25. Kato #2
“I know. Of course you wouldn’t feel it, Kato. It’s not your fault.” He takes my wrists and kisses my fingers in some brief absolution. “I turned around as soon as I felt his terror through our bond, but now it’s gone entirely.”
“Terror…?” Oh shit.
He begins rifling through his pockets. “You call Cas. I’ll call Adrian.”
My hands are shaking as I select Cas from my contacts, ignoring the five million texts I apparently have from my brother. The phone doesn’t even ring; it goes straight to voicemail. Nate’s already trying a different number; Niall’s, I think.
“Dead,” he says. “Both of their phones are dead.”
“Cas’s too.” My throat’s beginning to close in panic.
He leads the way back outside. I don’t know where he plans on going. I don’t think he knows, either. He’s scenting something, and when I lift my nose to the air, I catch it too—milk and honey layered over something sour and acidic that immediately turns my stomach.
“Here.” Nate kneels, and I squat next to him. “It’s vomit.” He doesn’t need to clarify it’s our mate’s. We both know.
“Nate, I swear—he told me he was going to hang with them.” I’m scrambling, trying to recall if there was anything in the little beta’s face that would’ve given him away, if I’d been paying attention.
There’d only been that split-second hesitation, though.
And that could’ve been anything. Right? Now I’m second-guessing that entire conversation and fuck, I’ve done it again, I’ve gone and fucked up. “There was nothing weird about it. I—”
“I’m not blaming you, love,” he interrupts. “We have no idea what’s happening.”
It doesn’t matter if he is or not. I’m blaming me. I’ve fucked up again. If only I’d paid more attention; better attention. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Nothing good. Their phones are dead. Your bond is dead.”
“He’s alive, though,” he murmurs. “Has to be. Or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
True enough. The death of a mate is a death sentence, after all. A protracted one. Not instant, no. I’ve seen it happen only once, after an alpha was gored by a moose—his omega would’ve taken days of seizing and bleeding out of every orifice if my a-dad hadn’t performed a mercy killing.
I stand up. “What if it’s Bash?” I say. “That fuck’s probably still looking for his investment.
He’s a horse guy; I bet he came to the fair and caught Cas’s scent.
Sussed out someone to chat up about him.
Adrian and Niall are attached at the hip; it makes sense.
Doesn’t it?” It’s coming together quickly, the picture my brain’s painting. “If he used them to get to Cas…”
“It could’ve been your uncle, too,” Nate points out. “Cas is exiled. Going back onto pack lands is a punishable offense.”
“You think Cas is dumb enough to meet them on Dec’s territory? You think Adrian’s dumb enough to ask him to?”
“I think your uncle is vengeful enough to punish them even if it were on the fringes,” he says. “If one of his idiot alphas saw them on the perimeter and snitched, he’d believe them.”
“Why would he punish Adrian and Niall too, though?”
“Because he’s your uncle,” he says, as if that explains it. Which it sort of does. If anything’s been made clear to us, Declan is not stable. I’m not buying it, though, at least not for Adrian. Niall might be dispensable to him, but not a precious omega.
I compromise. “Okay. You drive us and I’ll try to figure out where this Bash cunt lives on the way to the pack lands. Two birds, one stone. We’ll ask Dec if he knows anything—if one of his few unmated omegas are missing, he’s going to freak the fuck out.”
“I’m also exiled.”
“So what? You think Dec’s actually going to kill you?
” I ask scornfully. “He’s already in deep shit with my dads.
I think they’d fly over here and execute him themselves if their son wound up dead.
Even if I am a fuck up. I’ll call his fucking bluff to his face if I have to.
” I search my mate’s gaze. “You’ve protected me a thousand times, Nate. Let me return the favor.”
He stares at me briefly, wolf-green eyes flickering with an emotion I can’t name, before he turns and starts for the SUV. His keys jingle urgently in the pocket of his jeans. “How are you going to look up Bash’s farm, exactly? We know next to nothing about him. We don’t even know his full name.”
