Claiming His Witch (18 page)

“It ain’t like I’ve got them LoJacked. Who you looking for?”

“Rebel, Magnus, Gates…we’ve tried them all. No one’s answering their damn phones.”

“Rebel and Gates are newly mated, they’ve been taking a break. And Magnus is out at the Fields getting his knee worked on. Our last mission for Blaze put him out of commission.”

Crash glared at me for a moment before sighing and running a hand over his face. “Fuck me. I knew I should have sent Goober to the D to deliver the message in person.”

“What message? And hey, do you mind?” I turned a palm up at the kid with the gun. Crash rolled his eyes.

“Put it away, Spank. I’ve got this covered.”

The kid slid the gun under the couch and quickly left the room, leaving me wondering if I should be glad he was so good at listening to Crash’s orders or scared of what he could be doing out in the main room.

“Jesus, way to welcome a guy, Crash.” I dropped onto the couch Spank had vacated. “What the hell is going on around here?”

“What the fuck are you doing here if you don’t know what the problem is?”

I shrugged. “I’m here because of the missing money.”

Crash stared at me for a long moment before howling with laughter. “That’s rich. Leave it to Rebel to be more concerned about his precious Draught money than his Breed brothers.”

I snarled and swung my arm, crashing my fist into the desktop and cracking the wood. Crash stopped laughing and stared at me.

“I don’t know what’s going on or why no one’s called you back, but don’t disrespect our president that way.”

Crash rose to his feet, a mountain of a man gliding up to his full, almost seven foot height. “When he acts like a president, I’ll respect him like one.”

I growled again as I stood, ready to battle the ass with the attitude, but a whimper from the other side of the desk stopped me. I turned, shame building as I realize a young boy was curled into the space between Crash’s desk and the wall, shaking as if terrified.

“Oh, hey. I didn’t mean—”

Crash shook his head and held up his hand. “He’s okay. He’s just not used to seeing the violent side of shifters.” He pulled the boy from his hiding spot and wrapped an arm around him, even though the little one barely came up to his hip. “He’s my son, but he’s been raised in the human world.”

I glanced between them, confusion heavy in my mind. “I wasn’t aware you were mated.”

With a deep breath, Crash raised his chin, almost in challenge. “I’m not, but I claimed his mother as mine nearly ten years ago. We’ve got four kids together. Joshua here is my oldest.” He grinned in that quintessential proud papa way. “He’s the only shifter in the bunch.”

Crash held my gaze as understanding washed over me. He’d never mated, but grown tired of being alone as some shifters did. By claiming a human woman as his, he’d given her the protection of the shifters who respected Crash, but none of the benefits. She’d die long before he did, as would any children they had who didn’t carry the shifter gene. It wasn’t the most common choice, but claiming a human happened enough not to shock me. What did was that his son was a shifter but being raised in the human world.

The fact that Rebel had never mentioned Crash’s family made me wonder if he even knew about them.

I dropped to one knee so as to look the young man in the face. “It’s nice to meet you, Joshua. My name’s Pup, and I’m sorry I scared you.”

The kid sniffed and pressed harder against Crash’s leg. “It’s okay.”

“Joshua here has become obsessed with what his daddy does for a living.” Crash smiled down at his son. “He’s a brave young man; will make a good addition to the Breed when he comes into his own.”

“I bet.” I rose to my full height, thoughts of Zuri and kids and what would happen when the Breed knew I’d mated swirling in my mind. “So Spook’s off the grid, is that right?”

Crash sighed and settled into his chair as Joshua stared at me from his father’s side.
 

“Yeah, and it’s got me worried.” Crash tapped one finger on the desktop. “Spook’s not a thief, no matter what anyone says. The guy’s as solid as they come. But then he stops showing up, and there’s a big chunk of change missing that he’s responsible for.”

“You think he bogarted the money and ran?”

Crash shook his head. “Not in a million years. First, it’s not his way. Guy’s been getting a little squirrely in his old age but no worse than any other non-mated centenarian shifter. And second, it’s not enough money to really get that far, you know? If he was going to go down in those kinds of flames, you’d think he’d steal a full month’s take or something. This was piddly when you think about spending the rest of your life on the run. No, I don’t think he took it.”

