Dirty Alphas Page 15

  My father works his jaw back and forth slowly as shadows seem to descend on his features. “I think for the time being you should move back in here with us. It’s not safe for you to be living alone right now.”

  “I don’t live alone, Dad,” I say, “I live with Zane. You know that. And I also already told you my plan for the Knight brothers. I’m spending time with Darrel Knight in the hopes my wolf will submit to him before they all challenge you—it’s our only way out of this. By all accounts, he’s a wonderful alpha.”

  A muscle ticks in my father’s jaw. “Whoever sent those soldiers is not messing around. And next time, they’re not going to underestimate you.”

  “Maybe,” I say. “Unless they think Lance was the one who took out the team and I just sat there and tried not to faint.”

  My father doesn't look amused at my poor attempt at humor. “We’re dealing with two takeover attempts at once, Scar. It’s the only possible explanation. And it seems both attempts are focused on you.”

  “But why? If a takeover is the plan, then they didn’t need me—unless–" I lower my voice, “do you think they know?”

  His gaze flicks to the closed door. “No. I’m thinking you were insurance if anything went wrong, and I’m starting to really fear they might have taken your sister for the same purpose.” My dad’s face tightens, worry lines etching deep across his forehead. “She never came home last night. I have two of my betas looking for her, but they’ve come up empty.”

  “You’ve tried the pack link?”

  His grim look sends a sinking sensation straight to my stomach. “My connection isn’t strong enough.”

  “Dad, I—I’m so sorry—”

  “It’s not your fault, honey.” He squeezes my arm in comfort, even though we both know it’s my fault. Of course, it’s my fault. He’s just pretending to be alpha—and for my sake.

  “Did they check the club she always goes to? Oh, and that stupid bar that doesn’t card women in Eureka?” I’m grasping at straws here, but I already know this is useless. My dad is thorough and would never leave any stone unturned.

  “She’s not at her usual haunts. I’d be out there looking for her too, but I’m needed here to organize our defenses and look after you.”

  “Should I take over the pack bonds and look for her?”

  He doesn’t answer for a second. “If you take up the alpha reins and start actively using the pack bonds, honey, the pack will feel you. They’ll feel your alpha call—it'll feel very different than mine. If we use the bond to find her, we’ll need to be ready to flee. Your sister does this type of thing more nights than not, and if we do this, it could mean losing everything. I think we should give Zeezee a few more hours to get in contact while the pack searches for her. If we don’t find her by midday tomorrow, we’ll consider more drastic measures.”

  While his rationalization makes sense, it doesn’t make me feel any better.

  I shift and wince at the tug on my stitches.

  “You need to rest.”

  “I need to find Zeezee. You know I can’t just sit here and twiddle my thumbs. I can track her better than anyone—I don’t need the pack bond. I’ve been cleaning up her messes for months now, and I know more shit about her life than anyone ever would want to.” Holding out my hands toward my father, I ask, “Will you keep my wolf in check while I let her heal me?”

  I mostly don’t want her running off to hump one of the Knight brothers' legs.

  “Of course, sweetheart. If I can.”

  It’s a little strange to have him admit out loud there’s a possibility my wolf will simply dominate his and he can’t stop me from doing what I want.

  My wolf comes tentatively when I call her, filling me almost reluctantly—as if, for once, she’s the one pushing me away. As my side begins to sear with pain, my wolf’s sadness fills me. I feel her mistrust in me, as if she’s afraid I’m going to hurt her. It’s so utterly strange because my wolf has never shown fear about anything—not since I first connected with her spirit as a child. But she won’t even show me what she’s afraid of—as if she doesn’t even trust me with that.

  When I pull out of the healing and look up into my father’s eyes, a tear falls onto my cheek. I wipe it away quickly. “Thank you. My side won’t hold me back in a fight.”

  “You still need to take it very easy and use the pain medicine. From the extent of your muscle damage, your new tissue is going to need some time to build up strength and stamina.” Dark shadows gather in my father’s green eyes. “I didn’t want you to have a life like this, Scarlet. I wanted you to have a life of peace.”

