CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER TWELVE

Walking through the open rusted gates, Blair looked at her mate, who held her hand in his. “Tate said we’d find them near the Ferris wheel, right?”

“Yes.” Luke tipped his chin toward the ride in question, which towered over most of the others. “It’s just a short walk away.”

Deke and Isaiah flanked them as they headed for the wheel. There was something seriously eerie about strolling through an abandoned amusement park. There was no laughter, no squeals of delight, no smells of vendor food, no life.

Veins of rust spiderwebbed along the many rides. Graffiti decorated the benches, ticket boxes, and gloomy haunted house. A lone bumper boat sat in the middle of the pedestrian path, weeds sprouting out of the small boat like it was a planter.

Blair’s female sniffed and flexed her claws, still wound tight. Blair herself was no less tense. It wasn’t bad enough that Noelle had dished out more crap, was it? Oh no. She’d also had to learn that she’d unknowingly slept in a cabin that had been branded by a male other than her mate.

And then there was the totally wacked letter that … Shit, she needed to calm the hell down. Her attention needed to be on the current situation with Chester. But it was hard to stay focused when she wasn’t just furious at who invaded her old cabin but also at herself for not sensing that it had been not only broken into but marked.

Blair didn’t need to ask Luke if he was okay. His own fury was a drumbeat along their bond. If they were alone, she would have made some attempt to soothe him. Right now sadly wasn’t the time for that. It would have to wait.

Turning a corner, they found Tate, Havana, Bailey, Alex, Farrell, and PJ gathered around a Ferris wheel car. An unfamiliar male sat in the car, a gag in his mouth, his grip tight on the metal safety bar. This had to be good ole Chester Wilkins. Her female disdainfully peeled back her upper lip.

He wasn’t struggling or fighting to talk around his gag. He was still. Watchful. Controlled. But the eyes darting from person to person flickered with fear. The emotion also laced his scent, along with sweat and panic.

Studying Luke’s expression, Tate frowned. “Who put that look on your face?”

“I’ll fill you in later,” Luke replied.

The Alpha’s eyes narrowed. “Something happened?” He cut his gaze to Blair. “Your stalker made another move?”

“Like I said, we’ll fill you in later,” Luke told him before casting the human a glance. “Did he say anything before being gagged?”

Tate stared at his brother, no doubt tempted to push out of concern, but he finally said, “According to PJ, there was a lot of cursing and demands to be released at first. But he hasn’t tried communicating since being dragged out of PJ’s trunk.” Tate paused as a single crow zipped past them with a distinctive caw. “We haven’t questioned him yet. We’re waiting for Camden and Aspen to arrive. They were working when I called.”

It wasn’t long before the couple showed up. Both looked ready to tear Chester’s limbs right off his body—especially Aspen. Well, if it had been Luke who’d been targeted by poachers Blair would be just as eager for blood.

A nod from Tate had Alex ripping away the gag. Chester flexed his jaw, his gaze still restless and glimmering with apprehension.

Stood in front of him, Tate folded his arms. “I’d imagine you’ve spent some time thinking up pretty lies in your own defense. You probably mean to convince us that we have the wrong person, but here’s the thing, Chester—we know that isn’t the case. We know that you’re the man we’re looking for. And we have no problem torturing answers out of you, so it’s in your best interests to answer our questions honestly.”

Camden sidled up to the Alpha, his eyes cold as they pinned the human in place. “I’m pretty sure I don’t need to introduce myself, given you recently shot me with tranqs before then attempting to kidnap me with the help of your friends.”

“I didn’t …” Chester trailed off at a warning growl from the tiger. “It wasn’t personal.”

“No, it was poaching.” Camden nodded as surprise flickered across the human’s face. “Yes, we know about that.”

Chester’s Adam’s apple bobbed hard.

Aspen cocked her head. “So how does it work?” she asked, her voice clipped. “You snatch the shifter, force them to change into their animal form somehow, and then kill them before stripping them of parts like they’re a stolen car? Or do you do it while they’re alive?”

Chester trained his gaze on the metal bar. “We use a drug to force the shift,” he reluctantly admitted. “Then we inject them with another drug to … put them down.”

Blair stilled. “Put them down? Like they’re ill animals?”

“It’s humane,” Chester weakly insisted.

