Chapter 17

A rcher faced a one-story home and stared at an empty hummingbird feeder swinging from the porch. "So this is Breed jail."

Krys peered inside a curtained window, his hands cupped around his eyes.

"I want you men to watch yourselves," Tak ordered them while eating his last bite of beef jerky. "This is one of those fun formalities in your world that I have to partake in. No sense in pissing off the law with an ill-timed joke."

"Says the man with all the jokes," Krys remarked as he rejoined the group.

Montana fanned his face with his cowboy hat. "I still think Robyn should be here."

"She was in the bathroom most of the time," Archer reminded him. "She saw less than we did."

The four men milled around in the front yard. The house looked to be at least fifty years old. Archer knew it was a guise but couldn't help but wonder where they kept prisoners. Chained to the beds? Locked in the basement? Then he wondered if he could keep his cool if he laid eyes on Noah .

"By the way, I want everyone to leave Cecilia alone," Tak said, switching subjects. "Hope and I talked about it before we left and think it's best to schedule our visits. An unexpected knock at the door this afternoon triggered her."

Archer rubbed his forehead. "I keep thinking about what she said earlier—how she was analyzing everything precipitating the fights, trying to figure out what she did wrong. He really fucked with her head, and I don't understand how they can set a guy like that free."

"We'll see what they say about the matter." Tak steered his gaze to the left, hands anchored on his hips. "As for Cecilia, she needs to learn to trust again. That's not a switch you can flip on and off. If she can't, her animal might stay buried. I've seen Shifters go mad when their animal retreats. Maybe our kindness will help her feel safe and that won't happen. So don't be a jackass and knock on her door."

Archer kicked a rock. "She seems too smart for a guy like him."

Montana put his hat back on, shielding his stern expression from the sun. "Men target impressionable women because they're easier to break than the strong ones, but they'll break them nonetheless. They'll ostracize them from friends and family, but it doesn't sound like she had either. That made his job easy. They make them completely dependent, controlling what they eat, how they dress, where they go. Some use fear tactics. But a lot of them are master manipulators."

"How?" Archer asked.

Montana shrugged. "It starts off with compliments and suggestions. The woman begins thinking his ideas are her opinions. They use reward-and-punishment systems. It could be as simple as withdrawing affection for breaking rules. I've seen girls and even men come out of those relationships messed up even before it escalated to violence." Montana rubbed the scar on his left hand. "It doesn't always end well. I bet when she started selling those books and making good money, that set his ego on fire."

Tak smoothed out the Henley shirt that Hope had insisted he wear to the meeting. It was too tight for his torso, and he looked like one of those action-figure toys with clothes painted on.

While he knocked on the door, Archer spotted hidden security cameras in the trees. The house was on private property, away from public roads, making it the perfect cover. Public businesses were not only subject to law enforcement snooping around but also human civilians.

The door opened.

"You blokes wouldn't happen to have a pizza on you?" a young British man with a pencil-thin mustache asked. When he smiled, his fangs revealed he was a Vampire, even though one of his irises had a sliver of blue that bore a resemblance to a pie wedge.

Montana leaned in close to Tak and quietly asked, "Are we in the right place?"

The lean man braced his arm against the doorjamb. "You're Tak of the Arrowhead pack, mated to Hope Church, and these are your best blokes. You have an appointment, and you're most definitely in the right place."

Archer pondered on what kind of jail hired workers who wandered around in white briefs. The only other thing that covered him was a slightly arched tattoo across his chest that said Cursed .

"I'm Peter," he said, stepping away from the door. "Ignore my appearance—I do. We had the coppers out here once looking for someone. When a man answers the door in nothing but his underpants, it's easier to believe he's the homeowner and not a guard who's underpaid, undervalued, and shockingly underdressed." Peter slammed the door once they were inside. "They won't even give me a decent chair." As he turned away and led them to the back, Peter reached behind him and pulled his bunched underwear out of his ass.

They weaved left through a kitchen until Peter stopped at a door marked Pantry . Then he turned. "Would you gentlemen like a refreshment? I'm supposed to offer you water. If you're feeling peckish, we have a package of crisps I bought fifteen years ago in the cupboard."

