5. Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Gage
“Why are you still driving this piece of shit?” Mason asked as he flopped into the front seat of my truck.
“Why does old equal piece of shit to you? That makes you the biggest piece of shit I know.” I slapped the dash of the truck. “It runs great, and I don’t have to take it to some fancy ass mechanic whenever I need an oil change.”
Mason, like my brother, had an obsession with fast, shiny cars. He was more subtle in his taste, going for sleek and black instead of the flashy colors Levi drove around.
I understood the appeal to an alpha. Humans saw wealth as power and flaunting it gave Levi another edge. What I didn’t understand was driving something like that around a city where parking on the wrong road guaranteed smashed windows or worse.
No one fucked with my truck. It was black and a little dusty with just enough rust around the wheel well to make people ignore it. That was what I wanted.
“There’s a difference between old and ancient.” Mason clicked his buckle and indicated for me to start driving.
“This truck is younger than you,” I pointed out.
“I look better though.”
“You look like a fucking hick.”
He was wearing jeans, a rust-colored shirt, and beat up cowboy boots. His camo baseball cap sat low over his eyes. Not exactly subtle in this city.
Mason grinned, lifting his shirt to reveal a massive belt buckle with a shiny rooster in the center. “Dallas gave it to me.”
A piercing tone shot up the side of my neck and I twitched. Would I ever hear his name without reacting?
“That’s the goofiest shit I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s because you ain’t seen anything outside a computer screen in five years.”
I merged onto the highway, following the signs for Sammamish. “I’m about to see the insides of Connor Ware if he doesn’t tell me where my missing wolf is.”
Mason quieted, his expression hardening. “This is the fourth one in sixteen months.”
“I know.”
The fourth missing shifter in Washington state. All female. All submissive. I couldn’t let myself think about it or I would lose total control.
The tone started in my ear again, a persistent buzz that sent shocks of pain down the left side of my body. My wolf snarled inside me, and I barely managed to stifle the sound before Mason heard.
I could feel his wolf watching, agitated at the idea of a missing female, waiting for my command. If I let myself snap, he would snap too.
Shit, this was going to make things difficult. I lifted my left wrist to my nose, inhaling the faintest scent from the elastic band I wore there.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to keep my head. For now.
Finding Mackenna’s coworkers online was easy, but I needed more. I needed to see the way they reacted when I asked them point-blank if they’d seen her. Since none of them were likely to agree to come into the office for an interview, we were taking the interview to them.
An ambush.
“What do you think about how The Initiative is going?”
It was a carefully vague question. Mason was loyal to Levi, and to our alpha in Alaska. He wouldn’t undermine their authority by questioning their choices.
At the same time, he had his doubts. I did too. After what happened to us, I found it hard to believe humans would ever allow shifters the freedom to protect themselves.
“I think things are going to get worse before they get better,” I answered cautiously.
The Non-Disclosure Initiative was more than thirty years in the making. It was my mom’s idea, a movement intended to show the general public that shifters were more endangered than they were dangerous. She argued that mandatory reporting laws opened the door for discrimination and violence against shifters. There was ample evidence to support her claim.
It was also her intention to bring a petition to state representatives to amend shifter’s constitutional rights to protect them from discrimination, making it possible for shifters to further integrate into human society.
I wasn’t sure I wanted shifters to further integrate. By the time I came of age, shifters had long since established themselves in the human world. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like if we stayed separate.
The work Levi and I were doing here in Seattle made me realize that wasn’t a foolproof solution. More shifters in human cities was leading to a growing anti-shifter attitude, but it was also making it possible for shifters like Amelia and her sister to escape.
“There isn’t one right answer,” I said after some thought. “But I think The Initiative will at least make humans aware of how bad it is.”
“There are humans that care, Gage. More than you think.” Mason leaned his cheek on his fist, gazing out the window.
For a second, I felt something off about his wolf, a heavy sensation. Like he was sick.
Then Mason cleared his throat, and it was gone, a distant thread of emotion I couldn’t catch through the haze of pain radiating from my ear.