Luke gave a snort of derision. Like this piece of shit cared what was humane. “Be honest, you kill them with drugs because you want to cause minimal physical damage to their bodies. Damaged parts don’t sell well, I’d imagine.”

Chester’s eyes again bounced from person to person. “You’re all shifters, aren’t you?” It was a shakily spoken realization.

“Your buddy Davis didn’t pick up on that straight away,” Camden told him. “He didn’t want to give us your name at first but, well, it turned out that he didn’t have a high tolerance for pain, so …”

Chester grimaced. “Is he dead?”

“Of course,” said Havana. “In making his little reports to you, he condemned shifters to death. That’s not something we’d ever overlook.”

Bailey leaned over the back of the Ferris wheel car and put her mouth to the human’s ear, making him jump. “I’m awful interested to know who hired you to take Camden’s head and fur,” she said. “Perhaps you could help us with that.”

Chester stiffened, his gaze darting to the side.

“Before you think to lie, remember Tate’s warning,” said Alex.

The human sighed. “I don’t have their name. The deal was done through a broker.”

Luke felt a muscle in his cheek tick. “Well I’m sure you at least have the broker’sname.”

“Myra York,” said Chester.

“And where will we find Myra?” asked Luke.

“She runs a broker firm. Selfridge House Ltd. I don’t know where she lives.”

Blair tipped her head to the side. “And your fellow poachers? Where are they?”

Good question. But the human clamped his lips shut.

Camden took a step closer to him. “I’ll bet you don’t think highly of shifters, do you? There’s no way you could otherwise do the things you do. I know one thing that most humans don’t like about us. It’s that we don’t answer to your laws; that we have our own system of justice. And they really don’t like that that system can be somewhat brutal.

“Here’s just how brutal I can be. I have no problem whatsoever with returning to your home and lying in wait for your wife and child. I have no problem slaughtering them in lieu of the friends you seem intent on protecting.”

Chester’s nostrils flared. “Bastard,” he spat.

“Indeed,” said Camden. “Now choose. Your family, or your friends.”

Luke didn’t for one second believe that the tiger would go after Chester’s wife and child. Camden wasn’t the most ethical of people, but he wouldn’t target innocents. Still, Chester thankfully didn’t seem inclined to call his bluff, because he squeezed his eyes shut and rattled off an address that wasn’t far from the theme park.

“It’s the duplex me and my co-workers use when we’re on jobs,” Chester added. “You’ll find them there.”

“That had better be the truth, Chester,” said Tate. “I’m about to send my Head Enforcer to check the place out. If it turns out you lied, your family will pay for that with their lives.”

Again, it was a false threat. Again, Chester didn’t sense it.

“No lie, you’ll find the other three poachers I work with at the duplex,” he told Tate.

The Alpha turned to Farrell. “Confirm that for me.”

Once the Head Enforcer had disappeared in his avian form, Blair pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll call River and ask him to find out as much as he can about Myra York and Selfridge House.”

Tate dipped his chin in thanks. “Appreciated.”

As she walked away to make the call, he crossed to Luke. “While we wait for Farrell to get in touch,” Tate began, his voice low, “you can tell me why you look ready to burn shit down.”

Luke rolled back his shoulders. He thought about once more blowing his brother off, but Tate wasn’t so easy to sidetrack. And just maybe spitting the words out would help Luke calm the hell down. “We made a trip to her old territory to grab her stuff. We discovered a little something. Whoever’s obsessed with her left claw marks in every room of her old cabin.”

Tate’s jaw hardened, and a growl vibrated in his chest. A growl that Luke’s cat echoed.

“He hid them well, but they’re there,” Luke added. “No scent, though. He clearly wasn’t taking any chances.”

“Can you tell what type of shifter caused the marks?”

“Definitely a bush dog.” Luke flexed his fingers. “More, while Blair was unpacking, she found a letter from him.” He gave his brother a brief summary of it. “The prick truly has convinced himself that she wants him and that my claim to her means nothing. Then again, Noelle holds the latter opinion as well. She felt the need to make it clear that Blair made a mistake in letting me claim her so early.”

Tate frowned. “When?”

“Earlier. And now my cat is pitching an unholy fit—not only because her old cabin was marked and she received that damn letter, but because she’s hurting due to the things Noelle said. He’s showing no signs of calming, and I know that’s because my own anger is fueling his, but I can’t shake it off.”