Tak folded his arms. "No, but why don't you put those fangs back in your head, Vampire?"

"No need to get testy, Shifter ." Peter grinned wider, displaying his fangs. He threaded his fingers through his disheveled black hair, which fell to his shoulders, and said, "Afraid I can't do that. As in… ever. A slight defect on the day they first punched out—I was never able to get the bleeding things back in. My maker had weak blood, hence the blue sliver in my eye. It's made getting a decent job impossible, so here I am, doomed to reside in this spectacular place they call Storybook. I guard prisoners while I myself am a prisoner of circumstance."

"Is that why you're cursed," Krys quipped, jerking his chin at the tattoo.

" This is what happens when you lose a bet and don't have the money to settle it. It wrecks the whole ensemble," he said, gesturing to his underwear. Then he opened the door. "We better crack on. Your carriage awaits."

They filed into a spacious pantry with shelves on the left and right walls. Once inside, Peter shut the door behind him. The light stayed on, and when he pushed a button behind a can of chili, the room shook.

Archer held out his arm to get his balance as the floor dropped, and they started moving down.

"Seems like you'd blow their cover," Krys went on. "The accent, the eyes, the teeth."

Peter shrugged. "It's the twenty-first century. Implants are all the rage, and nobody cares. Honestly. People just think I'm a goth."

Archer tried to pick up a can, but it was glued to the shelf.

"These are props." Peter pointed at the cans lining the shelves. "Empty. We had to glue them to the shelves because they used to tumble about. One man tried pitching them at a Councilman. In case you're wondering, chili leaves a dent."

The empty wall behind Peter moved up, and as the elevator slowed, the wall opened to a large waiting room.

Peter ran his hand down his chest. "Put in a good word for me and suggest that I should wear pajama bottoms."

The group stepped out.

As the elevator rose, Peter dropped to the floor and whispered through the closing gap, "And tell them I need a pet cat."

Straight ahead was a desk, but no one was sitting behind it. Cameras were on the ceiling; there were chairs on the left and a few by the elevator, and two offices to the right. The brown carpet beneath their feet looked old and had a few mystery stains on it.

When one of the doors opened, Eden Thompson—a local Council member—greeted them. "Gentlemen, thank you for coming on short notice."

The door clicked shut.

They had met her before, and she was also the one who made mating ceremonies official.

Tak bowed at the pretty, dark-haired woman. Archer had seen all kinds of unusual eyes in the Breed world, but the brown shade of her skin paired with the fiery color of her luminous orange eyes was a beautiful combination. Despite her shiny lip gloss and flawless eye shadow, her look was minimal. But judging by her manicured nails, which were painted blue to match her shirt, she was definitely a woman who took pride in her appearance. Eden was a tall woman Archer pegged at around five-ten without heels. Had she been born human, she could have been a model.

"Is this everyone?" she asked.

"Except one." Montana removed his hat. "My mate was there, but she dove into the bathroom as soon as he shifted. We saw the same thing until she wasn't in the room anymore. I can call her if?—"

"No need." Eden walked over to the desk and sat on the edge. "I spoke to your beta on the phone just now and understand you need him at home to manage the pack in your absence. And you know I already spoke with Mercy and Calvin this morning when I drove to the bar to collect witness statements. Tell me every detail of what you saw involving Mr. Noah Miller."

"Do you want to question us separately?" Tak inquired.

She canted her head. "If I think you're lying, I'll call Peter in here. But I don't see a motive. There were plenty of witnesses at the bar, and I can corroborate your testimony against theirs. Let's begin, shall we?"

After each of them recounted every detail of the attack, leaving nothing out, Eden walked into her office to fetch a cup of coffee. She offered them some, but they declined. Archer had one thing on his mind, and it wasn't a cappuccino.

Eden sipped her coffee from behind her desk, taking notes and asking unexpected and detailed questions, like whether there were children in the bar and what type of injuries Noah had on him before shifting.

"You mentioned the attack started in her bookstore," Eden said. "Does she have any footage? It's come to my attention that she has cameras in a public place."

