Page 13 of Crimson Moon Falling

Conall turned toward the Pack house. “Langston doesn’t do field work unless it affects his pocketbook or position. He disappeared after ApGen, but that slimy asshole re-emerged like a radioactive cockroach. Why doesn’t anything stick to these bastards? They’ve desensitized and demoralized the population enough that nothing surprises anyone anymore.”

“They’re experts at manipulating the system, eliminating dissenters, and promoting their corrupt cohorts.”

“What they did to her, and what she saw in that facility–” Conall growled.

“She’s a potential threat and our weakest link, at least from their point of view. They want to know exactly what we know, and they’re sending a message,” Ash surmised.

“If they guess how powerful she is, she’ll also become an asset they want to control.” Conall’s wolf clawed beneath his skin, rage and dread fueling his desperation. “Get the jet ready and call Freda. If we lose her trail…”

“What’s your plan if they take her?”

Conall’s eyes flashed gold, his wolf rising to the surface. “I’ll hunt Langston and his agents down and fucking gut them.”

A spike of energy tore through the bond, confirming his fears. Riley was already in trouble. Her distress bled through, even with the icy barrier.

“Hang on, a stór.” He tried to send reassurance back through the bond.

She didn’t answer when he tried her phone. He called Beau Harlan next. “Alpha. I met Investigator Riley Blackthorne yesterday, so I’m going out on a limb and assuming this call is about her.”

“I believe the FBCI Area Director, George Langston, and his security detail are moving to take Riley into custody, if they haven’t already. He’s bringing his kill squad and sodium thiopental with him.” Conall’s voice remained steady despite the killing rage building inside.

Beau was silent for a beat. “You’re putting me in a bad position, Segerson. I hate the Feds, but like you, I also work for them.”

Conall stared, unseeing, across the pasture. “Let me be clear. If something happens to her while she’s in your jurisdiction, which I’ll unnecessarily remind you also sits in the middle of my Pack lands, I’ll consider our truce with the Yellowstone Bison Obstinacy void.”

There was a longer pause this time. When Beau spoke again, his voice had dropped several octaves. “You skipped the pleasantries and went straight to threatening a century-old truce.”

“I don’t have time for politics or pleasantries. My mate is in danger, Harlon. We think Langston is connected to the ApGen experiments and the Chimera operation.” Conall didn’t mention General Wilson’s involvement.

“Well, shit,” the bison shifter breathed out.

Conall’s knuckles went white around his phone. “I need your help, Beau.”

“You have a strange way of asking for it.”

“I’m not asking.”

A deep rumbling sigh came through the phone. “You wolf shifters might be aggressive, pushy bastards, but a bison herd is called an Obstinacy for a reason. We’re stubborn and don’t take kindly to threats.”

Conall closed his eyes, forcing his wolf to settle. “She’s my Mate.”

The bison shifter’s voice softened marginally. “I heard what happened to her in Roswell. We have a deep aversion to branding.”

“Then help me protect her. She saw and experienced things in that facility they don’t want exposed.”

“You’re asking me to start a conflict with the Feds.”

“I’m asking you to uphold the principles of our agreement. Mutual protection against government overreach into supernatural affairs.”

“I’ll try to slow them down. And Segerson?"

“Yes?”

“Don’t ever threaten me again. Bison shifters don’t scare easily, and we can do a hell of a lot of damage when provoked.” The line went dead.

An hour later, Conall was airborne with Ash next to him. He barely registered the smooth flight or the luxury cabin, his entire focus on his mate bond.

Fuck, he barely knew what a strong, healthy bond felt like. They’d had it for less than two days before Marlowe surgically implanted that damn device and chip along her cervical spine.