Lost Library: An Urban Fantasy Romance (22 page)

John was in a difficult place.
Making the exchange would place Lizzie into the hands of an unknown person, with unknown intent, with no rescue plan in place. But the alternative didn’t look better—Kenna maimed, possibly killed. Lizzie explained to him that the math was simple. Exchange a
certain
bad outcome for a
possible
one.

But that wasn’t John’s immediate problem. The
most pressing dilemma that he faced was whether he’d allow her to leave. He could stop her. He was Alpha of the largest pack in North America. He was bigger, stronger, and had extensive resources. Hell, he could just say, “No” and tie her ass up. And he wanted to. Because he wanted her safe.

John
didn’t have a connection to Kenna; she was only a passing acquaintance. He didn’t wish her ill, but she wasn’t worth Lizzie’s safety. His wolf emphatically agreed. But then he looked at her. And he realized, she would never forgive him such an action, such a betrayal. She loved her friend. So John pushed the wolf down, and he did what the man knew was right. Nothing.

After her emphatic refusal to heed John’s advice, h
e was surprised when Lizzie turned to him and said, “but—if you can help….”

She looked terrified but resolute.
Heartbreakingly so. And in that moment, her eyes wide with concern for her friend and herself, she seemed braver, and more beautiful than any other woman. He couldn’t take away her choices, or make her less than the incredibly loving and loyal friend she was. He cupped her face in his hands, and with one word made her a promise—“Yes.”

Lizzie was in a damn trunk. Again.

The exchange had gone off without a hitch. The trip to New Mexico had been frantic as she and John raced to beat the kidnappers’ deadline.
Max and John had discussed alternatives, but none had a good chance of ending without at least one of the two women shot. So the exchange had gone forward. Once she arrived at the designated exchange location, she’d walked to their car and they’d sent Kenna out. All very anti-climatic. Then there was the trunk.

She didn’t usu
ally swear, not even in her thoughts. But the last few days were simply too much. She was well and truly pissed. And what was worse than the trunk ride, she’d missed her opportunity for crazy, wild monkey sex with John. And now she might die and never know how truly excellent that would have been.
Dammit.

Laying
in the trunk, her bum falling asleep—big surprise—she remembered that moment in the camper. She was sure he was going to kiss her. He was inches away, hands touching her face, staring intently into her eyes…then nothing.
What the hell?
One thing she promised herself: if she got out of this alive, she was absolutely having great, mind-blowing sex with John. She wasn’t waiting for him to make the first move, either. No delay—as soon as she got out of this mess, she was going for it.
Right.
Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she could distract herself from a flood of panicky tears. A flood she was sure was just waiting for a weak moment to come gushing out.

As annoyed by the trunk ride as she’d been, it wasn’t a surprise.
She was an old hand at kidnapping, and being stashed in a trunk seemed to be standard operating procedure. Apparently, panel vans with all their roomy comforts were passé.

She’d dubbed the three men from the motel, Larry, Moe, and Curly. A girl needed a little humor in a life
-and-death situation. Larry, the leader, helped her out of the trunk at a deserted rest station. He invited her to have a seat in the car. What came next did surprise her.

“We’ll be boarding a plane soon.”

She’d just gotten off a plane. She was heartily sick of planes. Moffat, Colorado to Albuquerque hadn’t been a reasonable car drive. And they’d given Lizzie a deadline. Arrive or your friend loses a pinky. Another hour, her ring finger, another hour… She wanted to throw up just thinking about it.

He obviously was waiting for some acknowledgement. Lizzie complied. “Okay.” What did he expect her to say?

“Your cooperation as we travel would be much appreciated. To ensure your continued participation, my employer has made arrangements for someone close to you to be monitored. If you attempt to escape or become uncooperative in any way, this person will be punished for your behavior.” Larry watched her closely.

“My employer has asked that I assure you
that your assignment won’t last long or be difficult.” Larry’s tone changed. He sounded angry to Lizzie. “He has several books he wants categorized. And you’ll be helping.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.
Magic books? Of course, magic books.
Why else nab her? She was a badass, magic book reading, queen. Except she wasn’t.
She had thought being in a trunk was bad.
Put her back in the trunk. She’d take that over reading a stupid magic book. Magic books.
Arrgh.
She couldn’t read her book. No way was she going to be able to read a whole stack of them. And who would they hurt when she failed? One of her parents? Her cousins?
She realized she didn’t feel like crying any more. She was beyond tears. 

John and Max had returned from the exchange determined to find Lizzie and return her safely home. They’d been unable to follow her from the drop-off point but suspected she had been flown out of a private airport outside of Albuquerque. 

Kenna
was sitting on the edge of the bed. Looking lost. She had cried silently, tears trickling down her face, as her friend had climbed into a car with the three hired guns. Max walked over to Kenna, sat on the bed next to her, and took her hand. He had a moment of déjà vu, but before he could think why, she started to pull her hand away. He held on tighter.

“If not you, then her parents.
An ex-lover. If they’re using these tactics, there’s always someone who’s vulnerable and can be used as leverage.” He was certain she was berating herself for her mistake in leaving the motel room.

Her next words confirmed his deduction.
“I hadn’t realized.” She blinked. “But I did make it easy for them.”

“
As it stands, no one is injured. Be glad for that. You can’t predict all of the what-ifs of a different series of choices. If you hadn’t been there, there’s no way to know what would have happened. And your friend, Jack?” Kenna looked up in surprise. “He came through. He had information that may prove very valuable.” He told her about the Prague connection.