"Those were installed by Lucian, one of my packmates," Tak explained. "Because they're in a public place, they're not set to record. It's a direct feed to Noah's phone so he can check in." Furrowing his brow, Tak asked, "Do you need evidence?"

Eden set down her cup. "No. I just have to make sure we don't have recordings floating around. The higher authority has more procedures than you gentlemen care to hear. It just means I have less paperwork to file. Now I have to figure out how to handle this."

"I have a few ideas." Tak patted the blade on his hip.

Eden folded her arms. "Truth be told, I would have no trouble forgetting Mr. Miller was in that cell for a few years. But my hands are tied. We have guidelines on what earns a spot in a cell. We have prisoners serving anywhere from thirty to ninety-five years. Some await transport if it falls out of our jurisdiction or the Mageri wants to handle it, for instance." She scratched the back of her head. "I think it would be fair to keep him here long enough for the woman?—"

"Cecilia," Archer added, then realized he didn't know her last name.

"Thank you, yes. Cecilia," Eden said. "Long enough for her to find a place and gather her belongings. According to the prisoner, the house is in his name, so my hands are tied with property distribution. That's unfortunate for her, but I can assure you that Mr. Miller will be banished from this town after that incident at the bar. Public intoxication of a predator species, reckless endangerment in the presence of minors, attempted murder, destruction of property?—"

"Which property?" Montana asked. "I don't remember him doing anything other than knocking over a few tables."

Eden cupped her hand at the side of her mouth and said, "The more I can add to his report, the better." She lowered her hand. "Unfortunately, my seniors care more about property than people." She leaned back in her chair and rocked. "We have witness statements that suggest he has a drinking problem, and because he's demonstrated that he'll shift in a public setting, that makes him a menace to society. All I can do is exile him from Storybook, but unfortunately for the victim, if she moves on elsewhere, she won't be under our protection. If that's her decision, have her come see me. I know a few contacts who can help her with a safe place and reidentification."

Archer's stomach knotted at the idea of Cecilia leaving, but he had to support whichever choice made her feel safe.

"The woman's staying with us," Tak said. "I don't know how long it will take for her to get on her feet, but she has shelter."

Eden nodded. "That's good. The sooner I can get him out of here, the better. Does he know where she is?"

Tak rubbed his face. "No, but I'm sure that jackass will figure it out."

"I won't mention anything," Eden assured him. "I'll leave it up to you. But if he thinks she's with a pack, that helps. He'd be a fool to cross onto pack territory."

Tak stretched his arms. "‘Fool' is one way to put it; ‘dead man' is another."

"Those are your rights," Eden agreed. "If someone trespasses on your land and poses a threat, you have the right to defend yourself." She rose from her seat. "And that's all I'll say about that. May I speak with you alone?"

Archer rose simultaneously with the alpha, and everyone looked at him. "Can I see him?"

Eden's eyes darted between Archer and Tak. "I'm not sure that's advisable."

Stepping forward, Archer said, "I just have a few things I want to get off my chest."

Tak slid his jaw around and looked at him pensively. "I trust your judgment. But careful not to poke a stick at an angry tiger. "

"Yes," Eden agreed. "He might trespass on your land, and who knows what might happen to him?" She almost sounded hopeful.

Eden opened the door behind her desk and spoke with someone on the other side. Then she waved Archer over. "Go with this gentleman and do as he says."

Archer followed the guard down a hall. He walked by a door on the right, noting a window that revealed what appeared to be private rooms. Then he passed a bathroom hall on the left with a drinking fountain and vending machines. Another door on the right was marked Food Storage . He peered through the window at a small commercial kitchen. The guard swiped his badge on a reader by the steel door at the end of the hall and then opened it.

Archer stepped into a wide hall with cells stretching left to right. Straight ahead was a hallway with a door at the end. "What's down there?"

The guard shook his head. "Maximum security. You're going to the last cell on the left. You have five minutes. Stay away from the bars, especially if you have anything he could grab and use as a weapon. One guy stuck a pen in my neck."

