Chapter 47
OTHERS HAVE JOINED THE SEARCH. They spread across Marcana in pairs, searching high and low for any more trespassers.
When I rejoin my friends, Dale is slumped against a tree, the pack doctor – Kevin Turley – tending to the wound on his shoulder.
Laken is unharmed, a picture of calm though I know he must be reeling with worry for his mate.
Carter and Ash are nowhere in sight but they've joined the search. Ash sped off in his wolf form, a blur of white dashing through the trees with Carter at his side.
By now, Alpha and my father have joined us. The alpha monitors the treatment to Dale's shoulder. My father is by his side, rummaging through the black pouch belt Laken snagged off the assassin.
I study him. His eyebrows are bunched tight; his mouth pressed into a firm line.
On top of the fact that there was a trespasser here tonight, whatever is inside that bag is also a cause for concern.
That much is evident when he steps closer to Alpha and shows him what is inside.
Now, they both wear tired, concerned frowns.
Dad finally takes notice of me, homing in on the slashes across my chest and blood that has saturated the rips in my jersey.
I point to it. "It's not deep. They'll heal quick."
"Still," he says, zipping the pouch. "Get it disinfected. I won't trust it one bit." There's an edge to his command. Whatever is inside that pouch has unsettled him. The alpha too, going by the careful glance he does at Dale's wounded shoulder, and my slashed-up chest.
"Dr. Turley," Alpha commands, "when you're finished with Dale's injury, see to Sky's."
The doctor nods, finishing with patching Dale up. He's had to get stitches, the wound sealed up and disinfected. Dale gets to his feet with Laken's help, rotating his shoulder and testing out the stitches.
"Try not to tear them," Dr. Turley warns. "Come by the clinic Tuesday morning to have them removed."
"What about the interrogation?" I ask, flitting my attention back to our superiors. "Is that still happening?"
Dr. Turley gestures for me to sit against the tree as well. Tugging off my ruined jersey, I slide to a plop and lean against the tree, expelling a heavy breath. I could do with a hot shower and a long nap.
Just as Dad is about to answer my questions, a yawn rips out of me. My eyes tear up, and the yawn is so intense that blood gushes to my head and I see stars for a moment. Blinking them away, I barely register the sting of disinfectant against my wounds.
"It'll happen. Chad is arranging for the remaining rogues to be transferred into witness protection as soon as it's over." His grip tightens on the pouch.
"What's inside that thing?"
"Aconite," Alpha replies.
The wind picks up. Silence befalls us. The only sounds that can be heard are from Dr. Turley as he works on cleaning my cuts, which really aren't deep enough to need stitches and should be nicely healed up by the end of tomorrow.
Over that, the distant chatter of Weres on patrol and their hurried footfalls and communications as they continue with the search.
"And cyanide," he adds on.
I raise an eyebrow. "Wouldn't cyanide be just as effective without aconite?"
Dad shakes his head as he unzips the pouch again, pulling from it, a syringe first. He shows it to us and puts it back and pulls out a packet of mixed pills. Some are yellow, the others a strange shade of purple.
The purple pills are aconite – three different species of wolfsbane plants ground and refined into a pill. The yellow ones are cyanide.
"It wouldn't work as quickly." He puts it back, and for a moment, holds up the last item from inside the bag. A small glass vial of grayish liquid. If I have to guess, it's liquid cyanide and aconite brewed together for the syringe.
It doesn't matter. They're dead anyway.
The assassin's words come back to me. Inside that bag are two forms of the poison. This was an assassination attempt to silence the rogues in our custody.
"You're having those rogues transferred tonight?"
Dad nods. "That's the plan. Why? Did something happen?"
"It's something she said. This might have been the first attempt, but there might be another. Whatever the plans are for witness protection, it better be air-tight and fool proof."
"She?" Dad reiterates. When I nod, he glances to Alpha and back at me. Dr. Turley has finished cleaning my cuts. "What did she look like?"
I shrug. "She wasn't very tall. Dark hair. Dark eyes. She was fast. Pretty skilled." I recall the scar on the side of her neck. "There was something else. A brand on her neck. It looked like an inverted hook."
Dad scoffs. "You mean a 'J'."
I nod. "Kind of. What does it mean?"
"It's a mark of solidarity," Alpha explains. "To Jessop."
