Wolf's Capture (18 page)

Judging by the scrapes on his legs, someone had dragged him, but not too far because he recognized the interior of the general store.

“What happened?” he asked.

“You got jumped, old man.”

Duh. Trust the younger grizzly to point out the obvious.

As the effects of the drug cleared, Brody peered around, taking in the signs of violence. Of more import than the damage they’d caused, where was his woman?

“Where’s Layla?”

“Who?”

“The girl I was with. Long hair. Tanned skin.” Hot body and most important thing to him right now. “Where is she?” Why couldn’t he scent her?

“Sorry, dude. There was no chick when we got here. Just a few scrawny dudes trying to lug your carcass across the floor. Bunch of pussies couldn’t even lift you. I assumed you wouldn’t want to go with them, so I grizzlied their asses.” Travis beamed, which to those who didn’t know him meant a shit-eating grin that stretched from ear to ear and invited more than one fist to wipe it.

“I’m afraid to ask what that means.”

“I took them out of course.”

“More like bashed their skulls together,” rumbled another familiar voice. Boris appeared, looking as ornery as ever, and totally welcome. If the moose was around, then Brody was safe from everyone but idiots.

“Hey, not all of us think it’s appropriate to tear the limbs off our opponents to use them as clubs.”

“Then you’re missing all the fun,” Boris replied with an evil grin.

“Doesn’t Jan get pissed at all the bloody laundry you must make?”

“My mate usually cheers me on when I get all badass. And when the rack comes out…” The smug smile on Boris’ face said it all.

“What is it about chicks digging the horns?” Travis complained. “I don’t get it.”

“They’re called antlers. And the women dig them because they’re majestic.”

“And make great coat racks.” Travis ducked just in time. The fist aimed his way only brushed the top of his head.

It didn’t curb his tongue. “Getting slow, old man.”

Whack
. The punch Boris followed up with connected, and Travis staggered. Boris snorted. “Old? Ha. It’s called a sucker punch, the oldest trick in the book.”

Yay for Brody, the cavalry—with its nonstop rivalry—had arrived. Boris, the deadliest moose you never wanted to meet, was here with everyone’s most annoying sidekick, Travis.

Poor kid. Despite his mid-twenties age, he kept trying to be one of the guys, but he’d not gotten exposed to the bonding time the rest of them had during their stint in the military. His lack of experience, though, didn’t stop him from tagging along—and for the most part, they let him. Like a younger kid brother, Travis took the brunt of the ribbing and blows. Tough love. But Travis didn’t seem to mind because the cub always popped back up smiling.

However, his sense of humor could become grating. Like now when Brody was stressed about Layla’s disappearance.

While usually Brody would participate in taking Travis down a notch or two—under the guise of teaching him—he kind of had more pressing matters to deal with such as, “Can we get back on track here and discuss the dudes you head-knocked? What did you do with them after you dropped their asses?”

“Took them prisoner, of course.”

Prisoners who liked to commit suicide. “Make sure you keep their mouths open—”

“I know,” interrupted Boris. “Don’t forget I was there when the first ones we caught bit their bullet. I’ve got our little friends gagged with a stick so they can’t chomp down until the doc gets here. Once she removes the problem teeth, we’ll question them.”

“What do you mean when she gets here? Wasn’t she with you guys?”

Travis shook his head. “Nah. Reid and the others are still on their way. You just lucked out Boris and I were in the area.”

“We were looking for your hairy ass,” Boris added.

“Although, now that I’ve seen it, I have to admit there wasn’t as much fur as expected.” Travis noted. “Do you shave?”

No, but Brody could glare.

“Smooth naturally?” Travis whistled. “You lucky bastard. Anyhow, we showed up just in time apparently. What happened? Of all the guys, you’re one of the last ones I would have expected to see surprised by an ambush. Did they distract you with some local pussy so they could take you out?”

“Kind of. Except Layla’s not a local girl. She was a prisoner of the douchebag who has been bugging our town.”

“Don’t tell me you fell for her story of being a prisoner?” Boris grunted in derision. “More like the bait that almost led to your capture until we came along.”

