Wolfen Secrets (The Western Werewolf Legend #3) (13 page)

Ty obeyed, listening as the fellow moved
forward several yards before striking a match.

The lantern’s glow illuminated the walls,
reflecting in either direction. Small indentions in the wall held
explosives. He was right in his summation of the earthen walls.
However, the width of the tunnel was wide enough for a large wagon
to fit. The wagon could have been loaded to the hilt as well. Up
ahead in a dim light was a room set up for storage. Crates stacked
with all manner of dry goods and metal tools along with wooden
boxes marked U.S.A. littered the wall stacked four or five high.
The black market was alive and well in St. Louis’s underground
system.

“You wait.” Gimped pumped his dirty fingers
at Ty. “I’ll fetch Sturgeon.” As if Ty was supposed to know whom he
referred to, the smuggler wheeled, his cheap suit flailing out in a
swirl of soiled finery. “Don’t move.” He pumped his hand behind him
as he scurried off like a rabbit late for a race.

Murmurs, faint voices, footsteps and bawdy
laughter floated back up the tunnel on the other side of the
makeshift storefront. The fellow must have indeed gone to get the
proprietor of this overpriced stockpile of hard to come by
acquisitions.

“Well now, you want ammunition, do ya?” The
big, burly man stood in the weak light of the lantern with his
thumbs shoved in the front pockets of his vest, which covered the
massive belly he carried. His hair was a dark mass of matted,
greasy strings under a boiler hat of smut brown. His chops and chin
hair hadn’t been tended in sometime. His grin was fierce as he ran
a surmising gaze over Ty. “I speck you’ll be needn’ enough to get
the job done. What ar’ ya offering?” The expression on the one
called Sturgeon’s face registered wary discontent at having been
disturbed by anybody at the late hour. “Speak up, as I don’t ‘ave
all night to squander with ya, Rebel.”

Ty’s gaze filtered up at the mention of his
war affiliation. How’d he know of his rank in the army? Warning
bells sounded in his head. Sturgeon had obviously done some
checking. What else did the man know about him or any of the
others? “I have what you asked for.” He laid the gold on the table.
United States made gold eagles stared back at the bargainers. “Four
thousand for forty boxes was the deal.”

The war had prices skyrocketing on all sides.
Paper money was weak currency. A man with gold could buy anything
he wanted. Sturgeon’s dull gray eyes lit with the presentation of
the money. “Willie.” Sturgeon turned to the boney thief standing
huddled behind him. Willie actually jerked.

“Sir.”

The one called ‘Willie’ might pee his
pants.

“Get Grison. The two of you lazy asses start
hauling these down to the water.” Willie started back stepping as
he bobbed his shaggy head in comprehension. As Sturgeon’s
subordinate disappeared, the burly boss turned back to Ty. “You
understand you’ll need a boat, right?”

“Right.” Ty kept his eyes on the leader of
the little band of smugglers. “You got more where this came
from?”

“Might.” Sturgeon’s brow cocked. “This
transaction ain’t finished yet.”

Ty nodded. “I’ll meet you tomorrow night
under the hill at midnight. Agreed?”

Sturgeon nodded. “Agreed.”

As Ty turned to leave, the boss chuckled
knowingly. “You’ll need a light to find your way back, yea?”

“Yea, I guess so.” Ty reached for the torch
Sturgeon passed him.

“Damn Yankees think they own everything. See
your ass tomorrow night. Don’t be late.” On that final observation,
the smuggler boss turned, agilely lumbering off into the darkness,
his heavy footfalls echoing long after he’d disappeared.

Ty’s breathing relaxed a fraction. Perhaps
he’d remain a free man another day. The shackles were closing in
though.

***

Sonja held her breath. Ty walked past her
position in the dank tunnel. If he’d spotted her she’d have had a
devil of a time explaining why she was there. Thank the gods, he
was down wind of her, or he’d have scented her out. What resounded
in her brain was, Why was he there buying ammunitions from
smugglers? You didn’t use guns to kill vampires. Her heart pounded
in her ears to the point she could barely think. At least he wasn’t
trifling with Claudine. No, her mate was slipping out, most likely
planning an attack without her. A sharp pain rippled through her
heart, making her weak at the knees. The blow was almost physical.
Not since the discovery of her vampire husband, had Sonja suffered
such an ache in her chest. Betrayal reared a hideous head before
smirking at her stupidity. Ty meant to what? Remind her that her
place was behind him? Or, he was in charge of all decision making?
Sonja clinched her fists. The urge to scream came on violently. She
wanted desperately to confront him on the spot. “No, I won’t take a
chance on being overheard. In this horrid tunnel, the sound would
echo forever,” she whispered to the rats lurking in the darkest
corners. “But, I’ll find out what he’s up to and when I do, Tyler
Loflin will rue the day he tried to hide vampire dealings from me.”
Grinding one fist into the other, Sonja pursed her mouth, growling
low into the darkness. Small mice squealed, scurrying away to
safety.