  “This is shifter life, Dad. It’s not what either of us wanted, but it’s what we have. I just never thought so many packs, and maybe even the NALC, would conspire against us. If they just left us alone… ” I shake my head.

  “I’m not surprised in the least.”

  “But we’re a small pack in a smaller area. Will you please explain to me why everyone seems so interested in nabbing it?” I ask.

  “I have a few theories.” Dad pinches the bridge of his nose before giving me a level look. “It’s not the pack, it’s the location. This area is prime real estate for drug dealing. You have no idea how many enemies I made when I cut off ties from Jacob’s previous business partners and their illegal ventures.”

  “Shit,” I say. “I think the thing that makes me more nervous is not understanding the big picture here. Who the hell is behind this? And are the Knight brothers involved in drug smuggling?” My gut reaction is an immediate “No,” but what the hell do I know about it? I bite the inside of my cheek as more pressing matters surge to the surface.

  Zeezee.

  Zane.

  “Dammit Dad, I’ve got to go find Zeezee and Zane and make sure these freaks haven’t hurt them.” I throw the blanket off my legs and flip them over the side of the bed, noticing I’m wearing my dance uniform from high school, a yellow and gold skin-tight tank and miniskirt with built-in underwear.

  My father grimaces. “We recycled all your other remaining clothes to younger members of the pack.”

  “Well…” I blow out a breath. “At least it still fits.”

  “All the dominants are on patrol, Scar.” Dad rubs his hands through his hair, a clear sign of his agitation. “I’d appreciate it if you could wait for one to return before you left.”

  “You know I’m not going to do that, Dad. I’m going to ask the Knight brothers for a ride to my car—and then I’m going to ask Darrel to help me find Zane. The first thing I’m going to do is head home to see if I can find any clues in our unit.”

  “We already checked there, Scar.”

  “But I haven’t. You know I’ll find something your betas missed.”

  He gives me a sympathetic nod, like he already knows this is a lost cause, but also knows he has to humor me anyway.

  I don’t like the pity on his face, but it doesn’t change his assessment of me. He knows I have to take charge of this situation, that I’ll do it with or without his approval.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Scarlet

  “Lance, I can’t decide what’s worse, my friend Mack’s crazy driving or the fact that we’ve only managed to drive the equivalent of three blocks in the last ten minutes,” I say from the passenger seat of Lance Knight’s van.

  Aaron barks a laugh from where he’s leaning between our seats while Lance peers at me from the corner of his eyes, lips twisting.

  And that’s about all I get from Lance. I swear he slows down just to spite me. Thankfully, we don’t need to return to the shelter as, I’m told, the vampires brought my car home along with my remaining possessions—including my smashed and broken cell phone. Darrel generously loans me his phone, but neither my sister nor Zane seem to be answering the unknown number. Mack’s phone picks up with a recorded mechanical voice that says, “This phone only receives calls from approved parties. Goodbye.”

  I text several messages, but no one is respondin
g to those as well.

  When we finally pull up to the Meadows Apartment parking lot, I pass Darrel back his phone and slip out of the van before it comes to a complete stop. Every muscle in my body seizes at once mid-leap, and I land wrong. My whole body screams a protest, as what feels like a full-bodied Charlie horse pinches me from neck to feet.

  Holding my sides, I gasp through the pain.

  Obviously, I didn’t heal myself enough to pull that kind of maneuver, and my body is telling me in not so subtle strikes of searing muscle pain.

  Yep. This sucks. I hear Lance’s muffled curse from the vehicle. The van door slides open, and Darrel and Aaron are right on my tail. I bend forward and rest my hands on my knees to give myself a minute to recoup from that stupid stunt.

  Aaron places a hand on my back and softly rubs it.

  “Every wolf needs to realize they’re not invincible, honey,” he says with a thinly disguised smirk. “It’s called growing up.”

  “Thanks, butthead,” I say, but I’m too tired to put much sting in my words.