“Yeah, well, she started out as bait, but then it turns out she didn’t have a choice and…” Brody trailed off. “You know what, it’s fucking complicated, and I don’t have time to explain it now. Not when they’re getting away with Layla. How much of a head start do they have?”

Travis and Boris shared a look that Brody didn’t like.

Given the number of darts Brody was hit with, how long had he slumbered? “What time is it?”

“Just past dawn.”

The knowledge he’d been out for a few hours hit him like a fist to the gut. “Oh shit. We’ve got to get moving. They’ve got a huge lead on us then.”

“We ain’t going nowhere until Reid and the others get here.”

“I can’t wait that long. Once he gets his hands on her, who knows what he’ll do to her. Or where he’ll take her.”

“Why does it matter?”

Why? Why! Was Boris seriously asking him that? Wasn’t it fucking obvious? “Because I fucking love her, that’s why.”

Well, that certainly shut the cavalry up. Boris gaped at him. Travis ogled him. And Brody, yeah, Brody wished he had some pants because using the L word while naked in front of a bunch of guys was just uncool.

“How the fuck did that happen?” Boris asked.

“Gee, I don’t know. I met her. We clicked. She’s my woman. Does it fucking matter? Give me some pants. I need to go after her.”

Getting to his feet, Brody noted that at least someone had removed the remaining darts from his ass. Travis rummaged through the store shelves and tossed some track pants at him, along with a pink sweatshirt that said,
I support breasts
. The hands cupping the hearts over each pec was a nice touch that earned the younger male a glare.

“It’s for a good cause,” the bear—who would make a nice rug—replied as he tossed some bills on the counter for the owner.

It fit, and Brody wasn’t about to have anyone claim he was too chicken to wear it. But it didn’t mean he didn’t give Travis a growled promise. “I am going to skin you. Alive.”

At that Boris grunted. “Get in line. Jan’s already called dibs on his mangy fur. And her mother claims she’s got a recipe for bear rump roast.”

Travis sputtered. “Hey, it’s just a shirt. No need to get all cannibal.”

“Says the boy with no respect.” Brody rose to his full height, attempting a menacing look while sporting his pink upper body wear. It just didn’t have the right effect. What he wouldn’t give for camos, kick-ass combat boots, and a big fucking knife. Nothing screamed give me respect like the right outfit.

“Kill me and you get to deal with my mother,” the cub threatened.

With a shudder—because only the monumentally stupid messed with Betty-Sue and her infamous spoon—Brody turned away. The grizzly cub would get to live another day.

Or not.

It occurred to Brody that Travis might prove useful as cannon fodder if he could catch the miscreants who took Layla. “I need to find the trail of those who escaped.”

Boris, with his impeccable crew cut, shook a negative. “No trail to follow. While you were getting your beauty rest, we scouted out the place and pieced together what happened. Whoever the pricks were, they arrived by truck, a Suburban to be exact, and they left the same way.”

No scent to follow. Damn. “What road did they take?”

“The one heading northeast into the outer reaches.”

Back to their prison? While Brody didn’t know the exact location, he had a good idea. Give him a map and he could probably pinpoint it to within a few miles.

“Your truck gassed?” Brody inquired.

“Yeah, with extra tanks in the back.”

“What about ammo and weapons?”

At the incredulous look Boris shot him, Brody laughed. “Okay, stupid question. So we’re fully equipped to head out?”

“Yup.”

“I take it this means we’re not waiting for the others?” Travis inquired from a safe distance.

And leave Layla in the clutches of the freak a moment longer? A growl slipped free.

Boris grinned as he cracked his knuckles. “If we catch them first, then that means more fun for us.”

“First though, we need to get this fucking thing off. You got any bolt cutters?” Brody tugged at his collar.

“Nice necklace.”

“It’s a shock collar.”

“Even funnier.” Travis smirked but he did locate a tool to pry the sucker off.

The onerous weight gone, Brody felt a hell of a lot better and anxious to go. “Come on, cub. Get your ass moving.”

“Shotgun,” Travis yelled.

Brody snorted. Like hell was he sitting in the back.

He tripped the younger male on the way out the door and took his spot in the front of the truck. Boris slid behind the wheel.

A dusty and disgruntled Travis clambered in the back. “Uncool,” he muttered. “It’s a good thing Mother taught me to respect my elders.”

