“Nick, if you don’t kill him,” rumbled Trey, “I will.”
“That won’t be necessary. This one’s mine.” Then Nick sliced open the human’s throat with his claw. The bastard deserved much worse than a quick, merciful death, but Nick had already traumatized his sister by unleashing his temper in vengeance. He wouldn’t do that to Shaya too. She had a huge heart, and he wanted only to protect it. Worried that even this swift execution had been too much for her, Nick looked at her. There was no revulsion on her face, only concern. For him, he realized. She was concerned that he wasn’t calming.
Knowing and hating that Nick expected her to judge him, Shaya went to her mate and curled her arms around his waist. “He deserved worse.”
Accepting the paper towel Derren handed him, Nick wiped the blood from his claw and then retracted it. Wrapping an arm around Shaya, Nick breathed her in, using her to center him. “I think the bastard was insane.”
“But not a liar,” said Trey. “When he said the preserve was being run by a shifter, he was telling the truth. And he wasn’t kidding when he said you knew him.”
Nick nodded, aware that Trey was right. “That doesn’t exactly narrow it down. I know a lot of people.”
Shaya looked up at Nick. “But if the shifter’s closely allied with Logan, it makes sense that he’s local. At the very least, I’d say we can narrow it down to male shifters in Arizona.”
“Then we need to get a list of the male shifters residing in Arizona,” said Derren.
Nick turned to Derren. “Call Donovan, he’ll be able to get that info for us.”
“Let me guess,” drawled Shaya. “One of your contacts—not your friends.” Derren chuckled while Nick frowned down at her.
“The question bugging me is,” began Taryn, “why would a shifter hate his own kind?”
Puffing out a breath, Derren shook his head. “I’m pretty sure said shifter wouldn’t be dumb enough to let other shifters know about it.”
“If we’re going with the theory that he’s someone local,” said Taryn, “you do realize that places Jesse, Bracken, and Zander under suspicion, don’t you? I mean, think about it: They’ve been supposedly standing guard, but they could just be here to keep watch over us. It also means Hadley’s a suspect. After all, most of the shifters going missing are from his pack, and he’s got a reputation for being a ruthless bastard. Plus, he’s got people supposedly guarding you too, people who are just as capable of reporting back to him.”
Nick nodded, rubbing a hand up and down Shaya’s arm. “When I get the list of names, we can go through them. Until then, we’ll be extra careful about what we allow the rebels and Hadley’s guards to see.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Watching from his spot on the patio step as the wolf with the salt-and-pepper fur—Dominic—earned himself a swipe from a dark wolf with creamy markings—Ryan—Nick could only laugh. Despite Dominic’s wolf’s efforts to tempt the other wolf to play, he wasn’t successful. Ryan’s wolf was much too serious for that, just like his large gray Alpha who was currently watching two jet-black wolves—Derren and Tao—wrestle playfully. Similarly, the red she-wolf and the dark-gray she-wolf—Shaya and Roni—were leaping at one another playfully.
Many of the wolves had decided to go on a short pack run on the land behind Shaya’s home, sticking close to the house, but Nick was much too wary to shift while it was quite possible that one, if not all, of the rebels were in fact a threat. Over the past three weeks, he had watched them closely without giving any indication that he suspected them of anything. He’d come to learn that Jesse was surly and militant yet admirably composed. Bracken was flirty and a regular joker, but—unlike a certain blond pervert—he understood boundaries. Not only was Zander one of the shrewdest sons of bitches Nick had ever met, he was incredibly strong and fast. Not one of them had given him any reason to believe that they might be allied with Logan, but Nick wouldn’t risk Shaya’s safety.
Also, despite that the extremists no longer hovered outside Shaya’s home—wisely keeping a low profile—that didn’t mean they weren’t out there somewhere. When the video of the extremists’ attempt to attack Nick and Shaya went on YouTube three weeks ago, it hadn’t been long before the footage was featured on the news. Seeing the extremists demonstrate the type of violence, complete with flying bullets, that they repeatedly accused shifters of perpetrating had lost them a lot of support and credibility. Nick knew that Logan would hate that, would blame Nick for it, and he fully expected the ass**le to retaliate by going for his only weak spot: Shaya. As such, Nick intended to stay on high alert.
Despite receiving a list of all the male shifters residing in Arizona, Nick was no closer to working out who was behind the creation of the game preserve. The only ones he knew personally were Jesse, Bracken, Zander, Hadley, and a guy called Flint who was born in the same pack as Nick. But Flint was a decent guy, mated and with two pups—it made no sense for him to endanger his own family.
Taryn had said she wouldn’t be surprised to find that her father was responsible, that she believed he was capable of just about anything. However, that didn’t ring true for Nick. Sure Lance was a bastard—so much of a bastard that he had been responsible for Shaya and her parents spending the first four years of her life packless—but he was known for his disdain for humans. He believed shifters to be the superior race.
Pulled out of his thoughts by a familiar yapping sound, Nick looked to see that his mate was snapping her teeth in warning at a russet she-wolf. Amber. It was a clear “fuck off.” Shaya might be reasonably patient with Amber, but her wolf sure wasn’t. Normally, a submissive wolf wouldn’t even entertain the idea of displaying such antisocial behavior at a dominant, but that wouldn’t mean shit to her wolf while she viewed the other female as a rival—her possessiveness and jealousy would drive her to make her point.
The russet she-wolf stood tall, growling low at the red she-wolf in an attempt to intimidate her. And what did his mate do? Lifted her head haughtily and turned her back on the dominant female, swishing her tail in her rival’s face for good measure—dismissing her with utmost contempt. He could only chuckle. But then the russet she-wolf growled again and moved toward his mate. Before he had the chance to react, his sister was there, blocking her path. She curled back her upper lip, displaying teeth and gums, at the threat to his mate. Roni was much more dominant than Amber, and they both knew it. Wisely, the russet she-wolf loped away.