“No one could simply shake off that their mate is hurting and in danger.” Tate rested his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “He won’t get to Blair. As for Noelle … she’ll back down eventually.”

“That’s what I always thought. I held that belief for six long years. I’m beginning to wonder if it was merely wishful thinking.” He quieted as he noticed his mate heading back to him.

Tucking her phone in her pocket, she looked at Tate, “River said he’ll get straight on it first thing in the morning when he starts his shift.”

Luke gave the back of her neck a squeeze, proud of her for owning her role without hesitation. She no doubt felt that pride through their bond, because her mouth curved slightly. The shadows didn’t clear from her eyes, though.

Feeling driven to comfort and soothe, Luke barely resisted the urge to haul her against him and rain soft kisses all over her face. He wanted to take her home. Feed her. Coddle her. Pet her pain out of her. Wanted to put her to bed and hold her close; remind her that she was loved and cherished. He hated that his attention couldn’t be fully on her right now.

While Bailey and Aspen taunted and poked at Chester merely for something to do, the others waited in silence for Farrell’s call. It eventually came, after which Tate said to Chester, “You were telling the truth. Good. Killing an innocent woman and a child wouldn’t have sat well with us.”

Bailey fisted the human’s hair and wrenched back his head. “What happens next is for all the shifters you’ve killed and butchered over the years so you could sell them to sick fucks who’d likely use them as trophies.”

Havana gave him a pitying smile. “Sadly for you, we don’t have any lethal drugs lying around. We’re not really into ‘humane’ methods of death when it comes to people like you who’ve earned a much worse fate. As such, yeah, this is gonna hurt.”

It turned out that Chester’s tolerance for pain wasn’t much stronger than Davis’s. The poacher mentally checked out at one point, so Luke then swiftly executed him.

“What do we do with what’s left of the body?” asked JP.

“My uncles will be happy to take him off our hands,” said Alex.

Isaiah grunted. “Figured as much.”

Tate twisted his mouth. “We’ll pay Myra York a visit some time tomorrow. I want a little info on her from River first. As for Chester’s friends … they need dealing with now or they’ll get spooked when they realize he’s MIA.”

“I can handle that,” Camden volunteered, evidently wanting vengeance.

“We’ll handle that,” Aspen corrected.

Tate nodded and assigned a few people to go with them. Everyone then began making their way out of the park. Other than Bailey, who was staring into space.

Luke was about to get her attention, but then Deke nudged her and said, “Unless you want to wait for Alex’s uncles and watch them devour the body, get moving.”

Bailey looked up at the enforcer. “You ever think how crazy it is that the T-Rex’s closest non-extinct relative is the chicken?”

Deke blinked. “No. No, I never think about it at all.”

“You don’t? Well that’s weird.”

He frowned. “No, it ain’t. I doubt many people think about it.”

“That’s their problem.” The mamba walked off.

Trailing after her, Deke said, “I don’t see how it’s an actual problem.”

“Also not my problem, Eye Candy.”

A low growl. “You know my name. Use it.”

“Why?”

Her lips twitching, Blair cast a concerned glance at Luke. “You’re a little calmer, but your cat isn’t. What can I do?”

Warmth flooding his chest, he gave her hand a soft squeeze. “You’re doing it just by existing. He’ll settle down once we’re away from here and he and I have you to ourselves.”

“Good,” she said. “I want to go home, unpack the rest of my things, and then fuck you stupid.”

His body tightened. “Is that so?”

“It very much is. Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”

He felt his lips quirk. “Oh, I don’t doubt that I will.”

Finished dabbing on a light layer of makeup the next morning, Blair carefully returned her cosmetics to her pallas cat-themed case—a novelty gift from Elle. It turned out that Blair had been right to assume that her inner animal would lose some of her edginess once Blair unpacked all her possessions. Shifters were innately territorial. It was important for them to have their own territory, even if that was merely an apartment. It anchored them. And although the place already felt like home to both Blair and her inner female, this made it more official.

Blair’s gaze flew to the mirror as she noticed Luke entering the en suite bathroom. Pressing his front to her back, he snaked his arms around her and nuzzled her neck, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“What has you feeling so smug?” she asked, though she could guess.

“I like seeing all your things mingled with mine. Some were already here, I know. But this is different. It’s not about you leaving little touches here and there. You’re all moved in, you’ve made the space fully ours. I like it. Like how easily our lives clicked together.”

