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Most of Sydon’s team are dead. Yours are still with us, though a couple are beaten and cut up, but they’ll survive.
Fergus breathed a sigh of relief. Good. How about sending a couple of men down here. I want to move Sydon into a cell and lock him up. But we’ll need a muzzle.
I’ll bring help myself.
A half minute later, Warren arrived with three of his men. Each had wild, triumphant battle eyes. They’d engaged Sydon’s forces and prevailed.
Fergus directed them to shove Sydon’s ass into the nearest cell and lock him up.
During the next few seconds, Warren’s team muzzled Sydon, hauled him to the cell, then threw him inside. Sydon thrashed and whimpered because of the pain, but Fergus had no sympathy for him. With the door shut and locked, Warren ordered his men to remove the corpse at the top of the hall.
Fergus joined Warren near Sydon’s cell. From there, he had a view of the clean-up in progress all down the hall.
Warren waved his arm off to the side. “I’m having the dead moved into the adjacent cell until we can get them taken to the morgue.”
Fergus nodded, then looked inside Sydon’s cell. He lay shaking.
Warren crossed his arms over his chest, a hard expression on his face. “I’m glad you shot him. He can’t do much
harm in this condition. But are you sure you don’t want to finish him off?” He growled his anger and added a disgusted grunting sound.
Fergus understood where Warren was coming from. “Believe me, I’d like nothing better. But he’s pack-bonded. If I kill him straight out, I’ll lose the pack forever. Given what Dean said about the cartels, the council would probably be forced to assign a drug-friendly alpha instead. Besides, I want to defeat Sydon in a legitimate dominance battle. Nothing else will do.”
Warren shook his head, his lips turned down. “Something isn’t right with this wolf.”
“I know. I feel it, too.”
Fergus stepped away from the cell a few feet.
Warren followed, then said, “Let me bring some of my men over here to take care of Sydon’s rogue wolves. The team we have down here might be able to do it themselves, but a larger force will subdue the wolves faster with less chance for hurting your pack once the battle engages.”
Fergus was relieved. He could sense that the pack-bond had already started to form between Sydon and the rest of the Gordion wolves. It was a peculiar, amazing process, one that he’d experienced and loved.
But the bond was neutral, without discernment, which meant there were good men at the head of packs and several bad ones like Sydon. The close pack ties were the best and the worst of Savage. The bonding process in the hands of strong, ethical leadership could create a harmonious supportive community. In the wrongs hands, death always followed, reminding Fergus he had eleven funerals to plan.
“I won’t refuse that offer.”
Warren got out his phone and contacted his beta in charge of the Caldion compound. “Alessandro, I want a hundred of our best warriors over here ASAP. And I want them armed, swords, handguns and AR-15s.”
Fergus watched Warren for a long moment as he added a few other pertinent directives. Warren had been a good friend for several years. He’d battled drug-runners alongside Fergus while serving on the Savage Border Patrol. He’d been one of several wolves to demand tighter regulations for dominance fights so they could never be used to kill wolves of significantly lesser power. Warren was the kind of man you laid down your life for.
When Warren hung up, he said, “My men will be here in less than a minute. They’re ready to take on Sydon’s rogue wolves. So, how do you want to handle this?”
Fergus thought for a moment. “Let’s ask Mary what’s going on out front. We can start there. Keep Alessandro on the com.”
Warren held up his phone. “He’s right here.”
“Good.” He pivoted away from Warren slightly, turning in the direction of the stairs. “Mary, you there?”
Her voice entered Fergus’s mind. I’m here.
Can you bring Warren in on this conversation? He had no idea if Mary had that kind of capacity, but they were both experiencing new abilities. Maybe it was possible.
Let me try. He felt her telepathy expand to include Warren as she drew him into the conversation. Warren, are you reading me?
Warren met Fergus’s gaze, his unscarred right brow high on his forehead. Yes, I am, Mary. He looked startled. Fergus didn’t blame him. He’d had the same reaction several times during events of the past few hours. And I appreciate what you’ve done for us.
My pleasure, Mary said. Now, how can I help?