“I’ve never met one.” That probably wasn’t true. There were humans in the Alaska pack with mates and shifter children. I’d met plenty of them that would die on this hill to protect their families.
They were the exception. Outliers so rare it wasn’t worth considering.
“Abby cares.”
I tensed, waiting for him to say more. I didn’t like it when any of them talked about Abigail. Even hearing her name, so familiar on their lips, made my wolf rage. He and I were at odds over her, and it was only getting worse.
The wolf was smitten. Because he was a dumb animal that only understood mates as a black and white concept.
He writhed in my chest. If it was possible for him to turn on me and attack, he would have. Only after attacking Mason for daring to think about his mate.
“You’re giving her too much credit.” She liked the idea of helping shifters trying to leave their packs the same way she liked helping dogs at the pound. I knew because during her background check I found years of volunteer work with animal rescue groups.
We were just helpless pets to her.
“Maybe you’re not giving her enough.” He slumped further into the passenger seat. “What’s with the bracelet?”
I resisted ripping the hair band off my wrist and stuffing it in my pocket. I was going to need it to interrogate Mackenna’s coworkers without going feral.
A tiny flicker of my conscience tugged for my attention. Was it wrong to use Abigail like that? Stealing her shit just to get by when we weren’t in the office together?
It had only been three weeks, and I was already struggling with my resolve to ignore her. She was everywhere, always buzzing around the office, leaving a trail of her scent to madden me while I was trying to focus. The soft tone of her voice carrying through my door—should’ve taken Levi up on the offer to soundproof it—and stealing coherent thoughts right out of my head.
For the most part, I could ignore the bond, but it was harder when she was right there all the time.
Or maybe it was harder when she wasn’t there, leaving for the day and making me fight my wolf not to follow her. To pant at her feet like a dog.
Pathetic.
Anyway, it wasn’t like I was doing anything to her. It was a hair band. Women left that shit everywhere. Tomorrow, I would put it back on her desk and she would never know it was gone.
I wasn’t using her. I was utilizing the resources available to me.
Just like humans did.
“It’s not a bracelet,” I grumbled. “It’s just to help me remember something.”
Mason cocked a sideways grin. “Since when do you forget anything?”
Since Abigail decided to ruin my life by starting hers over in Seattle.
“We’ve got ten more minutes. Get your head in the game.”
Not that he was the one who needed that reminder. Levi sent Mason to babysit me and even if the idea I needed a babysitter sat sour with me, it was the right choice.
Mason wasn’t as dominant as me. When Levi was gone, he looked to me for direction. That meant if I went off the rails and killed some anti-shifter asshole, Mason would follow suit. Pretty good motivation to keep myself in check. Protecting my pack brothers was more important than anything, even finding a lone female.
There was no one to look out for females if I didn’t first look out for my pack.
Mason straightened, obeying my instructions even as he scowled at me. He was attentive when I explained what I knew about Connor Ware.
High school graduate, no college. He worked at the slaughterhouse for the past six years. No long-term girlfriend, no other notable relationships.
I found a handful of comments on anti-shifter threads on a series of forums but none that were outwardly hateful or threatening violence. My impression was that he liked feeling superior and since he had no superiority over his peers, he chose to take that out on shifters instead. I wouldn’t know if that was true until I confronted him.
It wasn’t quite evening when we pulled into the concrete lot outside the slaughterhouse. A sign reading “CRT Meat Processing” was the only indication that animals were handled here until I rolled down the window and caught the metallic scent of blood and the stink of shit.
The lot was only half full, my truck making the perfect addition in a row of well-used vehicles. There were security cameras above the single steel door, but they were pointed toward the doorway, probably to monitor employees rather than keep the building secure.
Even if I could get my hands on the footage, the chances of catching a glimpse of Mackenna were slim.
Sunlight spilled through the window and over the dash. I flipped the sun visor down, undoing my seatbelt and getting comfortable. Connor was due to finish his shift in less than an hour. A short wait for most people but with two agitated wolves in the cab of my truck, it would feel long.
I fingered the hairband on my wrist, mentally repeating the details about Mackenna’s disappearance. I couldn’t afford to miss anything. Her life depended on my focus.
