Lost Library: An Urban Fantasy Romance (10 page)

Additionally,
lying on a numb bum for hours had inspired a lot of thought. She was in a trunk, but it was actually quite large. The bottom of the trunk was covered by a thick down comforter, and Goon #2—the blond one with the crooked nose—had provided an improvised jacket-pillow after seeing her stretch out neck kinks at one of the first bathroom stops.

T
hat was another oddity. The breaks were clearly well planned, as the locations were isolated and had sufficient cover for a camping-style potty break. And frequent. She never had to wait uncomfortably long for a bathroom break. Goon #3 traveled in a separate car and had been responsible for providing the meals. The food had been plentiful and not too terrible.

Goon #3 had
also provided a daily change of clothes. They weren’t her clothes, she’d been relieved to see. Lizzie was sure the Goon Squad would have packed her a bag with her own clothing if they had broken into her house. They were so prepared in every other way; they wouldn’t have missed such an opportunity, had they been in her home.

From this c
ollection of odd facts, Lizzie drew a few tentative conclusions. She didn’t think the Goon Squad intended her harm—within the near future, at least. There seemed to be some level of concern for her comfort and well-being. She hoped her dogs were at Kenna’s mom’s house and not hurt, because it was starting to look like they hadn’t broken into her home. These conclusions—optimistic? Yes, but possible. They were enough to steady Lizzie’s nerves as she contemplated her imminent arrival in Idaho.

Politics within the
Texas Pack were currently complicated. Some pack members supported John’s efforts to trace the record book. Others were ambivalent. Conflicting desires pushed and pulled the pack in different directions. The majority of the younger generation was opposed to wasting pack resources on a search for what they considered a useless relic of previous generations. 

As a result, he
was hesitant to seek official pack help in pursuing and recovering Lizzie. The debate between the factions that was sure to follow such a request was more delay than he, or Lizzie, could afford. Fortunately, he had resources of his own.

John called
his friends, and not one of them hesitated to pack a bag and head out the door within minutes. Ben Emerson, Max Thorton , and James Alexander arrived at John’s hotel within three hours. Each man had his own reason for responding—friendship, a debt-owed, a love of adventure—but all three were dedicated friends whom John could trust with pack and personal business. And he considered Lizzie to be both.

The four
men were close friends. The three Lycan didn’t let Max’s humanity get in the way of their friendship. Nor did John, Ben, and James’s turning furry bother Max. Time and employment had scattered them throughout the state of Texas. They stayed in touch mostly through social media and the handful of college games they attended together each year. John said he needed them as quickly as they could get away. So Max had picked up Ben and James in his helicopter. Otherwise traffic would have delayed them by several hours.

Max would always jump at the chance to spend a little time with his friends, but flying was a happy bonus. As a hobby pilot, he could only drum up so many reasons to get his helicopter out, and he had to log a certain number of hours to maintain his license. As a result, Max was in a pretty good mood
upon arrival.

When he arrived
, Max said, “Friends, flying, maybe a little adventure—sounds like a great vacation from my normal gig. That said, are you sure you’re not in any trouble?”

John replied, “I’m good.
Like I said on the phone. It’s a friend, not me, that’s in trouble. I really appreciate you guys coming out to help.”

Ben said, “What kind of trouble are we talking about?” Straight to the heart, that was typical Ben.

After a brief hello, James just waited for the briefing.

Answering Ben’s question, John addressed the group. “I found a Record Keeper and the pack’s book. I secured the book, but the Keeper’s been kidnapped. I need you guys to help me find her and get her back.”

He relayed the information gathered from
Kenna, including Lizzie’s likely whereabouts the previous evening and the estimated time of her disappearance. The men then brainstormed possible explanations.

After bouncing around a few ideas, Max summed up their conclusions. “
Because of the suspicious timing, the most likely scenario is a pack-sponsored kidnapping. Exactly how common are Record Keepers?”

James answered him. “I probably have the most experience with other packs, and I can say with some certainty, not very. There are usually one or two
Keeper families in a pack. As a result, the packs still using Record Keepers value them highly.”

All of the men knew t
here were two things that protected Record Keepers from exactly this situation: membership in a pack—which brings the Keeper under pack laws and protection. And anonymity—Keepers were very difficult for Lycan to identify. They didn’t look or smell differently from other humans, unfortunately.

Ben spoke up, saying what they were all thinking. “You’re careful. You
don’t think you led another pack to her?”

“No.
Though I can’t be sure. I suspect any interest in her would have escalated once they discovered my interest, or, more accurately, the Texas Pack leader’s interest in her.”

              “So who is this woman to you?” asked Max, though all three men had surely been thinking it. “Record Keeper is a position that hasn’t been held within the Texas Pack in decades, if I remember. Why now, and why her?” Max was the only man present who wasn’t Lycan, but he was quite familiar with the Texas Pack.

Christina
, a Texas Pack member, had gotten into some trouble a number of years of ago while she and Max were both still in the military. Max considered her a close friend, so he stepped up, helped her out, and hadn’t flinched when Chris had turned furry. He’d been a de facto member of Christina’s pack, the Texas Pack, ever since.

“
As I said, I might be at least partially responsible for the interest in her. Even if I’m not, we don’t know what’s in the record book—maybe valuable information. And we’ll need her to pull any information out of the book.”

Max asked, “That’s it?”

Avoiding a direct answer, John replied, “It’s enough.” He was certain Max noticed his sidestep of the question, but they didn’t need to know about his personal interest in Lizzie. And since he wasn’t yet certain of his feelings, he could hardly articulate them to his friends.

