CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” asked Tate.

“No one knows where he lives,” Gavin swore. “He doesn’t trust anyone with the information. He’s paranoid that way.”

“You’re telling me Gideon is still underground? That he keeps himself secluded?”

“No, he isn’t in hiding anymore.”

Panting, Enrique shook his head. “Gavin, stop talk—” He slumped in his chair as Alex dealt him a knock-out blow to the temple.

Gavin’s head whipped around, and he gaped at his friend.

Tate clicked his fingers. “Don’t look at him, Gavin. You need to pay attention to me right now. I need you to focus. You can do that, can’t you?”

His chest heaving, Gavin raised his eyes to Tate, looking lost and dazed. “You … He …”

“I know, he’s a bit of a mess right now,” said Tate. “But things didn’t have to go down this way. All I want is answers. So let’s get back to what you were saying before. You said Gideon isn’t in hiding anymore.”

“N-no,” Gavin stuttered. “H-he doesn’t go out a lot in public, but he hasn’t isolated himself. He changed his appearance. No one who’s seen him at the auctions has ever guessed he’s Gideon York. Or if they did, they never said.”

Tate narrowed his eyes. “He attends the auctions?”

“He hosts them, just like the one tonight.”

Tate stilled, his pulse quickening. “There’s an auction happening tonight?”

“Yes.”

“And Gideon will be there?”

“Yes. He’s always the auctioneer.”

Anticipation once again pounded through Tate. “Where will it be held?”

“I …” Gavin snapped his mouth shut, his face strained. “If I tell you, you’ll go there and kill him.”

“Fuck, yeah, I will. And I’ll free all those loners who did nothing to deserve what’s happening to them. He deserves what’s coming, Gavin. He’s had it coming for a long time. How you can’t see he’s one sick puppy, I don’t know. I’ll just bet he gets off on the power that comes with taking bids and declaring who is sold to whom.”

Gavin frowned, shaking his head. “Gideon isn’t like that.”

Luke snorted. “Don’t kid yourself. Your Alpha is all about wielding that kind of dark power.”

“Gideon’s not our Alpha. Our group … it isn’t like a pack or clan. We’re a family. Gideon is head of our family. Our patriarch.”

“So, he’s your Alpha,” said Luke.

Gavin’s mouth tightened. “No. We’re not like all of you. We don’t want that cult-type life. Gideon guides us. Provides for us. Protects us.”

“So, he’s your Alpha,” Luke repeated.

“No,” Gavin bit out. “He just … gives us direction. Helps us fight our nature. Following his order to shift only twice a year is hard, and disallowing our animals to influence our actions can be even harder. Especially when the animals know we never intend to claim our mates.”

Havana shook her head. That had to be a fate worse than death for the guy’s inner jaguar—it would never co-exist with its human half, never bind with the other half of its soul, never find the peace that came with a mating bond. Skirting around Gavin so that she could meet his eyes, she asked, “Why fight who you really are? What did your cat ever do to you?”

“It’s his fault that my human family wouldn’t accept me,” replied Gavin. “His pride didn’t want me either—they don’t want hybrids polluting their gene pool.” He snorted. “I never fit in either world.”

Havana frowned. “And you think that makes you a special snowflake or something? The reason a lot of shifters become loners is that, like you, they had no one from either world who’d accept them. How are you any different from them? Why is your pain more important than theirs? Where was your empathy for them when your patriarch-who’s-basically-an-Alpha asked you to help him sell them?”

Gavin’s brow creased, as if he’d never before considered that his plight was similar to that of many loners. “But … they’re all doomed anyway. Loners never live long. That life is too dangerous for them to survive it.”

“I’m guessing it was Gideon who fed you that bullshit,” said Tate. “But, honestly, I don’t care. I have only one question on my mind right now. Where will the auction be held?”

Gavin opened his mouth, but no words came out. He shook his head sadly.

Tate sighed. “Alex.”

The wolverine gripped Gavin’s pinky finger, which had the jaguar’s eyes widening almost comically.

Gavin writhed. “No! No, don’t!”

“Where will the auction be held?” Tate asked calmly.

Havana nudged the cat. “Come on, Gavin. I don’t think your beloved patriarch would want you to suffer for him. And why stop now? You’ve already told us plenty. There’s no sense in holding onto the location when we’ll get it out of you eventually anyway.”

“Why endure pain for him?” Tate asked the jaguar. “You say he protects you. I don’t see how. He sends off you and Enrique to do much of his dirty work, doesn’t he?”

