The Road to Redemption (21 page)

“Not really. I
don’t recall Sam mentioning it when she renovated the cellar. It
could even be sealed up I suppose.”

Damien
couldn’t imagine Sam not being aware of a secret entrance, but she
might have kept the information to herself like the proverbial ace
up her sleeve.

“You know, you
did well to pick up that trace of a scent, Hiram. It could be that
you actually scared him off.”

“You think
so?” Hiram stood a bit straighter.

“Yep.” He
glanced around the area once more. “Listen, your shift is over. Go
take a break and I’ll check the cellar then report what I find to
Sam when she gets back.”

“Well… If
you’re sure.”

Damien clapped
him on the back. “I am.”

Hiram nodded
and went on his way, much to Damien’s relief. While it was doubtful
Dante was still around, he didn’t want to chance his confrontation
with the man being observed.

He entered the
cellar, all senses on alert. The room appeared normal, no hint of
lilacs, no prickling of that mysterious sixth sense he’d come to
rely on over the years. Relaxing, he began to patrol the perimeter
looking for evidence of the secret passageway Hiram had spoken
of.

Eyeing the
walls, he looked for obvious cracks in the stone work and minute
gaps in the wooden framing. Nothing was immediately evident, but
he’d have expected nothing less of Sam. If the pack house had a
hidden entrance, she’d have kept it under wraps, an Alpha’s
privileged information. The mirrored walls, however, presented a
distinct possibility and he soon found what he was looking for. One
was hinged and, when it swung outward, it became evident there was
a false wall along that end of the cellar.

A small
knothole proved to be a makeshift door handle and he soon found
himself in a narrow room. Conveniently, a small flashlight hung on
a nail near the entrance, giving evidence that someone used the
space on a regular basis. He shone the light around the cramped
space. Old, dusty crates were stacked at one end as well as a few
empty liquor bottles, remnants of the illegal alcohol Hiram had
spoken about. Childish scrawl on the wall, boldly signed with a
flourished ‘S’, hinted at the fact that Sam likely had discovered
the room years ago.

He imagined
her as a child, playing imaginative games in the small room,
perhaps hiding from her grandfather when she was in trouble, or
keeping a secret stash of candy for emergencies. A smile curved his
lips at the mental image of wide violet eyes in a small face,
perhaps her dark hair held back in pigtails. Would her pups share
her unique eye colour? His heart gave a quiver at the idea and he
frowned, forcing himself to recall his purpose. Now where was the
entrance to the passageway?

He tested the
walls then studied the ceiling. Cobwebs festooned most of the area
except one corner and closer examination showed a well-hidden
hatch. Using one of the old crates as a step stool, he peered into
the space. It was narrow, about eighteen inches across, barely wide
enough for a grown man to squeeze through. From what he could see,
the passage extended about ten feet and then a simple wooden ladder
led upwards. Well, that explained the discrepancies he’d noticed in
the rooms of the house on his first day. Some enterprising Alpha
had constructed a series of false walls throughout the place.
Damien nodded at the ingenuity before stepping back down and
returning the hatch to its proper location. Sometime when he knew
Sam would be gone for a few hours, he’d have to explore this
further. Right now, he’d better get back to the kitchen. Somehow,
he knew she wouldn’t be pleased that he’d discovered her
secret.

As he left the
cellar and headed towards the kitchen, a bit of movement near his
motorcycle attracted his attention. A scrap of string was dangling
from the handles. Some garbage that was blowing in the wind
or…?

It was a piece
of yarn with a piece of paper attached. He was sure he could hear
Dante’s taunting tones as he read the message:
Damien, I
congratulate you. You’re doing an excellent job as Beta. I’m sure
the remuneration is sufficient that you won’t mind sharing it with
me, given that it was supposed to be my job to begin with. Unless
you want me to have a chat with Sam Harper, that is. I’ll be
expecting payment tonight.”

Damien crushed
the paper in his hand and did a slow turn, looking for any signs of
the man. The bastard had been here, right under his nose, dammit,
and he’d missed him. Was he still in the area, watching and even
now laughing?

