Chapter 6 - Rand

The next morning, Thea came down the stairs, groggy, her hair a mess. It was so like the old days, it was hard not to feel like we were back at that cramped house we used to live in.

"Good sleep?" I asked.

She shrugged. "As good as I ever get."

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," she said. She hesitated, then added perhaps a bit begrudgingly, "Thanks for letting me stay here."

"Anytime," I said. "I'm just glad you're alright."

Something flickered in her eyes, and her jaw twitched, an old sign of growing irritation. Again, something so familiar to me, it was like nothing had ever changed.

"The Silver Wolves have a meeting later today," I said. "I was hoping you and I could go over a bit of information before then. That way, I'll have something to go on when I talk to the others. Do you think you're up for that?"

She nodded. "But did you have to ask first thing in the morning?" she groaned.

I cracked a grin. "Still not a morning person, I see."

"Some things are never going to change," she fired back. "Let me at least get a cup of coffee in me before you start grilling me, all right?"

I gestured toward the full carafe. "Help yourself."

Once she was on her second cup of coffee and had scarfed down her breakfast, I started asking her a few questions, trying to stay gentle while also getting as much information as possible. I knew these types of conversations weren't always easy. She answered them to the best of her ability, but I was beginning to doubt how useful her information would be.

She seemed to recognize this as well, because as we wrapped up, she said, "Sorry. I know I'm not being super helpful."

I shrugged. "Any information is going to help," I said. "We'll at least have a decent idea of where you might have been held." I looked at the clock. "I should probably get going soon. Are you going to be okay here on your own for a couple hours?"

She glanced outside, something like longing on her face as she looked out at the wind blowing through the trees.

"Honestly, I'd like to go out on a run," she said. "After everything that's happened, I want to stretch my legs and clear my brain. Runs tend to be the best solution for that."

I frowned, glancing at her up and down, taking note of all the injuries still on her body. I knew that when she meant "run," she meant run as a wolf, and I didn't like that idea for a myriad of reasons.

"Are you sure that's a great idea?" I asked. "You're still pretty banged up."

She glanced down, scowling at her arm. "It feels better," she protested. "And if it gets bad, I can always shift back and run home."

I let out an annoyed huff. "In that case, you don't think it's a bit risky, considering some dangerous people are after you?"

"We don't know that," she pointed out. "I doubt they even know I'm here."

I exhaled, trying not to pinch the bridge of my nose. "Stubborn to the last, I see," I muttered.

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "You're one to talk. You have a harder head than a marble statue."

"Come on," I teased. "Out of the two of us, we both know you're the more stubborn."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curled into a smirk as her eyes sparked with something between amusement and annoyance.

"Are you sure about that?" she said. "Because I still remember how we got together."

I cracked a grin. "So do I. If I remember correctly, you kept saying no when I asked you out. Seems pretty stubborn to me."

The eyebrow stayed raised, the smirk growing wider. "You're the one who kept asking," she said. "And if I remember correctly, you're the one who got their wish."

There might have been a slightly bitter edge to her voice, but I couldn't tell for certain. Something about it struck me as off. I pushed it to the side. It had been a while. I probably just wasn't reading her as well as I used to. But the quip had brought back memories.

I used to be a drifter and had wandered into a random shifter town one day. I needed money, so I picked up a few odd jobs here and there. Back then, I'd been sort of wandering aimlessly. I hadn't figured out exactly what I wanted to do or anything like that, so I worked in a shop for a bit. Next to the shop was a small restaurant where a certain very attractive blonde worked, and she caught my eye the first time I saw her.

I ended up asking to be sat in her section and started chatting her up. I was surprised at the easy banter that started between us. It felt more natural than it had with any other woman. I realized then and there that I couldn't let her get away.

So I went back, again and again. Finally, I ended up asking her out.

Astrid said no. When I asked why, she said she had too much going on. That I seemed nice, but dating wasn't in the cards.

So I kept coming back, and we started talking more. I asked her out again. She said no.

When I asked for the third time, she asked if I was ever going to stop. When I told her probably not, she finally agreed to go on a date, and things had developed from there.

Back in the present, I said, "In that case, you should know I'm going to keep saying you should stay put."

She opened her mouth to argue, but I shook my head.

"If you keep arguing, I'll tie you up until you've healed more," I said. "End of story."

She scowled again and grumbled, "You're impossible. You know that, right?"

I grinned. "I know."

***

"She told me they kept her in a smallish room for most of the time," I said. "And none of the questions she remembers them asking her are of any use. They don't give away any information we didn't already know."

The entirety of the Silver Wolves listened to my report, leaning in, eyes locked on me, focusing intently. I could see the gears turning in every expression, each of them trying to figure out the best strategy and where to go from here. Old habits really did die hard. At heart, we would always be spec ops. Situations like this just proved it beyond a doubt.

"She was also pretty banged up for a lot of it, based on her story," Jameson said. "So there might be parts she doesn't remember quite right."

"Yeah," I said, trying not to clench my teeth. Astrid had been slowly healing since arriving, but just the memory of those injuries and knowing what she'd gone through was enough to drive me and my wolf into a fury. The Gray Wolf deserved to be torn limb from limb because of what he had done to her. I just hoped I was the one who got to do it.

"So, there's really nothing we can use?" Mark asked. "Don't take this the wrong way, but she's kind of a terrible witness."

