“You okay?” I asked.
She stared into her mug. “I will be. I just… I miss her, even though I’m angry.”
I thought of my own brother, dead and gone for twenty years, and how every night I talked to him in my dreams. “She’ll be glad to see you.”
Harper snorted. “She’ll be furious. But that’s better than her being afraid.”
I slid my hand over hers, anchor and lifeline. “We do this right, she’ll never have to be.”
We sat together until the sun made the river outside gleam, and for the first time since we’d landed, I felt the old pack magic: the sense that no matter what hunted us, we’d hunt it right back.
Let the world come for us. We were Iron Valor, and we’d built our home out of war.
We’d set the library up to handle our video conference, linked to secure servers in two countries. We’d patched in Bronc, Gunner, Juliet, and Aspen from Dairyville; Rafe and two of his guys from a secure site in Birmingham.
Bronc looked like he hadn’t slept. His hair was spiked more silver than black, and the blue in his eyes shone bright and clear. Gunner was beside him, boots up on the credenza, face slack but eyes sharp. Juliet perched at the edge of the table, hands folded over her belly. Aspen stood a little behind, arms wrapped around herself, a smile softening the lines of her face even though it had to be past midnight in Texas. She wore a bright orange top with white polka dots, her hair piled high in a messy bun. Oscar satperched on her shoulder. He wore an orange cravat with his navy blazer and plaid vest.
Harper and I sat together, side by side; my hand never left hers. Parker ran the AV from the head of the table, with Wrecker pacing behind her, always moving, always needing to burn off his pent up energy that was more than the massive amounts of caffeine he consumed.
Marcel and Etienne joined us, bringing a whiff of Gauloise cigarettes and expensive deodorant. The air in the room felt like an electrical storm trapped in a box.
Bronc started the call. “Let’s get to it. I want to hear it from the boots on the ground.”
I outlined the Bougival setup—how the Renaults had shifted their center of gravity. Marcel confirmed: “The Renault Pack is dirty. They have moved girls—some wolf, some not—through their territory for at least six months. It is not common, but enough to be noticed if you look.”
Wrecker chimed in, “They’re doing it for someone. We don’t think it’s just for local trade.”
Juliet cut in. “Who’s paying them?”
“Steiner,” Parker said, not even looking up from her tablet. “We’ve traced three wire transfers from a shell in Luxembourg that maps to his operations in Houston.”
Wrecker’s voice rang out as he stopped his pacing. “Seems they use the art school to launder cash. And to hide the girls for a night or two before moving them.”
Rafe, all polished Southern steel, leaned in to his camera. “So, you have a plan for extraction? I’d caution you that Steiner hasn’t made a move yet because he’s waiting for you to expose yourselves. He knows you’re coming. And it’s his plan to stop you.”
A muscle ticked in my jaw. “He can try.”
Bronc raised a finger. “Arsenal, what’s your move?”
“We go after Nanette first. She’s the linchpin. If we convince her of the danger, Brie follows. But we have to do it where Renault enforcers won’t try to snatch us.”
Harper looked up at the screen. “The only place she’ll trust me is at the café or nearby museum. If I show up at the house, they’ll lock it down.”
Gunner finally spoke, slow as ever. “You want to use Harper as bait?”
The idea sent a shiver down my spine. “No. We use her as the messenger. She goes in, draws out Nanette, we cover from outside.”
Juliet’s eyes never left the camera. “That’s bait, sugar.”
I growled—an actual, low, throat-rumble. “No. She is not bait. We do not dangle my mate in front of a trafficking pack and hope for the best. That is not the play.”
Bronc’s voice was a glacier. “Stand down, Arsenal.”
I glared, but nodded. I would never challenge my Alpha on open comms, but goddamn if I didn’t want to.
He softened. “She’s the only shot we have at making this work. If there were another way, we’d take it.”
Juliet offered, “We send two shadows with her. Even if the Renaults clock it, they won’t risk a public scene. Paris packs still have rules, even if they don’t have morals.”
