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His expression twisted in pain, in grief.
“What happened Valentine’s night?” she asked.
David shook his head. “There was a Coyote Breed. A young one. He’d managed to escape his lab in Yugoslavia and he made it here. But he had Council soldiers on his ass the whole way. He was wounded, feverish. The kid was next to dead when he finally made it to Glen Ferris and managed to contact Walt.” He nodded to Walt. “He was a new genetic design. That was all the information we were given. The Council was desperate to get him back. The Dozen was called in when they received word from their spy that he was here.”
He looked up at Walt and Patrick. “I tried to send them a warning, but it was intercepted.”
Patrick rose from his seat and moved to the window. Bracing his hands on the window, he stared outside as David continued.
“They were ambushed. I didn’t even know the hunt was on that night. They’d gotten word at the last minute and I wasn’t in town. If I had been . . .” He swallowed tightly. “So much would have changed.”
“Your husband raped and killed Myron’s mate.” Patrick’s voice was toneless. “Before the hunt they found my cabin. They killed my mate and cut our child from her body as we were trying to escort the Coyote through the mountains. She was in labor. She and the midwife both were killed.” His shoulders were tense, his voice thick with emotion. When he turned back to her, his eyes were like brandy flames in the depths of his sun-darkened flesh. “Your husband knows where my child was taken. He wasn’t taken to a lab. He wasn’t even reported as being alive. Brandenmore and Engalls didn’t have him. Watts and three others of the Dozen hid him. I want to know where my son is. If he’s alive or dead. Ms. Hawkins, I will know, or Douglas Watts will know pain as he’s never imagined it.”
Fury throbbed in his voice. An icy sharp rage that sent shivers racing down her back.
“Why didn’t you contact Jonas Wyatt?” she asked, her voice thick. “Why didn’t you tell him? He would have helped you.”
Walt shook his head. “This ain’t Wyatt’s fight. It’s ours. The Dozen killed our people. Patrick’s mate and his younger brother. His brother was Danna’s mate. Friends and loved ones, Ms. Hawkins. This ain’t Sanctuary. And by God, we take vengeance for our own.”
Anger lined Walt’s face now, anger and grief. He shook his head and sniffed back his emotion. There were no tears; the burning rage inside him would have dried any moisture, Cassa thought. There was nothing left now but the need for blood.
“What happened to you?” she asked David.
A bitter little laugh escaped his throat. “I made the mistake of asking the wrong person about the child that was taken that night. About six months ago, the Dozen came after me. Ryan Damron had managed to get the names of a few of the members. He was bringing the information and the proof o
f it to me. But he didn’t come alone. Elam March was with him as well as a Coyote soldier. They were going to kill me, Ms. Hawkins. Damron had betrayed me.”
“David was smarter than he used to be though,” Walt grunted. “He came to me. I called Patrick, and he and Keith shadowed that meeting.”
“That’s when I decided I liked the feel of their blood on my hands.” Patrick’s smile was hard, cruel. “I’d been searching for their identities for years. I’ll have them when I find Watts. I’ll find my kid, and I’ll finish killing the rest of them once I do. This isn’t Wyatt’s or St. Laurents’s fight, nor is it yours, Ms. Hawkins.”
“But you drew me into it,” she reminded him angrily. “You sent the emails, the pills, and you drew me here. Don’t deny it.”
“I did exactly that.” Suddenly, he was before her, his hands flat on the table, the fury flickering in his eyes. “To distract your mate. That was your only job. To keep him out of my damned way. But you had to go and decide you were going to get your answers anyway. You couldn’t let well enough alone.”
“Bullshit.” She came to her feet, glaring back at him. “You knew I wouldn’t leave it alone. You knew I’d do everything in my power to get this story.”
His brow lifted. A sardonic curl of his lips attested to the truth of her accusation as he eased back from her. Manipulating bastard.
“I could fail.” He straightened, drawing to his full height as he stared back at her, the chill in his gaze once again. “If I fail and word leaks to the world of the killings that have taken place here, then I want someone with influence to know the truth.” He shook his head wearily. “It’s not my desire to destroy the Breeds in the public eye, Ms. Hawkins.”
“Why did you draw Wyatt in if you didn’t want his help?” She wasn’t finished, and she didn’t care much for his explanation. “Why did you leave it to him to clean up your mess?”
“Because I knew he would.” He shrugged easily, as though it really didn’t matter to him one way or the other how Jonas was forced to clean up after him. “And if anyone knew where Watts was being held, then Wyatt would. I knew he was alive. There have been too many rumors, too much information against the Council that’s come out, that only he would have known. I knew Wyatt had Watts, and I wanted him. There was no way to keep Wyatt out of it.”
“Breeds and their schemes,” she sighed. “You’ve made a mistake, Patrick. Your own arrogance and need for blood is going to destroy you.”
“They already have,” he said simply, solemnly. “Years ago, Ms. Hawkins. They did that years ago.”
Cabal entered the woods surrounding Sheriff Lacey’s home just as she was pulling into her driveway. Myron James pulled in behind her, his expression creased with anger as he got out of his car and slammed the door furiously.
“He said he wasn’t going to do this.” He was in the sheriff’s face within seconds, the freckles standing out on his pale face as he confronted her. “What the fuck is going on?”
“He didn’t do this.” She pushed back against his shoulders, jerking away from him and glaring back at him. “He would have told me before he did anything this fucking insane in my county.”
“I told you he was out of control,” Myron continued to argue. “Who else would have done it, Danna? There’s no one else that would have kidnapped Cassa like that. No one else is that fucking crazy.”
“Crazy” was a good description of any man that dared to touch Cabal’s mate, let alone take her from him.