Pain zinged up the side of my neck. Mason slapped his at the same time, making me whip my head in his direction.
“Did you hear it too?”
He raised one eyebrow. “The voices in your head? Nah, I just got this weird muscle twitch. It bothers me.”
I stared at the left side of his neck, painfully aware of my own, watching the fine white scar move with his pulse. “Where?”
A murmured conversation drifted through my window as the steel door swung open. Was it five already?
Six men walked slowly from the building, laughing and cursing at each other. It didn’t take long for me to spot my prey. Buzzed head, brown eyes, above average height for a human.
Connor was fit, too. I could see by the way he moved that he had decent muscle. Maybe not enough to take on a full-grown shifter—even a female—but enough to intimidate a submissive one if she was cornered.
Time to give him a taste of his own medicine.
Mason and I waited until he was at the driver’s side door of his black sedan, shouting to his co-worker over the hood. His friend noticed us first, pausing mid-conversation to stare wide-eyed.
“Connor Ware?” Mason and I approached casually, posture relaxed. It was a skill to keep an agitated wolf at bay. We both had a lot of practice.
Connor straightened, his keys clenched tightly in one hand. “’Sup?”
“We’re investigators in a missing persons case.”
Impersonating law enforcement was illegal. Using broad language and letting someone believe we were law enforcement? Well, it wasn’t my responsibility what someone else assumed about me.
One of many legal grey areas I had to skirt during my investigations.
“Who’s missing?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, feigning confusion. The sudden uptick in his heartbeat gave him away. Connor Ware already knew why we were here.
“One of your coworkers, Mackenna Patelle. Have you seen her recently?”
Connor sized us up, studiously avoiding eye contact. Whether that was because he could feel the aura of dominance that surrounded me and Mason like a force field or because he was experienced enough to understand shifter etiquette, I couldn’t say.
“I don’t see any badges.”
“I don’t need a badge to look for a missing person,” I stated calmly.
“But you do know shifters require a rabies tag before they’re allowed to work, right?” He curled his thin lips into a smirk. “That’s what you are. Smells like a zoo over here.”
The tone in my ear became louder, the pitch rising. “What I am is looking for a missing woman.” I took a step closer, and the smirk slipped from his mouth. “Where’s Mackenna?”
Despite his obvious fear, he held his ground. I underestimated him.
“We have documented history of harassment from you. That’s not going to look good when the cops come asking these same questions.” That one was an outright lie.
“Cops don’t give a fuck about a missing mutt. That’s why you’re here.”
The tone was more of a vibration than a sound now, pulsing through to my bones and lighting up the most violent parts of me. I had Connor by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the side of his car so hard the window cracked.
The growl in my throat made my words nearly incoherent. “Where the fuck is Mackenna?”
He withdrew his keys from his pocket and clicked the fob. I jerked back as the car alarm blared through the lot, tearing at my sensitive ears. Connor didn’t realize it, but he did me a favor. Gutting him wasn’t going to get me the answers I needed.
He was behind the wheel before we could react, tossing a middle finger through the window. Our audience was shuffling nervously, two of them punching buttons on their phone. Probably calling the cops.
The sedan kicked into reverse, nearly taking our toes off as Connor fled the parking lot.
It wasn’t too far from the reaction I expected but I had hoped we could squeeze more information out of him. Unfortunately, he was prepared for us.
Meaning he knew shifters would come looking for Mackenna if she went missing.
Mason and I lingered in the parking lot, eyeing the remaining onlookers and watching for a reaction. We took our time heading back to the truck, allowing the nervous ones to scurry to their cars and flee.
Best-case scenario, I had a chat with all of them. Even if they were buddies with Connor, they would have seen him harassing Mackenna. That would require more strategy than our initial approach, a slow and tedious hunt.
Did Mackenna have that kind of time?
Connor didn’t strike me as the type to kill a woman and casually return to work like nothing happened. He was strong but if it came down to it, a submissive female would fight for her life. That man didn’t have so much as a scratch on him.
Mackenna could have snapped him in two.
That didn’t mean Connor was innocent. He had a clear dislike for shifters that he took out on Mackenna.
