The girl’s room is the second window from the left on the upper floor. Her light appears, stays on for a while, then finally clicks off. Moore’s room is at the far end. His light is the last to go.
The house settles into darkness. I give it another thirty minutes, letting the silence deepen, waiting for him to fall into whatever sleep a man like him is capable of. Does he have pleasant dreams after congratulating himself on a job well done?
The whole time, that scent lingers at the edges of my awareness. Closer now. Stronger. I breathe through my mouth to keep it from distracting me.
Finally, my wolf reaches the end of his patience, and it’s time to move on to the next step. “Let’s go.”
We move on foot, staying low, using the tree line for cover until there’s nothing left but the open stretch of yard between us and the house. The night is still overcast; no moon, no stars. Just the thick, low clouds that have been hanging around for hours. Good. The darker the better.
Kyran takes two of his bears around to the back. Cole and Zeke flank the front door. I go in through a side window that’s been left unlocked. Sloppy, for a man with so many enemies. Or maybe not sloppy. Maybe it’s the confidence of someone who believes his fences with razor wire and guards are enough.
They’re not.
I move through the dark, quiet. Beginning with the first floor on instinct, letting my eyes adjust. Hardwood floors, area rugs, expensive furniture. No family photos on the mantel at all, only books and medical journals stacked in neat rows. The kitchen is clean, telling me no one really cooks in it. Resembling a model home, or a movie set. It’s almost eerie.
I find the stairs and take them two at a time, placing my feet at the edges where the wood is less likely to creak. Moore’s room is at the end of the hall. The door is closed, but not locked.
He’s asleep when I open it. Flat on his back, breathing evenly, one arm draped across his chest. For a man whose work involves caging and experimenting on people, he sure sleeps soundly.
That tells me something about him that I already suspected. He doesn’t feel guilty. He doesn’t lie awake wondering if what he’s doing is wrong. He sleeps like a man who believes he’s right.
I cross the room in a few long strides, clamp one hand over his mouth, and haul him out of bed before he can make a sound.He’s lighter than I expected—thin, wiry. His eyes fly open wide, and he tries to scream against my palm.
“Don’t,” I warn. Low and steady, the voice I’ve been practicing since I became alpha. “Make a sound and this gets worse for you and the girl.”
He goes still. Smart man.
I drag him downstairs, his bare feet scrambling on the hardwood, and drop him on the living room couch. Cole and Zeke are already inside, near the living room doorway. Kyran fills the opposite corner, arms crossed, breathing hard.
Moore’s eyes dart between us, calculating. Even in his pajamas, hair standing on end, pulse hammering in his throat, I can see the gears turning. He’s sizing us up. Strategizing. Already looking for leverage.
Then I hear heavy footsteps on the stairs, and one of Kyran’s bears appears in the doorway with the girl.
She’s half-conscious, blinking against the sudden light when Cole switches on a lamp. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt and pajama shorts, her blonde hair tangled, her skin pale. She looks sick. Wrung out. She’s leaning into the bear’s grip, not because she wants to, but because her legs can’t hold her up.
And there it is again. That tugging sensation I felt before. Stronger now, more intense than anything I’ve ever known. My wolf surges forward so hard I almost lose my footing while every instinct screams at me to cross the room and rip her out of that bear’s hands.
Not because he’s hurting her. He’s not. He’s being careful, his grip light on her arm.
Something in me doesn’t want anyone else’s hands on her at all.
Now is not the time. Whatever this is, it has to wait. “Sit her down,” I order, and my voice comes out rougher than it should.
The bear guides her to the armchair near the fireplace. She drops into it, and right away, her head touches the back like it’s too heavy for her to hold up. She’s shaking. Whether from cold, fear or whatever was done to her at that facility, I can’t tell. Probably all three.
I turn back to Moore. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” I tell him. “You’re going to shut it down. All of it. The facility, the experiments, whatever you’re running out of any other location. You’re going to dismantle your operation, release anyone you’re holding, and disappear. If you do that, this ends here. Tonight.”
He stares at me. The fear is still there, I smell it on him, but something else is creeping in underneath it. Something that looks a lot like amusement. “And if I don’t?” he asks before he rakes his fingers through his hair to tame it. As if that’s what matters now.
“Then we take your daughter.” The words taste wrong in my mouth, but I force myself through it. “And you can spend the rest of your life wondering what happened to her.”
I wait for his face to crumble the way any father’s would when his child’s safety is on the line. That’s the whole point. He took our people, so we threaten to take his. Eye for an eye. The only language men like him understand.
But he doesn’t crumble. Helaughs. Acting like I’ve just said the funniest thing he’s heard in years. He leans back against the couch cushions, shaking his head while another laugh falls from his lips.
I glance at Cole. He looks as confused as I feel. Zeke’s hand has drifted to the knife tucked into his waistband.
“What’s so funny?” I demand.