Gavin’s mouth bobbed open and closed. “Well … yes.”

“He never takes any of the risks,” Tate pointed out. “He leaves you and Enrique to do that. So he’s not really much of a protector, is he?”

“I, well, I don’t know.”

“Sure you do. Wake the fuck up, Gavin. He saw that need you have to belong, he gave you the ‘family’ you wanted, and then he took it from you. He went into hiding. Did he insist on you and Enrique going into hiding with him? Or did he have you two go out and do things on his behalf, again taking the risks?”

Gavin didn’t answer, his expression pensive.

“The loners up for sale tonight … one of them could just as easily have been you, Gavin. And if it had been you on the auction block, wouldn’t you have wanted someone to speak out for you? To at least give the location of the auction so that it could be stopped?”

Gavin squeezed his eyes shut.

“He dirtied your soul by pulling you into his trafficking operation. A lot of lone shifters were probably sentenced to fates worse than death, and you sent them to that auction block. But now is your chance to wash away some of that dirt. You can save the people who are up for auction tonight. You can save yourself from receiving the same beating that Enrique got. So do it. Help us help them. Help yourself. Tell us where the auction will be held.”

Gavin swallowed hard and lowered his eyes. “The yacht.”

Tate’s insides jumped. “Yacht?”

“It belongs to Gideon. He takes the assets and customers on board and then holds the auction at sea,” Gavin confessed, his shoulders sagging. “The boat is called the Pollyanna.”

Tate looked at his mate, who gave him a look that said, “Told you the universe was giving us another heads-up.” Ignoring it, he turned back to the jaguar. “Well done, Gavin. This is almost over. First, tell me everything there is to know about this yacht.”

From their shadowy spot near a closed rental office at the dock, Tate and his pride mates closely observed the goings-on near the Pollyanna mega yacht. Gideon was so certain he wasn’t trackable that he didn’t even have sentries posted around the dock. With the exception of the armed guards stationed on the upper level of the yacht, the only people in sight were the two males manning the entrance, clad in tuxedos.

“I’m getting the sense that those two have been doing this job for a while,” said Luke. “They didn’t just politely greet the people who boarded. They spoke to them like they’d met them before. Gideon must have a lot of repeat customers.”

“What disgusts me is that everyone who boarded was dressed like they’re attending a black-tie event,” said Havana. “They’re here to buy people, and they’re acting like it’s a regular swanky night out. They didn’t even scurry on board while glancing guiltily over their shoulders. No, they all just strolled leisurely toward the boat without a care in the world.”

“They won’t be feeling so cool and casual when we board,” said Alex. “And I don’t think we’ll find that too difficult. The two men on the dock aren’t on high alert. The people patrolling the upper deck are pacing around, their guns at the ready, but none are paying as much attention as they should.”

“Everyone seems quite sure that no one will be here who shouldn’t be,” Tate agreed. “I thought that Gavin was either wrong or lying when he said the security wouldn’t be tight. Gideon’s apparently too arrogant to accept that the people hunting him might just get close.”

Gavin had finally broken after confessing the name of the boat. The rest of the information had just tumbled out of him—where the yacht was docked, how many minions would be on board, the names of the clientele, and even the layout of the boat.

The fiberglass and chrome mega yacht had several levels. According to Gavin, the captives were kept in the crew’s quarters, which had been converted into rows of jail cells. The bidders were taken straight up to the spacious and luxurious middle deck, where they’d be given a catalogue of the “assets” to glimpse through. After cocktails, the loners were brought up, one by one, to be viewed and sold.

“I’m hoping the plan is as simple as this—we sneak on board and kill everyone except for the captives,” said Havana. “Because, personally, I don’t think the bidders should be allowed to wander free any more than Gideon and his employees should.”

“Nor do I, babe,” said Tate. “His ‘guests’ are here to buy people—that lost them the right to live. If it wasn’t for fuckers like them, there’d be no market for this kind of thing.”

Bailey’s brows lifted. “Then no one has a problem if I kill any whom I happen across?”

“No,” Tate told her.

The mamba smiled. “Groovy. Because I’d have done it anyway.”

Tate turned to his pride mates. He’d brought plenty along with him after hearing that Gideon would have a lot of workers on board—some were chefs, waiters, etc., but they were loyal to Gideon and would join him in a fight if necessary.

“This all has to happen very fast. As soon as Gideon realizes his guards are down, he’ll know something is wrong.” Tate turned to Luke. “Alex and I will take out the men on the dock. You will lead some of our pride onto the upper deck to put the guards out of commission. Once they’re down, the rest of us will board except for Farrell, Grant, JP, Chen, and Joaquin—they’ll stand on the dock and eliminate anyone who throws themselves overboard and tries swimming to safety.”

