CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A puff of hot air blasted Bailey’s face as she pulled open the dryer door. Nice. She wafted it away and then began pulling out her warm clothes and dumping them in the washing basket beside her.

Her building’s laundromat facilitates were located in the basement. Rows of industrial washing machines and dryers lined one of the off-white walls. The air would have been uncomfortably hot if it wasn’t for the overhead fans and the air conditioning. Particularly since the small, high windows always remained closed.

Humming to herself, she crossed to one of the folding tables, pushed aside the stray glove sitting there, and then set down her basket. Still humming, she tossed the dryer sheet in the garbage can beside the vending machine that contained detergent, softener, dryer sheets, and even snacks for those intending to hang around while their clothes finished their cycles.

Personally, Bailey didn’t like hanging around here. It wasn’t exactly a relaxing place to sit. The plastic chairs weren’t comfortable, and it was damn noisy. The whirring of the dryers and ceiling rotary fans blended with the gurgling of the washing machines and the tings of buttons and zips clacking against the metal drums.

As Bailey returned to her clean laundry, the creaking of hinges made her peer over her shoulder.

Carrying a basket overflowing with clothes, Cassandra strolled inside. Her step faltered when she noticed Bailey. “Oh, hey.”

“Yo.”

The feline made a beeline for a spare washing machine, the heels of her shoes clicking along the tiled floor that needed a good brush. The bright florescent lighting bore down on the pieces of lint and particles of detergent powder.

Bailey lifted a tee out of the basket, wrinkling her nose as a little static zapped her fingers. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but I’m not good at comforting people.”

“Comforting?” Emptying her basket of clothes into a washing machine, Cassandra looked at her askance. “Most people want to snipe at me, not offer comfort.” Sighing, she closed the machine’s door a little too roughly. “To be fair, they’re right to be mad at me.”

Bailey snapped out her tee and then neatly folded it. “I don’t know about that. I mean, it isn’t your fault that Sam likes you more than you do him. That sort of thing happens.” She placed her tee on the table and then plucked another out of the basket. “And there’s nothing you can do to change that your cat wasn’t along for the ride.” Still, most of the pride considered her public enemy number one.

“But I shouldn’t have agreed to date him,” muttered Cassandra, adding detergent. “I knew she was unlikely to accept him.”

“Did you warn him of that in advance?”

“Yes.”

“Then he knew where he stood with you from the beginning.” Bailey placed her newly folded tee on top of the other. “You were clear that things might not work out.”

“The way some see it, I gave him false hope by giving in to his pushy attempts to convince me to go on a date. That wasn’t my intention. I just thought we could maybe give it a shot.”

“I personally don’t see any wrong in it. It’s how most couples end up together.” She and Deke had done it. “No one knows from the outset how it’s all gonna play out, do they? There’s always a risk it’ll go bad. Sam knew that even without you warning him.”

Having added softener, Cassandra whipped a coin out of her pocket. “The way he’s acting, you’d think I’d pledged to be at his side forever.”

Bailey added a sock to her fast-growing pile. “He’s hurt, and his ego probably isn’t all too happy either.” It likely didn’t help that everyone was all Poor Sam. No one wanted to be pitied when they were dumped.

“I hate that he’s hurting. I never wanted that. Everyone’s acting like I set out to do it.”

“They’re just super protective of him. Shifters usually are toward healers.”

Clearing her throat, Cassandra jerked her head to the side to move her bangs away from her face. “On a whole other note … how are things going with you and Deke?”

“Couldn’t be better.”

“The imprinting is progressing, then?”

“Not in leaps and bounds, but a little.” Every now and then, she’d feel a spark of emotion that wasn’t her own. So she didn’t doubt that she’d soon be able to tap into his emotions at all times.

“That’s good.” Cassandra briefly grimaced at the speckles of powder on her fingertips as the washing machine came to life. “I wouldn’t worry about it being so gradual. I know a couple whose imprinting process was sluggish, then all of a sudden pow the bond clicked into place.”

“I’m not worried. The bond will form when it forms.”

Silence fell as Cassandra washed her hands in the stainless steel sink. As she tugged some paper towels from a dispenser, she turned back to Bailey. “I could tell that you guys were attracted to each other back when you first met, but I didn’t foresee you mating.”