“How many fucking racehorse farms can there be in this part of Scotland, Nate? The country’s about as long as my dick.”
Turns out—according to my internet search—there’s a lot of horse farms around here and a whole lot of guys named Sebastian. Who knew.
Back in Declan’s territory the horse fair’s in full swing, and it doesn’t seem my drunken chaos did all that much to put a damper on things.
There are streamers and balloons frothing from every surface, and the horses being led here and there are fat and shiny, dappled coats and oiled faces gleaming in the sun.
It’s more shifters in one place than I’ve seen in a long time.
It doesn’t ease Nathan’s nerves any, of course. He’s wound tight as a screw as we disembark and stride across the grounds, my nose leading me right to my uncle. I see more than a few betas scatter at the sight of us, and I wonder briefly if they’re finding a responsible alpha to snitch to.
Or maybe they’re just afraid of me. I guess that would be fair, too.
Doesn’t matter either way. I find Declan in deep conversation with another shifter who’s holding the lead of a particularly chromed-out bay stallion with a white face and four stockings.
The horse starts as we stroll up, dancing to the side with rolling eyes and flickering ears, snorting like a dragon.
He’s shod on all four feet. I give him a wide berth.
I’ve seen a beta get cow-kicked in the head by a nervous horse before.
The moment Declan’s gaze snags on us his face goes on a journey, the five full stages of grief before settling into careful indifference. “Excuse me,” he tells the other shifter. “I need a moment with my nephew.”
I hardly wait until the other shifter has led his horse out of earshot before I start in. “Hi, Uncle. Got a few questions. And before you threaten us, keep in mind Dad will kill you if anything happens to me.”
His face contorts into a hideous snarl, nothing but pure hatred there, and I know I’ve got him. My a-dad and him really have fallen out. He says nothing for what seems like forever, but it’s probably thirty seconds max before he hisses, “Tell me what you want and get the fuck out of my territory.”
In that instant I know he has nothing to do with my mate’s disappearance. I wouldn’t expect guilt on his face, but I would expect recognition, at least. I ask anyway: “You haven’t seen Cas? Or Niall or Adrian?”
“No,” he snaps. “I’ve been busy, if you couldn’t tell.”
“All three of them are missing.”
That draws him up short. The mention of his own missing pack, at least. His face flickers and falls. “What? Adrian?”
“I need two things from you,” I say. “One, the address of a racehorse guy named Bash. I assume he was here today.”
“Bash Harrington? I bought a horse from him. But—”
“And two, I need some of your wolves.”
He’s all business now, our friction momentarily forgotten. “What’s going on? You think Bash has all three of them? Why?”
“No time to explain. If you want your omega back alive, you’ll do this.”
“And who’s to say you aren’t just trying to instigate a pack war between Bash’s pack and mine?
” His eyes flare. “After all the bloody chaos you’ve caused, I don’t have a single reason to trust you.
You’ve made a mess of things since the day you set foot on this rock.
I regret ever telling my brother you could come to stay. You’re hopeless.”
I don’t have time for this. “Fine, fuck it. I’ll just google Bash fucking Harrington. Nate, let’s go. Hope there’ll be anything left of any of them by the time we get there.”
“They wouldn’t listen to you, anyway.”
“But they’ll listen to me,” Nate rumbles.
They stare each other down. Some top dog alpha shit passes between them that’s beyond me, but there’s a moment where I almost think Nate’s about to alpha command Declan into giving him some wolves. Holy fucking shit. Would that work?
“Take Patrick and Rabbie,” he says after a painfully prolonged pause. “But if they die, it’s more blood on your hands.”
“Fine,” Nate says.
“And nephew—” I jerk my head up, turning to my uncle as he addresses me. “If this is some foolish prank on your part, just know that no amount of your father’s ire will keep me from ripping your throat out.”