CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Elle sighed over the phone the following afternoon. “Do you think Paxton is back?”

Stepping onto her patio, Bree squinted against the glare of the sun. “There’re certainly plenty of reasons to assume he is—and I’ll admit, it does seem likely. Alex certainly made a very convincing case.” Which was why anxiety sat like lead in the pit of her stomach.

“But you don’t want to believe it.”

“No, I don’t. Besides, I don’t think Paxton would particularly care that I’ve renounced my claim on him.”

“Moira said he didn’t share well.”

“No one went after any of my ex-boyfriends. I wasn’t serious about them, no, but I’m serious about Alex—no one’s tried to kidnap or hurt him.” Bree crossed to a rattan chair and sank into the seat cushion, careful not to spill her lemonade. “If Paxton is alive and truly upset enough by my renouncing my claim on him that he felt compelled to leave me necklaces, wouldn’t he have tried to eliminate Alex from the equation?”

“I guess so. Especially if something as small as Drina spouting crap was enough to set Paxton off. But he would think it was his ‘duty’ to eradicate any threat to you.”

“And yet, Dani has never been targeted by anyone.”

“Yeah, but she hasn’t publicly announced that she means to ‘end’ you or hand you over to people who might want you dead. I’m not saying I believe Paxton’s back, I’m just making the point that Dani’s merely being a dumb skank whereas Drina declared she wanted you dead. What exactly did Drina say to you that night in your house? You only told me what happened after the session was over. I need more details.”

Oh, how Bree wished she could say to herself “fuck confidentiality” and spill it all. “I can’t tell you. It would be a breach of confidence.”

“God, you and your morals.”

Bree snickered. “If I don’t have at least one or two, I’ll burn in hell for sure.”

“It was these ‘morals’ that made you let her into your home. You should have told her to go pollute someone else’s air.”

“Giving her the benefit of the doubt was my mistake.” Bree lifted her glass to her mouth, and a cube of ice bumped her lips as she drank her lemonade. “Odd as it may seem, given that she was a pain in Alex’s ass, I’m not hoping she’s dead.”

“Do you think the hyenas might have taken her? I mean, if one of their clan or informants hang around The Tavern the way the fox did right before he took you, they’d have heard that she was willing to help them. They might have thought she’d be useful.”

“Possibly. I don’t know.” Bree’s mouth curved slightly as a squirrel ran across the rear of the wooden fence that surrounded the garden, separating it from the wooded area behind the cul-de-sac.

“Hopefully the tip my dad received earlier will amount to something and he’ll now have the location of the hyena’s base.”

“It didn’t, sadly. Alex called me a short while ago. The hyenas weren’t there.” He, Vinnie, and the others were on their way home.

“Damn. How hard can it be to find one clan of hyenas?”

“Very hard, apparently.” Sighing, Bree placed the cold glass against her forehead to help cool her down. “Maybe we can talk about something else.”

“Oh, I’m all over that plan. Did I tell you I’ve seen actual proof that Damian is the Antichrist?”

Bree blinked. “Huh?”

“He has ‘666’ just behind his ear. It was well-hidden, but I found it.”

“Found it, or scrawled it on his skin with a sharpie while he was sleeping?”

“Does it really matter?”

A silent chuckle shook Bree’s shoulders. “You’re such a fucking nut.”

“I’m not crazy, I’m enlightened. Come on, think of the clusterfucks you’re dealing with right now. You think it’s a coincidence that such chaos reigns so near to Damian? Nu-uh. He probably even targeted you to get to me. Satan’s son only weaves his darkest spells when I’m there to suffer the impact.”

Yep, she was a freaking nut for sure. “I really don’t think Damian had a hand in any of this.”

“Ha! You, silly mortal, underestimate how deep the recesses of his evil power go.” There was the sound of muffled voices in the background, and then Elle said, “Grams wants me for something. Gotta go. If Dani or anyone else turns up at the house to give you shit, just pick up the phone, I’ll be right over.”

“Thanks, Elle. You’re awesome.”

“I’m well-aware of that,” said the redhead, all haughty. “It was never in question.”

Bree chuckled. “Talk to you later. Tell Ingrid I said hi.” She rung off and put her cell on the patio table. Sitting in her backyard often relaxed her. Of course, it would be a lot more relaxing if she wasn’t conscious that enforcers were guarding the house, two of whom patrolled the wooded area behind it.

Being closely protected twenty-four/seven was reassuring on one level, but it also galled the shit out of her and made her feel edgy. She wasn’t worried about the hyenas coming for her—having the opportunity to kick their asses would be awesome—but their determination to get hold of her was somewhat alarming. What did they want with Paxton? Why did they want to contact him so badly?

