“Why?” I turn to Callum, arms out wide. “Why did they take all four of them, and how the fuck did they know they were headed this way?”
Callum scowls. “No fucking clue. They had to have been waiting for them.” He turns in a circle, gesturing at the road. This stretch is long and straight. There’s no way the FBs managed to come up behind without anyone noticing. “They’d have called it in the second they saw them.”
It doesn’t add up.
“Maybe they’ve been watching us?” Jet joins us at the side of the road. “We watch them often enough.”
“But they wouldn’t know where Flint and the others were heading. There are about six different routes they could’ve taken once they left the compound. How did they fucking know?”
The four shifters from the Trenton have been quiet until now, keeping their distance while the three of us inspect the scene. But one of them beckons us over.
It’s one of the betas that Beth knows.
“We had a visit from the local hunter group yesterday,” she says, glancing at the mangled bikes behind us. “It was a routine check, same group we always get. You know how it goes.”
I nod, because I do.
But icy dread trickles down my spine.
“We had to tell them that we were expecting guests from another pack for an overnight stay in case they did a follow up visit.” She meets my eyes. “We told them we were expecting your pack.”
We’re all silent as that bit of news sinks in.
“No.” Jet shakes his head. “There’s no way the FBs are working with hunters.” He paces in front of us. “They had one of their pack put to fucking death three months ago because he broke hunter rules. I know they’re a bunch of cunts, but they hate the hunters as much as we do. Probably more.”
He’s right.
Everything he said is true, and yet . . .
“How else would they know to wait on this stretch of road?”
Jet throws his hands in the air. “I don’t fucking know. But does it even matter right now? They have our people, and we need to get them back.”
I share a look with Callum, because once again Jet’s right. “No, it doesn’t matter.” The only thing that matters is finding out where they took them. I walk over to Morgan’s Dyna, rage building inside me all over again. She was a beauty this morning when they left the compound. Now it looks as though someone took a hammer to her. I close my eyes, searching for control that’s really fucking hard to find right now. “Cal,” I grind out, hands curling into fists. “Get someone to collect their bikes.”
He pulls out his phone and makes a call.
Jet walks over to stand beside me. “How the fuck do we track them?” He rolls his shoulders, and I wonder how hard it is for him to remain human right now. The only thing stopping me from giving in to the growing pull inside is the fact we need to communicate with each other. And that’s easier if we can speak.
We’re surrounded by scents, but they all stop about twenty feet down the road. There’s no way we can track a car or van. I glance at the Trenton pack beta. “You found all their phones, right?”
She nods and shrugs out of the small rucksack on her back. “Here,” she says, handing me four battered-looking phones.
Jet retrieves them and walks them over to me, frowning.
“What?”
Handing me the first two phones, he says, “These are Mal’s and Flint’s.”
I can’t help but growl at the blood spattered all over them. My teeth ache and my fingers throb, the need to shift harder and harder to contain.
He holds up another, the screen saver showing Morgan and Ash laughing at each other with a backdrop of a sandy beach behind them.
I want to fucking break something.
“Morgan’s,obviously.” He pauses. “And then there’s this one.”
I don’t recognise the one he’s left holding.
