But now, thanks to Ryan, Miguel knew for certain that al the Prides were on alert. He’d know the tabbies were surrounded by brothers and enforcers, and were under orders not to go out alone. None of the other tabbies would ignore a direct order from her father, and even if Miguel didn’t know that for sure, Sean would.
Sending “Carissa” on a long walk by herself would be too obvious; Sean and Miguel would know they were being set up. They’d run, and we’d probably never catch them. So how could we make her available without tipping them off about the trap? Where could we send her with few—maybe even just one— bodyguard, without raising their suspicions?
The layout of the Taylors’ land had provided the solution: we’d send her to the cabin. It made perfect sense.
Unlike my father’s men, the enforcers of the midwest territory didn’t live in their Alpha’s backyard. They had a house to themselves in a clearing about a quarter of a mile behind the main house. The cabin, as they called it, was essential y a three-bedroom bungalow, renovated and wired for electricity sometime in the seventies. It was completely surrounded by woods, except for the wel -worn foot trail from the main building.
And the best part was that neither house was visible from the other.
Inside information from Sean and Ryan had worked against us from the beginning, but that was about to change. Sean knew about the cabin, and I was counting on the fact that he’d explain the layout of the Taylor property to Miguel.
If Carissa’s childhood was anything like mine, she’d spent much of her youth wandering back and forth between her home and the cabin, eagerly welcomed in both. In fact, now that she was nearly grown, she probably spent a good deal of time there, just to be able to relax around someone other than her parents.
So a short trek on her own property would be harmless. Even understandable, considering how cooped up she must feel, having spent the past two days under the close observation of everyone around her.
But just in case a solitary forest walk looked suspicious, we had Brian. He was there to accompany “Carissa,” to keep up the appearance of a strong defensive presence. If we’d used one of the other guys, Sean would know immediately that something was off. But Brian belonged on the Taylor estate, and would be a perfectly believable escort for his sister.
The plan was for my men to hide up in the trees along the trail, some in human form, some in cat form, so we’d be prepared to handle the kidnappers in either shape. There were two reasons for the elevated hiding places. First, they could see much farther in the air than they could on the ground. Second, their scents would be harder for Miguel and Sean to catch from overhead.
Marc would take a tree wel back from the path, on the side of the property farthest from the highway, because his was the only scent Miguel would recognize.
Sean would recognize al the others, but he’d probably assume the Taylors had cal ed in some extra backup to help protect their daughter. Unless he smel ed Marc.
Every Pride cat in the country knew Marc would never take another assignment until he’d found me. So we had to keep him—and his scent—as far away from the path as was practical.
After several minutes of discussion, we’d decided that Anthony, Ethan, and Marc would Shift into cat form, and Parker, Vic, and Lucas would stay in human form. Brian and I would wait in the main house until we heard from one of the guys in human form that Miguel and/or Sean had shown up.
How would we hear from them? Wel , Parker, Vic and Lucas had each programmed Eric’s number into their cel phones, which were al on silent mode. As soon as any of them saw either of the rogues, he would call me and let the phone ring once then hang up. That would be our signal to leave the house.
Real y, I don’t know how people ever got anything done in the days before the Internet and cell phones.
Brian had already unscrewed the lightbulb from the back porch, so it would be nearly impossible for Sean and Miguel to get a clear look at my face. Even if one or both of them had Shifted, the dark would aid me rather than them. Cats see very wel in the dark but they don’t see very far; their best vision is in the midrange, not too close but not too far away. So no matter which form they took, they couldn’t get close enough for a good look at me—or a good whiff—without alerting at least one of the guys.
Once we got the cal , Brian and I would make some noise as we unlocked the back door. This was to give my men warning that we were coming, and to focus the bad guys’ attention on us rather than on any activity going on over their heads.
Then, my “big brother” and I would cross the backyard and take off down the foot trail, laughing and joking on our way to the cabin. That would be the hard part—acting like nothing was wrong as I walked along, waiting for Miguel to pounce on me. Again.
If neither cat showed himself by the time we got halfway to the cabin, Brian and I would sweeten the bait a bit. We’d have to get big brother out of the picture, even if just for a few minutes. We’d strike up a playful game of tag, or decide to race each other to the bungalow porch. That would be a little tricky because Miguel was more than familiar with my voice—thanks to my own big mouth—so I’d have to be careful not to speak much. Or very loudly.
Either way, the idea was for Brian to run ahead to the cabin—which we’d leave unlit, so they’d know it was empty—leaving me alone on the path for a few minutes.
I’d amble along, again waiting to be pounced on.
