Chapter 2

Lachlan

Waiting for Archie’s return call felt like torture. I didn’t consider myself an impatient man. Actually, I’d been told I had the patience of a god on more than one occasion. Right now that “god” felt more like Zeus, temper and all. If I could wield lightning bolts, Australia would be experiencing the worst thunder storm in history.

I kept trying to tell myself that getting angry wasn’t going to fix the problem.

I already had a path worn down in the carpet from my pacing and despite Taylor having ordered practically everything from the room service menu to entice me to eat something, I hadn’t been able to stomach even a single bite.

“He’s not usually like this at all,” Taylor assured Chelle.

“What’s he usually like?”

“I don’t know, patient and kind. He’s a psychologist and has helped so many people. I just wish there was some way for us to help him now.”

There was, I thought. Get my mate back safe and sound.

Part of the problem was that I knew it was already too late. I’d worked with so many victims over the years in my time with Westin Force that I knew the full extent of psychological damage a kidnapping like this did to a person.

Every second she remained in this nightmare caused additional and often irrevocable trauma. Would she even be the same Tilly I’d started to fall in love with after this?

What Chelle had painted for us was far more reminiscent of the Raglan. Those patients of mine that had suffered under that environment had left deep scars on me. I’d often stayed up late at nights reliving their descriptions. Some of the stories had given me nightmares even.

People often joke about psychologists, brushing us off as quacks and calling us shrinks. They have no idea what we have to endure walking clients through their trauma and diving deep into the human psyche. Perhaps being a natural empath makes that journey even harder, but I love what I do and wouldn’t change it for anything.

The best part about my chosen career is that I can literally work anywhere in the world. There may be some added certifications and paperwork in certain countries, but for the most part I can find work anywhere. It wasn’t something I’d given much thought about when choosing it, but now that there was a possibility that Tilly and I would stay in Australia, I was grateful for it.

I allowed myself a moment to really stop and think about a future with Matilda. Maybe it seemed silly when I wasn’t even sure I’d ever find her or hear her voice again.

I shook my head.

It wouldn’t do me any good to think like that knowing it would just send me spiraling into depression, or worse, my dingo would become so agitated that I wouldn’t be able to control him at all. It was possible. I’d seen it before.

No, that wasn’t going to be the outcome for us. Tilly was strong and a fighter. Even the men who took her knew it. And with any luck she was taken with my parents and kept together. They’d all look out for each other as best as they could.

Everything was going to be fine.

It had to be.

While I did preach to my clients to envision the future they wanted and allow it to manifest, at some point there was a tilt of reality where they had to face the truth of their situation. I wasn’t there yet.

She’d been gone only a few hour. Chances were she wasn’t even to her destination yet. I had every reason to believe with all my heart that she was alive and would get out of this just fine. And if there were any lingering issues, I could always help her through them or find a friend from school that I trusted for her to talk with.

We would survive this and be all the stronger for it.

With that thought in mind, I considered my options. I wasn’t helpless, dammit. I was a fighter too, a valued member of Delta, and I had all the resources of Westin Force at my disposal.

I stopped pacing and walked down to the bedroom my backpack had been taken to. Digging inside it I retrieved a notepad and a pen before heading to the dining room table to jot down my thoughts.

Ignoring the unease and concern through my colleagues, I sat down and got to work.

It wasn’t long before Taylor nudged Grant as they tried to whisper out a plan.

“I’m fine,” I assured them.

“I think that’s what’s freaking them out,” Chelle told me. “What are you doing and why are you suddenly so calm?”

“Done freaking out. Time to get to work.”

“Okay, and what exactly is work? You’re a psychologist, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So what are you doing? I don’t see anyone lying on a couch pouring their heart out to you right now.”

I almost responded in a knee-jerk reaction, but chose to let it go.

“I’m trying to get your sister back.”

“How exactly? Is there some sorta magic in that pen?”

“No,” I said, trying to ignore her snark. I knew she was worried too. “I’m just writing out of list of ideas that could help find her.”

“So basically we’re not doing anything? My sister is missing and we’re all just sitting around waiting for some magical bomb to drop and tell us where she’s at?”