“I’m pretty sure no one did other than Livy—she swears she knew I’d be perfect for him.”

Cassandra’s lips pressed into a thin line. “There was a time she swore I was ‘the one’ for Deke,” she said a little too casually. “It was back when I helped him through a touch-hunger phase. She only started all that because she wanted to pull him away from Dayna, though. Livy didn’t care who she pushed him toward so long as they convinced him to pull out of the vow.”

Carefully folding a camisole, Bailey felt her eyes narrow. “Did you think you were ‘the one’ for him?”

“God, no.” Cassandra flapped her hand and tossed the balled-up, wet paper towels in the trash can. “Don’t misunderstand me, he’s a great guy. He’s not someone I can see myself in a relationship with, though.” She said it as though it would otherwise be a possibility. Like he wasn’t very much permanently unavailable.

Feeling her lips twitch, Bailey planted her hands on the table. “You’re one of the people who think me and Deke are destined to crash and burn, huh?”

Cassandra blinked. “That amuses you?”

“Sorta.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Sure.”

“Then why?” Cassandra prodded.

“Oh, well, dominant females don’t like to be wrong ever. They get all sulky when it happens. And, you see, you’re wrong.”

“You really are very confident that you and Deke will make it work, aren’t you?”

“Well, I have no intention of letting him go, so …”

Cassandra’s mouth curled. “I like that he has someone who won’t let him doubt his worth to them. You clearly won’t do that, unlike a certain female I could mention.”

Bailey grabbed a hoodie from the basket. “Let’s not mention her.”

“Okay, I’m good with that.” Cassandra paused as a machine buzzed loud, the tumbling laundry abruptly cutting off. “Well, I need to get going. See you later.”

“Later.” Bailey winced as she touched the hoodie’s boiling hot zipper. Rookie mistake. She dumped the piece of clothing on her pile and then blew on her smarting finger. Once the sting faded, she fished a tank out of her basket and folded it.

Hinges creaked again. She placed her tank on the pile and went to look—

A threatening whizz of sound. A sharp piercing sensation in her back.

Bailey whirled fast with a hiss of fury, her snake unfurling in an instant.

A familiar person stood at the door, tranquilizer gun in hand. Motherfucker. Disbelief beating at her, she lunged toward them—or would have. A dart buried itself in her chest before she had the chance. She ragged it out and again went to lunge … but then a heavy lethargy began to descend on her while a tingling feeling skipped over her skin.

Colors smudged as her vision blurred and darkened. Feeling like she was wading through concrete, she took one shaky step. And another. And another. But then her knees buckled, her legs gave out, and she landed hard on her ass.

The world tumbled and shook and spun as her head swam, her belly churned, and her body became dead weight. Then darkness pulled her under.

Luke’s brows flew up. “Really? Wow.”

Standing in the lobby of his building, Deke frowned. “Why ‘wow’?” He didn’t think it would be considered surprising that his own mate would have agreed to move in with him.

“I thought she might fight you on it. Mostly just to screw with you.”

“It may seem like life is a joke to Bailey, but she takes the things that matter seriously,” Deke told him, feeling defensive on her behalf.

“Yeah, I sensed that about her,” the Beta assured him. “You can see it in the way she’s so dedicated to her position as Havana’s bodyguard. Well, maybe you didn’t see it at first. You initially seemed to have a blind spot where she was concerned.”

Deke felt his mouth tighten, annoyed he couldn’t deny it. “I resented her for making me want what I couldn’t have.”

“Ah. I suppose I should have seen that.” Luke tilted his head. “How did she manage to work around your cat’s earlier aversion to physical contact?”

“In a way that only Bailey could have made work.”

Luke snickered. “How’s your cat doing these days?”

“Better now that he no longer feels alone. That was at the crux of his problem. He was lonely, and so he began feeling bitter when others around him mated. Then he became angry at himself for that bitterness. So he pulled back from everyone, which only made the loneliness worse. It was a vicious cycle.”

“I think it’s easy for us to take for granted how difficult it can be for our animals when they have no mate to anchor them. Just because they don’t experience the full range of human emotions doesn’t mean they don’t feel things very deeply and acutely.”

