Page 62 of Crimson Moon Falling

Malachi’s gruff voice came through the speaker. “Mornin’, Castillo.”

“Good morning, Alpha Hagan. I wish we were calling with better news. We need you.”

Malachi sighed. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

When he arrived, Conall laid out what Riley had found in the bunker in Yellowstone, Malcolm’s death, and the Apollo Genetics equipment that Apex Mentis soldiers had been guarding. He also told Malachi about the map with sites across the western states, including Texas.

Malachi made a sound low in his throat. “Son of a bitch.” His voice had lost its easy warmth. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry about Malcolm. I always liked that fellow.” Sawyer nodded his thanks, his eyes bleak.

“What do you know about General Michael Wilson and his relationship with Senate Majority Leader Derek White?” Conall asked. “He’s also the senior senator from your State.”

Malachi nodded toward the whiskey, and Conall poured him two fingers. “They’re thick as thieves. Grew up in San Antonio together and went to the same prep school. Both are from military families. White’s daddy was in the Air Force, and Wilson’s was in the Army. They roomed together at UT Austin.” The drawl was slower now, more deliberate. “White went into politics. Wilson stayed in the military and climbed the ranks. Both of ’em are Normals. It’s clear as day what they think of supernaturals.”

Conall’s jaw tightened. His wolf pressed against his skin, sensing the spike of rage before he could fully process it.

Malachi went on. “Three years ago, at a closed-door fundraiser, White called shifters ‘dangerous animals’ that needed to be trained or ‘put down.’ Wilson has said he believes Cogs are an ‘evolutionary mistake’ and inferior to Normals. Rumors say he bought a trafficked Inamorata woman from Eastern Europe when he lived in Germany. She disappeared before he came back to Washington.”

Sawyer’s fingers had stopped drumming. Conall stared at the older Alpha. “You’re shitting us.”

“We might have to go hunting before this is all over,” Ash murmured.

Malachi sighed. “I’d go on that hunting trip, and I wish I weren’t shitting you. They’re both at the top of the food chain when it comes to the registration push. White chairs the committee drafting the legislation. Wilson runs Apex Mentis, which would be responsible for implementing the testing protocols. It’s a handy friendship.”

Conall paced to the window. The city sprawled below him, all those people who had no idea, or just didn’t give a fuck about what was happening in their government.

“There’s more, and this directly affects us. Wilson was spotted twice in the past month with a few Alphas. They seemed chummy,” Malachi went on.

Conall turned from the window. “Who?”

“Christopherson and Thompson, that I know of.” Malachi set his glass down and propped his cowboy boots on the coffee table.

Sawyer’s expression was flat, but his eyes burned gold. “Christopherson sent two female shifters to this hotel suite the other night.”

Conall folded his arms. “They offered ‘companionship’ and anything else we wanted. One of them is a trained Beta with a poly sci degree, and he offered her up like a fucking party favor.”

Malachi was silent for a beat. “My Pack borders three military bases, and the Feds made it clear they’ll station additional troops there if I don’t play nice with the registration proposal. I told ’em to go fuck themselves.”

Sawyer nodded. “So did I. They’re building more laboratories and still kidnapping and experimenting on our shifters. Some of our own Alphas are peddling the rest of us to get ahead.”

“Don’t worry about me, son. You know how I’ll vote, even if it gets ugly.”

“It’s already ugly,” Sawyer returned quietly. “Malcolm’s wrapped in a sleeping bag in a hangar in Wyoming.”

Malachi threw his whiskey back and stared at his glass. “Jesus, when we’re all drinking whiskey instead of orange juice for breakfast, you know it’s bad.” He stood and stared at Conall. “I helped clear out the facility in Austin, and I saw firsthand what those fuckers did. I’m with you.”

When he left, Sawyer pushed back from the table and stood. “Malachi’s in. That gives us the South, the Southwest, and the Northwest. Three of the five major territories. I bet Alaska will go our way too.”

“It’s not enough. We need the Midwest and Northeast to flip so we have a unanimous front, or we dissolve the Council and try and drown the registration proposal in legal paperwork.”

Sawyer nodded. “I need to call and tell Madison about Malcolm before she hears it from someone else. And make funeral arrangements. My wolf wants to rip a few Apex soldiers apart right now.”

Conall nodded in agreement. His wolf paced, restless and angry, wanting movement, wanting blood, and wanting Riley. The bond hummed distantly, carrying nothing but that faint, steady pulse that told him she was alive and unharmed.

Somewhere in this godforsaken city, Christopherson was likely shopping for a European chateau with his blood money, while General Wilson slept soundly in whatever exclusive penthouse the taxpayers had funded.

A knock sounded at his door. He walked over and opened it, then wished like hell he hadn’t.

Chapter 19