She felt her brow crease slightly at the latter comment. “You worried that they wouldn’t?”

“I thought it might take some time before they did. You’ve had a lot to adjust to. You had to leave your home, your territory, and your pack. You had to take on not only me but the role of Beta female—I can’t even say for sure which of the two is the trickiest. More, it all happened fast, and you’ve barely had time to settle into mated life thanks to how much is going on.”

It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d worry she was a little overwhelmed. Turning in his arms, she curved her own around his neck. “I always knew those changes would come. I knew they’d happen in quick succession. I guess, for you, it all came out of nowhere—you expected us to bond later down the line. You had no idea that my mother had invited your ex bed-buddy to Sylvan territory, spurring me into speeding things along, until only a few nights ago.”

He squinted. “Something I’m still pissed about.”

Ignoring that, she continued, “But it wasn’t sudden for me. I was ready. I’d been ready for weeks. Not simply for change, but to embrace it. And I have. It hasn’t been a hardship. I don’t have any regrets.”

His expression went all warm and lazy. “No?”

“No. So don’t let my mother get in your head.”

“It isn’t about her, baby. It just sometimes hits me how much you’ve given up for me and our bond.”

“I don’t see it as making sacrifices. You long ago offered to join the pack rather than transfer me here. I vetoed that, because I knew that—as much as I hated it—the pack would never make you feel fully welcome. They wouldn’t have given you the rank you deserve either.” They were too distrustful of other breeds of shifter, and Luke was far too dominant to have been content with being a mere member of the pack.

“Their attitudes might have altered over time.”

“But not enough for Embry to have made you Beta or even Head Enforcer. You wouldn’t have been happy there. Here in the pride, you’re happy. I knew I could be happy here, too. I like how the pride is run. I like its members—well, most of them. And I outright adore your family. It was really a no-brainer that you and I would be better off here than in my old pack. Plus, I need distance from Noelle if I’m to have any chance of living a life that doesn’t involve her attempting to control it.”

“On that, we agree.” Luke knew that if he had joined the Sylvan Pack, there would have been constant drama. Because while he understood why Noelle felt driven to hold Blair so tight, he would never excuse it. If they had lived in close proximity to Noelle, he would have found himself arguing with the woman every time she tried imposing her will on Blair.

“When I say that it’s been no hardship to make the changes I’ve made, I mean it. You have never simply been a mere part of my life, Luke. You’re the most important thing in it. You have been since the moment you found me—or I found you. Whatever. Having you in my life has always been as easy as breathing. Always will be. Okay?”

His chest squeezed, and he felt his face soften. “Okay, baby.” His cat pressed against his skin, straining to be closer to her. Thinking that wasn’t such a bad idea, Luke drew her closer and fit his lips to hers. He sipped from her mouth, slow and shallow and sensual.

Sometimes, the knowledge that she was finally officially his hit him like a slap. It hadn’t fully sunk in yet. As she’d said, the whole thing was pretty sudden for him. Not that he had a single complaint.

She nipped at his bottom lip. “We should let our animals run together later. It would do them good.”

His cat perked up at that. “We’ll make it happen.”

Just then, her phone began to chime. His gut hardened. She’d changed her cell number, but he was still uneasy each time her phone rang; still wondered if just maybe her harasser had obtained that number somehow.

She glanced at the screen of her cell. “It’s River.” She slid her thumb over the screen and answered, “Hello.”

“I have news,” declared River with no preamble.

Hearing his pride mate’s voice, Luke relaxed.

“Selfridge House is located on Elmhurst Avenue.”

Blair hummed. “So not too far away, then.”

“Get this: Myra Rogers has shifter blood.”

Both Luke and Blair stilled. Damn, he hadn’t seen that coming.

“Shifter blood?” she asked.

“Yes,” said River. “Her mother is half wolf.”

“And yet Myra has no issue brokering deals that lead to shifters being poached?” Blair snorted and shook her head.

“I trust you’ll pass on the news to our Alphas.”

“I will. Thanks, River.” She hung up. “I take it you heard all that.”

Luke nodded. “I wasn’t expecting the latter piece of news.”

“Me neither. Maybe she has beef with her mom or something—I don’t know.” Her nose wrinkling, Blair tilted her head. “Why is it that you look close to smiling?”

Luke settled his hands on her hips. “It pleases me that River called you with the information.”

