Page 27 of Relentless Touch

“I’m heading toward you. The footage show their direction?”

“Headed west from the alley but they could have doubled back to throw me off. They kept their headlights off.” He didn’t want to imagine the worst, but the image of Kevin’s terrified face was stuck in Rio’s head.

“We’ll find them,” Zeppelin said. “We’re ten minutes away.”

The call ended. Rio pocketed his phone and braced both hands on the desktop, knuckles whitening against the wood. His worst fear had just come to life. He hadn’t kept Kevin safe as promised, now his mate was out there somewhere, in the hands of a narcissistic psychopath.

Rio couldn’t hold still. He paced the length of the office, every instinct in him screaming to get his mate back as quickly as possible. His snow leopard demanded violence. There was no other word for it. He wanted to carve out Ameer’s black heart.

He told himself it wasn’t just about Kevin.

But that was a lie.

He checked the footage again and memorized every detail—the scuff mark on the rear bumper, the dent over the left wheel well, the way the taillights blinked as it rounded the corner. If he got close, he could track it by scent, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

Rio checked all the exterior cameras again. At the edge of the screen, movement flashed low to the ground just before the van pulled away. If he squinted, he could make out a quick hint of color. Kenai’s sweatshirt, the one with the rooster patch.

Cold clarity swept through him. No time for guilt, no time to stew. He locked the office, jogged down the stairs past the prep line, and walked out the front door. The street was empty, not a single car in sight.

Five minutes passed then headlights whipped around the corner. Three motorcycles roaring toward him. Zeppelin led, Vaughn and Quinn flanking him. An enormous truck, probably Wade’s, trailed close behind. They pulled to the curb, boots crunching on the blacktop as the men approached.

“Where?” Zeppelin asked.

“Out back. Kenai and Kevin walked out together. Ameer was waiting. The security camera caught the whole thing.” Rio’s words sounded flat, even to his own ears.

“Show us.” Zeppelin held out a hand. Rio passed over the phone and thumbed open the footage.

The other men moved closer, watching the video. Quinn’s mouth tightened as he watched Kenai jerked off his feet.

Vaughn’s mouth pressed to a tight line. “That van was on the east side earlier tonight, parked outside the hardware store. I smelled wolf all over it.”

Rio gave them a clear rundown, pointing out the alley cameras, and the direction the van had gone. Zeppelin motioned two of his men to split, check the side streets.

Quinn headed toward the curb, already calling someone on his phone, probably Sheriff Owen.

Zeppelin bent closer, his voice pitched low. “We’ll get them.”

Rio nodded, just as determined to bring his mate home.

Zeppelin vanished into the shadows. Within seconds, the street was empty again, except for the faint hoot of an owl in the distance.

Rio walked toward the south side of the lot, cutting between two dumpsters and straight into the alley where the van had been. The scent of wolf still clung to the air.

He moved slowly, making himself read every detail of the ground, hoping to find something that would lead him to Kevin.

He moved toward where the van had stopped in the alley. Tire marks scored the dirt, spinning out. Then nothing.

Chapter Eight

Rio didn’t lose the trail. Not for a second.

Where the tire marks ended, his mind switched to details—the way the dirt had sheared away under the van’s weight, the pattern of gravel kicked aside. Wolf scent clung to the ground, hot and heavy, layered over everything. A half-crushed weed, leaking sap. The faintest trace of impala, nearly lost under the wolf stink. Cold night air helped. It kept every molecule of scent right where it had landed, giving him a fighting chance.

Three others joined him, boots crunching in the dirt. Zeppelin watched Rio’s reading of the ground, eyes narrowed, waiting for the call.

“This way,” Rio called out.

He didn’t look back to see if the others followed. Scent and instinct drew him forward, weaving from wheel tracks to footprints. A different wolf had gotten out at one point, paused in the weeds, then circled around to the passenger side. It made Rio imagine Kenai or Kevin putting up a fight. Good.