What bugged her more was the simple yet frustrating fact that she couldn’t walk into her own home without worrying she’d find that something had been planted there. So far, there’d been no more “gifts,” and no one appeared to have broken into the house at any point—which was probably thanks to the enforcers guarding the place.

Or it could be because the culprit was Calvin, who was being so closely watched that he surely wouldn’t risk making anymore weird moves. She was clinging to that theory, but she didn’t fully believe it.

Her inner feline shoved against her skin, straining to be free so she could enjoy the yard. Figuring the restless cat could do with some time to play and explore, Bree placed her glass beside her phone on the table. Half an hour would be enough to soothe her cat’s nerves.

Standing, she shed her clothes, neatly piled them on the rattan chair, and took a long breath. Then she gave her feline freedom.

The cat did a long, languid stretch, scraping her claws along the wooden boards of the deck. Her nose wrinkled at the scents of flower blooms, spicy herbs, and sun-warmed rock.

The cat leaped off the deck and padded over the prickly grass, ignoring the tickle of flower stems. She played. Explored. Chased insects. Hissed at birds. Rubbed up on the pots and planters to scent-mark her territory. Dragged things in and out of her rockery.

A short while later, she felt her human half push for supremacy, reminding her that her time was up. Letting out a disgruntled growl, the cat hopped out of the rockery. And a dark, net dropped over her body, trapping her.

Impatience battering him, Alex prowled down the street toward the cul-de-sac. The whole trip had been a complete waste of time. On one level, he was impressed that the hyenas had managed to keep the location of their territory a secret. On the other level, he was pissed, because the person they had set their sights on was Bree. His Bree.

He scanned the streets and rooftops as he walked. He knew Vinnie, his sons, and the enforcers were on the ball, but Alex would be on edge right up until the hyenas were found.

He also made a point of watching out for any signs of Paxton. If the guy was back, he obviously wasn’t content with sticking to the shadows any longer. He hadn’t publicly revealed himself, no, but he wasn’t operating under the radar either.

Rounding the corner of the cul-de-sac, Alex frowned as he noticed two of Bree’s guards subduing a struggling male.  Alex jogged over to them. And smelled hyena. He growled. “What the fuck’s going on?”

“He’s been hanging on the corner, watching Bree’s house,” said one of the enforcers. “As soon as we casually walked over to have a little talk with him, he ran. Not fast enough, though. We dragged him back here.”

“I called Vinnie,” the second enforcer said to Alex. “He’s on his way.”

“I’m telling you, I don’t know who this Bree girl is!” their captive claimed. He was surprisingly young. Barely a juvenile, really.

The first enforcer arched a brow. “Oh, is that so?”

“Yes!” the hyena insisted. “Some couple approached me in the street and paid me to stand on the corner and stare at that house over there,” he added, casting a hard glance at Bree’s home.

Alex stilled. The hyena’s voice rang with enough honesty to make his hackles rise and his beast stiffen from head to toe. “What couple?” Alex asked.

“I don’t know,” said the hyena. “A man and a woman. They were mates. Polar bears.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. The kid had either invented the dumbest defense in the history of the world, or he had a whole other purpose. Distraction. “Fuck.”

Heart pounding, the cat twisted and clawed at the dark net in a desperate bid to escape. But the material was heavy, thick, and strong. It didn’t tear or even fray.

Footsteps thudded along the ground. As the scent of polar bear filled her nostrils, the cat let out a hiss of sheer fury. Something sharp stabbed her flank through the net. The cat flinched away with a growl.

“You inject her with all of it?” The voice was deep, gruff.

“All of it,” said a female. “Ready?”

“Ready. Open it.”

The cat flexed her claws. She didn’t understand the words. Didn’t know what the bears wanted. She only knew that the sooner she sliced open their throats, the better.

There was the sound of a zipper opening. A large hole appeared in the other side of the net, letting a flicker of light enter. The cat rushed out of the net.

And ran into a metal cage that was surrounded by a black cover.

The door closed with a clang. A lock clicked into place. Trapped.

Hissing and growling, she bashed at the door so hard it rattled. Rattled hard but did not open. Unlike the rest of the cage, it was uncovered, so she could see the bears. They recoiled as she once more battered at the door.

The cat felt her inner human lunge for the surface. Nothing happened. Bree tried again and again to shift. It was useless. Bree was just as trapped inside the cat as the feline was trapped inside the cage.

