18. Chapter Eighteen

We drove away from the safehouse, leaving the bodies and the black sedan. My sister was quiet in the back, probably trying to come to terms with how this entire situation was shaking out. I had been there before, with Carey. I had moments where I stopped and was in awe of the violence around me. I was focused on my goal, but I wondered how my life had turned in that direction. One day, I had been innocently living in Texas and running a tiny dive bar with a couple of pool tables. The next day, I was killing werewolves for trying to take someone from me. It took time to process through that, even though it was also a time of split decisions and deciding what convictions I held most dear.

Twenty minutes into the drive, she finally opened up.

"I shot him," she whispered into the silence that surrounded us.

"Yeah, you did. Thank you. You probably saved my life." I tried to sound strong. I was becoming used to the violence, becoming hard to it. This was the world, and I had a place in it. I could help her adjust to her new position.

"I killed him."

"He's the second person you killed," I pointed out, swallowing a lump in my throat. I didn't keep count of how many people I had killed since the violence came crashing into my life.

"He is, isn't he? I didn't think…"

"You would have to kill any more?" I turned back to her. "Gwen, if you come out of this and that's the only time you have to fire a gun, you've gotten out cleaner than so many others. You dipped your toe into fighting for something you believe in, and this world is going to make you fight to the end. Supernaturals aren't like humans."

"What do you mean?" She looked up, and I saw the hollowness of her expression.

"Violence is the exception for most humans," Heath said softly. "It's the rule for supernaturals."

"Let me explain what he's trying to say. From the human perspective, a mob, mafia, or gang? Those are bad, evil, and people who join them are bad, evil…or desperate." Sighing, I tried to resist the truth for a minute, but there was no denying it. "With supernaturals…that's the normal thing. Do you know why I made a splash with supernaturals? Because I tried to be normal for so long. I didn't use my connections, actively avoiding them. I didn't band with the werecat ruling family and take power as soon as I could. I did what very few do."

"And werecats are outliers in general," Heath added. "Werewolves are big gangs if you think about it. Rogues who live alone are the exception. It's expected to be in a pack and work for the pack's benefit. Vampires have nests, where they create communities that work together. Witches make covens where they combine their power to cast spells and do magics they can't do alone. Supernaturals are very community-oriented if you look at the big picture. And communities that have been together for hundreds, if not thousands of years, will kill for each other if threatened or just because it benefits them. We play with deadly forces, so even a small political move could turn violent."

"It would be corruption or an abuse of power for humans," I said, leaning my head on my seat to stare at her. "But in our world…"

"So, everyone bands together into good or bad organizations for…self-preservation, then if that's threatened, or the community is attacked, violence is always the answer."

"Yeah. I wish I could say I was better than that, sis, but I'm not. When my family went to the hospital in February, we were dealing with a band of werecats who wanted to overthrow Hasan and the rest of my family. They came into my territory, as the youngest and weakest, and wanted to use me as a bargaining chip. Things got out of control, but my family? When we got the chance, we killed every one of them. They threatened us, and we ended them."

"And you're okay with that?"

"What good is a family if you aren't willing to die for them? What good is loving them if you won't fight for them?" I stared into her hazel eyes. "You loved those female werewolves when they came in. I see it. You saw them, saw their pain, and how badly they were hurt. You aren't a werewolf. You're a woman, just like them. I'm certain, if I had seen them, I would have gone off the deep end, too, and killed a man."

"I'm not like the werewolves," she snapped. I should have been upset she couldn't see the similarities, but I was too glad the fire was coming back to her eyes.

"No, but the instinct is the same. The Russians feel threatened. Something is threatening to destroy the community they built that props them up. So, Gwen, think about that. You killed their leader. Now, I don't think they know it's murder. They would have shot on sight, right, Heath?"

"Yup." The ease in which he answered was impressive. "Which means they think you threaten them in a different way."

"Right," I agreed. "Probably exposing them with all the evidence needed to destroy their entire community, but we'll get to that later." I focused again on my sister. "Gwen, you will be very lucky if you only have to kill two people by the end of this. I promise you, they are willing to kill whoever is necessary. They weren't going to leave Heath alive after taking us. They just weren't going to shoot him before they secured me." I ran a hand over my face. "In the human world, exposing them and watching the world tear them apart socially is enough. In our world, if you want change, you need to be willing to fight for it. Not in a courtroom or in the media, but actually fight for it."