  “You hear that, Darrel? Scarlet has a pet name for me, too,” Aaron says.

  “That’s always been your nickname behind your back,” Darrel says.

  “You make jokes?” I ask Darrel incredulously as I slowly ease up into a standing position.

  “I’m as shocked as you,” Aaron says as he keeps a hand on my back, ready to catch me if I pass out.

  It’s kind of sweet, but I super hate feeling this weak in front of a bunch of alphas. My badass reputation has taken hits left and right in the last twenty-four hours.

  After a scowling, Lance joins us. I slowly make my way toward the office, cursing the slow pace and stiff way I’m walking. I’m so focused on my steady steps, I don’t realize Mack is sitting on the concrete, leaning against the office door, taking a little nap until I’m nearly on top of him.

  “Mack?” I say, blinking a few times just to be sure he’s real.

  His eyes snap open. “Scarlet? What the hell, girl? I’ve been worried sick about you.”

  He’s on his feet, going in for a hug before I have time to warn him. Suddenly, Aaron and Lance are on either side, holding him back. I can’t hide my relief at that near miss. A big bear hug from Mack right now probably would have made me faint or something—my badass reputation would have been officially, irreversibly ruined.

  “What the fuck, you guys?” he growls, doing a fair impression of a werewolf. “Why are you restraining me like two club bouncers?”

  “We didn’t want you to hurt Scarlet by mistake,” Aaron says, letting Mack go and patting him on the back. Lance eases up his hold as well.

  “Hurt her?” Mack looks at my slightly hunched over form and slowly moves forward with his hands out. “What happened?”

  “It’s a long story. And your phone doesn’t take outside calls—I tried to reach you on the way here,” I say. I’m stalling, trying to figure out what I can tell Mack that might actually be believable. I thought I’d have a little more time to come up with an excuse before I saw him again.

  “Did you get into a car accident? Did you fall down the stairs? Did someone push you?” Now he’s really growling.

  “No.” I shake my head, mentally willing him to stop asking questions.

  “Talk to me, Scar, because your face is pale and you’re favoring your left side. You look like death warmed over.”

  I give him a weak smile. “Thanks. You really know how to sweet talk a gal.”

  He takes another step and opens his arms for a hug. I take a step forward and rest my head against his chest. He gently envelops me in his arms, and I sink into his embrace.

  “Please tell me this isn’t like last time,” he whispers, his breath warming my ear. “Was it these guys surrounding you, baby? If it was, just nod, and I’ll kill all of them.”

  “No…no, no, they helped me and are still helping me. No murder, please,” I rush to reassure Mack. Ducking back, I glance between brothers, noting their stiff jaws and speculative expressions—but none of them attack, even though they clearly heard what Mack said.

  I weigh my options but realize I have none. I want to keep Mack safe, but if he’s ignorant to the situation, then how safe can he really be?

  “It’s kind of like what happened before. I was attacked at the shelter after you left.”

  Mack’s swearing is more colorful than I’ve ever heard from him. Despite his anger, he still holds me just as gently as before.

  “Dammit, this is my fault, isn’t it?” he asks. “I knew I never should have left you. Who was it? What did they do?”

  Pointing into his face, I say, “Not your fault. I pushed you to leave.” Haltingly, I share the details of my fight but only make Mack think it was just one werewolf and Lance quickly showed up to save the day. The story makes me want to vomit a little, but when I see the tension drain from Mack’s expression and tense shoulders, I know it’s worth it. I finish my story with, “It might be best if we each did our own thing for a couple of days.”

  “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’ll ever leave your side again after this. You need to tell me what’s going on, Scar.”

  “Calm down and take a breath,” Darrel says, stepping up beside me and throwing a protective arm around my shoulders.

  A little surprised at Darrel’s move, I glance around at all the men, seeing Mack’s tension has both Lance and Aaron taking wary, protective stances as well. “Okay, everyone, just…can we all calm down? Right now, I need to find Zane and Zeezee. My pack hasn’t been able to find them since before I was attacked.”

