Chapter 32
"DID THAT ROGUE WAKE UP?"
The forkful of spaghetti drenched in tomato and mushroom sauce pauses midway to his mouth. Dad peers at me from across the dining table once more looking at me as if he doesn't know whether to be worried or proud.
It's only the two of us. Alpha Isaiah had come straight here from work and had returned home to freshen up and grab dinner before the three of us head to the holding cells where the incarcerated rogues who targeted Jessica await the decision on their fate.
It isn't the wisest choice to have them in custody on our territory with Jessica residing here still, but there's no chance they'll get out of holding.
Not with Steven Daniels at the helm of our security. He is ruthless when it comes to prisoners, particularly rogues who threaten the members of his pack.
All of this prompted me to ask about the rogue from the incident at the Conner's residence.
Dad shakes his head. "We'll be lucky if he talks when he wakes. You did a number on him, buddy."
I can't help but scoff at the absurdity. "Rogue or not, he's a Were. Jace and his parents are human. I don't think the sentence will be light if this reaches the Council."
"You'd be willing to go that far." It's not a question, but an observation – an acknowledgement – of my loyalty to Jace and the mate bond.
Now, Dad looks proud because while he hardly speaks of Mom, he's always made sure that I understand the responsibility the mate bond requires – including an unshakeable sense of loyalty.
"I'm glad to see you taking the laws of the county so seriously. "
"I'm the next gamma. It's all in the job."
He laughs, stuffing the forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.
He chews and swallows, chasing it with cold water.
"Be that as it may, we still need him. Chad's investigation confirmed it was no ordinary break-in.
Nothing was stolen which confirms – at least part of your theory – that Jace and his parents were targeted for another reason.
We're hoping to find out what when he wakes up. "
"Whenever he does, I want to be there for the interrogation. Somehow, he knew about what Jace is to me. I want to know how and what his goal was. What about the rogues who trespassed into Lativa? Any luck on that end?"
We're going there tonight but they've been in custody since Monday night and Dad's visited those cells every day since. Maybe one of them has said something.
A chilling smile hooks the corners of his mouth. If I weren't familiar with how he does his job, I might feel real fear because that smile is nothing close to kind. What he says next further solidifies the fact that my father really, really enjoys his job as gamma.
"It's been less than a week. They're still breaking."
It's a method of torture he likes to employ.
Leave the perpetrator rotting in a cell for days and nights, with standard issue clothing that provides little warmth, the intervals between food and water and starvation vary depending on how quickly he needs them to break.
It's all about pressure, pushing the right buttons, making them desperate enough that they would abandon whatever strings along their loyalty to what landed them in trouble.
They would beg for food, water, or a bit of comfort against coldness. The only way to get it or possibly end their penance, is a negotiation. Information for freedom or comfort. If they lie or try to talk their way out of giving up useful information, the torture tools come out.
Sadistic, methodical. I'm learning from the best.
Though, such cruelty comes under two conditions: the first being multiple failed attempts to reach a middle ground, and the second would depend on the severity of the offense committed.
In this case, those rogues we apprehended from Lativa committed an unforgiveable offense.
"They haven't complained or asked for a trade, yet?"
Dad shakes his head. "It's only been two days and going into three nights."
Without food, in the coldest section of the holding area while surviving on nothing but a cup of water each day.
All of this with a dose of wolfsbane in their system weakening their immunity against other substances that are mixed into the brew like belladonna or jimsonweed.
Always in small, manageable doses – approved by the Council for interrogation purposes.
It induces vomiting or diarrhea, increases vulnerability, and in extreme cases, hallucinations.
Before one week is over, they usually crack.
Wolfsbane by itself is dangerous to Weres, humans, and animals. It affects us differently altogether, but the effects depend on the species of wolfsbane mix and in what quantities. Most are lethal and exposure to even the smallest doses can have irreversible effects including death.
Slow, agonizing. Final.
Our insides begin to shut down. Different wolfsbane species and compounds attack the host from various angles. Vascular, muscular, neuronic, and in severe cases, our bones – like a fatal virus.
For medical procedures, a widely common and Council-approved brew is administered to dampen our fast healing to treat injuries or infections. It weakens us, temporarily stealing our natural Were abilities – to shift, strength, speed – rendering us practically human.
It's also why there's recently been an uptick in law enforcement throughout the region, in Schrattner's County, Murdoc Province, and Berkel Country, targeting wolfsbane cartels.
The most recent campaign happened in Starlight City over one year ago, led by the city's former Chief of Police – Stanley Vander Wal. It's a nasty fight because now, Stanley Vander Wal is dead. Two months after the campaign launched.
"Isaiah's paranoid about the attack and letting Jessi within a five-mile radius of Lativa," he continues, casting a worried glance in my direction that he's quick to hide.
"You'll be in that part of town in two weeks for your community service.