“Sir?” I smelled the man before he was within speaking distance, his drugstore body products mingling with the stench of his fear.
Mason and I slowed, swiveling to look back but not turning the full brunt of our attention on the man.
“Did I hear you say that you’re looking for Mackenna?” He was short with black hair and black eyes. His brown skin gleamed with sweat despite the autumn breeze cutting between the cars.
The air was cool in my lungs as I rubbed my forearm across my face and inhaled at the wrist. Already the scent of sweet summer was fading from the hair band.
“You heard correct,” I answered, dipping my head to appear smaller. Levi used that trick all the time, easing nervous shifters and jumpy humans by playing puppy.
By the look on this man’s face, it wasn’t working for me. He stopped a good six feet from us, phone in hand. I could see the numbers 9-1-1 already punched into the keypad on his screen.
“She’s missing?”
“Her sister hasn’t seen her in nearly two weeks.”
“We thought she was going to quit after—” He made eye contact with his phone, his thumb sliding along the base of the screen.
“After she shifted?”
He squirmed in place. “We didn’t know she was a shifter.”
“But you knew she was a woman being harassed by her male coworker,” I pointed out. “What do you think Connor would have done if she hadn’t shifted?”
He put his hands up defensively. “Hey man, I mind my own business. I need this job.”
I grit my teeth. “And Mackenna needed help. When’s the last time you saw her?”
“She came back a few days later, but they let her go. They don’t—” He gulped. “They don’t hire shifters here.”
“Did she have any interaction with Connor that day?”
“No, he left her alone. I think he was scared of her.” He cracked a half smile. “But I saw her on my way home after my shift. She was still walking.”
“What do you mean ‘still walking?’ Walking where?”
“Home. Mackenna didn’t have a car.”
I rubbed my jaw. Mackenna didn’t have a cell phone which meant she had no way to let her sister know that she needed a ride. Instead of waiting in the parking lot for hours and risking more harassment from Connor, she decided to walk almost fourteen miles. With shifter stamina she could manage it, but there wasn’t anywhere to walk without being in the way of traffic.
“Where exactly did you see her?”
Mackenna’s coworker gave the details of his last sighting of her. He flicked through his phone, erasing the numbers on his keypad and opening a GPS app to look at the road.
“She was on Highway 202, not too far from this road.” He stepped closer, holding up the screen for me to see.
“Why didn’t you offer her a ride?” Mason cut in. “Let me guess, it wasn’t your business.”
Mackenna’s coworker tucked his phone into the pocket of his jeans, backpedaling toward his car. “I hope you find her.”
We drove highway 202 for over an hour, me bumping the truck along the narrow shoulder with my hazard lights on while Mason shifted and ran alongside. The woods were dense as we moved further southeast, leaving plenty of places for a scared shifter to hide.
Amelia said she found Mackenna closer to Sammamish the first time she ran from Connor. That was where she looked the second time she came to pick up her sister and couldn’t find her in the lot outside work. Though she didn’t have the training we did, Amelia was a wolf shifter. Her innate ability to hunt and track was better than good.
If she claimed to find zero trace of her sister closer to city limits, she was probably right. We would start our search in the opposite direction first, looping back when we decided it too unreasonably far for Mackenna to have travelled on her own.
We were just outside Snoqualmie when Mason disappeared, ducking low into a dip in the ground and falling from my line of sight. I slowed the truck to a crawl, waiting to see his brown head pop up before moving along.
Mason didn’t reappear. Instead, there was a howl, hateful and furious. I slammed the truck into park, barely remembering to check my mirrors before flinging the door open.
He stood with his back to me, eyes scanning the trees as if there were an immediate threat. It was getting dark now, the trees obscuring the distant light from nearby buildings, and my eyes wanted me to believe there was something moving.
An enemy I could kill.
Except our enemy was invisible, and whoever he—or they—were, he was cunning.
He hunted Mackenna, wearing her down. She had to know she was going the wrong way, following the road away from home. There was safety in numbers. No one knew that better than a submissive wolf.
The only reason Mackenna would come this way, and this far, was if she felt she had no choice.
