Frostbitten (28 page)

“Or they might decide to cut their losses with their hostage.”

“Exactly.”

“So you think he’s still alive? Joey’s boy?”

“Joey hasn’t heard from him in two days. I can only hope they want the ransom too badly to risk killing him.”

“I’m still finding it hard to believe Joey has a teenage son. He’s old enough—it’s just hard to picture Joey as a middle-aged guy. I picture the kid who left our place twenty-five years ago. It sounds like he’s changed, though—and not just his age.”

“Clay says so.”

A moment of silence.

“Speaking of young werewolves,” I said. “How’s Reese settling in?”

“Good so far. You were right about giving him chores. I didn’t want to—with his hand and all—but Antonio figured you had a point, and gave him some work to do on the grounds, early spring cleanup. That really helped. Reese has stopped eyeing the door, ready to make a break for it.”

“Paying his dues. He’ll be happier with that. So how is it going otherwise? You seemed nervous about having him there.”

“We’re being careful. We’re not about to give a stranger full run of the house, not when he could obviously use a few bucks. I’ve been working from home, so someone’s always with him, but he hasn’t given us any reason to worry. I even thought I’d take him out tonight. Got a party. He might like that. Get his mind off things.”

“Next thing you know, you’ll be lining up double dates.”

“I’ve already got one for Saturday. Oh, did you mean give him one of my dates? I don’t like the kid
that
much. But I’m hoping the party will cheer him up.”

“Is he depressed about his hand?”

“He’s not thrilled about it, but there’s more. Have you got a dossier on him?”

“A very thin one. He only hit our radar after the problems with Liam and Ramon. All I know is that he’s from Australia. Or New Zealand. I never did quite pin it down. Why?”

“I’m trying to figure the kid out. He’s been asking me and Antonio about the rules for mutts—where they can live, whether they can get a job, how long they can stay in one city. If we mention the possibility of him going home, he shuts down.”

“Something happened. I know that, but I have no idea what. It could be that he killed someone or came close. It seems more personal, though.”

“No, I agree. He does mention his family, parents.”

“His father, you mean?”

“No, I’m pretty sure both parents are in the picture.”

Reese wasn’t a bitten werewolf, so to hear that he may have grown up with both parents was a surprise. That’s rare enough that I’d only heard of one case in the United States—a mutt with a wife and kids—but he stayed so far under our radar that I’d never been able to confirm the story.

“You think it has something to do with his family, then?” I asked.

“I have a hunch it does. I’ll keep fishing.”

“Be careful. He’s skittish enough. Push and—”

“He’ll bolt. I know. I’ll take it slow, but I think it’s important. The kid wants to open up. I’ll work on it, at least until you need me there.”

* * * *

After Joey woke up, we spent the afternoon with maps spread over our hotel bed, marking the locations of Dennis’s cabin and the kill sites, trying to narrow down where we might find the Teslers.

That was our best hope: corner them in their lair. We could let them come to us, and I’m sure they would, but for now they seemed to have gone to ground, maybe waiting to see whether Joey would get rid of us. If he didn’t, they’d hurt Noah, to prove they would. We had to find them first.

* * * *

Joey seemed ambivalent about joining us, but when we gave him the option of staying behind, he said he needed to come, though he might not be much help in a fight.

“An extra pair of eyes and ears,” Clay said. “Still useful.”

Joey picked up dinner. I’d suggested we go out, having been cooped up inside all day. But Joey knew Clay would be happier eating in his room. He’d brought back Malaysian. It was one ethnic food I wasn’t familiar with, and it wasn’t quite to my taste. I like spicy, but this was too spicy to enjoy. For Clay, food is fuel, and he made sure his tank was full for the night ahead.

“So Karl Marsten is a Pack member now?” Joey said. “How hard up are you guys for new blood?”

Clay rolled his eyes, and stuffed a curry-sauce-drenched boiled egg into his mouth.