Wanting to attack, bite, and mangle her captors, the cat again sprang at the door. It still did not open. She snarled—a sound that swore retribution if they didn’t free her.

“This cage is shifter-proof, girly,” said the male. “You’re not getting out of it. And that injection we gave you should keep you in your animal form for a while, so I wouldn’t bother trying to shift.”

The female polar stood. “Go, go, go.”

Ignoring the cat’s struggles, the male carried the cage as the pair ran to the rear fence. His mate swiftly climbed over. He stood on a large planter, passed the cage over the fence to the female, and then jumped over to land at her side.

“Hurry before someone notices she’s gone,” he said, retaking the cage. “Keep your gun out and ready to shoot anyone who comes at us.”

The door of the cage was angled toward her house, so the cat saw her home get further and further away as the bears darted through the wooded area, winding their way around trees and making the cage jiggle and rock.

Knowing enforcers patrolled the area, the cat snarled and hissed as loud as she could. All the while, she bashed against the cage, fueled by panic and adrenaline. She kept expecting to see one of her pride mates in pursuit. But no one came.

Bree tried again and again to reach for supremacy. No matter how much strength she put behind her attempts, she couldn’t force the shift.

With her heart beating hard and fast in her chest, the cat repeatedly thrashed and twisted within the confines of the cage, refusing to give up, determined to be free. Her body hurt from how violently she launched herself at the door over and over. The metal cut into her paws and face. But she ignored the pain and kept on fighting for freedom.

Her efforts came to nothing. She couldn’t break—

There was a whoosh of air, and then a hard thwack.

The female polar cried out. Both bears skidded to a halt. The cage tumbled to the forest floor but didn’t open. Something small but heavy landed on the ground.

“Son of a bitch,” the male polar spat.

A struggle quickly commenced. Was it an enforcer? The cat did not know. Most of the cage was still covered in a dark sheet, so the cat couldn’t see the struggle from her angle. But she heard wood thumping bone, flesh hitting flesh, and something sharp slicing through skin.

The bears growled, cursed, let out agonized cries. The coppery scent of blood tainted the air, overriding the woodsy smells.

The feline could see a gun a few feet away—a gun she suspected the female polar had dropped. Worried one of the bears would reach for it and shoot the enforcer, the cat redoubled her frantic attempts to be free.

Finally, the sounds of a struggle ceased. The woods would have been unnaturally quiet if it weren’t for the weak whimpers coming from the female bear.

A single set of footsteps came the feline’s way. She stilled as a familiar scent drifted to her … Bitter apples, thick smoked wood, and black pepper.

“It’s all right, little cat,” a voice assured her from behind—a voice she knew well. “I’ll get you out of there.”

Panicked once more, she hissed and spat and writhed like a rabid animal. The cage jerked and rattled and almost toppled over. Deep inside her, Bree once more tried and failed to shift.

“Not gonna hurt you,” he promised. “Just want to—”

A roar split the air. A roar she recognized. Alex.

The male behind her cursed. “I’ll see you again soon, little cat. Oh, and stay away from my fucking cousin.”Then he was gone.

In the distance, heavy footsteps galloped along the forest floor; their beat almost as fast as that of her heart. Alex’s wolverine was coming.He’d—

A soft whimper snatched her attention. The cat froze as she heard a body awkwardly shuffle along the ground toward her. And then a feminine hand came into view. But it didn’t reach for the cage. It closed around the butt of the gun.

The cat’s heart skipped a beat. The polar didn’t fire at the cat. She kept the gun pointed straight ahead of her. Pointed in the direction from where the wolverine was heading.

The cat hissed at the polar in warning, but the female kept the gun aimed into the woods. The galloping footsteps were louder now. The feline could also hear voices and other sets of footsteps. The wolverine wasn’t alone. But he was in the lead. He would be the first to be shot.

The cat battered at the cage again. It rocked. Jangled. Jerked. Shook—

It tipped over. The cat righted herself just as a wolverine came into view. She couldn’t warn him. Couldn’t help him.

Gunshots rang through the air. One, two, three, four, five, six.Bullets thudded into the wolverine, making his steps falter and slow, but still he barreled into the polar. The cat could only see the rear of his body as he savaged the female, wrenching bone-curdling screams out of her. Then the screams died off, and her heartbeat stuttered to a halt.

His chest heaving, the wolverine limped over to the cage. Bones cracked and popped as he shifted shape. Lying on his side, Alex stared at her, his eyes alight with both pain and relief. “You’re okay,” he rasped, fumbling with the lock on the door. He pried it open and then rolled onto his back with a grunt.