Tate turned to his mate. “I want you, Aspen and Bailey to head to the lowest quarters, take care of whatever guards might be there, and free the captives. Deke and Isaiah will aid you. Take the captives straight to one of our SUVs. We can’t risk them running into the fight, potentially getting caught, and unwittingly making themselves hostages. Sam is waiting near the SUVs, he’ll heal any who might have wounds,” Tate added, referring to the second healer within his pride.

“I’ll get them to safety,” Havana vowed.

“I don’t doubt that. Dad, I want you to see if you can find any papers or documentation from prior auctions that might show us where other trafficked loners were taken. Alex will go with you. If there’s a safe or locked room, he can get you into them.”

Vinnie nodded.

Tate cupped his mate’s neck and gave it a gentle squeeze, almost smiling at her “Be careful” look. “All right, let’s move.”

Despite having utter faith in Tate, Havana felt her pulse quickening when he and Alex slipped away and became part of the night. Luke and a small team of cats also melted away, heading in the other direction.

She squinted, straining to catch sight of Tate. Nothing. Her heart began to beat a little faster, and a knot formed in her gut. It was only her past experiences with these sorts of situations that stopped her from restlessly tapping her foot.

She stilled as he and Alex materialized behind the two men on the dock. Both Tate and the wolverine snapped the necks of their targets in an instant. And the knot in her gut blessedly unraveled. Her devil chuffed, impressed by their stealth. No sooner had they hauled off the bodies than Luke signaled that the guards were all down.

Havana glanced at Farrell and the cats who’d be watching the dock. “Call out if you need us.” She skimmed her gaze over the others and then tipped her chin toward the yacht. With little to no sound, they hurried toward it. She was thankful for the music she could hear playing on the middle deck, because there was no way to stop the wooden boards of the dock from creaking here and there as they dashed across it.

Tate caught up to her there. “Stay alert.”

“You, too,” she said.

Everyone swarmed the yacht in an eerie silence and headed in different directions. The scents of saltwater, sea air, and wood polish were heavy, making her devil’s nose twitch.

Keeping her tread light so that the soles of her sneakers wouldn’t squeak on the deck, Havana led the way as she, Bailey, Aspen, Deke, and Isaiah wandered the ground level in search of the entrance to the crew’s quarters. She heard muffled voices coming from a room up ahead that, if the scents filtering out of it were anything to go by, was probably a kitchen.

Latch door.

Recognizing it from Gavin’s description, Havana crouched near it and grabbed the handle. According to Gavin, only one shifter stayed down there with the captives. Havana knew they’d need to eliminate him fast so that he wouldn’t have a chance to call out for help. She signaled to Bailey, who promptly shifted.

Havana whipped up the hatch door. A man sitting on a stool at the base of the stairs looked up just as the snake dived at him. Before he had the chance to cry out, she’d curled her slender body tight around his neck.

Havana leapt down, grabbed his head, and sharply twisted it—breaking his neck in one smooth movement. She lowered him to the floor just as Aspen and the others descended the stairs, closing the latch door behind them.

Havana turned to the cells, and her chest squeezed. Three young men. An elderly woman. Four teenage girls. A middle-aged man. And, oh God, a little boy—he couldn’t be any older than eight. Unlike the others, he hadn’t stood or moved to the door of his cell, he sat huddled in the corner.

“Please stay as quiet as you can,” she said to the captives. “My name is Havana Ramos, and these are my pride mates. We’re here to free you. But we have to do it quickly and without drawing attention.”

One of the teenage girls gestured at the dead guard, a glitter of disgust in her eyes. “He said someone will come for us soon to escort us upstairs.”

“Well, my pride mates are currently up there, and they’ll take care of those assholes, so don’t worry about them.” Havana snatched the set of keys from the guard’s pocket and tossed them to Deke, who then began to free the lone shifters.

She’d half-expected to find them in dirty, tatty clothing. But although they looked tired and undernourished, they were all clean and dressed in decent clothing. Probably so that they’d look presentable for their potential buyers.

One of the girls marched to the dead guard and spat on him. Recognizing her from the description Dawn gave her, Havana asked, “Are you Keziah?”

The girl stilled. “Yes.”

“Dawn has been very worried about you. She asked me to do my best to find you.”

Keziah’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I didn’t think anyone would even notice I was gone.”