“Not that I know the guy,” Joey said. “But even when we left the Pack, he had a reputation, and he wasn’t more than a couple of years older than me. A thief, wasn’t he? And a ruthless SOB, if I remember right. Killed mutts who came on his territory, ignoring the fact that non-Pack werewolves can’t
hold
territory.”

“Which, ultimately, became an issue,” I said. “He wanted territory and had to join the Pack to get it.”

“And you let him in?”

I shrugged. “Ruthless is good if it’s on your side. He’s not the most committed Pack member, but he’ll be here if Jeremy calls. And if he doesn’t jump fast enough, his girlfriend will give him a shove. She thinks the Pack is good for him, and he gives us a hundred percent to please her.”

“His girlfriend knows he’s a werewolf?”

“She’s a half-demon.”

“Half… Shit.” He shook his head. “Dad said the Pack had gotten involved with other supernaturals but…” Another shake of his head. “Dad wanted to know all about it. Fascinated. I’d rather just leave my world at werewolves. That was another issue we didn’t agree on.” He went quiet for a minute, then shook it off. “So Karl Marsten, huh? Didn’t Malcolm kill his father?”

I glanced at Clay.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” he said. “But I never heard that.”

“I did, back when we were with the Pack. You and Nick had gone someplace, and I had to hang out with the Santos boys. Malcolm was there with their dad and uncle, and they were talking about it, how Malcolm had killed Josef Marsten. Raymond was razzing Malcolm because the boy got away on him.”

“Karl?”

“I presume so.”

I’d never heard that, certainly not from Karl. It might explain some of his reluctance to commit himself to the Pack, taking orders from a man whose father had killed his own. I’d have to talk to him about it.

“So you’ve got two kids, right?” Joey said. “Twins?”

I nodded. “A boy and a girl. Three and a half.”

“Planning to have more?”

“Right now, two is enough.”

Clay nodded as he tore a bite off a giant prawn. “Got too much else going on. Two is good. We can give them all the at-att-enshun…” Clay stumbled over the word, slurring it.

I looked over sharply. He blinked hard, as if struggling to keep his eyes open.

“I guess I’m not the only one who should have had a nap this afternoon,” Joey said.

Clay kept blinking, as if he hadn’t heard Joey. He frowned, annoyed, and rubbed his hand over his face.

I touched his arm. “Are you okay?”

“He looks ready to crash,” Joey said with a laugh. “Too little sleep and too much food. Guess I should have grabbed espresso instead of Cokes. Why don’t you go lie—?”

“You, you bas—” The word fell away in a slurred jumble. Clay gripped the table, pushing himself up.

“Clay?” I said. “What—?”

He fell forward. I lunged for him, but he caught himself at the last second, holding the table, swaying, still trying to focus. Joey had stumbled back, out of his way.

“You son…” Clay slurred the rest. His head wobbled, eyes trying to find Joey. “If you hurt her, I swear, I’ll hunt you down and—”

He collapsed into my arms. I lowered him to the floor, frantically checking his pulse, finding it strong, then spinning on Joey.

“What did you—?”

Joey wasn’t in his chair. As I turned, I felt a prick on the back of my arm.

I wheeled, fists flying up, hitting Joey’s outstretched hand. A syringe fell to the floor. I stared at it, my brain swimming, knees buckling.

“I’m sorry,” Joey said.

I crashed to the floor.

I woke to the slap of ice-cold air on my face. I tried to nestle under the covers, but couldn’t find them. Clay moved behind me. I backed toward him, to snuggle up, keep warm, expecting his arm to go around me, spoon me against him, warm breath on my neck, familiar scent washing over me. But he moved away and shook my shoulder.

“Elena, wake up,” his voice was distant, distorted.

He kept shaking me.

I pushed his hand off my shoulder. “Tired. ‘S cold,” I mumbled. “Window’s open. Close…”

I stopped. I wasn’t in bed. I wasn’t even lying down. I opened my eyes, the lids gummy. A blast of bitter wind made me gasp, frigid air filling my lungs, knocking sleep from me.