"You were always a fighter, Jacky," she said softly, looking away.

"Obviously, you are, too, because you pulled the trigger." I turned back to the front. "Now, let's figure out what to do next."

"Have you had any thoughts about telling your family what we're into?" Heath asked, jumping to that idea.

"Not really. I know Hasan won't be okay with this. Sadly, I think I can exploit my relation to Gwen, but he can't. He's not related to her. My humans aren't his humans. And he's Tribunal, which complicates everything."

"It could also help us out if we tell them the Russian werewolves are killing human civilians who work for the hospital."

"What do you want me to do? Call Hasan, who will then get Hisao?" I huffed. "Heath, if the Assassin rolls through the Russian pack to protect Gwen and me, werewolves around the world will be forced to retaliate Hasan's aggressive actions, even if they are justified. That's an act of war, regardless of the reason."

"Doesn't that go both ways?" My sister leaned forward. Life was back in her eyes as she put her head between the seats. "Aren't they committing an act of war against the werecats?"

"The powers that be might not agree," Heath replied, sighing. "But they also might. Jacky, we could use that. The Russian pack has murdered the hospital's staff and now tried to take you and your sister into custody."

"The hospital would need to report they believe the Russian werewolves are killing their employees," I pointed out.

"Call the Director again. Tell him he needs to go see Carlton's dead body."

I liked the idea. We didn't have Sarah's body and no way to prove it was the Russians who did it. It was a theory and most likely right, but Carlton was right where the hospital could find him. Left there, either as a sign or a mistake.

"What are the downsides?" I asked myself, considering the possible moves. I wasn't sure when I grew adept at it, but sticky political situations were becoming easier for me to navigate. With the Russians learning I was with Gwen and related, the idea of using Gwen to expose the pack's crimes was shot. They would just claim it was werecat propaganda to destroy a healthy pack. Heath would be called a traitor to his own kind and discounted because of his connection to me.

"You were always good at this," my sister commented, leaning back again.

"Good at what?" I looked back at her in confusion.

"People," she said without elaborating.

I didn't know what to say, so I went back to looking at my phone.

"If the hospital reports they believe the Russian werewolves killed their people, the Russians come under fire and have to admit why or try to deny it. It makes everything go bad for them—"

Heath's phone started going off, jarring me hard enough to stop talking. I had been thinking out loud. He answered while he drove, and I listened in.

"Heath, just wanted to give you the heads-up the Russians just took off from a private airport in their pack jet," a male said tensely. I didn't recognize the voice. "They came in and took off before anyone could stop them to ask what the hell was going on. They haven't reached out to anyone, but it looks like this situation is finally over. Whatever the hell is going on with them is going back to Russia, and we can all sleep a little easier."

"Did they?" Heath asked rhetorically. "Because it's not over."

"What do you mean?" The suspicion was thick. "What do you know? You're in Texas. Do you have another guy willing to spy for you who knows something the North American Werewolf Council doesn't? Heath, you're well respected and have allies everywhere, but you don't have the clout you had two years ago before that shit with the werecat."

"I don't know what's safe to tell you." Heath side-eyed me, and I shook my head.

"You aren't in Texas, are you? What the fuck are you doing?"

"Helping a friend." Heath hung up. "Jacky, call the Director. There's going to be fallout, but the Russians just left the country, and that's concerning."

I was already hitting call before he finished talking. The number I called this time redirected me straight to the Director.

"I didn't expect another phone call from you," Director Johansson said. "What's wrong?"

"We found a dead human at one of your safehouses. Gwen called him Carlton. He was part of the surgery team for Alpha Vasiliev—"

"I know," The Director said patiently. "That's what happens when people try to take the law into their own hands."

"Excuse me?" My heart thumped. "You're going to let them get away with it?"