“Michelle, I know you are scared and probably feeling a bit confined indoors right now, but I assure you Westin Force has the greatest resources on the planet and we are doing everything in our power to find Tilly,” Taylor said.

“We found and rescued you, didn’t we? We’ll find her too,” Grant assured her.

Chelle crossed her arms over her chest. “You bought me like chattel, remember? Or should I bow at your feet and thank you.”

“Technically, I bought you. They just found you,” I reminded her.

She growled and stomped down the hall, slamming the door behind her.

“Why did you provoke her like that?” Grant asked.

“She needed some time to cool off. I provoked her just enough to send her into the isolation of her room to do that.”

“Maybe not your best route, but it was effective,” T said.

I knew she was going to press me to tell her what I was doing, but before she had a chance, the phone rang.

“I’ve got it,” Grant announced. “Hello?. . .okay. . . Got it boss.”

He hung up the phone.

“Silas and Painter are on their way up.”

I tried to ignore them as I jotted down every person I could think of that I had helped along the way or that owed me a favor and a quick note about what they did or how they could help.

One page quickly turned into two and then three. Suddenly I was over ten pages long before Silas knocked on the door.

Taylor went to let them in and I discreetly closed my notepad and waited to hear what they came to say.

“How are you holding up, Lachlan?” the large gorilla shifter, leader of Bravo team, asked me.

“I’m okay. Do you have any news to report?”

I knew I sounded a bit desperate, but I couldn’t help it. I knew how helpless and confined Chelle was feeling because I was feeling it too.

“Archie said you sent him over a voice recording of the people who kidnapped your family.”

“I did. He hasn’t gotten back to me on it yet.”

“I know. He called me first.”

“Why?”

“He was able to decipher one of the voices on the file. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Who was it?”

“A kid named Egan Bridger.”

“I don’t recognize it.”

“Me either,” Grant said.

“Maybe not, but you might recognize his mother, Helen Bridger.”

“Refresh our memory, please,” Taylor said.

Painter cleared his throat and Silas nodded to him.

“Helen Bridger was the former admin for Martin Kenston. She was in deep with the Raglan before it disbanded.”

“But we shut down the Raglan,” Grant said.

“We did,” Painter confirmed.

“Did we?” I asked. “Because what Chelle described as the holding cell before she was brought to auction sounded eerily like the old Raglan labs.”

“What are you talking about?” Silas demanded.

“He’s right. She shared a bit about what she remembered with us.”

“And none of you thought to report it?”

“Honestly I didn’t think much of it,” Grant said. “But they’re right. It wasn’t a typical holding facility like we’ve seen before.”

“She said they gave her a serum to force her to shift out of her animal form. Sound familiar?” T asked.

“Well, shit. We were racking our heads to find a link between the Verndari and the Collectors fearing another breach, and you’re telling me that we may be dealing with Raglan leftovers instead?”

“Let’s not jump ahead and sound the alarm on that. We don’t know anything for sure,” Grant reminded them. “A lot of the Verndari are quite wealthy. Even though they are supposed to protect our kind it wouldn’t be a far stretch to find the offspring of one as a Collector.”

“But they know about our kind,” Painter pointed out.

“And clearly they’ve told whoever’s running these auctions,” Taylor pointed out. “Why else would they be verifying shifters using Raglan technology.”

“Raglan technology that Westin Force perfected. Unless it’s the old serum that leaves them stuck and unable to shift,” Grant pointed out.

“Did anyone verify that with the King girl?” Silas asked.

We all looked at each and shook our heads.

“I’ll talk to her,” I volunteered.

Before they could stop me, I got up and went to Chelle’s room. Tapping on the door, I waited for her to answer.

“I heard,” she said through the door.

“So?”

“I can shift.”

“That’s not going to be good enough in this case. We need to see it.”

She opened the door in a robe.

“I figured as much.”

I looked away as she loosened the belt and almost instantly she went from a woman to a dingo.

“Thanks, Chelle,” I told her before shutting the door and regrouping with the others. “She can shift.”

“That means it’s the new serum,” Painter said.

“I know.”

“We have a breach,” Silas told us. “I need to report this to Patrick immediately. This changes everything.”