“I was kidnapped,” Peyton finally said. “Your turn.”
“Who kidnapped you?”
“I don’t know who, but I suspect I know why. There’s a rogue wolf selling our kind out, and the assholes grabbed me while I was searching for someone in the woods. Set me up and ambushed me.”
The stranger scowled. “Where’d they grab you?”
“Outside of Bodø.”
The man’s thick, unruly brows knitted in a scowl under his bushy bangs. “Where’s that?”
Uh-oh. “Am I still in Norway?” Peyton asked.
The strange wolf snorted, amused. “Nope. Not even close.”
“I was outside of Bodø, Norway. I’m trying to locate a rogue corgi shifter from Wales. He’s killed people. He’s been on the run for months and keeps escaping. I think throughout the years he’s cultivated a network of informants and helpers, probably humans, likely a crime syndicate. The Pack Alpha of the Staffordshire Pack in England and I have issued pack blood edicts on him. And a considerable cash bounty for his head. I’m staying in Bodø, but I was searching and running down our best lead yet in the wilderness northeast of town. Now I’m thinking the tip was fake and meant to lure someone out on their own.”
“Gee, ya think?” The guy studied him for a few minutes without talking. “I know you’re a Prime,” he finally said, “so I’m not stupid enough to get within touching distance of you while you’re conscious. I felt it while I carried you here. But if you could control me from this distance, you’d already be untied by now and have me spilling my guts. So you might as well satisfy my curiosity. Neither of us are going anywhere until that happens, and I don’t have a death wish.” He popped one of Peyton’s bilberries in his mouth. “These are tasty, though. Good job.”
Peyton suppressed his growl. It was stupid, yes, but the sock-scented bilberries were the closest thing he had to food. “What do you want to know?”
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“I’m an American.”
Another barked laugh from the stranger. “That’s not what I asked, and you know it. I can tell you’re an American from your accent. Try again.”
Peyton struggled to contain his growing rage. “Well, that’s all the fucking info you’re getting. Like hell am I giving away my pack, especially when my mate, little sister, and sister-in-law are all pregnant, as well as others in our pack.”
Another moment of silence from the guy, and Peyton waited him out. “Ray Dorland,” he finally said.
Peyton couldn’t control his snort of disgust. “That fucker in Australia? No, I’m not him. And he can damned sure stay there, far as I’m concerned. That asshole’s no friend of mine.”
“No,” the stranger quietly said. “That’s who sold me out. That’s who was behind it, although I don’t have proof. My word against his.”
Something clicked into place in Peyton’s brain when he took another long, deep breath, this time really scenting the other wolf. “Waaaait a minute.” Peyton’s gaze narrowed as he studied the man’s face, especially his eyes. “Are you… Are you Jake Peterson?”
Like an electrical field snapping on, tense, wary alertness now shrouded the man. He even took a step back, grabbing a spear that had been propped against the wall behind him, unseen by Peyton until now.
He brandished it at Peyton. “Why would you ask that?” It wasn’t a denial or an outright confirmation, but Peyton heard how the man’s pulse spiked, indicating his guess was correct.
Peyton wriggled around a little more to see him better, now grinning and willing to give him additional info. “Fuckers jumped me, drugged me. Shot me with tranq darts from a distance to bring me down. I woke up in the old office of a farm equipment barn somewhere. I played possum for a while, watching them. After a couple of them went to sleep, I shifted to get free of my restraints. When one of the guys came in to check on me, I took control of him. Far as I know, he was the only one who spoke English.
“I took him over with my Prime, forced him to walk out ahead of me, shot one of the guys then turned him loose on the others with his gun and told him to stop them from following me. With that clusterfuck as a distraction, I boogied out of there.”
“What language were they speaking?” the guy asked.
“Only the one guy spoke English, but he had a really thick accent. I think the rest were speaking Russian. I heard the word ‘laboratoriya” mentioned a few times. I have no idea where I was, or where that lab was—if that’s what the word means—in relation to where they held me. I don’t even know where I am right now. I’ve been running for two days. Not sure how long I was unconscious before I woke up in the barn.”
The man’s eyebrows arched. “You’ve got style, I’ll give you that. Why didn’t you take the others over?”
“Because there were at least five of them and they all had guns. There were others due back soon. It was better to escape and run. I’m a Prime, not a genie. Your guess that I can’t control people from a distance is spot-on. I can’t, unless I’ve already controlled them and given them an order to obey me.”
“How many casualties? Did you leave behind, I mean.”
“Don’t know. I didn’t kill any of them myself because I didn’t want to trigger a feeding rage. I’m certain most, if not all, of the ones I saw are dead, unless one of the others got the better of my human shield. And I left him with an order to kill himself if he survived. I heard gunshots as I left, but I already had a jump on them. I heard a vehicle at one point, and then a helo later. Managed to stay ahead of them and kept running. And now, here I am.”
The man studied him again, his posture relaxing slightly but still keeping the spear up and ready. “I thought Primes were more powerful than that. You can’t do shit from a distance?”
