Chapter Ten

 

Celeste felt ice-cold terror running through her veins. How did these people even know that Jeffrey existed? And why did they want him?

“There is no boy,” Reynaldo growled.

Jeffrey was lying on the floor at Grant’s feet, covered with Grant’s jacket.

The man kicked the car door. “Don’t lie to me again or I’ll fill you full of silver, you sack of shit. We saw him get in the car. Just hand him over, and your secret stays secret. If you even make a move on us, we’ll give everyone proof that werewolves exist. And everyone will know it’s your pack’s fault. They’ll turn against you. Your company will go bankrupt.”

This man knew way too much about werewolves and about the Bronsons.

A horrifying thought occurred to Celeste. Was this Mandy’s doing? Had she betrayed them all? Who else could have done it?

“We’re burning daylight here. Hand him over or we start shooting,” the man barked at them.

The back door was flung open, and Jeffrey scrambled out. Celeste tried to hold on to him, but he was much too strong for her, wriggling out of her arms. “Don’t shoot them,” he said. “I’ll go with you.”

Celeste stifled a scream.

No, no, no…This could not be happening…

The man scooped him up as Grant snarled a curse and leaped out of the car. There were dozens of men surrounding them now, their guns pointed directly at Grant’s head.

“Smart kid,” the man sneered.

“Jeffrey, no!” Celeste cried. She leaped out of the car after him, tears running down her face. Suddenly half a dozen guns were pointed at her. She felt sick with rage and terror. These monsters. What were they going to do to Jeffrey?

“If you kill her, I won’t let you take me. I’ll make you kill me. I can do that,” Jeffrey said, and suddenly he was a wolf cub. He’d shifted so fast that Celeste hadn’t even seen it happen.

He sank his teeth into the arm of the man who was holding him, and shook his head viciously, ripping flesh. The man screamed in pain and shook his arm wildly, trying to dislodge him.

“Get him off me! Shoot him, shoot him!” the man screamed.

“He’ll kill us if we shoot him! He needs him alive!” one of the other men yelled.

He who? Who needed Jeffrey? And why?

“Take care of him for me,” Grant growled to Celeste, and the bones in his face shifted as his ears turned pointy.

Horror washed over Celeste. He was going to shift and attack these men and get himself killed, to give her and Jeffrey a chance to escape. She was overcome by mindless fear that fused her spine and turned her limbs to water. The shouts of the men echoed in her ears, jumbled and meaningless noise. She couldn’t watch Grant die. She couldn’t.

A shot cracked through the air, and the man holding Jeffrey collapsed in a heap. Jeffrey leaped through the air, landing in Celeste’s arms, and she ducked her head and scrambled back into the car. She could hear more gunshots, and screaming, and the snarl of wolves as she curled up on top of Jeffrey.

“We’ll be fine, we’ll be fine,” she said loudly, to drown out the horrible noises. Jeffrey was shaking in her arms.

The car door banged open and Celeste shrieked, tightening her grip on Jeffrey.

“It’s me!” Mandy yelled. “All the bad guys are dead. Grant’s fine, nobody on our side died. Is Jeffrey okay? Did they hurt him?”

Celeste sat up and looked up at her. Mandy looked like someone had dumped a bucket of red paint over her.

She cleared her throat, forced herself to speak. “Carrie? How was the prom?”

“Ha.” Mandy grinned fiercely. “Inappropriate humor at the worst possible time. I knew I liked you.”

Grant, Pete and Reynaldo came running up, breathless and covered with blood. They were accompanied by several men Celeste didn’t recognize.

“He’s fine,” Celeste said shakily. “I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Jeffrey said in a quiet voice.

“Hey, Mandy. That’s a good look on you,” one of the men with Grant said. “Is that a finger in your hair?”

“Hey, Truman,” Mandy said to the man, flicking the human finger away. Celeste felt her stomach lurch. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this. Also, we should get out of here. These guys might have called in reinforcements.” She glanced at the bodies strewn on the forest floor. There were about twenty of them. A small army, sent to kidnap one small boy.

“We should grab one of the bodies and put it in the trunk,” she added. “So we can get an ID on it and figure out who’s behind this.”

“I memorized the license plates. We can run them.” Truman said. “I don’t think we should take the body with us, in case we get pulled over. These guys knew exactly who you were and were you’d be. Maybe they’re working with local authorities. It’s too risky.”

“I want to go home,” Jeffrey wailed loudly. “I want to leave.”

“The tires are shot out; this car isn’t going anywhere. Let’s go in my van,” Truman said. “We’ve got a tow-hitch in the minivan; Alexander and Paul can hook up your SUV and get it out of here so that we’re not connected to the shooting.” Grant’s SUV was still surrounded by the vehicles that had been driven by Jeffrey’s would-be kidnappers.

There were two minivans parked a short way down the road. Truman slid into the driver’s seat of one of them. Jeffrey, Mandy and Celeste sat behind him. Pete and Reynaldo climbed in and sat in the row of seats behind them. They drove off as Alexander and Paul hurried to the second van.

Jeffrey wrapped himself around Celeste like an octopus as they headed down the road.

“All right. Talk,” Grant growled to Truman.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Truman replied.

“Thank you for saving us,” Celeste called out.

“Grant found a mate who’s actually got some manners? I guess opposites do attract,” Truman scoffed as they hurried down the road.

“Yeah, she’s the nice one, and I’m the wolf who’s going to start doing open-heart surgery with my fangs if you don’t explain what’s going on here. Someone just sent a bunch of humans to take my boy, someone who knows about werewolves, and I’m not in the mood,” Grant growled. “How did you know where we were?”