Hurrying to return before he missed her, she
shifted, the anger riding low in her gut providing the catalyst
necessary. Ignoring the discomfort of a temper-born shift, Sonja
raced back the way she’d come, sticking closely to the shadows in
the dark alleys until she could slip into a storage shed in back of
the hotel. There, as quietly as a werewolf could perform the task,
she shifted back into her human body. She donned the heavy
nightgown and robe she’d left there before following her mate.
Details in a well-orchestrated plan were vital. Had she not found
out Ty was waging war against the leaches without her help, she’d
have been more inclined to congratulate her cunning on a job well
done. As it was, she climbed the back stairs to the hotel, the ones
the chambermaids used, to return to her own bed.

In the gloom of the hallway sat a figure of a
long, lanky fellow in a chair positioned near one of the doors.
Sonja cursed for forgetting when Briann and the boys slumbered,
General Stewart guarded their slumber, she froze.

How she had missed such a point on her list
of things to remain vigilant for, she hadn’t a clue. Her victory
celebration would have to wait. No sooner than her feet reached the
boards of the floor at the end of the hall did Jeb seek her
out.

“You’re up late. What’s wrong?” Rising, the
general stretched his tall frame as she approached.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Trying for normalcy, Sonja
shrugged. “I went down in search of something - some warm milk.”
Nodding in agreement with the idea, she hurried on. “Not able to
sleep.” It wasn’t a complete lie as Briann had made the suggestion
to help her sister rest. Meeting his eyes was a feat she struggled
to perform. “Everything okay here?”

He eyed her over his cheroot. The swirl of
smoke hanging suspended about his dark head. “Everything’s fine
here. Did you get your milk?”

Darkly handsome features cut a chiseled
silhouette in the meager light of a lone lamp perched atop a stand.
Such good looks on a man were uncommon. Sonja fought the sudden
urge to wring her hands, instead shoving them into the pockets of
her robe. “Yes, yes, I got my milk.” Smiling quickly, she glanced
down at the floor. “Am I the only person you’ve seen tonight,
General?” Her voice broke over the last words. Her attempt at
appearing conversational fell fairly short of the mark. Had he seen
Ty leave as well?

Jeb cocked a brow in her direction before
blowing more smoke to his side of the hall. “Yes, I’ve been out
here all night. Haven’t seen a soul, not even you, my dear.” He
eyed her speculatively. “You must have really enjoyed your
milk.”

A flush of color rose in Sonja’s cheeks.
Mentally ticking off excuses she could add to the lie, she took her
right hand out of her pocket and rubbed her left forearm. “Yes, it
was very good with the pie I found in the icebox.” With a short
giggle, she was sure he didn’t believe a word she’d said. Her brow
beaded with perspiration. Her gut quivered with tension.

“A late night snack is a treat I’ve long ago
forgotten how to enjoy. Still, I do relish a good cigar every once
in a while.” Taking the cheroot in his hand, Jeb flicked ashes in a
nearby spittoon. “Tell Ty I’d like to talk with him tomorrow. We
have some things to go over before we cross the river. With the
spring thaws up river, we don’t need to dally long. Before you know
it, we’ll have missed our chance.” His eyes cut to hers.

Nerve endings sprang up. She licked her lips
wishing now she had that glass of milk. A bead of sweat trickled
down her backbone. “I’ll tell him, General. He’ll rise at his usual
time, I should think.”

“Good! Please, Mrs. Brooks, call me Jeb. I’m
retired now from the army. I’d appreciate it if you did.”

Her grip on her arm tightened. The corners of
her vision started to blur. A creeping panic she’d been drained
again by an undetected vampire surged to the forefront of her mind.
They’d been more vigilant since the discovery of Robert. Blinking,
she tried to focus again on the general.