She frowned. “Well, it was me who asked him to look into Myra and her firm.”

“Sure, but he wouldn’t have reported directly to you unless he and his animal acknowledged you as their Beta female. It’s one thing for people to accept you. It’s another for them to recognize your authority.”

“Huh, I guess so.” She shrugged. “Well, they all need to get with the program, because I don’t want to go through one dramatic scene after another just to make my point like I did at the Tavern.” She paused. “Now we need to call Tate and bring him up to speed.”

“Then get to it.” It was her news to relay, after all.

Her brows inched up. “All right.”

Not long after she’d updated Tate, a bunch of the pride were gathering at the Alpha pair’s house at his request. It didn’t take long for them to agree on a plan of action. But it wasn’t until later that day, when Selfridge House would soon be due to close, that they acted on that plan.

Parked not far away from the firm, Luke watched as yet another person left. When Farrell had minutes ago taken a good look through the windows while in his avian form, there were only six people in the building.

At this point, only three remained.

Their hope was that Myra would be the last to leave, given it was her firm. If so, she would soon be alone in the building, and then they could sneak inside before she had the chance to vacate it. But if not, they’d simply follow her home and deal with her there.

Riding shotgun, Blair once more glanced at her cell screen, studying the photo of Myra that River sent her. “She looks so sweet. Like a kindergarten teacher or something. You’d never think she brokers shifter poaching deals. I don’t know how people can do that and still sleep at night.”

Luke lightly squeezed her thigh. “Me neither. I’ve come to believe that there are some people in this world who somehow don’t have a soul. Or, if such a thing is possible, that their soul is quite simply dead.”

“You know, I don’t find any of that hard to agree—Hold up, someone else is leaving. A woman. Not Myra, though.”

Soon, another person left.

“And then there was one,” said Luke. He peeked through the gap between the headrests, sweeping his gaze over the group in the rear of the SUV. “She’s officially alone. We need to move now.”

As they’d earlier agreed on, Alex led the way since—as a wolverine—there was no lock or security system that could keep him out. He easily tackled the lock on the building’s rear door, and then they all filed inside.

Tate nodded at Bailey, who then headed to the front entrance to secure it closed from the inside. With that done, they all followed the sound of a woman’s voice up the stairs and onto the second floor. Guessing Myra was on the phone, they waited outside her office for her to finish the call before they entered.

In the process of slipping papers into the drawers of her mahogany desk, it took Myra a few moments to sense that she wasn’t alone. When she did, her entire body went still. For all of five seconds. She then jumped to her feet, her eyes wide with outrage. “What the hell? You can’t just walk on up here. Who are you people?”

As they all fanned out in front of the desk, Tate replied, “The kind who don’t like it when humans help people get their hands on shifter fur and body parts.”

Myra tensed, her indignation quickly replaced by uneasiness.

“Not a safe occupation by any means,” said Luke, his inner cat snarling at her. “You had to have known someone would come for you sooner or later.”

Her lips trembling slightly, Myra gave an aloof shrug and sank back into her chair, going for cool and uncaring. “I had hoped it would be a case of ‘later.’”

Blair cocked her head. “You got mommy issues or something?”

Myra blinked. “W-what?”

“Well she’s half shifter,” said Blair. “That should surely make you supremely opposed to shifter poaching. But it would seem not. Why?” Because Blair just didn’t get it. Then again, she didn’t get how anyone could involve themselves in such a thing.

Myra swiped her tongue along her lower lip. “It’s just business.”

Aspen wagged a finger at her and tutted. “That right there was a lie,” she said, voicing Blair’s thought.

Her face hardening, Myra jutted out her chin. “Having shifter DNA isn’t necessarily something to be proud of. You all like to think that you’re better than humans, but you’re not.”

Havana pursed her lips. “We don’t think we’re better than all humans. But people like you, yeah, we’re sure as shit better than you.”

“Shifters are just as prejudiced against humans as humans are of them. My mother was kicked out of her pack at the age of nineteen simply for imprinting on a human—my father. And they sent her away when she returned after he died. It didn’t matter that she had a six-year-old daughter at her side. Not to them. They didn’t give a shit. Nor did they come to her funeral after she died a few days later—the snapping of her imprint bond was too much for her, you see.”

Bailey frowned. “So just because one pack of asshole wolves fucked over you and your mom, every other shifter in the world is also a supreme twat who deserves to die?”

