Authors: A. E. Jones
* * *
I stood at the office window, staring out at the snow as it streaked over the grass in random patterns, giving form to the frantic wind.
Griffin had summoned us to the house so we could report on our latest findings. Jean Luc, Jason, Misha, Doc, and I had arrived to find Bruce and Griffin waiting for us. Misha had just filled everyone in on the casino parking slip and holding company which pointed to Vegas.
“So have we looked into the casino? What’s its name?” Griffin asked.
Misha leaned forward. “It’s not on the main strip. It’s a smaller casino, but it attracts high rollers. Plus, although it’s been open for five years now, it doesn’t have a name.”
That was surprising.
“It doesn’t have a name?”
“Apparently it caters to very wealthy clientele, and people in Vegas refer to it as ‘The Casino.’ It does have a symbol on the front of the building.” Misha handed a picture to Jean Luc to pass around.
“Do we know anything about who owns it?” Griffin asked.
“It’s a bit sketchy, but from what I can find, the owner is a guy by the name of Lucas Chambers.” Misha smiled. “I thought that would get everyone’s attention.”
“What information were you able to discover, regarding this Lucas?” Jean Luc asked.
“Not much. He doesn’t appear to leave the casino very often. Or if he does, people don’t realize it’s him. There’s no description of him or pictures. I haven’t been able to trace any history. It’s like he didn’t exist before opening the casino.”
Griffin tapped a pen on his desk. “What about the staff?”
“I’ve begun to do some digging, but the majority I’ve run across so far have been human.”
“Human? Maybe we’re off base here,” Jason answered.
Doc interrupted them, “No, this is the place.” She held up the photo and pointed to the symbol on the building. “The dead shifters I examined all have this tattooed on their chests, right over their hearts.”
“What does the symbol mean?” Jason asked.
“Retribution,” I answered.
Jean Luc gazed at me for a few moments, as if he wanted to say something, then he looked away. A chill ran up my spine. I had no idea why I understood the symbol’s meaning.
Griffin nodded. “Let’s find out all we can about this place. Do we have any more information on the drug they injected into Gil?”
Doc replied. “It’s as I suspected—the drug mimics the hormones which are released during transition. It tricks the body into changing. But the drug is unstable. Gil had trouble holding his animal shape.”
“And he didn’t know who he was when he changed,” I added.
“That’s by design. If a shifter loses his human self, he loses his cognitive functioning. If he came up against a normal shifter, he would be at an extreme disadvantage.”
“Do we have anything to counteract it?” Griffin asked.
“Not yet, but I’ll keep working on it.”
Griffin stood and walked around the desk. “Do you have the autopsy results on Ken?”
“He was murdered. I found an injection site on his neck. Someone pushed air into his vein. It wouldn’t take much expertise. Anyone on the medical staff could have done it, or even a layman.”
There was no denying the undisputed evidence of a traitor in Griffin’s pack. I looked across the room at him. His face was expressionless. Even his eyes lacked spark. “Let’s finalize a plan,” he announced.
Chapter 38
I peered out the hangar bay doors, waiting for Griffin and the family to arrive at the private jet. Two days of planning had finally paid off. Things were going like clockwork. Griffin had received the invitation from Philippe. His family was on its way to the airport to leave for what they believed was a vacation in Switzerland. Bruce sat in the back of the hangar in the van we would use to transport the family to the safe house.
Jason had just finished examining the plane for bombs, electrical sabotage, or anything else which might pose a danger. The pilot was still going to have to take off if this ruse was going to work.
I turned when the SUV drove into the hangar. Misha was driving, and Griffin sat in the passenger seat. The vehicle came to a stop next to the plane, and the group piled out. The Connors and Bea were smiling, vacation excitement buzzing around them. Unfortunately, the mood would change soon enough.
I stood back from the crowd, and Misha walked over to me.
“How did Griffin convince Stephen not to come in here?” I asked.
“Stephen is outside with two guards, watching to make sure no one approaches the runway. Griffin told him Jason was checking the plane over as well.”
“He was okay with that?”
Misha shook his head. “He’s not happy about this situation. He wants to send guards with the family to Switzerland. Since Philippe is a bit of a recluse, Griffin is refusing to bring a contingent of guards. Stephen reluctantly agreed when he was told Jean Luc, Jason, and I were flying with the family as escorts.”
I blew out my breath. Another bullet dodged. We walked over to the group who had just finished unloading their suitcases from the SUV.
Bea looked surprised to see me. “Kyle, what are you doing here?”
Trina just looked at me and sighed. “We’re still in danger, aren’t we?”
She was freakishly intuitive. Griffin placed his hand on her shoulder. “Yes, Trina, we are. We’re not going to Switzerland.”
“What’s going on?” Tim demanded, while Stephanie reached down and scooped a squirming Molly into her arms.
Griffin continued. “Not everyone was caught in the raid the other night. Misha is going to take you to a safe house for the time being.”
“What about you?” Bea asked.
“I’m going to protect our family.”
“Damn it, Seamus, you’re going to get yourself killed,” Bea snapped, her eyes filling with tears.
Griffin didn’t blink. “I’m doing what I have to do. Now get your bag and go to the van in the back. Once the plane takes off, and Stephen and the guards have left, the van will take you to the safe house.”
The group complied, their earlier joyful mood dimmed by fear and confusion. I tried to reassure them, but the words sounded hollow, even to me.
Bea grasped my arm and took me aside. “Are you going to watch out for him?”
“Yes.”
“He’s trying to be heroic. Don’t let him do anything stupid.”
“I won’t.”
She gave me a quick hug and went with the rest of the group toward the van at the back of the hangar.
