Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

" L et's get this done, brawd." Patrin pulled on his jacket, jogging down the alley steps outside their apartment. The icy wind bit his face, making him grateful for his short beard and long hair. Poor Fell had nothing blocking the cold.

They circled the building, entered the square, and headed for the grocery store. The Scythe operative should be bagging up groceries at this hour.

Patrin slowed at the sight of Brett, Caleb, and Gretchen talking to Mateo, Alvaro, and the two cubs who were bullies.

"You heard my orders. Drive those scrawny cats away from the square." Brett pointed to two younglings playing on the five-foot-high snow piled in a corner of the square. "Show them this is our downtown."

"Sure, Alpha!" The two bullies ran to comply.

Gretchen looked after them, frowning. "Brett, I don't think?—"

Brett took a step toward Mateo and Alvaro. "What're you two waiting for. Get going."

Fuck . Patrin growled under his breath. "Fell, you take the bully babies." He stalked forward and slapped his hands down on Mateo's and Alvaro's shoulders. "Murtagh wanted to talk to you two. Have you done that?"

"Ah, no?" Alvaro said slowly.

Mateo caught on quicker. "Rabid ratshit. I forgot. We better do that now. Excuse us, please, Alpha."

So very politely, they bowed their heads slightly and sprinted toward the grocery store.

Clever cubs .

Being an Elder, Murtagh should be able to keep them safe, at least this time.

Hand pressed to her chest, Gretchen was watching Fell, who'd grabbed the bullies by their hoods and yanked them off the smaller feline cubs. With no effort at all, he tossed the wolves onto a different snowbank.

Yelling in anger, the half-buried cubs struggled to get out. The feline cubs scampered away.

Gretchen released an audible breath as the feline cubs ran off. "Good, they got away."

"What in the fuck?" Brett turned on her with a furious scowl. "Good? What's your problem?"

"You're criticizing your alpha?" Caleb snapped at her.

Patrin raised an eyebrow, equally surprised.

Her nose went up in the air. "No Daonain hurts cubs."

"Hey, I've seen you throw rocks at those two the Cosantir took in," Caleb said. "Back when they got into your B&B garbage cans."

"Just to scare them—never to hit them." Her voice sounded different. Lower, almost husky. "Never to hurt them."

Brett snorted. "I wasn't hurting them. Cubs are always fighting."

"You sicced bigger ones on littler ones. That's wrong." With a whirl of her blonde hair, Gretchen walked away.

Huh. Self-centered, vicious to anyone she didn't see as worthy of her attention, but the female apparently had limits.

A shame the alpha didn't.

He tilted his head at Brett. "What she said." Ignoring the alpha's growl, he continued on his way.

With an amused tilt to his lips, Fell veered off to station himself in the alley behind the grocery store.

Someone had enjoyed cooling off the bratty pups in the snow.

Entering the store, Patrin spotted Gregory, the Scythe agent, hard at work bagging groceries. Perfect.

Snagging a shopping cart, Patrin filled it quickly and wheeled it up to check-out.

"Evening, Murtagh." He smiled at the old shifter. After handing the recyclable grocery bags to the human Scythe operative, he started unloading the food onto the counter.

"Patrin, good to see you." Murtagh started scanning the prices.

From the corner of his eye, Patrin noted the Scythe's intent look. Ah, as we thought, you already have me targeted.

"And you, Murtagh. Oh fuck, did I lose the candles?" Patrin dug through the cart and pulled up the packet. "Here they are. Now I have to remember where we put our sleeping bags."

"Sleeping bags." Murtagh's appalled expression was amusing as hell. "Surely, you're not camping out in the snow."

"Hah, we're not that crazy." Patrin set the candles on the counter. "We plan to rough it in a house we might rent. It's out to the west on Whistlepunk Street."

"I don't remember seeing a rental sign there." Murtagh never slowed with scanning the groceries.

"The house is dark blue, number 503. We heard a rumor it'd be up for rent and talked to the owner." Actually, they'd arranged for a one-month rental period with Heather since the house was owned by the clan, and she handled the business stuff.

Patrin leaned against the counter, as if settling in to talk—and noticed Gregory was bagging the groceries real slow. "The house seems great, nicely isolated at the end of the street with forest on three sides. But Fell's a light sleeper, and the oddest shit keeps him up at night—like one house where some tree branches rubbed and squeaked."

"Ah, my Maeve's a bit like that." Murtagh nodded his understanding. "So camping?"

"Yeah, to check if the house will work for him before signing a lease. We asked the owner if we can spend tonight there, and she agreed."

"Sounds like a good plan." Murtagh smiled, his gaze full of sympathy. Of course, the Elder knew they were shifter-soldiers and why one of them might have trouble sleeping. "I hope it works well for you and Fell."

"Thanks." Since the bagger was moving so slowly, Patrin tore open a package of M&Ms before it was bagged. He popped a few in his mouth, enjoying the burst of chocolate.

Reminded him of being a cub and their mama buying candy to get Fell to stop chattering. Back when Fell was the one who talked the most.

He rubbed his chest, hurting for his brother. Not the time, wolf. Glancing at the total, he paid. "I need to get moving. Got stuff to do."

Seeing the groceries still unbagged, Murtagh narrowed his eyes at Gregory. His voice came out a growl. "Let's see some energy, lad. You're moving slower than a fat slug."

Gregory jumped. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." The young human quickly filled the last of the bags and handed them over.

"Thank you, Gregory." Patrin gave him a smile and headed out of the store. Out in the alley, Fell should be in position and ready for the spy.

Up to you, now, brawd.

After assessing the alley behind the grocery store, Fell found only one place where he'd be concealed yet within hearing distance. The well-angled roof was high enough he wouldn't be seen by anyone below. He used a garbage can as a stepping stool to climb up and onto the roof.

Lying flat on the snow-covered shingles, he started getting chilled all too fast.

It'd been about half an hour. Patrin should be done shopping by now. Hopefully, Scythe's weasel would report in quickly.

A couple more minutes passed before the back door to the grocery store creaked open and closed with a dull thud.

Fell stilled, barely breathing.

Footsteps in the snow made crunching sounds before stopping. There were rustling noises and a few loud inhalations.

Ah, right. He'd seen Gregory using one of those human pseudo-cigarettes. A vape-thing. Perhaps stalling and trying to get his courage up?

Good luck, lad. Fell had a moment of sympathy. As a cub, he'd been terrified of the Scythe leaders, especially the cold, merciless Colonel.

"Sir, yes, sir, it's Gregory. No, it's not my normal check-in. But there's a chance here to capture them without much exposure."

Unable to hear the other side of the conversation, Fell scowled.

"Yes, sir. They'll be spending tonight in an isolated house that's surrounded by forest."

Fell grinned as the human went on to explain Patrin's tale of how Fell had trouble sleeping. Really, it was a good story, especially since it wasn't a complete lie. They both had trouble with unfamiliar noises.

There was a pause after Gregory finished with the location of the house and time limit. Fell tensed. Who was Gregory's boss? Probably the Director if Wells was right and the Colonel had been killed.

Had he bought the story?

"Yes, sir. Do you want me to assist?" Gregory sounded half-eager, half-terrified. "I can? Yes! Thank you, sir."

More rustling sounds—probably putting away the phone—then the human heaved a big sigh. The back door creaked and thudded shut.

Waiting to be sure he was gone, Fell grinned.

Tonight will be a fine hunt, brawd.