“I didn’t say they all deserve to die.” Myra rested her clasped hands on her lap, her knuckles white. “I simply don’t care if they do die. You shifters have no real sense of humanity in you. You’re more animal than anything else. You just hide it well from most of the population.”

Camden hummed. “It’s good that you recognize how ruthless we are, because you’ll know I’m not bluffing when I tell you that if you don’t answer our questions honestly, we’ll subject you to a truck load of agony the likes of which you can’t imagine exists.”

Myra huffed. “Don’t expect cooperation. I have no incentive to tell you anything—there’s no way you’ll allow me to live. Even if you offered me some sort of deal I’d never believe you’d honor it, so I guess that leaves us at a stalemate.”

“No. No, it really doesn’t,” said Havana. “Bailey.”

The mamba didn’t bother stripping. She shifted instantly, and her snake then slithered out of the clothes that puddled on the floor.

Myra froze, her face losing some of its color, but she continued with the cool and indifferent act.

Deciding this bitch needed shaking up a little, Blair crossed to the desk. Bending over, she braced her elbow on the surface of the desk, and leaned her face into her palm. “It must be hard.”

Myra flicked her the smallest glance, loathed to remove her gaze from the mamba. “Excuse me?”

“To be you, I mean. I personally would hate it if, too insecure and afraid to face who I truly am, I lived in a false reality.” Blair exhaled a sigh of mock sympathy. “You sit in that big ole fancy chair, the queen of your kingdom, wielding power over shifters—condemning at least one to death per day. You believe it makes you strong. That it proves you’re superior to your mother’s old pack mates, all of whom are clueless to the power you hold over their kind.” Blair gave her a pitying look, knowing it would cut her to the quick. “Really, though, you’re just a lost little girl who feels weak and lonely and abandoned.”

Red stained the human’s cheekbones. “Shut up.”

Blair noted the white mark on Myra’s third finger. “Divorced, huh? I suppose you couldn’t have been an easy wife. Controlling, I’d wager. Definitely needy. Overly critical, too, I suspect. I’ll bet you were always finding faults in your ex. And most likely unable to celebrate his successes because it made you feel threatened in comparison.”

“Shut up,” Myra snarled.

“He probably felt like he was constantly walking on eggshells around you. I’m sure all that bitterness you carry didn’t help matters.” Blair narrowed her eyes. “Was it before or after the divorce that you decided to go so heavy on the Botox and plastic surgery? That nose, wow, it’s so narrow I don’t even know how you can breathe through it. It’s got to be a medical marvel.”

“Shut up.”

Blair offered her a sad smile. “You probably thought your face lift, reconstructed nose, and boob job would make you feel better about yourself. They didn’t, though, did they? Of course they didn’t. Because in truth, it isn’t your surface that you find so ugly, it’s what’s inside. Though, to be real, you’re not much of a looker, are you?”

Snarling again, Myra jerked toward Blair. Maybe she’d have done more, maybe she wouldn’t have. They’d never know, because Bailey’s mamba—who’d climbed onto the desk while the human was distracted—let out an unholy hiss and lurched toward Myra. The bitch jumped in her seat, and Blair could hear the woman’s heartbeat gallop like crazy in her chest.

Blair hummed. “I don’t think she likes you, Myra. But then … does anyone? Really?”

The human’s nostrils flared, but she kept her eyes on the mamba. “Fuck you.”

“Hoping to cling to your dignity,” Blair sensed. “Admirable. Also impossible because, well, Bailey’s venom is gonna put you through the ringer. We’re talking stomach cramps, diarrhea, vomiting galore. You’ll soon be sitting in a puddle of your own piss, puke, and shit. Are you much of a sobber? I hope so. It’ll make the photos look even better. Because yes, I’ll be taking pictures. Lots and lots of ’em. Maybe even a video. Yeah, that would work.”

“Or you could just answer our questions and suffer a swift execution,” Luke cut in, his voice holding no trace of the amusement that skipped down their bond. “We want the name of the person who tried hiring poachers to get themselves some white tiger fur, and we want the records of other poach-hiring clients. More, we’ll do absolutely anything to get those things. Anything. To you, that is. If you want to suffer for a while, we can make that happen. But I promise you’ll regret not being straight with us right from the outset. I know Chester Wilkins sure was. He and his friends died hard, if you’re interested. So, what’ll it be?”