The pilot climbed out of the plane and frowned when he saw the group walking away. “Is something wrong, sir?”
Griffin shook his head. “No, I need you to take off now. You’ll be flying to Switzerland alone with important documentation for Philippe. He’ll meet you at the airport. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
We watched the plane back out of the hangar and take off, and Stephen and the guards left a few minutes later.
Misha loaded everyone into the van and drove off.
Griffin stepped up to me. “Why aren’t you in the van?”
“I’m not going with them. Bruce and Misha will watch over your family, along with some help from Misha’s clan.”
Griffin turned to Jean Luc, summarily dismissing me. “You were able to secure another plane for me?”
I interrupted. “Actually, I did.”
He turned and his eyes narrowed on mine. “How?”
“I’ll let our benefactor explain things when he gets here.”
As if on cue, a small plane maneuvered into the hangar, the engine’s roar precluding any form of communication. The engine powered down, and moments later, the side door of the plane opened and stairs descended.
Boris stepped out in all his magnificence. Misha’s dad was a showman—that much was obvious. As usual, he was impeccably dressed, wearing a gray suit made by a designer I was sure I should recognize.
He smiled when he saw me and kissed me on both cheeks. “Kyle, it has been too long.”
“Yes it has.”
Boris winked at me before turning to Griffin. “Good to see you again. I just wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”
“Thank you for the use of your plane and safe house.”
“Kyle can be very persuasive, and since I have a business engagement in Las Vegas, the timing was perfect.”
Griffin stared at me for a second. “Yes, she can. Thank you all for your help.” He turned to go up the stairs.
I grasped his arm. “Wait, I need to speak with you alone.”
For a moment, I thought he was going to argue, but he finally nodded and walked with me away from the group.
Griffin spoke first. “I appreciate what you’ve done, but I don’t want to hold up Boris any longer. This is where we split up.”
“No. Here’s where the plan changes a bit. Jean Luc, Jason, and I are going with you. There’s no way you’re going after this Lucas alone.”
If tiny pinpricks of light had not sparked in his pupils, I wouldn’t have known how pissed he was. “Absolutely not.”
“You wouldn’t allow a member of your pack to go on this mission alone without backup. Why do you do less for yourself?”
“I will not let anyone else die for me.”
“Tough. You don’t get to make that choice. We will go with you, or Boris will not take you to Vegas.”
“You cannot demand that of him!”
“Actually, she can,” Boris stepped closer. “Kyle is a member of my clan, and as such, her requests take precedence over yours.”
I glared at Boris.
“Sorry, but we can hear what you’re saying, I thought I might be able to expedite matters. Are we ready to go?”
Griffin gave a brusque nod.
Boris slapped his hands together. “Excellent. Let’s go, then. On the way, I’ll tell you how Kyle was inducted into the clan after this one—” Boris pointed his finger at Jason “—tried to kill Misha.”
Jason blanched. “I apologized.”
“Misha accepted your apology. I did not.”
I rolled my eyes at Jean Luc, who grinned slightly. This should be a fun flight.
Chapter 39
It was surreal being back in Nevada. The fading pink sunset ran along the desert rim as we sped along the highway, Jean Luc driving our rental car in his usual speed-demon style. Griffin sat stiffly in the front seat next to him.
We were staying on Fremont Street in a motel away from the strip. Jason sat with me in the back seat talking to Misha on the secure phone we’d brought along. After a couple of minutes he hung up. “Misha said everything’s fine. They’re at the safe house and settled in. Bruce is teaching Trina how to play poker.”
I chuckled. “She’ll fleece him.”
“Probably. Misha’s also working on blueprints for the casino.”
Griffin looked over his shoulder. “When will he have them?”
“In the next few hours. He’s also going to send us a list of contacts here.”
“We should be at the motel shortly,” Jean Luc announced. “We can check in, clean up, and discuss next steps.”
Griffin’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror for a second before he turned back to stare at the highway.
* * *
I wiped the steam-covered mirror with the damp towel I had used after my shower. It was so rough I was surprised it didn’t scratch the glass. It took several swipes of the towel to clear the fog, and I sighed in frustration. I didn’t think of myself as a hotel snob, but this motel was a pit. The fan in the shower didn’t even work, hence the London fog hovering in the bathroom.
I finger-combed my damp hair and leaned in closer to examine my bloodshot eyes. When the telltale hint of roses wafted through the air, I rested my forehead against the clammy mirror for a second. “What do you want, Marie?”
“Is that any way to greet me?” she grumbled as she materialized behind me.
“It’s the best I can do today.”
She
tsked,
and I turned.
Her eyes widened. “Sweetie, you look terrible.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re not taking care of yourself. When’s the last time you had a good night’s sleep?”
I tried to think of a witty response, but she was right. I hadn’t slept well in days. There had been a few catnaps here and there, but nothing substantial.
I was terrified to sleep. If I didn’t dream of bear shifters, I was having memory flashes of Trina’s abduction and random names still flashed in my head. The name Thomas Wilson shouted in my brain with irritating consistency, and frighteningly, a new name had emerged from the cacophony over the past few days—Charles Hilliard.
She continued, “You’re too skinny, too.”
“Marie.” I walked out of the bathroom and sat down on the bed, struggling to get my socks on.
“Have you eaten today, Kyle?”
“A donut this morning.”
“You’re not doing anyone any good if you don’t eat.”
“Stop! I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
Marie hovered in the bathroom doorway, tut-tutting at me. “Everyone needs someone to take care of them. You just don’t know how to let them in. Maybe it’s why you’re so drawn to the shifter. He holds everyone at arm’s length too. Plus, he’s a hottie.”