“Yeah, well, I’m 49 years old. I’m strong, but I still have my limits. I know Primes who can use their powers against people from farther away than I am from you right now, and some who have to be touching the person. Dorland damned sure isn’t a Prime. Fucker’s always struck me as having an inferiority complex.”
Another snort from the stranger. “You can say that again. Is it my turn?”
“If you want.” Peyton hadn’t missed that the man still didn’t confirm his identity.
He adopted a fake Russian accent. “Welcome to Mother Russia, comrade.” He reverted to his American accent. “Good job, you. You almost made it back into Finland.” He pointed toward the cave’s opening. “Another thirty clicks or so that way. No telling where they dropped you with the helo, but they wouldn’t have risked transporting a Prime all the way from Norway overland, although they likely were working from strict instructions and not from personal knowledge of what you were.”
Peyton tried to digest that info. “In the brief time I was conscious before I escaped, I got the impression they had no idea what or who I was,” Peyton said. “Only that I, or whoever showed up in that area, was the target. They looked like mercs, or maybe former military. They weren’t scientists, and they weren’t wearing any insignia or uniforms. They acted too sloppily to be active military.”
The man nodded. “True. They wouldn’t have let you touch them had they known what you are. They would have shot you up with enough ketamine or something to knock out an active elephant orgy before touching you.”
“Why are you still here?” Peyton asked. “You’ve been gone, what, twenty years now?”
He hesitated. “It’s still safer than being out and about,” he said. “Like I said, I don’t have proof I can take to a Pack Alpha to show them, but I know Ray Dorland sold me out. I also don’t know who’s working with him. That means I’d rather take my chances in the wilds around here. I’ve learned how to survive quite well, as you can see.”
“Then how the hell did I just happen to end up here, in the same place as you?”
“Probably the same reason I did—you instinctively headed west after escaping. You were likely on your way to the same facility I escaped from. When you ran, you stayed clear of roads and people. The land slopes downhill this way. Large-ass valley funnels you in. It’s thickly forested. Relatively clean water to drink. You were looking for and sticking to cover while avoiding humans. If you’ve been running for two days, that would be about right, too. The facility I escaped from is approximately twenty clicks further east of where I suspect you escaped from, if they held you in the building I’m thinking of.”
Peyton nodded. “Yeah.” He thought for a moment. “If I can guess the real reason you’re still here after all these years, on the first try, will you untie me and confirm who you are?”
“I don’t know. I’m still not sure I trust you. You could be working with them. I’ve been out here a long time. I have no idea who the players are anymore.”
“What if I can promise you something big? Life-changing?”
“Like what?”
Peyton couldn’t help smiling. “Like I can take you to Carl.”
The man froze, and Peyton wondered if he’d overplayed his hand. “Who’s that?”
“You’re a terrible liar, Jake. You ever hear of Badger Williams? One-eyed Scottish Prime Alpha with a temper? Couple of hundred years old?”
“Yeah?” he cautiously said.
“He’s part of my family. My parents were Charles and Chelsea Bleacke. Duncan Lister is my grandfather. The former Targhee Pack Alpha.”
The man Peyton now felt certain was Jake slowly nodded. “I heard Duncan was a good man.”
“Still is. We located him in the woods last year and brought him in. He’d willingly gone out to the wild following Grandmother Louisa’s death. We all thought he was dead, that he’d killed himself.”
Now the man stood a little straighter. “He’s still alive?”
“Yeah. He drove his car into a river, survived it, and ended up shifting and running wild for decades.”
Jake warily studied him. “But how does that relate to Carl?”
“Because, Jake, I’m now the Pack Alpha of the Targhee wolves. I’m Peyton Bleacke, Charles and Chelsea’s son. Your son Carl took a knee to me a couple of months ago.” Peyton finally laughed. “He’s one of my little sister’s Enforcers. Him and his mate, Mateo. They met while they were both in the military.”
Jake’s eyes widened as he stared at him, trying to digest that information. “You…you know him?”
“Damn right, I do. He’s a good man—both of them are. As well as Mateo’s little sister, Brianna.”
Peyton wondered if he’d finally blue-screened the man’s brain, because he stared at Peyton as if he couldn’t process what he’d just said.
After a long moment, Jake licked his lips. “Wh-where is he? They, I mean?”
“I’ll tell you the whole story in exchange for untying me. And at least you’ve made one damned thing easy on me because I promised Carl we’d try to help him find you, or figure out if you were even alive, once we finished dealing with this goddamned Faegan Lewis bullshit.”