“And no one’s seen or heard from him?”

“Nope. Not a peep. I drove out to his house last week to see what I could find, but the place was empty with no sign he’d been there.”

I rubbed my thumb down my cheek, letting my mind wander. If Spook didn’t take the cash, it had to be someone around him. There really was no other excuse for the money and the shifter to go missing at the same time. But I didn’t know enough about Spook to know who might be the perpetrator.

“Mind if I head over to his place? I’d like to take a look around.”

Crash shrugged. “Sure. I’ll even come with you. Gotta make sure you don’t get lost.” He reached for the phone sitting on his desk and pressed a few numbers. “Send Spank back.”

I smirked as we waited for the young shifter. “Spank?”

Crash chuckled. “Those TVs aren’t just for football, and the kid’s young. A few too many extra-long visits to the john, and the name was born.”

I chuckled as the kid in question walked in.

“Yeah, boss?”

Crash rose to his feet once more. “Keep an eye on Joshua for me. Pup and I have a little errand to run.”

“Sure thing.” The kid walked behind the desk and reached out a hand to the younger boy. Crash and I walked out of the office together, heading toward the noise of the main room.

“No cut for Spank?” I asked.

Crash shook his head. “He’s just a hanger-on for now. He’ll earn his Pup status when he grows up a bit; then we’ll really see what he’s made of.”

I snorted. “Let’s hope he earns a better road name than Spank.”

“Truth. No one will ever want to shake his hand.”

Ten minutes later, the two of us dismounted our bikes and looked over the little, yellow house that had been home to Spook until a few weeks ago.

“Looks…cozy.” I shrugged as Crash laughed. “What? It looks like a home.”

“It should. Spook’s lived here for close to twenty years.”

We walked up the pathway to the front porch. I tried looking in the front window, but there was some kind of fabric hanging in the way and blocking my view. When I turned back to the door, Crash was picking a key up from under the front mat.

“Really?” I scoffed.

Crash shrugged. “The guy didn’t worry. There ain’t much that can take out an old shifter like Spook when he’s protecting his den.”

I followed Crash inside when he opened the door. The interior looked just as homey and comfortable as the exterior, though something about the house didn’t feel right. A smell, a stack of newspapers near the couch, an empty beer can on the side table. I walked over to the newspapers, running my finger across the front page of the top one.

“Three days ago.” I glanced over my shoulder at Crash. “You sure he’s not been around?”

“Positive.” Crash’s nostrils flared as he sniffed and looked around the room. “What the fuck is that smell?”

It was my turn to shrug. “No clue. You check out the whole house last time?”

“Nah, just this room and the kitchen. I didn’t want to get too far into his business. Besides, it’s not like the place looked as if it’d been busted into.”
 

“Yeah, well, it’s Breed business now. Let’s check it all.” I led the way through the house, finding nothing of interest in the kitchen, bathroom, or dining room. Crash walked into the bedroom as I peeked in the small bathroom, noting the still-damp towel on the bar and the toothbrush in the holder.

“Pup, I think you’d better come look at this.”

I walked across the hallway and into the bedroom. “There’s definitely been someone—”

The words died on my tongue as I looked past Crash to the far wall of the room. Pictures. From floor to ceiling, every inch was covered in pictures. Color and black and white, close-ups and landscape style shots of Lake Michigan, the dunes, the trees, an old lighthouse…

“That looks like Lake Parity.” Crash pointed to the brick building, tower spearing the sky above. “Why would he be fixated on that old lighthouse?”

My heart nearly stopped as his words registered. I scanned the pictures again, looking for signs that he was wrong, hoping against hope that I wouldn’t find a picture of—

“Scarlett.”

Crash looked at me as if I had three heads. “Huh?”

I pointed to a black and white picture taped to the wall at my hip level. “Her name’s Scarlett.”

“You know her?” He dropped down to get a better look.

I nodded, unable to form words as my eyes scanned the pictures for more signs of people. The wall was covered, mostly in shots of the lakes, trees, and a lighthouse.
 

“They keep going.” Crash fingered a picture bent around the closet trim, disappearing behind the door itself. With my heart in my throat and a cold sweat forming all over my body, I gripped the knob and pulled open the closet door.