THE INCARCERATION COMPOUND CRAWLS WITH guards. Since news of the trespasser circulated within the hour, security in and around the facility has been doubled and tripled. The heads aren't leaving anything to chance even as searches continue for more intruders.
So far, there's been no indication that there were more.
"What do you mean a mark of solidarity?"
I ask as we walk through the main gates of the compound.
Alpha nods to the guards who greet him. Dale walks one step behind him, my father and I taking up the rear.
We make a beeline for the building housing the interrogation rooms and holding cells where the remaining two rogues are in custody alongside Lianna.
"I, too, would like to know," Dale pipes up. "I've heard of people getting tattoos for those reasons but brands?" Dale shakes his head. "It's almost cultish."
Alpha chuckles. "It's definitely no stretch in that logic. Back when Jessop was the alpha of Lativa, there were those who swore their allegiance out of fear and for survival. That was most of the pack. But there were a few who truly believed his way of rule was the only way.
To prove their absolute loyalty, they were branded by a piece of iron coated in aconite."
A shudder slithers up my spine. I can't imagine disfiguring myself in a show of loyalty.
"So, that woman was one of them?"
Next to me, my father nods. "She is. A ruthless bitch, that one. And a little more."
I raise an eyebrow. Dale tilts his head. At the same time, we ask, "A little more?"
"She's Jessop's mistress," Alpha supplies. "And rumor has it, the one who killed Ezra's mother."
"Ew." Dale and I express at the same time.
Inside the reception area of the interrogation unit, I'm immediately put into a foul mood because the first person I see is George, filling out paperwork for his daughter's release. It hasn't been a full week so naturally, Lianna should still be sitting inside one of those cold, dark cells.
The only reason incarceration of a pack mate would be overturned is in cases such as this where there is a possibility that the inmate's life would be in danger too.
Lianna is still a member of this pack. It would do us no good if she's hurt or killed should more of Jessop's people come through and succeed where that woman failed.
Lianna is seated on the couch jammed against the wall at the side of the room. Her mother sits with her, soothingly rubbing her arms. Lianna catches my eye and quickly averts her gaze.
As we move along, I feel George's stare burning into me. I can't help but look in his direction.
"Want to take your daughter's place, George?"
George's mouth twists into a snarl. He mutters under his breath, "Fucking little prick."
I shake my head, the corner of my mouth upturning in a devious grin. He is going to hate having me as gamma of this pack. His words don't go unnoticed even as I take them into stride. It's my father who responds.
"Watch it, George. The only reason I'm not tossing you in a cell for that remark is because of the potential danger. Test me again, I'll forget about it."
"Enough," Alpha orders. "We have exactly one hour to get our information before those rogues are relocated."
We head down the corridor and through the doors leading to the platform. We turn left, down the stairway to the level below, walking into the adjoining corridor. The quietness is heavier in this part of the sublevel because of the rock walls that make up the main infrastructure. It's cooler too.
My father picks up pace, taking the lead to the interrogation cells. The main gate is left open, LED white lights casting its glow across the hallway.
Before the interrogation rooms were built, these cells were used for interrogations and in extreme cases – torture. I'm not sure why they're questioning the rogue here when he's already agreed to a deal – information in exchange for witness protection.
They probably don't want him to make a run for it since he'll be escorted up the steps and to the platform to get to the interrogation rooms.
Farther down the corridor, Beta Chad and Commander Rick are posted outside one of the cells. They're in deep conversation but pause at our arrival. They meet us halfway.
"He knew they would try to kill him," Beta Chad says. "That's why he asked for witness protection." He gestures to the black pouch in Dad's grip. "Is that what I think it is?"
Dad nods and hands it over. We watch as Beta Chad unzips the small bag and fishes through its contents. He plucks out the small packet of purple and yellow pills.
"Aconite and cyanide. Quick. Quiet. Efficient." Beta Chad zips it close and tosses the bag back to my father. "Submit that to evidence. I'll handle transport and relocation once we talk to him."
"What about Jessop?" I ask.
"What about him? Was he the one who trespassed?" Beta Chad queries and I shake my head. I give him the rundown of what happened and what I discovered – the brand mark on her neck. I see it the moment it all clicks into place, and he understands why I brought Jessop up.
He sighs wearily. "I wish it were that simple. Nadia is loyal to Jessop. Maybe the most loyal of his followers but if Jessop himself hasn't done anything, the Council can't arrest him."