Stray

  A strange grating sound met my ears through the phone as I squatted to search a small trash can beside the dresser, in case the key had fallen in. At first, I didn’t know what I was hearing, but then I understood: Daddy was grinding his teeth. “Go on,” he said, his voice barely audible.

  Frustrated, I shoved the can aside. It didn’t matter how little Ryan had participated and why, because being involved at all was bad enough. Even if my father was willing to spare Ryan’s life—and it wasn’t looking good—at least two other Prides would demand my brother’s blood. Unless I could give them a good enough reason not to…

  “He’s still in contact with Miguel and Sean,” I blurted, then rushed on before I lost my nerve. “Daddy, we can use him, if the council is willing to let him live.”

  “Use him for what?” he barked over the line.

  A fur coat, I thought, but held my tongue. Daddy certainly didn’t need any suggestions on what to do with traitors. His imagination was far more capable than mine in that respect. “To catch them.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  I fell on my rear on the filthy carpet, stunned by his response. I hadn’t expected my father to care what I thought, and here he was asking for my opinion. Encouraged, I took a breath and jumped into the deep end of the pool. My father’s end. “Sean and Miguel are checking in with him by phone. If they call and he doesn’t answer, they’ll know something’s up, and they’ll run. And we may never catch them. But if we can get him to answer like nothing’s happened, they’ll keep going, and we can be there waiting for them.”

  Daddy’s chair squeaked as he sat up suddenly. “You know where they’re going?”

  “Yeah. They want one more girl.” Which reminded me that I still hadn’t told him what they wanted us for. There would be time to explain that later. Or maybe I should let Ryan have the honor…

  One by one, I opened Miguel’s drawers, tossing clothes to the floor. Luckily, two of the four drawers were empty, another indication of how temporary their living arrangements were meant to be.

  “Who are they after?” Daddy asked.

  I hesitated, leaning against the empty dresser.

  “Faythe?” His voice was hard and dark, if it was possible for a sound to be dark. “Tell me where they’re going. Now.” It was his business tone, the one no one ever challenged—until now. I couldn’t let Miguel get away. Not after what he’d done to Sara and Abby. Not after what he’d tried to do to me. I’d go after them on my own if I had to, but I stood a much better chance with my father’s help. And I knew how to get it.

  “Are you willing to deal with Ryan?” My pulse pounded as I waited for his answer.

  A pause, then, “Are you trying to negotiate with me?”

  I crossed my fingers and swam in a little deeper, hoping I’d learned something since the last time I bargained with my father. “Yes.”

  “Why? I want to catch them too.”

  “I have a plan. And I want to lead the hunt.” I held my breath, preparing to have my request denied. I wasn’t disappointed.

  “No, Faythe.” Now he sounded weary. “It’s too dangerous, and you don’t have the experience.”

  Pushing away from the dresser, I took a firm stance, even though he wasn’t there to see it. “I had the experience to fight off Miguel and save my own life. I had the experience to kill Eric and break out of my cell. I had the experience to lure Ryan downstairs and lock him up.” My father tried to interrupt but I cut him off, desperate to have my say. “I deserve a shot at Miguel, Daddy, and I’ll do whatever it takes to convince you. I’ll work with a partner and however many of the guys you want to send with me. Just give me a chance.”

  My father sighed. “If we’re negotiating, I need to know what you’re bringing to the table. Tell me who they’re after and outline your plan. Quickly.”

  “Promise not to decide anything until you’ve heard me out,” I said, kneeling by the nightstand to rifle through X-rated magazines and packs of chewing gum.

  “Fine.”

  “They’re going after Carissa, but they’re driving, and it’ll take them all day to get there.” I dumped the contents of the night-table drawer onto the bed, and went through it with one finger. More loose change, more candy and gum wrappers, a Spanish-language audiocassette, and a coil of nylon cord. Hmm, where have I seen that before?

  “When did they leave?”

  “Sometime this morning. Ryan could tell you exactly, if you’re willing to deal with him.” I plucked a small bottle of Tylenol from the junk on the bed and popped open the lid. My shoulder and cheek throbbed dully, but it was nothing a couple of gel tabs couldn’t fix.

  A pause, a thump, and the rustle of pages turning. Daddy had opened his trusty atlas. “Crystal Springs, Mississippi, to Oak Hill, Missouri. That’s at least a nine-hour drive. What do you have in mind?”

  With the phone wedged against my shoulder, I shook two pills onto my palm and blinked. They weren’t Tylenol. And they certainly weren’t over-the-counter. Evidently Miguel had discovered something stronger than alcohol to help him escape the demanding life of a modern-day pillager.

