Vann's Victory (8 page)

“Thank God for that.” Vann coughed. “May I have a glass of water, please? We haven’t had any food or drink for hours.”

“Hmm. Hours.” Wickland stubbed his cigar out in a gold-colored dish. He stood, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s what’s bothering me. It must have taken days to get to Highgate—it’s over the other side of Texas—so how did you get back so quickly?”

Vann took a breath to fortify himself for what was to come. “We hitched a ride, sir. And you’re going to go on quite a ride yourself.”

He stood, his legs a little unsteady, and brought the Taser up to point it at Wickland’s belly. Wickland didn’t have time to bolt or even blink. Vann fired the Taser, and Wickland staggered against the wall. His body shook, his eyes bulged more than usual, and he let out a garbled sound. Vann stared, rooted to the spot, unable to believe he’d tasered his new alpha. A part of him reasoned it was wrong—the ingrained part of him that had been brought up to respect his leader no matter how he’d been treated—but the other part rejoiced. He clung onto that euphoria as Wickland slumped to the floor, a jittering mass of a man who’d created so much fear inside Vann as he’d grown up that Vann was instantly apprehensive.

“No worrying now, Sir. We had to do this.”
Kip was at Vann’s side in a second, phone out.

He jabbed a message, presumably to Dillon, and Vann just stared at Wickland, wishing his brain would kick into gear and he could do what had to be done next.

“Snap out of it, Sir! I can see the others on the monitor. They’re fighting with guards at the rear entrance. As wolves—it could get nasty. Hurry!”

Vann shoved away his inability to move, forcing himself to the other side of the desk so he could bundle the curly Taser wires into a heap then go on to the next stage. A medal hung from a hook on the wall, one Bennett had apparently won as a cub. Vann grabbed it, intending to use the material necklace part to bind Wickland’s wrists. He knelt, hating having to touch the man, even though the scar-faced bastard was now out for the count. Once he’d secured Wickland’s wrists, he stuffed the Taser into his bag then took out the phone.

He sent a message to Alpha Newart, who responded quickly, assuring Vann that his men, Marcus and Robert, among others, were on their way. A touch of relief gave Vann the courage to reach down and get the door key out of Wickland’s pocket and the bunch hanging off his belt loop. He could free the cubs now, spring open the padlocks that had ensured those children could never escape.

If we make it down into the basement.

The sounds of muffled yelps and snarls filtered into the room.

“The Highgate men are coming, Sir.”

Vann looked at the monitors, more relief pouring into him that Dillon stood outside the study door. His wolf form was so regal, gave off such an air of command that Vann allowed himself to relax. He unlocked the door, and Dillon padded in. He sniffed Wickland then sneezed.

“Cigars,” Vann said.

Dillon wasted no time ushering other wolves in with a flick of his muzzle. They each took a piece of Wickland’s clothing in their mouths then dragged him out into the foyer. Vann and Kip went with them, Kip with his Taser in hand ready to zap anyone who got in their way. At the basement door, Vann sorted through the keys, judging which one fitted the lock. It took several attempts before he found the right one, but once he had, he swung the door wide. Dillon went down the stairs backwards, tugging Wickland over each step. With five Highgate wolves helping, once they’d reached the bottom Wickland was placed in an empty cell. Vann found the right key for that on the first attempt. He locked Wickland in, staring at him through the bars.

He couldn’t believe they’d managed this. It took a few seconds for it to sink in. Never in his life before he’d left Crossways would he have thought anyone would have the guts to overpower Wickland or Bennett, let alone sling them in a cell. It was surreal, as though he’d dreamt the whole thing. Or
was
he dreaming? Was their escape and return here just one long dream and he’d wake any moment to find his mind had played a cruel trick on him?

Shit. Please don’t let that be what this is. Let it be real.

He studied Wickland again, convincing himself that however real his dreams had been in the past, none felt as real as this one. The man was a heap on the cement floor, resting in the fetal position. Vann felt no sympathy, just pure hatred as he thought of all the things Wickland had put the pack through as Bennett’s head of security. Wickland deserved no mercy, and an emotion streamed through Vann, one so strong and alien it made him catch his breath.

I want to kill him.

