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Unease clutching his throat and raking at his cat’s insides, Isaiah whipped out his phone and called Quinley. It rang and rang and rang, but no one answered. Fuck.
“Something’s wrong.” Isaiah shot forward in his seat, his cat anxiously unsheathing his claws. “Luke, stop the SUV. Now.”
The Beta frowned. “What?”
“Stop the fucking SUV! Quinley… I felt her fear. A spike of adrenaline. And now all I’m getting is pure pissed-off female.”
Cursing, Luke slowed the vehicle. “Call one of the neighbors; have them check on her.”
“I don’t need to,” began Isaiah, speaking through his teeth. “I feel that something’s wrong. The rest of you should head for the mines—our pride can’t afford to be outnumbered—but I’m going back.”
“Do you think it’s Zaire?” asked Blair, her expression concerned.
“I don’t know, but it could be the Vercetti Pack,” said Isaiah, talking fast. “It didn’t make sense to me that Sebastian would try luring her to the train station—the plan had a low chance of success, so why bother? Maybe all he wanted to do was draw us away. Luke, let me out of this fucking SUV or I swear…”
“I’m stopping, I’m stopping.” The Beta pulled up as they reached the emergency lane at the verge of the road.
“I’ll call Farrell and have someone pick you up,” said Blair, all business, her phone in hand. “Stick to the side of the road while you’re running and you’ll cross paths with them at some point. I’ll also have someone check on Quinley for you—don’t worry, they’ll move cautiously.”
Isaiah ragged open the sliding side door and hopped out. “Do whatever you have to do to save Raya and Lori if they’re alive.”
Sergei’s brow wrinkled. “Who?”
Isaiah gritted his teeth. “Fuck this shit.”
“Always such drama with these cats,” muttered Dimitri.
Staring down at the puddle of clothes on the living room floor, Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “She must have shifted into her cat form. Probably sensed us.”
No matter. They’d find her.
He wasn’t surprised that she’d chosen to hide. Typical submissive. She was probably trembling in pure terror—a thought that made his mouth curve.
His inner wolf stirred in anticipation of the hunt. He wanted to track and maim the feline. No, this kill would be Sebastian’s.
Davide glanced around, his brow pinched. “I don’t see her anywhere.”
“Could she be outside?” asked Wattie.
Sebastian shook his head. “A window or patio door would be open.” The cat couldn’t have closed them behind her. And if any were open, the sound of the wind outside wouldn’t be so muffled. “She’s here somewhere. Close the living room door so she can’t get out. You two find her while I position these explosives.”
Sebastian used tape to stick all three against various walls. Satisfied, he activated them with the app on his phone.
Once he and his pack mates were safely away from the house, they’d blow the place using the detonator linked to his cell. But not until Hale was home and had discovered his mate dead—Sebastian wanted him to feel that gut-wrenching pain of losing someone you loved; of seeing them dead and bleeding. Only then would Hale die.
Done, Sebastian tracked his pack mates to the kitchen. Both were searching cupboards, muttering curses beneath their breath. He frowned. “You haven’t found her yet? Seriously?”
Davide scraped a hand through his hair. “It’s like she vanished.”
For God’s sake. “She’s just a tiny little cat.”
“Which means she’s better at hiding than the average shifter,” Wattie pointed out before he moodily exited the room.
“It’s hard to follow her scent,” groused Davide, slamming a cupboard door shut. “It’s everywhere and nowhere. There’s no actual trail coming from or leading to any place.”
Sebastian reached out with his senses, searching for a ribbon of scent to follow. There was none. “So maybe she just didn’t come into the kitchen.”
Davide gave his head a fast shake. “There’s no trail in any room. I’d suggest we shift, but our animals would do no better at finding her. They’d also eat her alive if they did, and you’re set on snapping her neck yourself.”