Havana looked briefly at the guard. “He hurt you?”

She gave a tight nod. “He wasn’t the only one. You’ll kill the others, too? Gideon? Earl?”

Her jaw hard, Havana said, “I can assure you that none of the fuckers on this yacht will survive what my pride mates do to them.”

“Havana,” said Deke. He tipped his chin toward the little boy’s cell. “Need some help there.”

Havana crossed to the cell. The kid still hadn’t moved an inch, and he didn’t look inclined to. Poor thing was terrified. She crouched down and kept her voice low as she said, “You’re safe now.” He didn’t appear convinced of that.

Just then, Aspen came over in her bearcat form. Unsurprisingly, the boy’s eyes lit up just a little at the adorable sight of her.

“Can she go inside to see you?” asked Havana.

He frowned. “It’s not a good place. It’s small and cold.”

“I see. Then maybe you could come over and pet her. She likes that.” Havana tilted her head. “What do you think?”

“It’s okay, Robbie,” said the elderly woman. “These people aren’t here to hurt us.”

“The man said others would come for us, Mary,” Robbie reminded her. “That they’d buy us and take us away.”

Havana shook her head. “We’re not those people.”

“It really is okay, Robbie,” Keziah told him. “They know my friend, Dawn. She asked this lady to find me. Dawn wouldn’t have done that if Havana was bad, would she?”

He chewed on his lower lip for a moment. Then, ever so slowly, he unfurled from his position and exited his cell. He stroked the bearcat. “Can we go now?”

“We certainly can,” Havana replied, standing upright. She looked at the other loners as she said, “Please don’t race ahead of me when we leave the room. Some of my pride mates are on the dock, ready to take down any fleeing bidders. I don’t want them to mistake any of you for one of them.”

“I want to fight,” declared Robbie.

Deke looked down at him. “There’s a very important job that needs to be done. A man’s job. Mary needs someone to stick close to her to stop her from being scared. One of the other men could do it, of course. Up to you.”

Robbie’s chest puffed up a little. “I can do it.”

“I thought so,” said Deke.

Havana ran her gaze along each of the loners. “Stay quiet and follow us, we’ll get you to—” A loud cry came from far above them, and then there was a roar. Shit. “Come on, let’s move.”

Havana stayed close behind Aspen’s bearcat as the animal raced up the stairs. The bearcat pushed open the hatch and stepped out.

Two people in uniform skidded to a halt in front of her, their mouths parted in surprise. Their expressions softened. “Aw,” they said in unison.

The bearcat leaped on one of the men, swiping out with her claws like a damn housecat, and knocking him flat on his back. More uniformed crew members came dashing around the corner just as Havana and the others reached the ground level. For a moment, everyone just stared at each other. Then claws sliced out, upper lips peeled back, and snarls sounded throughout the large space.

Havana, Deke, and Isaiah stood in front of the loners like a barrier. The crew charged as one, and she found herself facing a slim brunette. Havana whipped up her arm to block the hand that came at her with its claws extended, and then she shoved her own claws right in the bitch’s throat.

The ground level became a battlefield. Fists flew. Feet kicked. Claws raked. Teeth bit. It was quite simply mayhem, but her devil damn well loved it.

Aiming to quickly incapacitate her attackers, Havana didn’t bother with fancy moves. She punched throats, snapped necks, broke bones, severed arteries, and sliced open stomachs.

Flanking her, Deke and Isaiah were equally pitiless as they fended off the crew and decimated their numbers.

Some of the loners joined the fight, but they quickly began to tire. They thankfully had the help of Aspen’s bearcat—the animal jumped on backs, slashed Achilles heels, and sank her teeth into sensitive body parts. Bailey’s mamba also helped the loners, using those fangs of hers to inject venom into Gideon’s people.

When only three crew members were still standing, Havana used that moment to lead the loners to the exit. As they clambered off the yacht, she nodded at Farrell, ensuring he knew they weren’t enemies. It seemed that a few bidders were trying to flee the yacht by climbing overboard, because a number of dead bodies lay at the feet of Farrell and the other Olympus cats.

Deke and Isaiah closely followed the loners, helping to herd them off the yacht and along the dock. Havana waited, expecting Aspen and Bailey to be right behind them. Her heart sank when they didn’t appear. She rushed back onto the yacht, along a corridor … and almost crashed into two males.

One of them looked down at her, and his mouth curved into a slick, insincere smile. “Well, if it isn’t Miss Ramos.”

She knew that voice. Gideon.

“We finally meet in person.” He pointed a gun at her head.

Fuck.