“That’s my fault, Sir. My feelings have been transferred. I’m afraid I feel no remorse for that man. If I could, I’d get in there and maul him to death like he mauled my mom. I feel the same about every single one of them who helped kill her. I should turn the other cheek, like I told you I could, but I can’t seem to make these feelings go away this time.”

“They’re so dark, Kip. They’re not like you.”

“I’ve kept them hidden. They weren’t meant to seep out, Sir.”

Dillon appeared in human form beside Vann, swiping away the chance for more silent conversation. Vann turned to him, his back to Wickland—
I can’t stand to look at that bastard anymore.

“One of our teams has spoken to your father, who directed us to the people on Wickland’s side, the ones who would rule here in Wickland’s absence if they got the chance,” Dillon said. “Your father said only five men were truly loyal to Wickland as far as he knew—our other men should be bringing them down here shortly.” He glanced around the basement. “Where are the cubs?”

Dread pooled in Vann’s belly. He looked around in the murkiness. All the other cells were empty. He’d been so intent on securing Wickland he hadn’t thought to check the cubs before.

Shit.

“I don’t know.” Vann grimaced. “They’re usually always here.”

“I suspect Wickland knew something was up.” Dillon frowned.

“He said, when he let us through the gate, that he’d call his guards away. I thought it weird that no one was in the foyer. That must have been why. He had his men down here, taking the cubs elsewhere. Him saying he wanted to deal with me and Kip by himself was bullshit.”

“So there are more men loyal to Wickland, not just five like your father said?”

“I don’t know. There must be. But maybe the ones taking the cubs only did so because they were told to. I’ll speak to my father and find out, but if he said only five, I’d believe him. If there are more, then they’ve obviously kept their feelings on the subject to themselves. Possibly pretended they’re on their fellow shifters’ sides all these years so they could get information to pass along to Bennett or Wickland.”

“Any other places on the property they’re likely to be?” Dillon stared at Vann hard. “Come on, man. Think. They could be long gone by now—not even at Crossways!”

“Fuck.” Vann’s mind went vacant in his panic to come up with a suitable answer.

He was saved by Wickland’s five men being dragged down the stairs by the rest of the Highgate wolves. Vann opened Wickland’s cell then stepped back so his unconscious cohorts could be dumped inside with their evil leader. They formed an unruly pile, and Vann got immense satisfaction from seeing Wickland squashed beneath the others.

But was that his feeling or Kip’s?

“Mine, Sir. I hope he suffocates to death.”

“I never thought I’d say this about someone, but I do too. How can we not think these things after what we’ve been through because of them? Try not to feel guilty. They certainly felt no guilt when they treated us the way they did. They enjoyed it, I’m sure of that.”

Vann sent out a wave of love to Kip then locked the cell, thankful for the first time that the bars were close together to prevent escape. Dillon went to the bottom of the stairs. He switched on a light, which bathed the basement in such harsh illumination that Vann had to blink while his eyes became accustomed to the change.

“Vann’s father is gathering the rest of the pack now,” Dillon said to everyone. “We have a new job to do, one we didn’t anticipate. We have to search every property on this compound. The cubs have been moved.” He looked at everyone in turn. “As with our usual missions in the past, we spread out—you know the drill. Vann and Kip, because you’re not familiar with how we work, go to the community room and help your father explain things to the rest of the pack.”

Vann nodded, eager to see his parents and Terena again.

“Tell everyone what their options are,” Dillon went on. “Also tell them Alpha Newart’s men will be here shortly, Newart half an hour or so after that. If anyone gives you hassle, bring them down here to be on the safe side. Once Newart is here, he can deal with discovering who’s good and who isn’t.” He lifted his chin. “Now, we have work to do. Find those goddamn cubs.”

Dillon shifted then took the stairs swiftly. All but one of the wolves were hot on his tail. A dark brown wolf sat outside the cell containing the men. He flicked his head at Vann, who took Kip’s hand and led him from the basement.

In the foyer, Vann paused to gather his strength and wits. Everything had happened so quickly he needed a moment to breathe and process. The adrenaline rush had seen him through the events so far, but now a wave of fatigue took hold of him. His limbs weakened, and his mind didn’t appear to want to work. Everything was blank in there.