  Mack’s face drains of color.

  “The fact that you think anything could have happened to them because of what happened to you makes me sick to my stomach, Scar. These are political assassinations, aren’t they? Meaning they’re not going to stop until you’re neutralized,” he says. Obviously, Mack is way more knowledgeable about this than I want him to be. “Just what exactly has your pack gotten themselves into?”

  “The truce, Mack.”

  I give him a pleading look, one that begs him to stop asking such probing questions. I can feel Aaron and Lance’s heavy stares, no doubt wondering how much I plan to reveal to Mack. But I’m not okay with revealing more. The werewolf world is deadly, and just because the likelihood of my pack accepting Mack’s knowledge of our secret is higher than most packs, it doesn’t mean other shifters of other packs will accept it, namely the Knight alphas surrounding me. That knowledge will paint a big old target right on his back.

  Mack gently tugs me away from Darrel and back into his embrace, where I rest my cheek against his warm chest. This feeling of home is always present whenever I’m with Mack.

  “What was your plan, then?”

  “Right now, I’m more focused on putting one foot in front of the other so I can find Zane and my sister. I need to get into my apartment, but I left my bag at the shelter, so I’m grabbing a key from the office. I just want to take a look and see if there's anything there that will clue me in to Zane’s whereabouts.”

  “Okay,” Mack says. He pulls back and spears me with a no-nonsense look. “But once we either find or don’t find something, you’re getting back into that van over there and resting while these guys and I continue the search. Agreed?”

  “Hell no, I don’t agree. I’m going to keep looking, with or without you four.”

  “You can barely stand upright. Your whole body is shaking in my arms. You not convalescing in a bed somewhere right now is the highest form of stupidity.”

  “He has a valid point,” Lance says grudgingly.

  “They’re just muscle spasms. I’m fine.” I glare at Lance. “I couldn’t get you to say two words to me on the way over here, and now you want to talk?”

  His smirk is damn annoying.

  I slump my shoulders in defeat, knowing Mack isn’t about to back down, and I can’t exactly pull rank on him since he’s not part of the pack.

  That kind of s
ucks.

  “Fine. Let’s get the key and look. Once we’ve done that, I'll meekly go sit my ass down in the SUV and wait for your lead.”

  Aaron lets out a low whistle.

  “Damn Mack, she must be hurting like hell to agree to your terms. Wish we would have enlisted your help sooner.”

  I grumble my disapproval as I weakly push past Mack and my two bodyguards and unlock the door to the office. Mack comes up behind me and swiftly guides me inside, directly to a chair, before I can do anything else.

  “Hey—”

  “Just tell me where your spare key is, Scar.”

  I roll my eyes and direct him to the locked cabinet on the wall behind the desk where we keep all our spare keys. In no time, he locates it and gives me his arm to lean on.

  After about five minutes of my slow shuffle, we’ve only made it up one flight of stairs. I sense all the men’s worry as their gazes continuously dart over to me. “Sorry,” I say on a wince. “It’s just stupid muscle spasms from all the healing—I think I need water.”

  “Hold up, Scar,” Mack says.

  “What?” I say.

  He slowly reaches down and lifts me in a cradle hold so my left side is gently nestled against his chest. I lean into him and wrap my arms around his neck.

  “Oh, fine. I hope you guys know I’m not some damsel in distress, but…” I sigh. “I can admit this is a much better idea than taking two hours to get to my apartment.”

  Mack tries to be careful as he walks, but my muscles keep pulsating with pain. Who knew you’d need time to recover after reforming all your muscles? Yeah, I should have predicted this one and asked Dr. Reed to give me something for the road so I could function. I’m pretty much a lump here. When we finally make it to the second floor of Zane’s apartment, Lance reaches out an expectant hand toward Mack.

  “What?” Mack asks.

  “We need the key,” Aaron says, pushing himself before Lance. “We need to do some, ah, reconnaissance and make sure it’s safe for Scarlet to go in.”

  Mack glares at me. “So, we’re still in danger?”