streak of what might’ve been blood on his dark pant leg. Her purr was ragged, like something broken.
Ash knelt. His large hands careful. “Hey, little one. Where have you been?”
Mangus whined but stayed at my side. Athena padded over to the cat, and I tensed, expecting her to snarl or lunge. But she bent and licked at Edwina’s swollen eye. The cat leaned into the hellhound’s tongue.
My eyebrows shot up, and I glanced at Ash, who was gently checking the cat’s leg. Edwina trembled as the white hellhound delicately licked her swollen eye, clearing away the crust and pus. Ed’s purr grew stronger, the feeble sound smoothing out a little.
“Her eye’s infected, and she has bite marks along her flank.” Ash’s hands hovered over her, sending a warm flutter of his Homeopath energy into her little body.
“She’s lost weight and looks dehydrated,” Gunnar added. “How long has she been out here?”
My stomach twisted when I remembered asking Emmett about her, but I’d never followed up.
“Probably since Zaria was murdered. I have some water in the SUV.” I grabbed my metal water bottle, screwed off the lid, and used it as a bowl.
Edwina slurped it up, and I filled it twice more before she had her fill.
I couldn’t keep a cat in a house full of wolf shifters and two hellhounds. My job also kept me traveling, and she’d need veterinary care and a stable home.
I didn’t care. We’d figure it out, and Athena seemed alright with her. Mangus just watched, his head tilted and massive jaw slack, smoky drool dripping from his mouth.
“We’re taking her,” I informed Ash.
Ash was already gathering Edwina to his chest. She went limp in his arms, her good eye closing.
Something inside me melted at the sight of this kind, serious shifter, with his warrior’s build, gently holding a half-starved cat.
The size difference should have been absurd, but it wasn’t.
Ash was part of my family now. Somewhere along the way, I’d been adopted into Conall’s Pack. Even Owen, bless his heart.
I ran back inside and searched Zaria’s cupboards, finding several small cans of premium cat food.
I stuffed my pockets and found a saucer.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered to the house.
“We’ve got Edwina, and I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.
” A soft sigh drifted through the air, and then the cottage went silent.
After feeding the cat and locking back up, Gunnar drove us away. The mist seemed to follow us, clinging to the windshield for a moment. In the rearview mirror, I watched Zaria’s cabin disappear into the gray.
When we returned to the bungalow, Ash set Edwina on the couch. The cat curled into a tight ball, her good eye watching us with wary intelligence. I dug through the dish towels, found an old one, and soaked it with warm water.
“Her eye needs antibiotics.” Ash knelt beside her and held his hand out for the cloth, his healing energy swirling around him. Edwina let out a soft purr as he wiped her down.
“I’ll call Beau and see if there’s any ointment or something at the infirmary. I also need to make a few phone calls.”
Ash stayed with the cat, and I walked to my bedroom and dialed Drew’s number.
He answered on the first ring. “Hey. Are you okay? I heard what happened.”
“I got away, and I’m still alive. Drew, I need a favor.”
He paused. “Okay. What do you need?”
“As much footage as you can find showing I was taken and detained at the Las Vegas Apex Mentis facility. Security cameras, traffic surveillance, parking garage footage, anything that shows I was there.”
“Why?” Drew asked cautiously.
“Because I’m not going to let them deny and evade this time.” I tried to keep it vague, but Drew was a Strategist.
“Riley, what’re you planning?”
The silence stretched, and I sighed. “If you won’t help me, I’ll call Madison. She–”
“Just tell me what you need it for.”
“I’m calling in a debt. When I Spooled to help the Pack find your missing children, I exposed myself. I need that footage. And like I said, if you won’t help me, there’s always Madison.”
“Fine, I’ll help you on two conditions. You don’t have to call Madison.” Shifters were a competitive bunch. “I won’t keep anything from Conall, and this won’t cause you to get hurt or kidnapped again.”
I needed to thread this needle carefully. “You can tell Conall whatever you want, and this will help keep us all safer. I need it in the next twenty-four hours. Can you get it?”
He fell silent for a moment, then sighed and began typing. “The facility is classified, and most of that footage is encrypted, compartmentalized, and likely air-gapped. Accessing it means hacking the most dangerous branch of the federal armed forces. It’s a felony and carries a prison sentence.”
“So you can get it,” I guessed.
“Yeah,” he sighed.
“Thank you. I need anything that shows Wilson, especially the Apex facility, and Langston. There’s probably footage from the pediatrician’s office as well. Timestamps matter.”
“I’ll need at least twelve hours.” A pause. “Riley, whatever you’re planning—”
“Trust me.”
Another sigh. “Fine. Twelve hours. Maybe more. I’ll text you when I have something.”
“Thank you.”
“My next call is going to be to Conall.”
“I know.” I hung up and walked out to the kitchen.
Gunnar stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, his massive frame blocking the light. “What was that about?”
“I’m building a case.”
“About what?”
“General Wilson and Apex’s involvement. Both at Mary Mountain and when they kidnapped me.” I rubbed my eyes.
