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“Uh-huh,” I murmur. I never imagined being blessed with a mate, either. I have a feeling Bash will be blindsided soon.
“Tell us what we are looking at here. Ryker gave us an overview, but what was his setup like when you were there?” Jax asks, his face serious.
“The only time you were let out of the cage was to run in the hunt. The collars were kept on at all times. I’m sure they are even more advanced now. They’re the kinds used on dogs, just more powerful. He’s had years to step up his game, so I expect them to be more lethal. The cages are lined up, just like you see at the pound, well built and difficult to break out of, even for shifters. We are allergic to the metal they use, so it burns when we’re exposed to it for long periods. We can heal from it, but it takes some time.”
“What about food? Shower? Can you stand up in the cage?” Blue’s angry voice snaps.
“They feed us dog food,” I admit, and growls ring out all around. “Shower? What shower? They take a hose to us when the stench becomes too much. The most you can do in those cages is bend at the waist.”
“Sick fuck,” Blue says. “How many times did you try to run?”
“Too many to count. They had a tall fence with barbed wire on the top. Plus, it was an electric fence, zapped like a bitch. So when you have a shock collar around your neck, hit the electric fence, starved and weak, it’s easy to be caught quickly.”
“Jesus, where does he get the money for all of this?” James asks.
“He used the money my mom and dad had,” I scowl. “He gets plenty from hosting the hunt. People pay a shit-ton of money to hunt shifters.”
“Why didn’t I know about this?” Jax asks with guilt on his face.
“It’s not like he advertises it in the paper. The hunters sign a contract to keep them quiet. Most of us that escaped wanted to move on and forget about it,” I say, trying to ease the guilt.
“You said most? What about the others?” Ryker asks.
“They find a way to end their misery,” I say quietly.
“Shit,” Bash says.
They take a moment to digest that ugly truth. I didn’t tell them I thought I would be one of them for a split second. You have so much time to think when you are held against your will. I often had to shut down the thoughts that would end it all.
“How many games do they hold in a month?” Blue asks.
“More like how many do they hold in a week,” I snort. Shocked looks pass around the room. “Depending on how many shifters they have, if any are too injured, and how many hunters they have, it could be twice a day within the span of a week. But it’s safe to say they have them once a day, but there may be weeks in between the reservations. The hunters plan a week-long vacation to torture and hunt. They usually stay on the property, have meals, taunt the captives, and prepare their guns.”
“How many are killed in one hunt?” Bash asks. His face shows no emotion, but I feel his fury from deep inside.
“They try to only wound them. In the early days, they weren’t so careful. We would lose a shifter every day, but then they couldn’t fill the cages fast enough to fulfill the demand of the hunters. There were adjustments made so only half the cages were opened to join the hunt at a time. Of course, there are always exceptions. Gill can only control the men so much. Sometimes, they don’t listen, and shifters die. The hunters are usually drunk and more excited about stalking and torturing. If they kill too many, the games will be over too soon. They allow healing time for the badly injured.”
“This is so twisted,” James says sadly.
“People are afraid of what is different,” Bishop says, his deep voice gaining everyone’s attention. He’s been fairly quiet, listening intently. I know he’s been deciding if all the guys are trustworthy. “I was meeting my sister when they took us. I was young and cocky. I denied my dragon form and abilities. I wanted to be a human, to be just like everyone else. I blame my stupidity for not escaping sooner. If I had practiced my skills and embraced my power, they would have been dead that day. I was an asshole when I ended up in a cage beside River. I hated everyone and just wanted to take my sister home. Somehow, River broke through my hate. I owe him our lives. He helped me accept what I was and encouraged me to embrace my differences. I will fly tonight and search for the games,” Bishop says, turning to me with a nod, which I acknowledge.
“We will join you,” Ryker answers for Bash also. “We have to do this right. Once we find the location, we study the terrain, the security measures, and how many hunters and captives. We have to be organized, not go off half-cocked.” He looks at me.
“What? I completely agree,” I say innocently. Bash snorts. I do. Agree. But if I have the opportunity to take my uncle’s head off, I will.
“We should get back to our pregnant mate.” Jax stands, and his brothers follow. “Let us know when you find the location. Two of us will go with you, but we have to have one of us stay with Harmony. We don’t take any chances with her safety.”
“I appreciate it.” I clasp his hand before they leave.
“Let's plan the route. We have a few hours before dark.” Ryker pulls maps onto his desk.
“Shit, I didn’t know they had paper maps anymore,” I muse. I take a bite from my grilled cheese, looking at the map. I glance up when they don’t reply and find them staring at me. “What?”
“Nothing, brother,” Bishop says, a slight curve on his lips.
I let Bishop lead the charge. I know my strengths, and strategizing is not one of them. Releasing the gates of hell on my uncle is when my talents will come into play.
***