"They called me shortly after you did. They are trying to stop this little rogue band of medical professionals from interfering in their pack. That's the pack's right. Once the team decided to kill Alpha Vasiliev, they lost my protection. If the death had been accidental, I would say something and protect them, but they asked for this trouble, and protecting them puts the hospital and me on a political side. I would have to condemn the Russian werewolf pack and let them expose the pack's secrets. I can't do that."

"Excuse me but—"

"Yes, excuse you. For decades, this hospital has been a haven for those who need care, no matter the circumstances. Your sister and others from my staff decided to breach the sacred trust the supernatural community put in us," the Director snapped with rage. It was the first emotion I had heard from him that felt honest. "And the Russians don't know they did that, but I do, and it's my hospital. I will not press charges against the Russians over any deaths for my fired employees. I feel the Russians are justified. On top of that, I buy the pack's silence by letting them do what they must, and they won't speak out about my remaining staff, and the hospital's neutrality is protected."

"You're a monster," I growled. A sick feeling spread through my gut.

"Funny since many can say the same thing about you and your family, and I'm not only talking about Doctor Duray," he said with an edge of cruelty. "I've treated people who have survived Hisao and people who have run afoul of Hasan. When your family came in, I put all of that aside, and we treated your family. Don't talk to me about monsters. We're all monsters. It just depends on what we want to be monstrous about."

He hung up on me.

The sick feeling in my gut was because I knew he was right. I had just been telling Gwen the same thing, yet my human mind still wanted to rage. But he was right.

We were all monsters when the situation called for it.

"What is Director Johansson?" Heath asked. "Maybe we can use something with his species to convince him to go our way with this."

"An Immortal," I answered. "Whatever that is."

"Ah, never mind," Heath muttered, shaking his head. "You'll never convince an Immortal to do something they don't want to."

"I didn't know the Director was supernatural," Gwen mumbled.

"He's just a human who can't or just won't die," Heath said with a sigh. "Origin unknown. They follow their own rules."

"Okay, so the hospital is a bust," I said, flipping my phone around in my hands as I bit the inside of my cheek. "I'll call Hasan. Maybe he can offer some sort of advice. I don't see another option, other than trying to negotiate with the Russians, and I don't…"

"They would make it clear they're going to keep doing everything they're doing," Heath said for me. "I don't think any of us would be okay with that."

"No, we won't," Gwen said from behind me. "They have to go down. Someone has to stop them from hurting more women."

"Even with the threat of death and only two allies left, she's not going to give up on this," I said softly.

"Sounds like someone I know," Heath commented slyly.

Narrowing my eyes on him, I hit Hasan's name in my contacts, then listened to it ring. I tried to do the mental math to figure out what time it was for him, but my brain didn't want to function. It took four rings for him to pick up. I stared out the window, wondering what he could have been doing that distracted him from his phone for that long.

"Jacqueline? What's wrong?"

I heard water in the background, a shower. The mental image came and went without scarring me for life. Hasan naked was something I had seen before. The water cut off quickly enough.

"How do you know something is wrong?" I countered. "Did I interrupt something?"

"You very rarely call me, otherwise," he parried. "And I was in the shower."

"Sorry about the timing. I'm getting better at calling more often, but…you're right. Something is wrong. Like really wrong. I don't even know where to begin wrong."

"Talk to me. We'll figure it out. Are you in danger?"

"I just killed some werewolves, so…probably."

A long silence greeted that. I looked at Heath, who shrugged. I wondered what he would do if he got this sort of call from Carey or Landon.

Hey, Dad. Just killed a man. Need some advice.

Funny enough, I couldn't imagine Landon making that phone call. He was capable. He would know exactly how to manage to hide a body or several. Carey, however, would definitely make the call.

"Hasan?" I said softly, feeling like a child for a moment. His silence was crushing, and I felt smaller by the moment.

"Where are you?" he asked. I heard something creak, but it wasn't the telltale sound of his office chair I recognized well.

"Minnesota, near Rochester."

"Who is with you?"

Shit, am I in trouble, or is he sending help?

"Heath…and my twin sister, Gwen."

"Oh, Jacky," he breathed. "What happened? Are they both okay? Is anyone hurt?"

"No one is hurt yet—"

Another phone started ringing in the car, and my sister started moving around, patting her pockets.

