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Isaiah went very still, the knots in his gut beginning to loosen. “She all right?” he gritted out.
Havana hesitated. “Uh …”
And like that, the knots inside him went tighter. “Is she all right?”
“She’s been shot, but she’s okay.”
Motherfucker. His cat clawed at Isaiah’s insides, needing an outlet for his anger.
“Helena’s on her way to my house as we speak—Aspen just got off the phone with her. Quinley will be healed by the time you get back.”
Isaiah drew in a breath that did nothing to calm him. His mate was alive, she was out of the pack’s hands, but she’d taken a fucking bullet. “Put her on the phone.”
“I would, but I haven’t managed to coax her cat to shift back yet.”
He cursed. “Don’t leave her side, Havana.” He needed to know that someone he trusted was with her.
“She will remain under my watchful eye until you get back, I promise.” The line went dead.
Isaiah looked at Tate, who was fast approaching him. “She’s at your house. Just arrived.”
“And?” prodded the Alpha, falling into step beside him as Isaiah hurried back the way they came.
“And she took a bullet.”
Tate swore. “She’s alive, Isaiah.”
“Yeah,” he bit out, wanting to feel relieved but all he could taste was fury.
As they reached the car, Tate spoke, “Deke, JP—track the scents of the pack, find out where they went. Me and Isaiah are gonna go and check on Quinley.”
As they both slid into the vehicle, Isaiah gave the Alpha a sideways look. “You don’t have to stay with me, I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
“I’m not leaving you on your own while you’re like this.”
Isaiah started the engine and pulled out onto the road. “Like what?”
“Mentally all over the place. You think I don’t know how you’re feeling? Havana was once shot out in the open, remember? I was ready to blow by the time I got to her.”
Isaiah remembered. It was he and Deke who’d sensed the danger and yelled at her to duck. They’d also watched over her until Tate had arrived. “I’m not going to blow.” Because Quinley needed him to be calm.
“But you’re probably going to start blaming yourself for this. Don’t.”
Too late. “I should have waited before mating her,” muttered Isaiah. “I should have made sure we’d dealt with the Vercetti Pack first.”
“If you’d have waited, she’d have mated someone else,” Tate pointed out.
The thought of that made Isaiah’s breath catch and his pacing cat halt.
“Quinley wasn’t in a position to give you time. You didn’t do anything wrong. The pack is in the wrong, not you.”
“Why is it so hard to find them?”
“I don’t know,” replied Tate, his voice dark. “But they can’t hide forever.”
It wasn’t long before Isaiah was once more parking in his driveway. He all but leaped out of the car and then jogged to the Alpha pair’s house. The front door opened before they got to it, revealing Havana. She waved them inside, saying, “She’s in the den.”
Isaiah stalked into the room, and his belly roiled. Quinley sat in an armchair in clothes a little too big for her, her skin far too pale. Blood loss, he thought.