I was looking at a car window, party rolled down. Forest beyond. Deep, dark forest, the trees so close I could reach out and…

My hands were bound behind my back.

I twisted, looking for Clay. Joey sat in the driver’s seat. I was in the passenger side. The backseat was empty.

“Where is he?” I snarled, struggling to get free, realizing I was bound hand and foot. “Where is he?”

“Back at the hotel. They didn’t want him.”

It took a moment for me to understand, but when I did, I thrashed wildly.

Joey shrank back against the door and waited until I’d figured out I wasn’t getting free, and when I did, I said, slowly turning toward him, “You’re exchanging me for Noah.”

“I have to. That’s what they demanded yesterday. I had until tonight to bring you or they’d kill him. That’s why I tried to get you to leave. If you’d taken off, they couldn’t expect me to do it.” A whine crept into his voice, as if this was all my fault. “I tried to warn you off.”

“No, you didn’t. You made a halfhearted suggestion that we leave town, but you didn’t really want us to go. You just wanted to be able to tell yourself you tried and—”

I stopped and scanned the forest. At any moment, Tesler was going to step from the darkness, and I was wasting any chance I had of escape by bickering.

“Did you hear the last thing Clay said to you?” I asked.

Joey didn’t answer.

“Do you think that was an idle threat? Knowing Clay, do you really think it was an idle threat?”

No answer, but I swore he went a few shades paler, gaze darting away, lips tightening.

“You remember what Clay did to that mutt thirty years ago? You were there.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Not at the scene, but around at the time. His
friend
at the time.” When I emphasized the word
friend
, his lips tightened more. “You know what he did and why he did it. But a whole generation of mutts has grown up since then, a generation that considers that ancient history, and isn’t afraid anymore. You know Clay won’t accept that. He can’t. If they’ve forgotten, then he needs to remind them. He needs to prove he still deserves his reputation. What better way than to repeat it, only not using a mutt this time… but an old friend who betrayed him.”

Joey went white. Then green. Then red, his jaw setting as he swiveled to face me. “You don’t need to threaten me, Elena.”

“No?”

His eyes met mine, hard now. “No. Why do you think we’re just sitting here?”

“Because you’re waiting for Travis Tesler to—”

“The meeting place is half a mile away, the meeting time a half-hour from now. I stopped here because I’ve changed my mind. I can’t go through with it.”

My gaze went as hard as his. “Bullshit.”

“Bullshit? Do you see Tesler? Why would—?”

“You stopped a half mile from the meeting place. Then you woke me up. If you’d changed your mind, you’d have put the car in reverse and gotten the hell out of here, leaving me asleep as long as possible. Instead…”

I trailed off as I understood.

“I want my son back,” Joey said. “I need him back. You’re a mother. You should understand.”

If my hands were free, I would have scratched his eyes out for that. His
son
? A kid he’d rejected by dumping him on
his
father? A kid who obviously needed something Joey refused to provide because it clashed with his own worldview?

He expected me to understand the depth of his feelings because I had children? He had no idea what it meant to be a parent. No fucking idea.

“You want me to barter myself voluntarily for your son,” I said when I found my voice.

“You’re strong. A fighter. Clay’s
chosen
mate.” He said this as if it was an honor I’d won in the gladiatorial ring. “I saw you and him this morning, play fighting. He wasn’t
letting
you win. You’re a better fighter than I’ve ever been or could ever hope to be.”

“So you’re saying I should walk into captivity and fight my way out.”

“You’re smart.” Desperation edged his voice now. “Clay listens to you and he never used to listen to anyone but Jeremy. My dad said Jeremy was always talking about you, that he thinks you’ll be Jeremy’s choice for successor. A female werewolf as Alpha? For Jeremy to even consider that, you must be—”