Glancing at
the paper once again, he noted the location and time. Crap. Sam
would be expecting him to be on patrol with her. A frustrated growl
escaped him. He’d have to think of an excuse and fast.

Sam was
approaching the pack house when she noticed someone exiting the
driveway. Nothing unusual, really. People did stop by from time to
time. However, something about how this individual was moving
caught her attention. There was a furtiveness in the way they
looked around and then quickly walked away. The size and build were
correct for it to be Damien’s friend, Lilac Man.

If it was, it
would be like pulling teeth trying to get information out of
Damien. Deciding she’d find out for herself, she began following
him.

After turning
the corner, the man visibly relaxed. Sam sneered at his
self-assurance. His pace was moderate, giving no indication he’d
noticed she was following him. As they wove in and out of the other
pedestrians, she sniffed the air, trying to pick up his scent, but
it was indiscernible from that of the other humans around them. The
lilac smell she’d come to associate with him was there, though it
seemed to dissipate at a strangely fast rate.

The pedestrian
traffic thinned and she had to slow down, increasing the space
between them in order to avoid being noticed. The neighbourhood
changed from residential, to business and eventually to warehouses.
It was an older area, a number of the buildings were empty and
sprayed with graffiti. Most people would hesitate to walk by
themselves through this part of town but Lilac Man didn’t slow his
pace. She was trying to speculate where he might be heading, when
he suddenly turned down a side street.

Giving a
curse, she hurried to catch up, anxious to keep him in sight. There
were plenty of places for someone to disappear into if they didn’t
want to be found. Rounding the corner, she looked for the man, but
just as she’d feared he was nowhere to be seen.

“Hell.” She
cursed but wasn’t ready to admit defeat quite yet. Cocking her head
to the side, she moved forward listening carefully, scanning the
area for movement. Bits of garbage slowly scuttled down the street
in the gentle breeze. Sun glinted off broken shards of glass.
Behind her, she could hear the distant sounds of traffic, but this
particular street was devoid of vehicles of any kind.

A noise to her
right had her turning sharply. It sounded like someone kicking a
tin can. Had Lilac Man forgotten to watch his footing?

Sam licked her
lips and glanced around her. It could be a set up. Some gang luring
her behind a building only to jump her once she left the supposed
safety of the street. Or it could actually be her quarry.

Well, faint
hearts never won and all that other crap, she muttered to herself
deciding to follow the source of the noise.

Her wolf
nodded in agreement, on its feet and ready to react if called
upon.

Step by step
she approached the rear of the building. Another sound had her
tensing her muscles prepared to react, then the scent of several
humans began to tickle her nose. No hint of lilacs, but that didn’t
mean he wasn’t in the area. Voices became audible next and, as she
rounded the corner, she shook her head and relaxed.

“Hey, Wes.”
She called out the name of a local thug. Small time, no threat to
her or her family. She’d kicked his butt more than once for messing
with people in the neighbourhood, though.

“Sam.” He
nodded, looking less than pleased to see her. The kid beside him—he
was all of eighteen from the look of him—wasn’t someone she knew,
but the tough guy stance he took made her want to laugh.

“I haven’t
seen you around for a while.” She hooked one thumb in a belt loop
and casually rested her weight on one leg.

“Guess we
don’t move in the same social circles.” Wes replied mockingly.

“True.” She
didn’t rise to his bait. “I’m looking for a friend. I thought I saw
him head this way.”

“No one here
but us.”

“Hmm…okay.”
She nodded then flicked a glance to the male who was slowly inching
his way towards her. “Wes, tell your friend to back off, or he’ll
be very sorry.” Her tone was conversational, matter of fact. She
could handle the situation, she’d just prefer not to.

“Back off,
Mick.”

“She yours?”
Mick looked between the two of them.

Sam gave an
inelegant snort and Wes scowled at her.

“Nah. She’s an
ice queen, don’t bother. Your dick would freeze.”

Mick shrugged
and stepped away.

Sam didn’t
react to his comment. He wasn’t worth it. Instead, she gestured
towards the purse Wes was holding. “Making a fashion statement or
stealing from little old ladies again?”

