I could see what he meant. The assassin’s face had a distinctive Eastern European look to it, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. After all, this was America—the melting pot.
Nico took a step toward the man and slapped him across the face. He jerked awake, his eyes rolling in their sockets, making him look like a panicked horse. He started screaming again and looking down at his ruined leg.
Felipe grabbed a massive wrench on a work table and positioned it over the knee. “Yeah, it fucking hurts, but if you don’t shut the hell up right now, I pound the whole thing to jelly. Got it?”
The man’s eyes jerked up to Felipe and then the wrench, and he made a Herculean effort to bring himself under control. The screaming stopped, but he continued to stare at his dangling leg. He started to gibber in a language I didn’t understand.
Nico glanced at Felipe. “What the hell is he saying?”
Felipe shook his head. “Don’t know. Sounds Slavic? Maybe Polish or Czech? No fucking idea.” He slapped the man’s face. “English, motherfucker, English!”
The guy licked his lips and glared at us, then turned his eyes toward me. “She-beast. Is alive. Woman must be…uh…eradicated.”
Nico stepped forward and towered over the man. “Say that again.”
The assassin cowered in fear. “Please. No hurt. Please.” He had a thick accent that made understanding the words difficult.
“Who sent you?” Nico asked. We, of course, already knew, but Nico probably wanted to hear it anyway.
“Orders were…kill female. Kill she-beast. Werewolf cannot resurface.”
I stepped forward, taking strength in Nico and Felipe being right there. “What do you mean? My wolf can’t surface. I’d need Edemas’s blood for that.”
He glared at me and spat on the floor. “Stupid bitch. You know nothing?”
Nico brought a palm across his face, the sound of the slap echoing through the garage. Blood dribbled out of the man’s mouth. “Call her a bitch again and see what happens.”
The man coughed and spat a wad of phlegm mixed with blood on the floor, nodding that he understood. “Fine, yes. No bitch.”
Nico pulled the gun they’d taken from the man’s holster and pressed the barrel against the man’s good knee. “Start talking. Otherwise you’ll need to get fitted for a wheelchair. First off, what’s your fucking name?”
The man stared at the gun in horror and fear before swallowing. “Uh…my name Bogdan.”
“Okay, Bogdan. Tell us what you know.”
“What is known of the…” He stopped himself from saying what he wanted, remembering Nico’s warning. “Of woman’s father?”
Nico lowered the gun. “We know he was killed by the royals because he had some distant relation to Edemas. The last werewolf king. You all are killing all the descendants until the bloodline is totally gone. That’s all we know about you sick fucks. You kill kids.”
Bogdan gaped at Nico, then glanced at Felipe before his gaze finally rested on me. After a few seconds, he barked a laugh. “You know nothing. Father was not killed because he was a distant relative. Father was killed because he was a full-blooded Hollander wolf. The first in three centuries.”
28
NIKO
“What do you mean he was a full-blooded wolf?” Nico asked.
“Uff, for Americans, you not good at the hearing. I say what I say. David Samuels was a full-blooded wolf.”
“How is that possible?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Bogdan took a deep breath and winced at his leg again, trying to find a more comfortable position. “You know the story of Edemas, yes? That he sent away two children? A boy and a girl?” We all nodded. We remembered the story. Bogdan nodded. “Good, yes. He split the babies up. Both were pureblood. Both alpha. The boy he sent to a pack of wolves that worship Edemas. They were almost like a cult. Fanatics. They ensured the boy only had children with other wolf shifters. None”—he paused for emphasis—“of his offspring were alpha. Not one ever. None of his line carried the werewolf gene. Edemas wanted his progeny to survive, but mostly because he wanted an uprising. A resurgence of the werewolf to rise up and cast down the new royals and avenge him. No alpha? No uprising. Simple.”
“What about the girl?” I asked.
Bogdan shrugged. “Girl is girl. Much harder to track lineage. Last name changes. Women, especially in the past, were sent away for marriage more often. Hard to trace. The boy? We killed all of his line.” He looked pleased with himself after mentioning the last part.
“You think it’s something to be proud of that you all butchered babies and children?” I growled, my voice icy and cold.