And she did come this way.
I knew because Mason stood protectively over a single white shoe, the scent of wolf shifter and fear still burned into the fabric.
I scooped it up, brining it to my nose to inhale. Amelia provided Mackenna’s belongings for us to learn her scent. The female shifter that wore this shoe was an exact match.
Mason howled again, and my wolf silently joined him.
We would search the area as much as we could without getting caught trespassing. Shifting so we could slip in and out of the shadows of trees.
But I knew before I tossed my clothes in the front seat of the truck and dropped to all fours that we wouldn’t find anything.
Mackenna was gone and whoever took her knew not to leave a trace.
Habit had me backing my truck into a parking space down the block from the office. I could park it in the garage, but I was already feeling claustrophobic in the cab with Mason.
Searching for Mackenna required skills we gained from our wolves. After hours of searching, they were close to the surface, frustrated by an unsuccessful hunt. Mackenna’s shoe mocked me from where it was wedged in my cup holder.
Silence pressed in on us. The air around Mason shifted and I noticed it again. Sickness.
Something was wrong with his wolf.
Something was wrong with my wolf too.
Something was wrong with all of us.
“I gotta go,” Mason clipped, climbing out of my truck so fast I barely saw his back as he vanished down the street.
He had his way of coping. I had mine.
I stalked through security at the front door, taking the stairs two at a time until I hit the third floor.
Antagonizing my brother was how I would cope. We would fight, he would put me in my place, and for a few short hours I would have a modicum of peace.
That plan quickly fell apart as I stepped into Levi’s open office door and found him gone.
Unbidden my feet carried me back down the hall. I came around her desk without realizing what I was doing.
Empty.
Abigail was gone too.
Of course, they were gone. It was past five. No one was here but me.
I paced around the reception area, channeling myself into my own office and tearing a path through the carpet in there.
How was I supposed to do it?
To find Mackenna and the other missing shifters, to manage neutral shifters that couldn’t meet their basic needs, backup Levi in everything he did? All while trying to do the investigations and client work that actually paid the bills.
There wasn’t enough time in the day for the amount of bullshit that kept piling on.
Protect the pack.
Worry over Mason.
Do a deep dive on Connor Ware.
Don’t forget about that massive client Levi wants a security system for.
Keep searching for answers about what the fuck happened to us on our last mission and find out who killed Dallas.
Figure out how to turn off the bond so I don’t have to wear a stupid fucking hair band just to cling to my single sane brain cell.
I was already too far down the spiral to stop myself. The tone in my ear struck like lightning, searing down the side of my body and rocketing me into rage like I hadn’t felt in weeks.
Drywall exploded around me as my arm swung out wildly. I was about to dislodge my fist from the wall and repeat the violent motion when a feminine gasp froze me in place.
“Gage are you—" Abigail stood in the doorway, clutching her work tablet against her chest. When she saw me poised to attack my office wall for a second time her voice gentled. “Are you okay?”
Her hair was carefully tied at the top of her head, like always. Her loose blouse, black skirt, and practical flat shoes were the same too. Did she wear the exact same outfit every day?
I hated it. I hated the way the black washed the color from her already pale skin, and the way the blouse disguised the shape of her body. I hated that she was so put together, so professional, so…so unaffected.
By me. By everything.
Even now, watching me dust drywall from between my fingers, her posture was calm. This was just business as usual to her, managing my temper tantrums like it was part of her job.
She didn’t react like I reacted. I prodded her constantly, looking for any chink in her emotional armor, and came back empty.
She would never understand what it was like. To be a shifter. To be destroyed the way I was destroyed.
Fate was wrong. Had to be.
Then suddenly she set the tablet on my desk, freeing her hands so she could use them to cup mine. It was the first time we touched since the day she started. I carefully avoided physical contact after that, not daring to risk it.
I almost claimed her the first time. What would I do after the prolonged torture of being near her but not having her?
Her fingers were cool against my skin. Abigail gently brushed off my knuckles, studying the hand for damage.
It was like her touch switched some kind of flip inside me. Immediately the tone softened, so mild I could scarcely hear it. My joints relaxed, my body feeling heavy, and I almost buckled at the knees.
