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“Someone who knew our schedule and is a crack shot,” said Havana, her expression diamond hard. “We looked around after I called Tate, but the asshole was long gone by then.”
“We were pretty sure they’d scampered, but we shifted and let our animals go check shit out.” Bailey paused as Helena laid a healing hand on her shoulder. “There’s no trail to follow, though.”
“And we didn’t pick up a scent,” Aspen grumbled. “They used a scrambler.” The pungent, scented sprays were designed to screw with a shifter’s enhanced sense of smell, allowing people to hide their signature scent and protect their identity.
Right then, Luke and Blair clambered back up the hill.
“Tire was definitely shot out,” the Beta male confirmed. “No other bullets appear to have hit the car.”
Blair folded her arms. “I don’t think this was an attempt to kill. If that were the case, the prick would have stuck around and either shot at the vehicle in the hope of making it go boom, or shot at Havana, Aspen, and Bailey to take them out. He didn’t.”
Luke dipped his chin. “This seemed more like another attempt at giving Bailey a scare.”
“Doesn’t matter what their motivation was,” said Camden, his voice liquid menace. “They’ll pay for this in blood.”
“Too right they will,” Deke agreed, clenching his fists.
His jaw tight, Tate looked from his brother to Blair. “You can get this mess cleaned up, right?”
“Consider it done,” replied Luke, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call on a few enforcers to give us a hand.”
Tate gave a curt nod and then turned to his mate. “Let’s get you home.”
Deke, Bailey, Aspen, Camden, Farrell, and the Alphas piled into the nine-seater SUV. Like all the pride-owned vehicles, it had windows that were not only tinted but bulletproof.
Deke followed Bailey onto the rear row and sank onto the seat beside her. Her injuries were gone now, but streaks of dried blood remained on her skin and matted her hair. The scent taunted him and his cat, reminding them she’d been hurt.
Deke took her hand in his, ignoring the flicker of surprise in her eyes. So he wasn’t the type to hold hands or link fingers or whatever. So what?
Farrell gave the horn a brief toot and nodded in goodbye at the Betas as he drove forward.
“I don’t think the jackals did this,” began Havana from the two-seat passenger row in front of Deke. “Don’t get me wrong, I can easily see them running Bailey off the road to shake her up some. But they wouldn’t have struck while I was with her. To target an Alpha is to start a war. The jackals claimed they don’t want one.”
“And if that’s true, they would have had nothing to gain from what happened today,” Aspen piped up, snuggling into Camden on the seat adjacent to the devil shifter. “Seems unlikely that they did it.”
“Then I’d say either Ginny or Jackson’s brothers were behind it,” Farrell announced from the driver’s seat. “I’m not saying that any of them were the shooter. They might have hired someone to do the job for them, just as the human extremist was hired.”
Tate let out a hum. “I think it’s time we question the three loners.” Draping his arm over the back of the seat, the Alpha glanced over his shoulder at Deke. “Have River look up their addresses. Once we know where to find them, I’ll send people to pick them up and bring them to us.”
Deke fished his phone out of his pocket and quickly did as asked. “Done.” With that, he pocketed his cell.
Tate slid his gaze to Bailey. “I’m assuming you still have the number for Amiri.”
Suspecting where this was going, Bailey replied, “It’s logged in my phone. You want to call him?”
Tate nodded. “After all, there’s a chance it was their pack. A slim chance, yes, but it’s there all the same. If it was them, this was essentially a declaration of war. As such, they’ll have no reason to deny it.”
It was a possibility, though Bailey personally doubted it. Jackals weren’t known for playing guessing games. If this had been a declaration of war, they’d have stuck around to verbally make it clear, not fled the scene. Still, she handed her cell to the Alpha.
Flexing the fingers of her free hand, she cricked her neck. Her muscles were stiff and achy from the anger she couldn’t quite shift. It was one thing that she’d been hurt. It was a whole other that her girls had also been wounded. She was seriously gonna skin some fucker alive when she had their name, and her equally enraged snake would put them through a world of hurt with her venom.
Tate placed the call on speaker. It rang a few times before a voice answered, “Bailey, good to hear from you. I hope you are calling with news about Roman.”