"We know the Gray Wolf knows about us and is willing to go after us," I pointed out. "That's something."

"Whatever he's planning, it definitely seems like he considers us a threat," Mark said. "Otherwise, I can't imagine he would go to the trouble to kidnap a woman you haven't spoken to in years."

"Maybe she was the easiest target," I said. "Most everyone else that the Silver Wolves care about are here in town. If they somehow found a connection between me and her, they might have gone for it because there were no other options."

"Do you think it was for leverage or because they thought she might know something?" Mark asked.

"Based on Astrid's comments, it seems more like it might have been for leverage. Either as a trap or in case we started looking into him too much."

"In which case, his plan massively backfired," Mark pointed out.

Tannen rubbed his chin, and I frowned at him. "That's your ‘I have a thought and you're not going to like it' face," I told him.

"Yup," Tannen said. "Dead on."

I exhaled. "Go on."

"Don't you think it's a little coincidental?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"It's just a bit strange," he said, looking around the group. "I can't be the only one thinking it. The Gray Wolf's guys find out we're looking into them, kidnap Astrid in hopes it'll get to Rand—even though she and him haven't spoken in years—and she manages to escape and just so happens to come to Brixton of all places?"

I froze. Then my eyes narrowed as my wolf bristled.

"You're my best friend," I said. "So please tell me you're not implying what I think you're implying. Because it's sounding a lot like you think she's in cahoots with the Gray Wolf and this whole thing is an elaborate plot."

Tannen held up his hands. "Not exactly. But that doesn't mean I don't think they're using her without her realizing."

"Using her how?" Jameson asked.

"As a way to mess with us? Maybe they fed her false information they expected her to relay? I don't know. I just think that we need to consider this is somehow a trap."

I frowned at him again. "Yup. I still don't like it."

He shrugged. "It's just a theory."

"And what about the other option?" Oliver asked. "The one where she is in league with the Gray Wolf."

I snarled at him, stalking forward. Mark stepped in front of me, holding his hand out. "Easy there, buddy," he said.

"We have to consider all options," Jameson pointed out.

"You don't know her like I do," I snarled.

"You don't know her anymore," Mark pointed out.

"So what, we're just going to treat her like a criminal because we don't know the whole story?" I asked.

"No one's saying anything like that," Jameson said placatingly. "We don't have any evidence for this. Oliver's just throwing out another possibility."

"It's a fucking stupid one," I barked, not bothering to hide my rage.

I glared at the three of them, and they all stared back, not breaking eye contact. Tension crackled in the air, and all I could think about in that moment was how badly I wanted to take a swipe at them.

"For the record," Klyte cut in, slicing through the tension, "her injuries line up with her story. She was malnourished and pretty beat up, and there's no way she could have given herself some of those wounds. So if she's lying, then she went to a lot of literal pain and effort to do so."

I glanced in his direction, then took a step back. I wouldn't apologize for defending Astrid, but now wasn't the right time to start this type of fight.

"I'm not even saying I believe the theory," Oliver told me. "I'm saying it so it's out there."

"If you ask me, the likeliest of explanations is that the Gray Wolf is using her without her realizing it," Jameson said. "I agree there are a lot of coincidences, but we have no evidence for any of them."

"The one thing we know is that the Gray Wolf is a threat," Malcolm pointed out.

"Right. So let's focus on that bit." Jameson pulled out a large map. "If we believe Astrid—which, considering that's our only lead, we will—then they held her somewhere about a day's run west of here, and we were the only pack she came across."

"Which means the most plausible place for a base would be in this general area," Tannen pointed. "Roughly."

"We should send out a couple of patrols to check the area," I said.

Jameson nodded, not taking his eyes from the map. "That's what I was thinking."

For the rest of the meeting, we managed to get a bit more intel on the Gray Wolf and identify a couple of other jobs he might have been mixed up in. But by the time the meeting was over and I was heading back to my house, it felt as though we'd achieved absolutely nothing.

Astrid was sitting in the living room when I walked in, curled up on the couch, watching TV. The scene was so similar to ones from when we were dating that, for a moment, I was transported back to that time. When she would smile at me, and I'd come sit next to her on the couch. We'd talk about our days, and at some point, Thea would usually join us.

But this time, Astrid wasn't smiling, and I remembered things weren't the same anymore.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," she replied. "How'd the meeting go?" Her voice had a nervous edge.

"It went all right," I said. "Not as useful as I might have hoped, but we're making some headway. We think we have a general idea of where they might have been holding you. If we can find that, then that's a start."

"What do you guys know about him so far?"

"We know he's got a big gang and that he's dangerous," I said. "And that the Wolf's Council is concerned about him."

"That's not a whole lot to go on," she pointed out, frowning. "You have to have something more than that."

"I wish we did. It would make all of this a hell of a lot easier." I took a deep breath as I tried to figure out how to phrase the next bit I needed to say. "A couple of them think there might be holes in your story," I added cautiously.

"Oh. Oh ." She nodded almost vacantly. "They don't believe me?"

"They think there's a chance they let you go on purpose."

She nodded, staring off to the side as she chewed her lip, contemplating. I waited, wondering how she was going to react.

"Well," she finally said, "that's awkward."

I couldn't help it. I snorted—loudly. She cracked a grin.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," I promised. "For the most part, they believe you. But I wanted to warn you so it didn't catch you off-guard."

"I appreciate it," she said, her voice a little distant again. "Thanks."