Page 89 of Inextricably Tied

“Then I’m afraid not. And Capheira won’t be much help to you, either. The Vestals were mindlessly loyal to their Alpha. Interrogation does nothing.”

Flint and Agony find their own seats. “What happened at the battle?” Flint asks. “How’d it get to the point of cremating her?”

As if a weight is finally settling, Lev’s shoulders sink. “There’s been a lot of unrest recently, and I’m afraid it’s not over. Vesta was always overly-ambitious. Power hungry.” Her eyes shift a shade darker, gaze sharpening to glass. “The Conclave was able to keep her in line for a while, but years ago, she disappeared off the map. I thought we’d heard the last of her, but a few months ago, rumors started. A new pack gaining traction, poaching members from weaker groups, decimating smaller factions until the Conclave had to take notice. By then, the Vestals were a lot stronger than anyone predicted. They weren’t going to surrender.”

Agony frowns. “What does that have to do with Raymond Reid?”

“I don’t know.” Lev’s arms fold across her chest. “Flint said you’re looking for a place he might have buried girls. Wondering if he was involved with a phoenix. I don’t have any specific evidence for you, but I wouldn’t put either of those things past Vesta.”

“But why?” Harbinger tugs at her gloves “What would she get from Reid killing girls? Why would he come out here?”

“It’s remote. Lots of land, not a lot of people asking questions. He might have thought it was some lawless place, but if most of the packs in the Break found out what Reid was doing, he would have begged for the OID to take him instead. If it was Vesta, though…” Lev stares out the window as light begins to fade. Upstairs, other pack members move about, calling down the hallway. “I don’t know for sure, but there are ways she could have used the girls to strengthen her pack. To make herself more powerful.”

Harbinger stops picking at her gloves. “How?”

“There are a few ways. None of which are looked upon highly. Techniques to forcibly bind someone to your pack, to force a sense of loyalty. New members tend to make a pack stronger, and a stronger pack means a stronger Alpha. Vesta may have compelled the girls to join her pack when Reid brought them around.”

“Wait, so the girls could still be alive?” Agony leans forward, earnest hope on his face. Lev sees it and winces.

“I’m afraid not. Especially after the battle…” She shakes her head. “But your girls weren’t there. At least, not the ones Flint described.”

“Then what would Reid get out of it?” Frustration edges into Harbinger’s voice. “And wouldn’t members dying weaken the pack?”

“No, actually.” Lev plucks the strand of hay from her lips. “Like I said, there are a few different ways to make a pack stronger. One is adding new members — it takes time for the pack bonds to make room and solidify around another person. But if they kept the girls alive long enough for that, losing those members would strengthen the pack at an exponential rate.”

Unease creeps up Flint’s neck as Lev speaks. “If a member withdraws or dies, it’s like a muscle tearing to become stronger, scar tissue forming over a wound. The binds of the pack cinch tighter and bring the remaining members closer together. That’s what happened with the Vestals. They lost most of their members in the battle, so the bond tried harder to knit them back together. It’s a painful process. A terrible process,” Lev amends. “Especially if an Alpha were doing it on purpose, killing people to make the pack stronger.”

A side door bursts open. The three of them jump, but Lev is unperturbed, waving the other Timbers through the door. Harbinger stares into her helmet on the counter. Agony scowls. Flint finds some words. “Thank you, Lev. That’s very helpful.”

“You’re welcome to stay tonight.” She pushes up from the counter. “I don’t advise driving back down the mountain after dark. We have plenty of room in the smaller cabins outside. Most of the right row should be empty.”

A feral screech comes from outside. Lev rolls her eyes, swinging the chain of ashes to her back. “Dinner’s in an hour. Help yourselves. And let me know if you need anything else.”

THIRTY-ONE

Harbinger

Harbinger’s dead on her feet, so Flint and Agony leave her to pass out in one of the extra cabins. It’s hard to get comfortable, even in a bed big enough for multiple pack members to pile on at once.

There are ways Vesta could have used the girls.

If a member of a pack dies, it’s like a muscle tearing, scar tissue forming over a wound.

Harbinger scowls against the pillow, trying to tie Vesta and Reid together before her thoughts overflow into the well of her dreams.

Flint drives the SUV. Agony’s in the backseat, but not the Agony she’s used to. Not the real Agony, just a figurehead of her imagination, fading into the background as the radio changes stations on its own.

It takes a few moments to recognize the street. As if her brain is blocking it out, trying to protect her, but familiar dread seeps in as soon as Flint pulls up to the curb. She wants to lock the car doors. She reaches for the button, but her hand doesn’t obey, gripping the handle and pushing the passenger door open.

This isn’t like her dreams with Agony. She can’t make her body react. Can’t stall her feet. Can’t open her mouth to tell Flint to stop. Instead, she follows Flint up the front steps where he rings the doorbell.

“I’m sorry this is hurting you.”

His voice surprises her. He doesn’t look at her, as if they’re continuing a conversation from Harbinger’s head.

“It’s fine. It’s not hurting me.”

“It is,” Flint insists. “You’re stuck with this.” He rings the bell again. “You have to feel what I’m feeling, forever.”