Smelling his blood and pain, the cat padded out of the cage and licked at his face. Bree tried bashing her way to the surface, wanting to touch and reassure him, but she still couldn’t force the shift.

“I’m all right,” he told her.

Their Alpha and several pride members came crashing out of the trees and ran toward them.

The Alpha cursed. “Let’s get him to Bree’s house fast. Someone call Helena and ask her to meet us there.”

Sitting on the recliner in the reading nook, Elle shook her head at Alex. “I have no idea how anyone can so easily survive six lethal bullet wounds.”

No, neither did Bree. It seemed insane that he was casually sprawled on the armchair with her on his lap.

Crossing the living area, Valentina scoffed at Elle. “He is wolverine. Bullets cannot keep us down. This you know.” She handed a bowl to Alex. “Eat. It will give you energy boost.”

Bree frowned at the bowl. “I have chicken noodle soup?”

James snickered. “It’s amazing what a wolverine will find in kitchen cupboards. It’s almost like magic.” The humor in his gaze dimmed when it landed on Alex. Like her, James had been wincing and flinching when Helena dug the bullets out of Alex—a delicate process that Bree had watched while trapped in her feline’s form.

Alex, on the other hand, hadn’t once groaned or even cursed beneath his breath. He’d sat stoic throughout the entire process. He’d also lost a hell of a lot of blood, which had made her cat frantic.

Bree had finally shifted twenty minutes ago. Dressed in shorts and a tee, she’d calmly answered Vinnie’s questions about what happened in the woods. Inside, she was seething.

Who wouldn’t be? Her cat had been drugged, caged, and kidnapped from her own backyard. Bree hadn’t been able to help her escape the cage, due to those goddamn drugs. Worse, she could no longer deny that Paxton was alive and local. And the idiot whose lap she was now sitting on had jumped in front of bullets merely to avenge her and then he’d almost bled to death. Everything just seemed like one giant mess.

Her feline was just as irate. Having a bunch of people in her living room wasn’t easing the pacing cat’s nerves. Especially since they were all wound up tight. Their fury was a palpable thing that ruffled her fur. And hearing the number of voices outside didn’t help.

It was touching that so many people had come to check that she and Alex were fine, but a lot of them were also pissed and demanding answers that nobody had. It wouldn’t take much for things to turn ugly out there—pallas cats tended to pick fights when feeling mad or helpless. The other omegas would thankfully be on top of that.

Many pride mates had gone out with Luke and some of the enforcers in search of Paxton. Bree would have gone with them if Vinnie hadn’t needed to question her.

“Has anyone looked into whether the polar bears worked for Marino’s agency?” asked James.

“No need,” replied Tate, standing next to his father in front of the fireplace. “I recognized them as lone shifters for hire. I’m glad the sons of bitches died hard—they deserved it.”

They’d definitely deserved it, because the motherfuckers had killed the two enforcers who’d patrolled the woods behind her yard. One of them had been Benny. Luke had found the bodies stashed near the roots of an old tree.

Bree’s eyes fell closed. The back of her throat ached. The males had died for no other reason than that they’d been trying to keep her safe. Though she knew she held no blame in that, guilt churned in her stomach all the same.

Her hand clenched around the now-cold cup of black tea that Valentina had given her earlier. Bree hadn’t even taken a single sip. She couldn’t. She felt sick all the way down to her soul.

“Where’s the young hyena who was paid to stare at the house?” Mila asked.

“We let him go,” replied Vinnie. “He had no idea why he’d been asked to watch Bree’s home, let alone what the bears had planned. Tate checked out his personal details; he doesn’t belong to the Silva Clan, but I think the bears deliberately chose a hyena to act as a distraction, hoping we’d assume he was part of that bastard clan. Which we did.”

Valentina glared at the Alpha. “Tell me what you are doing to find these hyenas. You say again and again you are ‘working on it.’ That is lazy term, no? Bree was almost taken. My son was almost killed. We lost two enforcers—”

“You don’t have to remind me of that,” said Vinnie, a strain in his voice. “I’ve consulted just about every source I have on Dale Bray and the Silva Clan. I’ve checked out every tip I’ve been given on their whereabouts—they all came to nothing.”

“Is it possible that Calvin could have given his watchers the slip and ventured to the woods?” James asked his brother in a much gentler tone than his mate’s.

It was Tate who answered. “Anything is possible, but I doubt it. Too many things point to his twin being back on the scene. Bree didn’t see Paxton in the woods, true, but whoever helped her called her ‘little cat.’ That was Paxton’s endearment for her.”