If they stil didn’t take the bait, I’d enter the cabin and watch TV with Brian, waiting for Sean and Miguel to attack. There were two of them, and we were hoping that if they thought I had only one escort, they’d think the odds of a victory were in their corner.
Sending “Carissa” on a long walk by herself would be too obvious; Sean and Miguel would know they were being set up. They’d run, and we’d probably never catch them. So how could we make her available without tipping them off about the trap? Where could we send her with few—maybe even just one— bodyguard, without raising their suspicions?
The layout of the Taylors’ land had provided the solution: we’d send her to the cabin. It made perfect sense.
Unlike my father’s men, the enforcers of the midwest territory didn’t live in their Alpha’s backyard. They had a house to themselves in a clearing about a quarter of a mile behind the main house. The cabin, as they called it, was essential y a three-bedroom bungalow, renovated and wired for electricity sometime in the seventies. It was completely surrounded by woods, except for the wel -worn foot trail from the main building.
And the best part was that neither house was visible from the other.
Inside information from Sean and Ryan had worked against us from the beginning, but that was about to change. Sean knew about the cabin, and I was counting on the fact that he’d explain the layout of the Taylor property to Miguel.
If Carissa’s childhood was anything like mine, she’d spent much of her youth wandering back and forth between her home and the cabin, eagerly welcomed in both. In fact, now that she was nearly grown, she probably spent a good deal of time there, just to be able to relax around someone other than her parents.
So a short trek on her own property would be harmless. Even understandable, considering how cooped up she must feel, having spent the past two days under the close observation of everyone around her.
But just in case a solitary forest walk looked suspicious, we had Brian. He was there to accompany “Carissa,” to keep up the appearance of a strong defensive presence. If we’d used one of the other guys, Sean would know immediately that something was off. But Brian belonged on the Taylor estate, and would be a perfectly believable escort for his sister.
The plan was for my men to hide up in the trees along the trail, some in human form, some in cat form, so we’d be prepared to handle the kidnappers in either shape. There were two reasons for the elevated hiding places. First, they could see much farther in the air than they could on the ground. Second, their scents would be harder for Miguel and Sean to catch from overhead.
Marc would take a tree wel back from the path, on the side of the property farthest from the highway, because his was the only scent Miguel would recognize.
Sean would recognize al the others, but he’d probably assume the Taylors had cal ed in some extra backup to help protect their daughter. Unless he smel ed Marc.
Every Pride cat in the country knew Marc would never take another assignment until he’d found me. So we had to keep him—and his scent—as far away from the path as was practical.
After several minutes of discussion, we’d decided that Anthony, Ethan, and Marc would Shift into cat form, and Parker, Vic, and Lucas would stay in human form. Brian and I would wait in the main house until we heard from one of the guys in human form that Miguel and/or Sean had shown up.
How would we hear from them? Wel , Parker, Vic and Lucas had each programmed Eric’s number into their cel phones, which were al on silent mode. As soon as any of them saw either of the rogues, he would call me and let the phone ring once then hang up. That would be our signal to leave the house.
Real y, I don’t know how people ever got anything done in the days before the Internet and cell phones.
Brian had already unscrewed the lightbulb from the back porch, so it would be nearly impossible for Sean and Miguel to get a clear look at my face. Even if one or both of them had Shifted, the dark would aid me rather than them. Cats see very wel in the dark but they don’t see very far; their best vision is in the midrange, not too close but not too far away. So no matter which form they took, they couldn’t get close enough for a good look at me—or a good whiff—without alerting at least one of the guys.
Once we got the cal , Brian and I would make some noise as we unlocked the back door. This was to give my men warning that we were coming, and to focus the bad guys’ attention on us rather than on any activity going on over their heads.
Then, my “big brother” and I would cross the backyard and take off down the foot trail, laughing and joking on our way to the cabin. That would be the hard part—acting like nothing was wrong as I walked along, waiting for Miguel to pounce on me. Again.
If neither cat showed himself by the time we got halfway to the cabin, Brian and I would sweeten the bait a bit. We’d have to get big brother out of the picture, even if just for a few minutes. We’d strike up a playful game of tag, or decide to race each other to the bungalow porch. That would be a little tricky because Miguel was more than familiar with my voice—thanks to my own big mouth—so I’d have to be careful not to speak much. Or very loudly.
Either way, the idea was for Brian to run ahead to the cabin—which we’d leave unlit, so they’d know it was empty—leaving me alone on the path for a few minutes.
I’d amble along, again waiting to be pounced on.
If they stil didn’t take the bait, I’d enter the cabin and watch TV with Brian, waiting for Sean and Miguel to attack. There were two of them, and we were hoping that if they thought I had only one escort, they’d think the odds of a victory were in their corner.