Once the guard left him alone, Archer prowled down the wide hall, his eyes locked on the last cell. A man like Noah didn't deserve to have a spirit animal so powerful.

Reaching the end, he spotted Noah lying on a cot, hands laced behind his head.

When he caught sight of Archer, he sprang to his feet. "Hey, man! Holy shit. I can't believe you came. Fuck. This place, am I right? I don't remember anything that happened last night. One minute, Cecilia and I were arguing. The next thing I know, I'm in jail."

Archer widened his stance. "You attacked her."

Noah jerked his head back. "Are you pulling my chain? My tiger wouldn't do that. "

"No, but you would," he bit out. "She's beaten and bruised."

Noah scoffed. "You should have seen what she did to me before I shifted. She instigated the whole thing. I was defending myself." He wrapped his fingers around the bars, laying on the charm. "Don't let her fool you. She looks sweet and innocent, but she's wild. I couldn't keep her off me. She just kept clawing and hitting and beating my face in. I think she's got mental issues."

Struggling to keep his calm, Archer replied, "I saw you in the bar. You had a few scratches. More like the defensive marks left by victims."

Noah gave him a lethal glare, and the tiger flickered in his eyes. "This is bullshit, and you know it. You're just pissed because you want her and she's mine."

"She's not yours anymore."

"And I suppose she's yours?"

"No," Archer growled. "She's her own."

"Are you here to testify against me or something?" Noah flipped his hair out of his eyes. "Maybe I'll mention to the Council how you offered me money to sleep with her and that's why you have a motive to lie and keep me locked up."

Archer bristled, his wolf pushing at his skin. "That's not what happened."

Noah laughed and stepped away from the bars. "Says you, the tripod who can't even get laid at a sex club. Guys like you play the pity card. I bet Cecilia loves taking care of the poor three-legged wolf. If she ever showed you any affection, it was because she felt sorry for you. And you probably ate it up. A pity fuck is one thing, but she'll never mate someone like you." He eased up to the bars. "Because you can never make her feel safe." Noah paced like a tiger in a cage.

"You're right. I can't get a girl like her. But that's not what I'm here about. I thought maybe I could do you a solid if you could do me one. But… never mind. "

Noah flew at the bars. "Wait! What kind of deal? Look, I think you're a cool dude, and I had a lot to drink. It's fucking with my head. Hangovers, you know? All that shit that went on at the hotel is water under the bridge. I'm all about favor trades. Is that what you want? I'm good for it. Just get me the fuck out of here."

"It sounds like you don't want to deal with tripods. Good seeing you, Noah. The Council plans to keep you in here for a long, long time. Maybe I'll stop by in a few years and see how you're doing."

Archer did a slow turn to the right, and when he did, Noah thrust his arm through the bars and clutched Archer's sleeve.

"Wait!" Noah shouted.

But Archer didn't wait. He pivoted on his heel, grabbed Noah's arm, and snapped his bone against the steel bars.

Noah roared, but nobody heard his cries.

His voice low and dangerous, Archer said, "If you ever come near Cecilia again, I will sever your limbs." He bent Noah's arm, threatening to rip it right off. "And if you ever put a hand on her, I will burn your house to the ground with you inside. If you don't have a house, I'll shackle your neck and make you suffer in ways you've never imagined. You have no clue what pain is, but I'm more than willing to take you on a tour. So here's the deal—if you leave her the fuck alone, I'll leave you the fuck alone."

For a fleeting moment, Archer considered letting the bone rip through Noah's skin and then helping to sever the limb.

Instead, he gripped hard and watched Noah's tears stream down his face. "You may be a tiger, but you'll always be a coward. When I let go, you can either shift like a man or tattle like a boy. I'm willing to convince them to let you leave town on the condition you never come back, or we will hunt you. The lease to the store isn't yours anymore, so all you need to do is sell your house back to the Council. But if you start shit with me, I'll make sure you rot in this cell. It's your choice." With great reluctance, Archer let go.

Noah wailed as he used his free arm to pull his broken one through the narrow bars where it had been wedged tight.

"Give it some thought," Archer said, striding off and feeling a thousand percent better.