Every ounce of tension my wolf and I were collectively carrying melted away.
How the fuck did she do that?
“It’s not good news about Mackenna, is it?” She asked, gaze fixated on my hand.
“She’s gone.”
“Can you find her?”
“I don’t know.”
Abigail released me, locking her fingers together and dropping her arms in front of her. Slowly her chin lifted, brown eyes roving across my face. “You will. We will.”
“I don’t think we will,” I admitted, throat raw.
I hadn’t found the others. Not even a trace. There was nothing to go on. Nowhere else to look.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to.” Abigail bit her lip, staring right at me. “I know we will.”
Her confidence rebounded down the frail start of our bond. It knitted around the holes in my chest, not closing them but catching the edges, keeping them from tearing further open.
How did she do it?
I was suddenly much closer to her, close enough to feel her breath hitch as I invaded her space. Her scent was natural, lacking the stink of fake fragrance and overpowering body products. It took control not to pump my lungs full of her, gulping down the air between us.
“Why did it have to be you?” The question hovered at the tip of my tongue.
Mates were so incredibly rare anymore. Most shifters could only dream of finding theirs.
But mates were also supposed to be a perfect match, two souls woven together from the start of time, destined to become whole. That spiritual bullshit felt especially false as I stood within biting distance of my mate’s lovely neck.
It was on full display, taunting me. One little nip and she would be mine. I could take her right here on my desk, make her drop that poised and professional face as I unraveled her one orgasm at a time. Those pink lips open in ecstasy, brown eyes hazy with desire.
I needed to dull the teeth on the gnawing anxiety that ate at me constantly. Abigail would take the edge off. Around her the numbness receded and instead of being replaced by pain, there was silence. Unfamiliar, peaceful silence.
She could be mine and my world would always be this still.
Then I would be bound to her forever, doomed to follow her through this life and into the next, and she would be free to come and go as she pleased. Free to leave, to seek lovers, to tear me apart one agonizing piece at a time.
I’d already stumbled onto the start of that path once. No human woman was going to take advantage of me a second time. No human would take my freedom from me again.
Abigail didn’t like me, anyway. I didn’t even know if her heart rate increased when we were in the same room because she found me attractive or petrifying.
With effort I stepped back, widening the distance between us until it was professional again.
I wanted to believe her confidence in my skills meant I could find Mackenna and the others. I wanted so badly for it to be a reflection of the victory just out of sight.
But she wasn’t confident in me . She was confident in happy endings, in the idea that every lost little puppy found their way home.
It was human and it was na?ve.
“Don’t say that shit to Amelia,” I warned. “It’s cruel to give her false hope.”
Abigail shuffled back a step, looking stricken. “I—of course not. I just—" Her feet shuffled again, eyes rounding as she searched the room for words.
“It’s past five. Go home, Abigail.”
That calm, professional expression slid off her cheeks, leaving a flush and a crinkled line between her eyebrows. She was angry with me. I could feel it through the bond like little thorns.
What right did she have to be angry about anything?
I got hints of her ire now and then. She didn’t hate me, but I irritated her. Made her uncomfortable when I didn’t bend over backwards to pretend I wasn’t a vicious animal disguised as a man.
That was her problem. I already had too many of my own and she was one of them.
“Fine. Have a good night, Gage.”
I ignored her politeness, glaring at her back as she retreated from my office. Being that rude to her was probably unnecessary. She clearly had no interest in me.
Rudeness was serving as a shield for me though and I had to keep it solid. Already my hand burned where she touched it, the skin heating in the most enjoyable way. I ached for more, to feel even the tiniest sliver of affection from her.
The office door clicked shut. Abigail leaving for the day.
My wolf let out a lonely howl.
The bond tugged like there was a strand of fishing line tied between us and I was the dumb chump that took the bait.
Of all the problems I had, that one suddenly seemed most urgent.
There had to be a way to remove the bond. I drew on Abigail’s confidence, steeling myself for what I was considering.
There was a way, and no matter the cost, I would find it and permanently cut this bond from my chest before it could grow.