“Come on, Sir. We’re almost there. I can feel it.”

Vann shook himself alert, forcing his body to move. They ran to the pack house. Pausing on the porch, Kip sniffed the air, cocking his head, then shifted to his wolf form. He slid his Taser bag strap into his mouth.

“I can smell the cubs, Sir.”

Vann was torn between doing as Dillon had asked and waiting for Kip to let him know which direction he thought the cubs had been taken.

“Dillon said they’d search every property,”
Vann said.
“So we should do what he told us and—”

“They’re not in any of the apartments or the pack house, Sir.”
Kip trotted a short way over the lawn.
“They went this way.”
He looked over his shoulder at Vann.

There was no need for Kip to say another word.

Vann shifted. He scooped up his bag strap then went to Kip’s side.
“Which way?”

“Over there.”
Kip loped ahead, nose to the ground.

Vann felt Kip frowning.

“There’s nothing over there but grass, Kip, and it doesn’t lead to the road. All that’s there is fucking land and lots of it.”

“Maybe they got picked up by a vehicle beyond anywhere we’ve been allowed to go before, Sir. We have no idea what else is over there. Don’t forget, when we were given permission to run, we weren’t to go far.”

“In which case, it’s pointless us wasting time running that way.”

“It isn’t. I can feel them close, Sir. Please, they’re my family.”

Vann picked up his pace behind Kip as the white wolf streaked ahead. If Vann didn’t hurry, Kip would be so far in the distance it’d take Vann a while to catch up. He couldn’t allow his mate to do this alone. And if Kip said those cubs were out this way, then Kip would be right.

He usually always was.

Chapter Eight

Kip sniffed. The smell of the cubs increased. They were here somewhere, out in this vast patchwork of land. In the far distance he could just make out guard wolves on the perimeter of Crossways land—maybe they were unaware of the Highgate men taking command. They appeared calm. He couldn’t tell from where he was which wolves they were or whether they were loyal to Wickland. Vann and Kip might have a problem if spotted.

About one hundred yards ahead, the terrain changed. It was flatter, no grass wafting in the breeze. Kip hadn’t been out this far before—no one on Crossways was allowed—so he squinted to try to see clearer. Yes, there was definitely a difference. Kip went closer, slowing, wary of what he’d find. Vann caught up, panting hard.

“What the fuck is that?”
Vann asked.

Kip gave a shrug and stared at a circle of rough cement. At its center, a smaller metal circle had him frantically trying to work out why it would be here. There wasn’t a padlock in sight, so he assumed the door—it had to be a door, right?—was open.

“Some kind of doorway, Sir?”

Vann slid to the ground then shifted to human form. He turned onto his back.
“I saw guards. You’d better get down on the ground.”
He dug into his bag to pull out his phone. Prodding the keys, he grimaced.
“Letting Dillon know we’re here. I’m not going to open that hatch until he responds.”

Kip saw the sense in that and hunkered down, waiting patiently—if getting antsy and wanting to investigate that opening was classed as patient. The cubs’ scent was so strong here that the hatch couldn’t be airtight. They were beneath that metal circle, he was certain of it.

Vann’s phone bleeping had Kip snapping his head around.

“Dillon and some others are on their way.”
Vann put the phone away.
“He said to go ahead but to be careful. I’ll have to open the hatch. No way you can do it in that form.”

Kip wanted to whine in frustration.
“Very well, Sir.”

Vann soldier-crawled toward the hatch. Kip joined him. Vann tugged at a metal loop, wincing at the loud grating noise when it turned and scraped against the surrounding iron it was attached to. The sound echoed into the night. He glanced toward the pacing wolves. They hadn’t heard a thing, it seemed. Vann lifted the door a bit. Yellow light spilled out, creating a corona.

He lowered the hatch slightly.
“Those guard wolves might see the light when we open it fully and go in.”

“Tough. Dillon’s on the way. By the time we’re down there, help will have come. I smell them stronger now, the cubs. They’ve been brought out here, no question.”
Kip nudged Vann’s arm.
“We need to look inside. To see if I have to shift to be able to get in. If there’s a ladder, I might find it difficult like this.”