Deke nodded. “Loneliness creeps up on them way sooner than it does on us.”

“An animal like your cat, who grew up in a home where he was the only non-dominant, will have felt very alone in many ways. That would have made him crave finding an equal and being part of something.”

That was exactly how his cat had felt. “Now that he has what he wants, I don’t foresee him having another ‘nobody come near me episode.’ The only thing bugging him of late is that the imprinting bond hasn’t yet formed. He’s simply impatient to be fully mated to Bailey.”

Luke’s mouth hitched up. “I’ll bet you’re just as impatient.”

Deke smiled, unrepentant. “Of course I am.” His smile faded as he looked out the window and caught sight of Gerard and Isaiah carrying a limp Dayna toward the front door. “What the fuck?”

Swearing beneath his breath, Luke yanked open the door to let them in.

“We need either Helena or Sam,” said Gerard, urgency coating every syllable. “Please get one of them down here fast.”

Luke pulled out his phone. “On it.”

Isaiah and Gerard placed a seemingly out-cold Dayna on the lobby’s sofa. It was only then that Deke got a good look at her. He felt his lips part in shock. Her face was swollen and badly bruised. More, she had one hell of a gut wound … like she’d been sliced deep by a knife or claw. “Jesus Christ. What in the shit happened?”

“We don’t know,” said Isaiah. “She was in her car outside. I saw Gerard making a mad sprint to the vehicle and followed him. We found her like this. I think she’s been drugged. I found this near the pedals.” He held up a tranquilizer dart.

Luke took it from him and sniffed the tip. “Pretty sure it’s the drug that not only knocks you out but temporarily suppresses your ability to shift.”

“A scrambler was used,” Isaiah chipped in. “Whoever shot her in her car covered their tracks.”

Luke swore again. “I’ll call our Alphas.”

Deke turned to Gerard. “Why were you running for her car?”

“She called me,” the other male replied, kneeling beside her, his gaze locked on her face. “She said she was in her car in the lot. But her voice was all slurry and weak and … Goddammit, look at her.” He scraped a hand through his hair.

Deke took a step toward him. “What exactly did Dayna say on the phone?”

Gerard swiped a hand down his face. “She said my name. Twice. Told me where to find her. Then I guess she passed out.”

Just then, the elevator pinged.

Helena came rushing out of it and went straight to Dayna.

Vera followed at a more sedate pace, her eyes widening when she clocked the state of the female on the sofa. “What in the world …” She touched her neck. “Will she be all right?”

“She will now,” said Helena, using her healing skills as they spoke. “Who did this?”

Luke shrugged, pocketing his phone. “We don’t know yet.”

Vera let out a humph. “I think we all know who’d happily do this to Dayna.”

Deke felt himself stiffen. “Don’t even think about pinning the blame on my mate for this.”

“She’s perfectly capable of hurting someone this way,” Vera insisted, though she lowered her gaze.

“It wasn’t her,” Deke stated, his cat rising to his feet with a snarl.

Vera stroked her wrist. “How can you be sure?”

“Because she’s in the basement doing laundry.” Alone, he thought. She was alone. While someone was wandering around with a tranquilizer gun.

Unease making his heartbeat pick up, he whipped out his phone and called her. No answer. He tried again. Still no answer.

“What is it?” asked Isaiah, sidling up to him.

Deke felt his nostrils flare. “Bailey’s not answering.” Egged on by his cat, he ran down the hall, passing the elevators, and skirted the corner. Instantly, an overpoweringly floral scent shot to his head like brain-freeze. Scrambler.

His gut knotting, he realized the whole area here—all the way to the nearby side exit—had been sprayed with it.

He vaulted down the basement stairs and then threw open the door. His stomach sank. No Bailey. Her basket sat on one of the folding tables beside a pile of clothes. Her cell phone lay on the floor. More, the usual scents of warm fabric, chemicals, bleach, and hot metal were absent, buried beneath the scrambler’s floral smell.

His cat lost it, letting out rumbly growls that were so loud Deke’s ears rang.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. With panic flapping inside him like a crazed bird and his heart pounding a mile a minute, Deke flicked the security camera a quick glance and then darted back up the stairs. He shoved open the side exit door, finding the alley empty. The scrambler’s scent trail ended here, but there was no sign that a vehicle was parked there recently.

