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“I’m not an idiot,” Chad said. “Why do you think we have a dozen of your team here?”
“I’m surprised Rourke let you bring me and the others,” Hoyt said.
“He’s not in fucking charge, I am,” Chad said. “Considering that Wes and his friends almost bested him, he couldn’t exactly argue when I said we were bringing a team.”
Eleanor’s heart slammed against her ribcage, and what little spit left in her mouth completely dried up when headlights splashed across the parking lot. She leaned forward, ignoring Hoyt when he jabbed the gun into her ribs and stared at the car idling in front of them.
When Wes stepped out from behind the wheel, her mouth dropped open, and she said, “He drove.”
“What?” Chad glanced at her.
“He drove,” she said again. “Oh my God, he drove the car.”
“What the fuck is wrong with her?” Hoyt said to Chad.
Chad shrugged. “I don’t know, and I don’t fucking care. Let’s get this shitshow cleaned up.”
* * *
Wes’s lion roared with excitement when Eleanor climbed out of the silver SUV. She looked scared to death, and he could smell her fear, but she was alive. That’s all he and his lion cared about.
“Mr. Masters.” A blond man wearing jeans and a pale blue dress shirt smiled frostily at him. “You’re late.”
Wes ignored him, staring at Eleanor. “You’ll be safe soon, my mate.”
“Maybe on a white sand beach with turquoise water,” she said with a trembling smile that nearly broke him.
His lion trilled to her, and Wes said, “Yes. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Her voice was soft but steady.
“Touching,” the blond man said. “But perhaps we could discuss the actual reason we’re all here.”
“I’m here to kill you for taking my mate,” Wes said, his gaze lingering on Rourke, who stood near a group of a dozen men. Four of them were humans, and the rest were a mixture of lions, leopards, and cougars.
Rourke snarled at him. “Let me kill him now, Chad.”
Chad, a dark-haired man, and Eleanor stood about six feet in front of the SUV with a massive pile of rotting logs just to the right of the vehicle. Chad held up his hand as the other men fanned out until they were in a half-circle. To their left, the sawmill loomed. Behind the mill was a wooded area, and Wes could hear the river that wound through the trees.
“No one is going to kill anyone. Wes - can I call you Wes? - will give me the flash drive, and he and his mate will leave. Assuming, of course, that you’ve done as instructed, Wes,” Chad said.
Rourke turned and faced the sawmill. He repeatedly inhaled, his nostrils quivering as he turned back and forth like an antenna seeking a signal.
After nearly three minutes, he turned to face Chad, who raised an eyebrow at him. “Well?”
“He’s alone,” Rourke said. “I don’t smell any of his friends.”
“Are you sure?” The dark-haired man said before pointing to the men in the half-circle. “Maybe their smell is blocking his friends’ scents.”
Rourke bared his fangs at him. “Fuck you, Hoyt. I can smell the fucking garlic on your shitty breath from over here. Keep suggesting I’m wrong about smelling my kind, and I’ll rip your limbs off one by one.”
“Enough,” Chad said. “The flash drive, please, Wes.”
Wes reached into his pocket and pulled out the flash drive before closing the distance between him and Chad.
One of the humans stepped forward and pointed the gun at him. Chad smiled thinly. “Please hand it to my associate, Wes.”
“Give me my mate first,” Wes said.