“Or else?”

“I’d have grizzlied your ass.”

At that, both Brody and Boris laughed. Travis might think he was tough, but he didn’t have the years of military training they did.

Nor the edge required to deliver the killing blow.

In a sense, given Travis’ positive outlook on life, Brody kind of hoped he never had to learn. Some experiences could never be forgotten and changed a man. Not always for the better.

As Boris drove, a moose on a mission, which involved speed, swerving, and grunting, Brody commandeered a smart phone and pulled up a map of the area. It took him a while, but relying on his recollection of terrain they’d crossed and about how far they’d traveled, he thought he had the area for his incarceration with Layla pinpointed. Problem was, not all the roads in that area were marked, so locating the house was almost impossible. Unless one had access to certain databases via a certain techy back in Kodiak Point.

Brody placed a call to Kyle, only to have a young girl’s voice answer. “Hi.”

“Hi. Um, is Kyle there?”

“Yes.”

He waited. The little girl did too, her whispery breath in the receiver letting him know she still listened.

“Um, can I talk to him?”

“Yeah.”

“Now?”

“Okay. Kyle!” From low and lispy to yodel.

Brody almost jumped at the abruptness of it.

A guy said, “Who is it, sweetie?”

“A man.”

As the phone changed hands, Brody heard Kyle, whom he recalled was living with some broad and her kid, chuckle. “Yo, man. Who is it, and what’s up?”

“I love your secretary.”

“So do I, and her mom’s not too bad,” Kyle added.

“I heard that,” yelled a woman’s voice.

But Kyle didn’t seem worried judging by his laughter. “Brody. My man. Good to hear from you. You kind of disappeared on us, and some folks were actually worried. When none of us got a call for bail, we wondered if you got in a spot of trouble. I was actually just combing through the online newsfeeds and police scanners to see if there was mention of a wolf causing trouble.”

“Actually, I was guesting in a cell, just not one owned by authorities. The dick whose been fucking with us thought I’d make an awesome sperm donator.”

A guffaw from the back of the truck was not unexpected. “And they chose you?”

Even Boris snickered. “Apparently, they never saw your IQ tests.”

Brody flicked a certain finger at his buddy. “Those stupid things don’t take into account hands-on ability and street smarts. Put me and one of the creators in the middle of a jungle and let’s see who walks out alive.”

“Touché, brother. So what did they want your junk for? Create a super army of werewolves?”

“Not sure.” Only a partial lie. Brody never did understand what exactly the dude wanted from him other than to impregnate Layla. That he wanted to see if he could recreate her power seemed obvious, but for what purpose? A child wouldn’t prove of use for many, many years.

“I take it you weren’t calling me to ask about the child support laws for unwilling sperm donors. So what did you need?”

“I need you to find me an address.” Because now that Brody had a general area, and given the condition of the house, chances were the place where he’d been held prisoner sat abandoned for years. Abandoned meant someone wasn’t paying his taxes to the municipality. Which meant the place might have gone into foreclosure, which would make its location public knowledge.

Put that fucking logic on an IQ test!

Barely brighter than a monkey indeed. As Brody explained his logic, he finally got the respect he deserved.

“I love how your mind works,” Travis uttered with awe from the backseat. “That is like some CSI, freaking awesome deduction shit, dude.”

Awesome if his theory panned out.

Problematic when his criteria pulled up more than one possible address.

In the end, there were three. Three possibilities. Three chances to fuck up. Brody need to choose one.

Closing his eyes, he let his gut, the instinct that never steered him wrong, choose for him.

But before they could head out, Kyle called them back. Brody answered. “What’s up? Did you find another address?”

“I was plotting your cell phone signals to keep track of your location when I noticed an extra blip.”

“Blip?”

“I believe you were chipped, dude.”

Chipped? Hot fucking damn. That explained how the psycho’s minions found him and Layla.

“Where is it?” he growled. “I’ll rip the damned thing out myself.

“Good luck with that,” Travis replied.

“What’s supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Travis said as he handed Brody his phone which depicted an enlarged photo of Brody’s ass, and the tattoo, “that someone is going to have to play operation on your butt because I’m pretty sure your bunny is only supposed to have two red nipples, not three.”