James, quiet until now,
finally spoke. He brought the conversation away from Lizzie and back to the kidnappers. “If we’re looking at a pack, then which one? Who would stand against Texas? Texas is larger, with more resources than any one pack, and would make a formidable enemy. It would be foolish to act against us.”

After much discussion, the men decided Arkansas and Idaho were the most likely candidates. The proximity, size, and historically good relations with Texas meant John had some information about the Arkansas pack and their recent history. Arkansas lost their young Keeper and her
six-year-old daughter in a car accident approximately two years prior. As best John knew, they still had no Keeper.

Arkansas
was also a strong pack. The third largest pack in North America. John believed that with sufficient incentive, Arkansas might be willing to risk damaging ties with the Texas Pack.

Idaho was a much smaller pack and less likely to work alone against Texas. But Idaho would have greater motivation. The Idaho pack was very traditional, from what John knew
of them. John believed that Idaho had no Keeper. And even if they no longer possessed their book, the position of Record Keeper could still hold some significance within the Idaho pack. John and James both thought Idaho a likely candidate despite their small size and relative lack of influence, primarily because of their higher degree of motivation.

The four men agreed both packs were viable options and required investigation. They
decided to split in half, in order to more quickly cover the geographically diverse targets. As they were discussing logistics and firming up travel plans, a knock on the hotel room door interrupted them.

John knew
Kenna would demand an update soon, but he had hoped to avoid a face-to-face discussion.

Her first words as the door opened were, “I’m going with you.” Her tone was accusa
tory—as if she had expected John to be packing and ready to leave without her. Kenna wasn’t far from wrong. John had planned to call her and briefly outline his plans—mere moments before leaving. He was concerned Kenna would insist upon accompanying him and his men, but she had neither the skills nor the emotional detachment necessary to be an asset on the upcoming trip.

“You don’t know where we’re going, so unless I tell you—you’re not coming with us. You can be more helpful here, where you’ll also be safe.” John paused as Kenna pushed past him into the room, then continued on a different track. “And what would Lizzie say if you were injured, or worse. I doubt she’d be okay with you coming with us. And she would never forgive herself if you were hurt.”

“
I’m sure Lizzie wouldn’t be happy if something happened to me.” She dropped her purse on the ground and sat on the edge of the bed. Looking up at John, she said, “But I’ll be with you, so that won’t be a problem.” She flashed him a wide smile.

Having
made her point, that she was not going to be excluded, she continued. “Lizzie also won’t be happy if we don’t come get her. And I refuse to leave her to a bunch of guys whose motives are questionable, at best. I still don’t know for sure
you’re
not the reason she’s in this mess.”

Max raised his hand. “Do we get a vote here?”

Two simultaneous “no!” responses silenced Max. At which point Kenna looked at John, then at Max and stated, “Maybe. If you’re voting with me, then most definitely.”

Before Max could respond, John intervened. “This is not a good idea, Max.”

Max ignored him and turned to Kenna. “Out,” he said and jerked his head towards the door. “Give us five minutes.”

Kenna
grabbed her purse off the ground and left the hotel room.

“This is the one who had you investigated?” At John’s nod, Max continued. “She’s likely to involve herself regardless of whether we include her. If she’s with us, we’re more likely to know
what she’s doing. You all need some perspective. You’re such an insular group of bastards…” Max scanned the whole group. “…that you don’t see the big picture. Don’t forget, so far as Kenna’s concerned, we’re all Lycan. She knows nothing of Lycan as individuals. That Lycan are like humans in your desires, prejudices, ambitions. In her mind, that probably makes us and our motivations suspect. Of course she wants to come with us—to keep an eye on us.”

Pointing at James, Max said,
“I know James is an idealist, a philanthropist, even. And that he can’t count the number of humans he’s helped.”

James grunted and rubbed the dark blond stubble that gave him such a perpetually disreputable look.

“And that the first punch Ben ever threw was at a Lycan six inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than him, because he was picking on his human friend at school,” Max said.

Ben replied, “I eventually outgrew that guy.” Ben hit about
six-foot-four sometime in college. “He’s still an asshole, though.”

“The point
is,” Max reiterated, “you’re all good guys, decent people. But you’re also something
other
. Something
more
. And that can be frightening.”

“Werewolves.
Lizzie thinks we’re werewolves, so that’s what she’s told her friend,” John interjected
.

“My point exactly.
She probably thinks you’re crazed beasts who lose their sanity at the sight of the moon. And yet, because you told her it was best for her friend, she hasn’t called the police. She’s proven that she can follow directions when it’s important. And, my bet, if we exclude her, she’ll find a way to follow us anyway. So let her come. Put her mind at rest that she’s not leaving her friend’s fate up to a group of rampaging idiots. Explain our plan and the risks. If she still wants to come...then okay.”

Max waited for the verdict. Ben and James deferred to John. After a brief hesitation, John nodded decisively.
Max turned to open the door.

John motioned Kenna back into the hotel room and offered her a seat. When she declined, John spoke. “Long story short. Max Thorton is the dark-headed guy.” Max raised his hand slightly. “He says we’re a bunch of asses, and he wouldn’t trust us if he knew as little as you do. Ben Emerson is the tall red-head, and James Alexander is the short, scruffy guy.” James raised his eyebrows at that. Five foot eleven was only short around these guys. “We’re all Lycan—what Lizzie would have called werewolf—except for Max.”

“And your interest in my friend?” she replied.