“I missed it, too.” A soft suction sounded over the phone, then a low-pitched hum met my ears. Kevin had just opened a refrigerator. The bastard was having a snack while he taunted me!
Did that mean he was at home? Did he already know we’d been through his stuff and taken the tracker? Was he just stringing me along? I shot a desperate look at Jace, but he only shrugged. Either he didn’t know what I was thinking, or he didn’t have the answers to my unspoken questions.
Kevin continued, oblivious to my silent panic. “By the time I got there this afternoon, there was nothing left but a burnt patch of grass on the side of the road. But then I noticed a break in the tree line, like several people had stomped through the woods.”
“Weird.” My coat was too thick to be worn indoors, and I was starting to sweat, either from the warmth or from nerves.
“I know!” Kevin exclaimed too brightly, and suddenly I was tired of our role-playing, and ready for him to cut to the proverbial chase. But Kevin liked to hear himself talk. “And it gets weirder from there. I found blood on the ground near that break in the trees, from two different strays. I assume you know whose blood I found?”
I threw my hands in the air. “Kevin, this is stupid. Cut the shit and get to the point.”
Jace groaned and let his forehead fall into his hand; evidently he would have handled it differently.
“Who’s with you?” Kevin asked, and I glared at Jace for giving away their presence. “It’s Jace, right?” Kevin guessed, and I inhaled sharply in surprise. How the hell had he known that? “Obviously it’s not Ethan. I hear the youngest Sanders tom met with an unfortunate end this morning.”
This morning? Had it really been less than a day? It felt like forever since Ethan died, yet each second seemed to slip away from me faster than the last, time sliding rapidly through my fingers like a rope burning my palm. Hearing my dead brother’s name spoken in Kevin Mitchell’s irreverent voice made me want to reach through his stomach and pull his intestines out inch by excruciating inch.
A growl rumbled from my throat before I could stop it, and on the edge of my vision, Jace’s fist flew. An instant later, his travel mug hit the wall, leaving a cupshaped dent in the Sheetrock and splattering still-steaming coffee over the wall and floor. Obviously furious and hurting, Jace suddenly seemed to take up more room than he should have, like a cat whose fur is standing on end. It was an angry-Alpha pose, and I would have been impressed if I weren’t just as pissed and wounded as he was.
Kevin laughed into my ear. “Tell Jace I said hi.”
“What do you want?” I demanded, and had to make myself loosen my grip on my phone before I crushed it.
“I just wanted to extend my sympathy for what happened to your brother—so sad—and to assure you that nothing so tragic has happened to Marc. Yet.”
What? Shock jolted through me, and my heart hammered against my sternum. “You’re bluffing.” But my voice came out weak with doubt, and we all heard it. I cleared my throat and tried again, pacing quickly now to burn off the fury racing through my veins with each beat of my heart. “You don’t have Marc. Pete Yarnell said he was dead.” And hopefully Kevin would think I believed that.
“And that’s what we truly thought at the time. Until I followed that trail of blood through the woods and discovered Adam’s lonely, unmarked grave. And I suspect the trail was even easier for us to follow than it was for you, thanks to the path you broke. What’d you do, march an elephant through there?”
No, just four werecats in sturdy boots.
“You disinterred your own…friend?” Or fellow henchman. Or evil sidekick. Or…whatever. Shivers of disgust raised chill bumps all over my arms and legs, in spite of the winter coat I still wore. The only task worse than burying a body was unburying one.
“You didn’t leave us much choice. We had to verify that it was really Adam in that hole. And it was, as you know, which means Marc was still out in the woods somewhere. Fortunately, finding him was easier than I expected. Remind me later, and I’ll explain to you just how we did that.”
My eyebrows shot up and a satisfied smile bloomed on my face. Kevin didn’t know we knew about the chips, much less that we could track them! Which meant he wasn’t at home. But he’d figure all of that out the minute he stepped into his own house. So we couldn’t let that happen.
“Why don’t you tell me now?” I asked, stalling for time as I pinned the phone between my shoulder and my ear, then dug the chip tracker from my pocket. I typed Eckard’s code into it again, this time from memory.
Kevin chuckled. “How ‘bout I show you instead? Meet me at my house in an hour, and—”
“No!” I shouted, as the screen in front of me disappeared, only to be replaced a moment later with a progress bar and the word Loading…
Damn it! I hadn’t meant to be so obviously opposed to the meeting place. The gears in my brain whirred to life louder than the rush of my own pulse, scrambling for a good cover. “Someplace public. There’s no way we’re giving you home-field advantage.”
The loading screen dissolved, and new coordinates appeared, but I could tell nothing from the longitude and latitude, so I pressed the Map View button, and the progress bar appeared again as the new page loaded.