“Sonja?” Jeb stepped toward her, his chair
scrapping the wood floor. “Are you alright?”

“I’m, I’m…fine…” There was a rush of
footsteps before the lights went out.

***

“Where did you say she’d been?” Ty couldn’t
help the pitch to his voice. His nerves were fraught with more than
tonight’s meeting. When Jeb had knocked on their bedroom door, he’d
been about to go out looking for his head strong woman. She
certainly could heap on the worry when she set her mind to it, he
mused.

“She came up the back stairs. Said she’d been
getting a glass of warm milk.”

“Warm milk? I didn’t even know she liked the
stuff.” Incredulous laced with nerves to the point of exasperated,
Ty moved from the bed to answer the door.

Hortence came bustling in without a word for
either of the men. Heading straight for the bed, she opened one of
Sonja’s eyelids, then the other. She checked the clock on the
mantel of the room’s small fireplace as she held Sonja’s wrist.
“You say she fainted?”

Without looking up, the old witch eased back
the covers, motioning for both men to leave. “I need to examine
her. “Please give us some privacy.”

Being used to the old woman’s crabby nature,
Ty opened the door. Jeb went through before Ty closed it firmly
behind him. “Old battle axe,” he murmured under his breath.

“She’s doing what she thinks is best.” Jeb
smiled companionably as he pulled out his smokes. Handing one of
his slim cigars to Ty, the general struck a sulfur match to the
tip. Drawing long and deep on the tobacco, he blew a slow stream of
smoke into the night air.

“She’s doing what the hell she pleases.
Furthermore, she’s become a big pain in my ass, that’s what she’s
doing.” Ty huffed out a breath. “Stubborn old mule!” One brow
cocked in irritation as he shared a squinted eye with the door.
“She thinks she’s in charge of us all.” He kicked at the spittoon
sitting in the hall. “Always got to have the last word.”

“I know she gets under your skin, son. The
fact is, without her spells, I’d not have been able to elude
Robert’s coven for very long at all. You, yourself said they’d be
out for revenge after we eliminated their king. Or, have you
forgotten that one tiny point?”

Ty drew hard on the cigar, letting the smoke
fill his throat. Slowly he blew out a breath. Ashes landed in the
brass bucket beside him. With a shake of his head, he admitted,
“No, I haven’t forgotten, General. It’s Hortence - she’s always
around. She’ll slip up on you in a heartbeat. If she’s not careful,
one day, I may put a bullet through her.” The show of frustration
played out on his face. “Damn it, what’s taking so long?” he asked
heatedly. “She should’ve been out here by now.” He took a step
toward the bedroom door. “I’m not waiting another minute. I don’t
care what she said. I’m going to find out what’s going on.”

The general snagged Ty’s arm before he could
do more. “Easy, Ty. The old witch will let us know when she’s
finished. Here, have a drink.” Jeb pulled a silver flask from the
inside pocket of his jacket. A mischievous grin played on his
mouth. “A man takes certain things with him in case of
emergencies.” Giving the flask a tip in Ty’s direction, he added,
“I’d say this constituted one of those emergencies.” Inclining his
dark head, Jeb studied the flask thoughtfully. “The potency of good
bourbon hits you hard before going down smooth. Washes away the
ache of what ails you. Least that’s what my pappy always said.”

Ty glanced sideways at the general. “Is that
so?” He swallowed as he remembered all the general had dealt with
being reborn a vampire.

“Do you remember much before the change? I
mean, Hortence said, time would haze the edges of your human
memories.”

Jeb glanced down at the empty lobby, pausing
in contemplative silence. “I thought the horrors of war were the
worst I could take home with me from this war. Having no home to go
back to is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever encountered.”

He brushed the dark hair back with his long,
agile fingers. The wink of a diamond caught in the light of an oil
lamp on the hallway wall. This was no ordinary farmer, who’d joined
because the crops were down and he’d have no way of surviving
without the paltry wages the Army of the Confederacy paid their
enlisted men. No, this was a blue-blood aristocrat from New
Orleans, whose pedigree included graduation from West Point with
honors. The general held numerous medals for his military skill and
bravery. The vampires must have reveled in turning him. Bringing
one of the South’s most illustrious leaders to his knees must have
been a boon in their eyes. “You’re wrong, General. You have a home.
You always will.” Ty laid a hand on Jeb’s shoulder. Their eyes met.
The recognition of what Ty implied hit Jeb squarely.