Gunnar eyed me and plucked the bottle of whiskey off the counter. “Sit down and tell me what you’re thinking. Wanna drink?”
I shook my head. “I just took a couple of pain pills. I think Viggo’s still alive. In fact, I think he was never abducted.”
He didn’t look surprised as he poured himself two fingers and collapsed on the couch. “Why do you think so?”
“He’s careful and knows how to live off-grid.
He’s also frugal and has paused a few of his monthly subscriptions.
” My implant reminded me of Zaria’s house.
“There are also the well-tended herb pots in the witch’s kitchen window and the open cookbook on her counter.
Viggo likes to cook. Someone’s been taking care of her place. ”
He considered this, his eyes narrowing. “You think Viggo faked his disappearance to bring us here to find Mary Mountain.”
“Yes.” I leaned back in the armchair by the fireplace. Mangus settled in next to me, his massive head on his paws. “I need to go to Washington. Or maybe New York.”
Ash stood from where he’d been sitting on the couch next to Edwina. “Washington State or D.C.?”
“The latter.” Anyone who lived west of Montana and Texas usually asked which Washington.
“Wilson and his people are based there. Along with the federal law enforcement agencies.”
“I’m aware.” My implant pulsated in my neck, processing risk factors and the probability of getting in and out safely. The numbers weren’t encouraging. “Gunnar, I need you to take care of Edwina and write a progress report for Fergus. But do it slowly.”
His mouth twitched. “You want me to delay.”
“I want you to be thorough.”
He grunted. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. A few days maybe.”
He studied me for a long moment, then nodded toward the phone. “You’d better call Fergus.”
We ended up calling him together when I put him on speaker and sat next to Gunnar.
“Blackthorne. You checking in or checking out?”
“Both. Listen, I need some time off.”
A pause. “How much time?”
“A few days. Enough to handle a personal matter.”
Another pause, longer this time. I could hear papers shuffling and the creak of his chair. Fergus was a career bureaucrat. I didn’t fully trust him, but I still considered him a friend. At least he was my father’s friend. Right now, he was probably calculating how much trouble I was worth.
“Don’t tell me where you’re going,” he finally muttered. “In fact, I’d prefer not to know anything beyond what you’ve already told me. Officially, you’re on medical leave for recovery from your recent... incident.”
“Thank you.”
“Unofficially?” His voice dropped. “Watch your back because these people don’t fuck around. And come back in one piece. I’ve got enough paperwork without adding an agent’s death to the pile.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“See that you do.” He hung up.
Gunnar cocked a bushy eyebrow. “That went better than expected.”
“Fergus isn’t stupid. He knows something’s happening, and he’s choosing not to get involved. It gives him plausible deniability.”
He smiled grimly. “That’s Fergus for you.”
I picked up my phone and stood. “I’m going to clean up.”
Gunnar nodded and stretched. “I’ll rustle up some food.”
I walked into my room, closed the door, and dialed Parker. He answered on the first ring.
“What’s going on now? You good?”
“Yeah, but I’m going to Washington. Or maybe New York.”
He went quiet. “You still going through with this?”
“Yes. Can you contact your EOD tech Marine buddy?” Then I explained to him what I needed.
I pictured him standing at the bar, one hip braced against the counter, his light brown hair wild, those cold eyes narrowed.
Then I thought of the new Pack house next door, within walking distance, with Feeny and Freda there.
And whoever else came and went. I closed my eyes against the homesickness surging in my chest.
“You sure? There’s no going back.”
I exhaled. “Yes.”
“Does Conall know?”
“He will.”
Another pause. “I’ll make the calls. Becker’s dead, by the way.”
The switch in topic threw me off. “What?”
“Doctor Becker is dead. Wilson’s man. The same one who touched you.”
“What happened?”
“I went after him, but Conall got there first.”
“How’d he die?” I was probably going to regret asking.
“He was eviscerated, and someone ripped off his dick and left him to bleed out. It took him a while to die, so tell Conall I approve. Watch your ass, Bug.”
He disconnected as I stared unseeing at the wall. I hung up and walked slowly back out to the kitchen.
Gunnar was reheating his leftover stew, and Ash had made grilled cheese sandwiches. I stayed away from the stew.
The day was gray and drizzly, so we ate in front of the hearth. The fire popped, sending sparks up the chimney. Edwina stretched out on the couch, and Gunnar sat beside her, feeding her bits of meat from his mystery stew.
Setting my plate aside, I stared at the strange-looking cat. “Gunnar, can you take care of Edwina until we figure out what to do with her? I’m not sure she’d enjoy living in a house full of wolf shifters.”
He gave her a head scratch. “Yeah. I don’t know how my cats are gonna react to her, but I can take her home and see.”
“Thanks. I have a few things I need to do, then I’ll come for her if it doesn’t work out.” The old bungalow creaked softly around us, the smell of rain, wet pine, and burning wood permeating the living room.
I savored the quiet, knowing the peace would be fleeting.