“Which Calvin knows well,” Elle cut in. “What better way for the guy to make everyone believe his story that his brother is back than by posing as his brother?”

“I had that same thought,” said Mila. “But I agree with Tate—too much has happened that suggests Paxton’s back.”

Done with his soup, Alex laid a hand on Bree’s thigh. “You’re not going to like what I have to say but let me finish. I think it would be a good idea for you to stay with me in my apartment for a while.”

Yeah, she’d been expecting him to say that.

“You’re too exposed here,” he added. “My complex is a lot harder to break into. And if anyone managed to get inside, there’s no way they wouldn’t be noticed. Plus, Vinnie just lost two enforcers. If he assigns two others to your house, that means he has less enforcers doing their everyday duties, which will affect the entire pride. But if you really want to stay here, I’ll move in with you and—”

“No,” Bree cut in. “I’ll stay at your place until this is over.” She didn’t like that she was effectively letting the hyenas chase her out of her home, but if Alex was hurt again because of her pride … no, she wouldn’t be able to take it.

His face softened. “Good.”

She could see he believed that she was cooperating in a bid to better protect herself. He was wrong. She was agreeing because it seemed the best way to protect him.

As much as she liked to tell herself that her “savior” in the woods could have been Calvin, she knew better than to cling to straws any longer. It had to have been Paxton. He’d warned her to stay away from Alex. If the wolverine moved into her home even temporarily, Paxton—the twisted bastard—might try to kill him. He wouldn’t be much happier about her moving in with Alex, no, but at least they’d be harder for Paxton to reach.

She wasn’t too proud to admit that she wouldn’t be able to properly relax here or get a good night’s sleep until all this was over anyway. If she stayed, it would only be to spite the fuckers. What was the sense in that?

It was about half an hour later that Vinnie stood and said, “Well, I’d better go. I need to go talk with the families of the deceased. That neither males were mated now seems both sad and a blessing. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

Bree walked everyone to the door as, one by one, they filed out of the house, ordering both her and Alex to rest and to call them if they needed anything. Once they were gone, she returned to the living area.

Alex rose from the chair and crossed to her. “How’re you doing?”

“Still unbelievably pissed,” she replied.

“You’re not alone on that one.” His perceptive gaze flitted over her face. “Get rid of the guilt, baby girl. You are not the reason those enforcers are dead.”

“Intellectually, I know that—”

“Then let it go.” He cupped her jaw. “You’re not responsible for what happened. You hear me?”

She gave a slow nod. “Are you sure you’re good with me staying at your place?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You don’t like having people in your apartment, and I’m an omega. People turn up to talk with me at random times, no matter where I am. I could stay with Elle instead.”

“You’re staying with me—end of conversation.” He dropped a hard kiss on her mouth and then released her jaw. “Need any help packing your stuff?”

“No, I can do it.”

“You sure? Because—” His gaze snapped to the window as the crowd’s noise level rose. “Luke and the others are back from searching the woods.”

“Go ask him if they found any sign of … of Paxton.” She needed to know. And yet she didn’t want to know.

Alex hesitated. “You’ll be all right here?”

“The house is surrounded by enforcers, and a large number of our pride are gathered in the cul-de-sac—I’ll be fine.”

He studied her face a moment longer and then nodded. “I won’t be long.” He gave her another quick kiss and then left.

Now that the house was finally empty, Bree let out a long sigh and rubbed at her temples. God, she needed a drink. Pink gin. Or tequila. Or vodka. Maybe all three. She’d wait until she was at Alex’s apartment. Then they could pull out the bottles and get a little buzz going. First, she needed to pack.

But instead of heading upstairs, she found herself sinking back into the chair. Fuck, two people had died trying to keep her safe. Neither had deserved that. Benny, God, he’d just started to sort his shit out; he’d even won over Renee after weeks of courting her and pleading for a second chance.

If Bree had to guess, she’d say Renee would hate herself for not giving him that chance sooner. People took it for granted that they had time to chew over their decisions. It didn’t always work like that.

Well, the hyenas had made a grave mistake in hiring those polar bears. The pride had been gunning for the clan before. But now that two of their own were dead, the pride would go after the hyenas with a fury-driven, single-minded focus.

Bree wasn’t sure how long she spent just sitting there, staring into space, seeking a calm she couldn’t find. But then the doorbell rang, pulling her from her zone.

Frowning, she walked into the hallway and glanced through the peephole. Motherfucker. Her cat peeled back her upper lip and bared her teeth.