“You’re right.” Kevin chuckled again, and I was starting to truly hate the sound of his laughter. “Because you’re coming alone. If you don’t, Marc’s dead.”
Did that mean he was at home? Did he already know we’d been through his stuff and taken the tracker? Was he just stringing me along? I shot a desperate look at Jace, but he only shrugged. Either he didn’t know what I was thinking, or he didn’t have the answers to my unspoken questions.
Kevin continued, oblivious to my silent panic. “By the time I got there this afternoon, there was nothing left but a burnt patch of grass on the side of the road. But then I noticed a break in the tree line, like several people had stomped through the woods.”
“Weird.” My coat was too thick to be worn indoors, and I was starting to sweat, either from the warmth or from nerves.
“I know!” Kevin exclaimed too brightly, and suddenly I was tired of our role-playing, and ready for him to cut to the proverbial chase. But Kevin liked to hear himself talk. “And it gets weirder from there. I found blood on the ground near that break in the trees, from two different strays. I assume you know whose blood I found?”
I threw my hands in the air. “Kevin, this is stupid. Cut the shit and get to the point.”
Jace groaned and let his forehead fall into his hand; evidently he would have handled it differently.
“Who’s with you?” Kevin asked, and I glared at Jace for giving away their presence. “It’s Jace, right?” Kevin guessed, and I inhaled sharply in surprise. How the hell had he known that? “Obviously it’s not Ethan. I hear the youngest Sanders tom met with an unfortunate end this morning.”
This morning? Had it really been less than a day? It felt like forever since Ethan died, yet each second seemed to slip away from me faster than the last, time sliding rapidly through my fingers like a rope burning my palm. Hearing my dead brother’s name spoken in Kevin Mitchell’s irreverent voice made me want to reach through his stomach and pull his intestines out inch by excruciating inch.
A growl rumbled from my throat before I could stop it, and on the edge of my vision, Jace’s fist flew. An instant later, his travel mug hit the wall, leaving a cupshaped dent in the Sheetrock and splattering still-steaming coffee over the wall and floor. Obviously furious and hurting, Jace suddenly seemed to take up more room than he should have, like a cat whose fur is standing on end. It was an angry-Alpha pose, and I would have been impressed if I weren’t just as pissed and wounded as he was.
Kevin laughed into my ear. “Tell Jace I said hi.”
“What do you want?” I demanded, and had to make myself loosen my grip on my phone before I crushed it.
“I just wanted to extend my sympathy for what happened to your brother—so sad—and to assure you that nothing so tragic has happened to Marc. Yet.”
What? Shock jolted through me, and my heart hammered against my sternum. “You’re bluffing.” But my voice came out weak with doubt, and we all heard it. I cleared my throat and tried again, pacing quickly now to burn off the fury racing through my veins with each beat of my heart. “You don’t have Marc. Pete Yarnell said he was dead.” And hopefully Kevin would think I believed that.
“And that’s what we truly thought at the time. Until I followed that trail of blood through the woods and discovered Adam’s lonely, unmarked grave. And I suspect the trail was even easier for us to follow than it was for you, thanks to the path you broke. What’d you do, march an elephant through there?”
No, just four werecats in sturdy boots.
“You disinterred your own…friend?” Or fellow henchman. Or evil sidekick. Or…whatever. Shivers of disgust raised chill bumps all over my arms and legs, in spite of the winter coat I still wore. The only task worse than burying a body was unburying one.
“You didn’t leave us much choice. We had to verify that it was really Adam in that hole. And it was, as you know, which means Marc was still out in the woods somewhere. Fortunately, finding him was easier than I expected. Remind me later, and I’ll explain to you just how we did that.”
My eyebrows shot up and a satisfied smile bloomed on my face. Kevin didn’t know we knew about the chips, much less that we could track them! Which meant he wasn’t at home. But he’d figure all of that out the minute he stepped into his own house. So we couldn’t let that happen.
“Why don’t you tell me now?” I asked, stalling for time as I pinned the phone between my shoulder and my ear, then dug the chip tracker from my pocket. I typed Eckard’s code into it again, this time from memory.
Kevin chuckled. “How ‘bout I show you instead? Meet me at my house in an hour, and—”
“No!” I shouted, as the screen in front of me disappeared, only to be replaced a moment later with a progress bar and the word Loading…
Damn it! I hadn’t meant to be so obviously opposed to the meeting place. The gears in my brain whirred to life louder than the rush of my own pulse, scrambling for a good cover. “Someplace public. There’s no way we’re giving you home-field advantage.”
The loading screen dissolved, and new coordinates appeared, but I could tell nothing from the longitude and latitude, so I pressed the Map View button, and the progress bar appeared again as the new page loaded.
“You’re right.” Kevin chuckled again, and I was starting to truly hate the sound of his laughter. “Because you’re coming alone. If you don’t, Marc’s dead.”