“Cliff sent us here to help watch over you,” Truman said, focusing on the road ahead, his expression grim. “He was worried about you not having any pack protection. Having no pack makes you a lone wolf. We all know what happens to lone wolves.”

“What happens to lone wolves?” Celeste asked.

Grant answered. “Lone wolves are a risk to the safety of all werewolves. Many of them are too antisocial to fit into a pack, and most of them are outright feral. They also run an increased risk of getting caught by humans if they don’t have access to pack lands on the full moon. They can legally be killed by any member of a legitimate pack, without repercussions.” He sounded as if he were reciting out of a brochure.

“Most of them?” Mandy mocked him. “Was that based on a scientific survey?”

“Excuse me, Miss Bleeding Heart,” Grant snapped. “It’s actually a little hard to do an accurate study on lone wolves, with most of the packs around the country keeping to themselves.”

“Well, you’re known as the pack’s rules expert,” Mandy said. “Get back to the lodge, work with your brother, and start helping our packs draft up some agreements so we can work together instead of scrapping like a bunch of high school girls”

“We’ll see,” Grant muttered. They took a sharp turn and his arm shot out protectively, in front of Celeste and Jeffrey.

He glanced at Truman. “Where are the rest of your men now? Aside from Alexander and Paul?”

Truman shook his head. “I’m here alone. What do you mean?”

Grant frowned. “Pete? Reynaldo? Do you have any idea who killed off most of the men in the woods? The majority of them were shot, not attacked by wolves. Was that your men doing the shooting?”

“Nope.” Reynaldo shook his head. “I saw some men in camo taking out our attackers. No idea who they were, but they were werewolves, I smelled that much.”

Grant cursed under his breath. First there were mystery attackers, then there were mystery heroes…Too many mysteries swirling around his son. “And how did you get here?” he asked Mandy.

“You hired me to look out for you. I was looking out for you. I just didn’t feel like getting into a conversation with you today, because you were being an asshole.”

Celeste cleared her throat. “Language.”

Mandy glanced at Jeffrey. “I said gas-roll.”

Jeffrey snorted. “No you didn’t.”

Cliff and Taylor were waiting for them on the front steps of the orange mansion when they got there.

Taylor stared at Mandy as they all walked up the steps.

“Sweet mother of God,” she said, looking at Mandy’s blood-splattered visage.

“Yeah, yeah, things got a little messy,” Mandy said. “I’m going to go take a shower, if nobody minds.” She walked past them through the open front door.

“Let me know if you need help scrubbing your back,” Truman called after her.

“Let me know if you come up with a better pickup line!” Mandy yelled back.

They filed into the house, with Jeffrey still clinging to Celeste.

Taylor shook her head. “I swear. I love Mandy to pieces, but what is up with that girl? All this time she’s acted like a ditz who lives to shop and party, but she’s also the Terminator with fangs.”

“I know.” Grant nodded somberly. “Something doesn’t add up. I should have seen it a long time ago.”

Celeste glanced after Mandy. It was true. Something didn’t add up. But what? Mandy had just risked her life to save Jeffrey. But she was hiding something.

“Well, here are a few things that are adding up now,” Cliff said to Grant. He glanced at Celeste, and raised an eyebrow at Jeffrey.

“Right,” Celeste said. “Jeffrey, let’s go get you into a shower – there’s blood all over your face from you biting that guy.”

Cliff waited until they’d left before he started talking. “I did some research on what happened around the time you were dating Jennifer. Apparently, our father kidnapped you right before Jennifer told you she was pregnant. While he was holding you prisoner, Jennifer was sending messages to your phone telling you she was pregnant. But Dad had your phone, so he got her messages. Our dear father contacted her himself, sent her ten grand, and told her to get rid of the baby and send him proof, or he’d kill her.”

He looked Grant in the eye. “I never knew. I had nothing to do with this.”

Grant hesitated, his expression stormy, looking lost in thought. Then finally he said. “Yeah. Sounds like Dad. And I believe you. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Cliff said indignantly.

“I don’t know, man, you’re always manipulating things behind the scenes. Like with Austin. Something doesn’t sit right about how you got Dad to send him away. Dad had been beating him for years. Why the sudden big rush?”

“We’re talking about you now, not Austin.” Cliff had neatly dodged the issue, Grant noticed.

“We also found out why you didn’t get any of the messages from Celeste, telling you about your son. You know Yasmine? The girl who’s been molesting you with her eyes every time you walk by?”

Grant’s lip curled in disgust. “Yeah, I had to have Mandy chase her off a few times. Forcefully.”

“She threw away every message that Celeste left you. Also a bunch of messages from other girls who were leaving you their phone numbers, measurements, room numbers and lists of their favorite sexual positions.”

Taylor looked appalled. “Jeez. I kind of understand now why you had all those fake girlfriends.”

“Thank you,” Grant said. “See, I’m not a total freak.”

“I didn’t say that,” Taylor said. She looked at her mate. “Did I say that?”

Cliff shook his head, looking fondly at her. “No, you did not. Nor should you.”

“Do women leave you their phone numbers?” Taylor narrowed her eyes at her mate.

Cliff scoffed. “Since I’ve been with you? They know better. But even before I met you, they didn’t flock to me like they do my dear brother. I guess I don’t have that come-hither look like he does.”

Grant answered him with a growl.

“I’ll assume that translates to, I’m sorry I was an asshole before, and thanks for looking out for me,” Cliff said. “You should come back to the lodge with us. Our helicopter’s waiting on the pad out back. Just fly back here when you have court appearances. It’s not safe here anymore, for you or for your son. You’re still part of our pack.”

Grant took a deep breath. He still didn’t completely trust his brother. But what choice did he have?