Hurrying toward the security office, he called Finley, knowing she was on perimeter duty.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Have you seen anything of Bailey?”

A surprised pause. “No, nothing.”

He clenched his free hand into a fist. “Who has exited the building in the last half hour?”

“Um, I don’t know. I don’t keep track. I noticed a few. Valentina. Evander. My sister. That’s all.”

“Did you see any vehicles parked in the side alley of my building?”

“No, not while I was passing.”

Cursing again, Deke hung up as he burst into the security office. Ignoring the sickly strong floral scents—fucking scramblers—he focused on the wall-mounted monitors. Nothing but black screens.

Deke spat several harsh expletives and slammed his hand on the desk. He switched the CCTV back on and then dialed Tate’s number as he rushed back to the lobby. “Where are you?”

“On my way,” replied the Alpha, sounding like he was running.

Deke swallowed, trying and failing to beat back the dread and panic that battled for supremacy inside him and his cat. “I’m pretty sure whoever attacked Dayna has Bailey.”

Tate swore. “We’re almost there.”

Deke ended the call just as he reached the lobby. “They have Bailey,” he announced to no one in particular. “Whoever did this has her.”

Luke gaped. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Deke bit out, shoving his cell back in his pocket. “She’s gone. Her phone is still there. And a scrambler was used—its trail ended in the side alley.”

“Son of a bitch.” Luke reached back to clasp his nape. “The cameras—”

“Were all turned off,” Deke finished, putting his hands to his head. “I switched them back on.”

“So, what, this was supposed to be a distraction?” Luke asked, waving a hand toward Dayna—who was now healed but still unconscious. “A way to keep us focused on something else so they could take Bailey?”

“That was more than a distraction. It was personal.” Dayna had taken some brutal hits … and whoever did it to her might well do the same to Bailey.

Deke swallowed around the hard lump of dread in his throat. He wanted to race outside, hop in his car, and find her … But driving aimlessly would achieve nothing. It wouldn’t help her.

“Bailey being gone only adds weight to the idea that she did this to Dayna,” claimed Vera. “She could have set this up to look like she’d been taken.”

Grinding his teeth as a wave of anger washed over him, Deke glared at the woman. “If Bailey wanted to hurt Dayna, she’d do it. But she wouldn’t do it on the sly. That’s not who she is. She’d own what she’d done.”

“Like it or not, this stinks of Bailey,” Vera persisted. “Mambas are merciless creatures. They always get even. No one else would want to hurt Dayna this way.”

Growling, Deke made a move toward the woman. He halted when Luke slid between them and said, “Vera, you’re letting your personal issues with Bailey color your opinions here. If you’ve got nothing helpful to say, get the hell out of here.”

Her back snapping straight, the woman marched out of the building.

Dragging in a breath that should have been calming but failed, Deke rubbed at his face. “She’s probably not the only one who’ll think that way.”

“Probably not,” agreed Isaiah. “But the majority won’t. It’s a well-known fact that Bailey owns her shit. Someone else has beef with Dayna. Someone who also has an issue with Bailey. Who?”

Deke crossed to the male still kneeling at Dayna’s feet. “Gerard? Gerard?” Finally, the male looked up at him. “Do you have any idea who did this?”

He shook his head, but his eyes flickered.

Deke tensed. “You know something. You do.”

Gerard licked his lips. “I-I’m not sure—”

“Who would have done it?”

He dropped his head. “It can’t have been her,” he said more to himself.

“Who?”

“She was pissed when I told her, but she wouldn’t have done something like this.”

“Who?” Deke growled.

“The plan was simple. So simple. The results were supposed to be simple. But no one reacted how they should have. Nothing went as it should have.”

Deke fisted the back of the guy’s long-sleeved tee and yanked him to his feet, pinning his gaze. “What fucking plan?”

The front door swung open and slammed into the wall.

The Alphas rushed inside with Aspen and Camden on their heels.

Tate took in the scene. “What happened here?”

“I don’t know,” replied Deke through his teeth. “But Gerard here knows something.”

Havana folded her arms, her face a mask of rage. “Spill.”

And then Gerard began to talk.