I'm also worried that my suspicions are right," he explains, running a hand over his face.
He leans back and closes his eyes, his jaw clenched, suddenly looking ten years older.
The wrinkles are visible on his forehead, deep lines around his nose and mouth.
There are dark circles beneath his eyes.
He's been working harder than usual trying to crack those rogues and find out who's really behind that attack.
"We know it was premeditated." He puts the fork down and rubs a hand over his face, weary but determined, nonetheless. "And we know how they got in. We need to find out why."
"Has Ezra said anything about it?"
Dad crosses his arms over his chest and leans back. "Not that I'm aware. But from what I've been told, Ezra's hardly left Jessica's side. He's even more paranoid about it."
That can't be helped. Weres are like that when it comes to their mates – especially males. I nearly went mad when my friends told me Jace was missing.
As we resume eating in a comfortable but heavy silence, what we're faced with weighing on our minds, my earlier question comes back.
Chills sweep over my skin, a sour feeling churning my stomach at a possibility I hadn't thought to consider.
It leaves me feeling sick because since the incident happened, the coincidence of those attacks occurring within hours of each other has rubbed me the wrong way.
It's part of the reason I tossed and turned restlessly the first night Jace and his parents stayed in Marcana. Kept awake by Jace's roiling emotions, sleep continued to evade me when I replayed the break in over and over.
Something isn't right. Considering I've never seen that man before, and no one else has recognized him, it can't mean anything good if a total stranger suddenly sets his sights on my mate and his family.
So, I'm right. Why else would you be so vicious?
Fucking hell. How could that rogue know?
Is it even possible?
"Dad?"
He must've heard the worry in my voice, seen the tension coiling tight around me. He stops eating and looks across the table, a frown immediately furrowing his brows, wrinkling his forehead.
"Buddy? What's with that face?"
"It might be nothing but..." The words die on my tongue.
I don't want to say them because it feels like doing so would make the threat realer.
It would ram home the severity of lurking danger, cement the thought that maybe Jace is right to push me away even if his reasons are wholly different from mine.
"Sky," Dad calls, softer this time.
Wiping a hand over my face, I take a deep breath hoping that the break in was random and that rogue only said those things to fuck with my head.
"Do you think there's a connection between both incidents?
They were isolated events, but the timing doesn't sit right with me.
Those rogues trespassed into Lativa. They knew where we would be.
Knew Jessi would be with us. She was their target.
She's Ezra's mate, but she's also Alpha Isaiah's daughter.
And then the next day, there's a break in at the Conner's.
I keep replaying what that guy said and maybe I'm over thinking, but I don't think it was a coincidence. "
He's silent for a long while, the beats of silence filled with the near inaudible ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall, the scrape of Dad's metal fork on the ceramic plate as he twirls spaghetti around it.
"It crossed my mind," he admits finally.
"There isn't enough evidence to solidify a connection between the rogues we incarcerated and the one from the break in, but I have a hunch too that they're connected.
" He frowns then, a subtle tightening of his brows, the lines around his mouth deepening. He scratches the stubble on his cheek.
"There's something else, isn't there?"
"It might be nothing –"
"Dad, what is it? If Jace and his parents are really in serious danger, I should know. I can do something – anything to protect them."
"It probably is nothing," he says again. Tossing my fork down, it clatters against the ceramic plate and goes toppling off the plate's rim onto the wooden table.
"Come on, Dad. Don't keep things from me. I can handle it so stop treating me like a kid."
He runs a hand through his hair. "When they took Jace's statement, he told the police something. Or at least, he started to."
"What?" My mind is racing now, drumming up all kinds of terrible things.
Between the break in from Tuesday night till now, he doesn't seem horribly shaken up.
Maybe he's coping with it better than expected or maybe whatever's had him rattled since Monday is worse than the break in, but why wouldn't Jace tell me?
In fact, why would he keep it to himself and not tell the police?
"He said that that man said something to him just before he passed out. He said he couldn't remember."
"You think he's telling the truth?"
Dad shakes his head. "I don't. The officer who took his statement said that Jace looked a little spooked when he mentioned it.
" The fork scrapes against his plate as he scoops us tomato and mushroom sauce, a chunk of meatball and a few strings of spaghetti.
"Maybe he was shaken up by the break in but like you, I don't think it was an isolated incident. "
A heavy silence passes between us. It's deafening and suffocating, chills once more sweeping over my skin. The night of the attack at Lativa rushes back and I remember how we felt them, with Ezra in a foul mood because of his father.
"Do you think Jessop has something to do with it?"
Dad shrugs. "It's hard to say. He's been your typical law-abiding citizen since he got out."
"Doesn't mean he isn't stirring up trouble in the background."
"It's possible," he replies. "At least, that's what my hunch tells me."
My grip tightens around my fork. "You've never been wrong before."