She straightened her spine a bit. “Good. I’d forgotten the phone call in all the drama. I better call Jack and let him know I’m
okay.”

“Chris already updated him. Apparently, she’s much more persuasive than I am. She smoothed things over and kept him abreast. But I’m sure he’s anxious to hear from you.” Max was relieved
Kenna was regaining her purposeful air. She reached out to accept the cell phone Max dug out of his pocket.

“Thanks.”
Kenna tucked her returned phone into her pocket.

John glanced at the display of his cell and immediately picked up. They’d already updated Chris. A repeat call meant she had some new information.

“I started poking around, trying to find out more about the structure of the Austrian pack
and their territory boundaries. I finally got some interesting information. I gambled on some friend-of-a-friend emails. But I just got a hit off one of them.”

“And?”
John was tired and impatient. The thought of Lizzie in danger left his wolf unsettled and anxious. Keeping his wolf in check created an inner conflict that wore on him. Even if he had to lock her up until she agreed, he’d convince her to join the Texas Pack. Not really. Maybe.

“Ever heard of the Inter-Pack Policing Cooperative?”

“The what?” John barked.

“Exactly.
That was my response. About five years ago, there was a major incident in Europe involving several packs. I didn’t get the details, but it must have been bad. After the cleanup, the packs directly involved banded together with several other concerned packs. The intent was to form a cross-territorial policing organization. It apparently hasn’t reached fruition. The IPPC is the forerunner organization. It’s in place to develop the infrastructure of the new policing agency. IPPC is also acting as an interim authority.”

“That may explain why there’s interest
, specifically, in Lizzie. She was supposed to be an unaffiliated American Record Keeper. The Texas Pack connection was unknown. Two advantages. She’s unlikely to draw the attention of the European pack police—or whatever they call themselves.”

Chris
provided the acronym. “IPPC.”

John continued as if she had said nothing, lost in thought. “And she would be easier to find than, for example, a
Record Keeper in an underdeveloped country.” He was thinking of the electronic footprint he’d followed when tracking down the pack book and Lizzie.

“Why didn’t we know about them before now?” John asked.

“Most European-based packs think we’re heathens. Isolated, clannish, practically xenophobic. Which is 50-75% true, depending on the pack. Can you blame them for failing to reach out to us? Why would they?” He could almost see Chris rolling her eyes.

James had persuaded Chris long ago that cooperation, integration, and stronger diplomatic ties between packs paved the road to a brighter future for
Lycan. Chris had little patience for the secrecy and superficial animosity that existed between the packs.

“I suspect we’ll get a diplomatic visit once the actual policing agency is up and running,” she said. “They’re basically creating a new mega-territory. It does little good, unless Lycan know they’re entering a different legal jurisdiction.”

“How did you
get this?” John knew better than to underestimate Chris’s research and investigative talents, but this was an especially noteworthy nugget of information.

“Email is the researcher’s friend.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “Long story short, I passed around stories. This particular one involved my cousin’s boyfriend who’d had a run-in with some non-local
Lycan. He was sure they were European, and what the heck were they doing in the U.S.? One reply asked why I hadn’t reached out to the IPPC if Lycan were causing problems over here. That guy was happy to tell me all about them. One of his friends was trying to get on as an investigator, so he was well-informed and excited to talk about the organization.”

“What you’re saying is you’re a creative research ninja, right?” John
said. “And either European cousins are more open than American Lycan, or you’re very persuasive.”

“A little of both.”
She said with a smile in her voice. “And if I ever open a business, I’m stealing that. Research Ninja for hire.” She turned the conversation back to the IPPC. “I have an IPPC contact. Do you want me to reach out, or would you prefer direct contact?”

“Give me the information. I’ll handle it.”

Lizzie had boarded the private jet quietly. Moe had produced her passport. Curly had produced two very familiar bags, likely packed with personal items from her home. Lizzie was sure under any other circumstances she would have felt violated. Some person broke into her home, a place she had always felt safe, and rummaged through her personal items. But she was just glad to have
her own clothes.

At this point, breaking and entering wasn’t even registering on her emotional scale. Fear for her safety and the safety of her family overrode other concerns.
And thoughts of magic books. What could she do that she hadn’t already? How could she fake her way around the fact that she didn’t have a skill everyone assumed she had mastered?

“Ingram, Paige,
Parisi, and Cunningham.”

“
Edward Harrington?” John queried. The man on the phone had answered with the organization’s cover name. He’d been briefed on the IPPC’s cover when Chris provided him with the contact information. The IPPC existed under the guise of a security and private investigation company. Lycan were law-abiding when advantageous to pack interests, and that included tracking income and paying taxes. In other words, avoiding imprisonment for tax evasion.

Harrington confirmed his identity. “Yes. How can I help you?”

“I understand you’ve been expecting my call. I’m John Braxton. I’m looking for assistance in locating a missing woman.” John was instructed not to reference magic or Lycan. Nothing outside human knowledge, basically. He much preferred speaking plainly. But they must have their reasons for practicing such caution.

“Braxton, the CEO of a large concern in Texas?” Harrington clearly recognized his name and position within the pack. He was surprised by the call. Faint, but the surprise was definitely there. Since he knew a
Lycan from Texas would be in touch, it must be his identity that came as a surprise.

“The same,”
John confirmed. “We know she flew out of the US headed for London, but we’re not certain if London was the final destination.”