"It's a blocked number," she told us. Heath extended his hand, and she dropped her phone in it.

"Hasan, I'll be right back." Before he could say anything, I hung up and grabbed her phone from Heath, answering without skipping a beat.

"Jacqueline, daughter of Hasan, speaking," I greeted stiffly.

"I was expecting Doctor Duray, considering this is her phone number," a deep male voice said with a slight Russian accent. It was an attractive voice that probably made a woman's toes curl. I took a moment to be grateful I was often exposed to those sorts of men.

"She's not the one you get to negotiate with. Please introduce yourself." I didn't like that he didn't immediately give me his name. Heath kept driving back toward our little hideaway, but now his foot hit the gas as if he felt some urgency to get us into a safe place again.

"No. It won't be necessary for you to know my name yet," the werewolf said. "Tell me, is Doctor Duray related to you? You look remarkably similar."

"We're twins." I wished people would stop asking for that confirmation. I really did. It grew frustrating that every supernatural wanted to know. Were doppelgangers real, and they wanted to make sure she wasn't mine or vice versa? I had no idea, but the repetition was getting annoying.

"Ah. So, you're protected by Law. I was afraid of that, but it's also a good thing. See, you and your sister probably have something I want. Now, I heard you got into a fight with Alexei—"

"I didn't fight him. I killed him. There's a difference," I informed the werewolf. "He didn't get the chance to put up much of a fight."

"Of course. Very typical for your family. The werecat one, at least."

Why are you making that distinction?

"He tried to take my sister and me into custody. I wasn't going to allow that. He should have known better."

"He should have. He's taken recent events hard, and we weren't expecting you. I don't think it would surprise you to learn we had no idea of your relation to Doctor Duray."

"Let's go back to that thing you want," I said, not wanting to get tangled up in weird small talk. "We have several USBs. Am I going to find something on them you don't want the world to see?"

"You will. Sarah Gerber was prolific in her efforts to document things she felt were wrong. After Alpha Vasiliev died, she came to one of my packmates and offered a deal. She would keep the videos private or even destroy them if we made changes after the death of Alpha Vasiliev. She made a mistake, thinking she could dictate the terms." There was a soft chuckle on the other end. "She told us everything she could before the end, but we still couldn't find the evidence she had collected from our werewolves who were patients. Now, we can't let those get into the hands of the Tribunal."

"They don't have to," I agreed. "But you need to do something for me."

"Jacqueline, daughter of Hasan. No, Jacky Leon. Jacky, do not make the mistake of thinking you can dictate the terms. Miss Gerber told us Doctor Duray would be trying to get the videos, and we waited. Alexei didn't know we had a backup plan. He was expendable, and I didn't want him to waste my hand."

"Then what are your terms?" I asked, not liking the deep darkness opening up in me, an abyss I would fall into. This werewolf was leading me into something.

"You love your family, obviously, since you are willing to go to such lengths to protect your sister. It's honorable, and you should do whatever you can to protect them. Any good person would do anything to protect their family. Elderly parents need strong children. Children need strong parents. Lovers need to be shielded from pain. Families are so important."

"You can't touch Hasan and…" I trailed off, my chest tightening.

"We didn't know they were also your family when we took them," he explained softly. Even soft, I heard the deadly edge, like he was a sharp sword ready to cut me in half. "So, here's the deal I am willing to make. You will give me the evidence Miss Gerber collected against my pack. You and your sister will be magically sworn to secrecy, along with Alpha Everson. Then we will give you your family back."

"And if we don't? Will you kill them?" I swallowed.

Heath sent me a hard glance and took a sharp intake of air. He was listening in. I looked back at Gwen, keeping the phone to my ear. She was the only person in the car who couldn't hear this werewolf, but she listened to me with a concentrated look on her face.

"No. We'll keep them indefinitely. As long as you have the evidence and it stays private, we'll keep your family. If you release it, then they all die. Then we'll come after you and your sister."

"Mutually assured destruction," I whispered.