Wes shifted
uneasily, likely recalling how she’d broken his nose last time
she’d caught him picking on the seniors in the neighbourhood. What
humans did to each other wasn’t her concern, but sometimes she felt
the need to step in when the battle was decidedly unbalanced.

“No. I…er…Mick
found it. Somebody lost it and we were looking to see who owned
it.”

“Right.” She
didn’t bother to hide her disbelief. “Hand it over and I’ll make
sure it gets back to its owner.”

Wes hesitated,
rubbed his crooked nose and then tossed the purse on the ground at
her feet.

“Hey—” Mick
started to protest, but a look from Wes had him closing his
mouth.

“Believe me,
Mick, it ain’t worth it. Best leave before she goes psycho bitch on
you.”

Mick gave her
a disbelieving look, but another warning glare from Wes had him
giving a shrug and walking away.

“You’re
protégé is a real tough guy.” Sam mocked.

Wes’ face
flushed. “Don’t mess with me, Sam. I’m moving up in the world. Been
hired by some guy with international connections.”

“I’m so
impressed.” She rolled her eyes.

Wes glared at
her. “You should be. He’s got a big score going down tonight and
I’m helping him.”

“Is it as big
as your mouth is?” What kind of idiot bragged about an illegal job?
It was a miracle Wes wasn’t already in jail.

“One of these
days…”

She raised a
brow and he immediately shut up.

Loser, she
thought to herself as he walked away.

Her hormones
were out of whack, she decided. Wes had declared she was an ice
queen and it irritated the hell out of her. Not that Wes would
know; she’d never even considered his lame pickup lines. But
following on the heels of Damien’s rejection at the pool hall, the
comment had definitely soured her mood. It wasn’t often she made a
blatantly sexual play for a male. Damien’s hesitation had
stung.

Hell, twice in
one day males had made her question her femininity. Watch out men,
she said to herself, the next guy to piss me off is going to regret
it.

She bent down
and grabbed the purse and checked the ID inside. Yep, a little old
lady. Wes was going to get it next time she saw him. Elders
deserved respect.

Stuffing the
wallet back inside the bag, she headed towards the nearest mailbox
trusting the post office to ensure it was returned. Trying to hand
it over to the cops would result in too many questions.

As she left
the area, a distinctive twitch formed between her shoulder blades.
Someone was watching her. Lilac Man? She resisted the urge to spin
around and look. Let the bastard think she was unaware for the
moment. It would make him bolder, less cautious and then, next
time, she’d get him.

Damien glanced around the table. Dinner was
unusually silent. Perhaps it was his excellent chili or, his gaze
strayed to where Sam sat, more likely it was the fact that she’d
returned in a mood and everyone was picking up the vibes she was
giving off. Whatever the case, Damien watched her surreptitiously
as he went through a mental list of excuses to get out of going on
patrol. If need be, he’d pull the rogue card and just disappear. It
wasn’t ideal, however he couldn’t chance Dante showing up here and
blowing his cover.

Hiram spoke,
breaking the silence. “Damien and I think Sinclair’s spy was in the
area today.”

Sam looked up
from her meal and shot a look at him. “And you didn’t think to tell
me until now?”

“No chance.”
Damien calmly took a bite of chili before elaborating. “You were
late getting home. I was busy in the kitchen.”

She set down
her spoon with exaggerated care. “I have time now. Elaborate.”

“I was heading
home when I picked up the scent,” Hiram began.

“We checked
the area but couldn’t find him.” Damien continued, hoping to
prevent Hiram from mentioning their discussion of the hidden
passageway. “He was likely testing your defences, but since Hiram
noticed him right away, I’d say he has nothing to report back to
Sinclair.”

“Good work,
Hiram.” She gave the older man an approving smile.

“And Damien,
he helped too.” Hiram added seeming eager to share the praise.

“Of course.”
Sam nodded, but it was distinctly cool.

The group fell
quiet again. A few members shot sympathetic glances his way,
apparently having decided he was the one who would end up taking
the brunt of Sam’s temper. He gave a brief smile appreciating their
support. It was a nice feeling, knowing they were on his side.