“Motherfucker.” My words came out on a whisper, harsh but quiet.

“Gods be gracious.” Crash stood beside me, staring into what could only be described as a shrine.

Most of the pictures covering every square inch of the walls, floor, and ceiling were of a young woman I didn’t recognize, though something about her seemed familiar. The curve of her jaw, the golden skin and dark hair, the dimple that only showed when she truly grinned.
 

But Spook hadn’t stopped at pictures. Scraps of fabric, bowls of what looked like soil, a glove, a candy wrapper, a chewed piece of gum, a few strands of dark hair. They covered a small table in the center of the space, a sign hanging from the front of it. One word painted in black.

MINE
 

“You okay, Pup?”

Crash’s words barely sank through the fear and fury that swamped me as I focused on a particular picture. This one with three young women together. All with golden skin and dark hair. Red lips. Big smiles on their faces.
 

Scarlett, Zuri, and the woman of Spook’s obsession. The woman I had to assume was the third Weaver sister, Amber.

Without warning or explanation, I ran for my bike as I dialed Zuri’s number.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

When her sweet voice came over the line, I felt a moment of relief before rage swelled in my gut.

“You’ve reached Azurine Weaver. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back.”

“Zuri. I need you to stay with Rebel. No matter what happens, stay with Rebel. I’m on my way.”

Crash came running up beside me as I mounted my bobber. “What the fuck, Pup?”

I snarled, fury and fear mixing into a toxic combination beneath my skin. “Spook’s a dead man.”

“What?”

I met his confused gaze as I yanked on my gloves. “The three girls in those pictures are witches, triplet sisters of a coven on Parity Lake. Spook must have become obsessed with the one he made his stalker-shrine for, Amber. He’s crossed into a feral shifter at best and a man-eater at worst. Either way, he’s a danger to himself, the secret, and to those girls.”

“While I get the need to control him if he’s gone man-eater, why should we give a shit about a group of fucking witches?”

I looked him right in the eye, rage burning inside me and making it hard to utter the words I needed him to hear. The explanation he needed to be able understand the level of fucked up this was.
 

“One of the girls in the pictures, one of the witches, is named Azurine. She’s my mate.”

Crash’s jaw dropped as he stared at me. But then he growled.

“What the fuck are you doing here if you’ve got a mate? Mated wolves don’t ride!”

His words stung, hitting home with their truth in more ways than I would’ve expected. Pushing down my guilt, I nodded, my gut locked tight as terror raced through my veins. “Call Beast and Rebel. Keep calling them until you reach one of them. Let them know I’m coming back and that the Weaver girls are in danger. All three of them.”

“You’re a jerk.” Scarlett huffed and rubbed her arm where I’d punched her.

“Well, you’re an idiot for talking that way.” I dropped my phone on the table.
 

“You two crack me up.” Charlotte grinned from where she lay sprawled on the floor, whiskey bottle in hand. “I’m so glad we got to have a girls’ day.”

“Yeah, though we can’t really get into any good details with your guard dog out there.” Scarlett lifted her chin toward the front door. Rebel’s growl could be heard from the porch, making the three of us giggle.

Charlotte waved her hands to get our attention then gave us a huge wink. “Eh, there’s not that many details to begin with. I’m always working, and my brother’s home, and Rebel, well, I mean, he is over four hundred years old.”

“Wait, you suck four-hundred-year-old dick?” Scarlett looked mortified. Poor Charlotte started to laugh, but then stopped, looking surprised.
 

“Well, shit, I guess I do.” Charlotte stood and wobbled toward the door. “I think you should tell me where the hell that thing’s been for the last four hundred years. I don’t know that I want it near me.”

“Keep it up, Cherry.” Rebel yelled through the closed door. “If I remember correctly, you definitely wanted this four-hundred-year-old dick near you last night. All six times.”

Scarlett’s mouth dropped open as she mouthed
Six?
at a beaming, nodding Charlotte.

“Damn,” Scarlett exclaimed. “Where can I find me a wolf?”

“Stay away from mine,” Charlotte and I spoke in unison, laughing as soon as we finished.