"Yes. You should hurry, though. It might seem like a long time away, but…her daughter could make a great werewolf one day. Wouldn't that be interesting? We could test the theory that genetics really do play a part in humans surviving the Change. You know, I've heard of children surviving very young. Maybe we could put that to the test."

My blood ran cold. My mind flicked over every possibility. We hand over everything, and I spend an eternity hating myself for only saving my own and leaving countless women to die. It wouldn't get rid of the Russian pack, knowing I'm their enemy, either. I could hold on to the evidence and stay in a cold war against this pack for years, risking their lives every day. I could release the evidence and know my family would be dead long before I could get to Russia to help them. Because he was definitely taking them to Russia. Holding hostages of this magnitude wasn't possible for werewolves outside their territory. It was too bold and too dangerous.

But sneaking them onto a plane and taking them out of the country was fucking easy.

Or I can save my family.

Option four. Don't play by the rules laid out by the Alpha and throw caution to the wind. Go to Russia and take my family back, by any means necessary, then send every one of the werewolves involved straight to hell.

"I don't know your name, werewolf." I tried to be cool as rage threatened to consume me. Not fear, though it was the smart choice. "How can I go into a bargain with someone I don't know?"

"Sergey. I was the second of the Russian werewolf pack. I am now the Alpha by unanimous decision of the inner circle. Well, not quite unanimous. There was one against me, but he's dead now. See? Expendable."

Alexei. He voted against Sergey becoming Alpha and was probably desperate. He knew he needed to please the new guy or lose his position, probably by means of brutal death by the rest of the inner circle. These Russians don't play around.

"I'll call you back after I've discussed it with my sister and Alpha Everson. Please text me a number I can reach."

"Good idea. You have seventy-two hours to make a decision. During that time, I won't touch your family. After that, I make no promises," he said with a glee that made me angrier. He thought he was winning. "Have a good day. I look forward to hearing from you."

When he hung up, I kept the phone to my ear, listening to my heartbeat, listening to Heath's. To Gwen's. The sound of our breathing became the loudest sound in the car.

"What's wrong?" Gwen asked, her voice a deafening roar.

"They have…" Shit. I didn't ask who. I should have asked who.

I tried to think about the conversation, replaying it. He talked by leaving clues. He had proven that early, telling me how Sarah was killed, trying to dictate the conversation. He left me clues—elderly parents, children, lovers.

"Jacky, she needs to know," Heath murmured. I knew he wouldn't say it. He would want me to deliver this blow.

"They have our parents…they have your children and Daniel. They have our family," I said. "If we release the videos of Devora and other werewolves Sarah interviewed, they will kill them." Except your daughter, who they'll attempt to Change, which might happen anyway. "For as long as we keep the videos to ourselves, they will hold our family hostage. In exchange for their freedom, we have to hand over everything Sarah collected and be sworn to secrecy, all three of us. We need to protect the pack in exchange for protecting our family."

"How? When?" Gwen yelled.

"They took them before we even saw Alexei. A backup plan. Alexei was told to grab you and encountered Heath and me. He was on the way out, anyway. If he failed, and he did, then Sergey was—"

"Fucking Sergey. He's lost his mind," Heath muttered, shaking his head. "He can't expect this to go well."

"I think he believes we'll take the deal. He's got an almost iron-tight plan," I countered. "It's our fucking family, and you heard…" I stopped, shaking my head as well, unable to believe the threat Sergey had made against my niece's life. I'd never met her, but my heart was in it—a little girl, Changed. The pain would be horrendous. She would be broken.

My eyesight wavered as my body tried to Change. I was barely holding on to a thread of control. I wanted to taste blood. I wanted to tear Sergey apart, limb by limb.

"Heard what?" Gwen pressed.

"There are some things you don't need to know," Heath said darkly, his anger undisguised. His scent was completely useless, but his face and voice told me everything. "Jacky, they've backed us into a corner."

"They're taking our family to Russia for safekeeping," I explained for my sister, flipping my phone around in my hand to keep my hands busy. "They made a mistake."

"What mistake?" Her voice sounded small and scared.

"They didn't consider option four." I bared my teeth as I stared at the road ahead of me. "Heath, take us to the closest airport. We're going to Russia."

He turned the car around in the middle of the road.