  Taking a deep breath, I dumped the pills back into the bottle and closed the lid, then dropped the container on the bed. “If you just move Carissa somewhere safe, you’ll never see Miguel. He’ll have a plan. He’ll sit outside and wait for her to come out alone. If she doesn’t, he’ll move on, and you’ll never even know for sure that he was there. He’s smart, Daddy.”

  “You’re stalling, Faythe. Get on with it.”

  Another deep breath. “Carissa’s about my height, maybe an inch or two shorter, but Miguel won’t know that. And her hair’s dark enough to look black at night. Mine’s a little longer, but he won’t know that either.”

  “No. Absolutely not.” The desk chair groaned, and I knew he was on his feet. “I’m not going to give him another chance at you.”

  “Just hear me out.” I spoke over his next objection. “The guys will be right there. The best and the fastest. Marc, Parker, Ethan, if he wants. And anyone else you can get there in time. You know the Di Carlo brothers will want a shot at the man who killed Sara. And goodness knows, Uncle Rick will want justice for Abby.”

  My father sighed as if I was testing his patience. “He’d only need one whiff of you to know he’s being set up.”

  Okay, so far so good. He’d only said no once. I could work with one no. “He might,” I admitted. “But I’ll wear Carissa’s clothes and perfume. By the time he gets close enough to recognize my scent beneath hers, the guys will already be closing in on him.”

  “No. It’s too much of a risk.”

  Damn. A second no. I sank onto the unmade bed, gathering my resolve. It was time to play my trump card. I’d really hoped I wouldn’t have to use it, but my anger raged just thinking about what Miguel had done, what he was still trying to do. I would do anything to stop him. To punish him.

  Unfortunately, the key to negotiating with my father was to hide my desperation. Easier said than done.

  “You’ve been trying to make me take an active role in the Pride since I was a kid. Is that still what you want?” I took out my nerves and frustration on Miguel’s pillow, ripping open an end seam as I waited for my father to take the bait. Feathers fell from the breach, floating to the floor to tickle my bare feet.

  “I’d like nothing better,” he said, his voice cautiously optimistic.

  “Good. I’m ready to compromise.”

  Daddy laughed, and under the circumstances it sounded pretty strange. His chair groaned again as he sat back down, comfortable enough with the turn of the conversation to relax physically. “Let me get this straight. If I let you set the trap, you’ll quit school and train to take over the Pride?”

  “Well, that’s where the compromise part comes in.” A smile snuck up on me and I realized with more than a little alarm that—just like my father—I enjoyed negotiation. Damn. I hate it when my parents are right. “If you let me set the
trap, my way, I’ll agree to take next year off from school and work for you, on a trial basis.”

  “Not good enough,” he said without a second of hesitation, and I knew I was no longer talking to my father. The Alpha had arrived. “Five years. It will take at least that long to train you, and I gave you five years for school.”

  “No way.” I shook my head, though he couldn’t see it. “That’s too long, especially if I don’t like it. Two years, max.”

  Static crackled in my ear as he turned on the speakerphone. I could almost see him thinking, eyes closed, hands crossed over his stomach as he leaned back in his chair. “Three years. And you give Marc another chance.”

  Indignant, I huffed air through my nose. “Nice try, but my private life is not part of the deal. I’ll give you two and a half years, and Marc can partner me on the hunt. Take it or leave it.” A tingle zinged through me. I’d always wanted to say that to my father.

  “You’ll stay within sight at all times?”

  “Of course. Is that a yes?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

  “Is that your final offer?”

  “Yeah, and you’re damn lucky to get it.”

  He chuckled, apparently amused by my attempt to hardball him. “Done.” He paused, and I heard what sounded like a pen tapping against the top of his desk. “That’s assuming I can get Umberto and Rick to go along, since this involves their Prides, too. And the Taylors. But I think I can convince them.”

  Yes! A successful negotiation with my father was almost as good as another chance to kick Miguel’s ass. Both at once? Better than Christmas. I stood in front of the mirror doing Ethan’s victory dance, pointed fingers and all.

  “Faythe?”

  I glanced back at Eric’s phone, lying on Miguel’s bed where I’d dropped it when the urge to dance struck. Flushing from embarrassment, I grabbed it and held it back up to my ear. “Yeah. I’m here. Sorry, I dropped the phone.” I knelt on the floor and looked under the bed but found nothing more than a frighteningly thick accumulation of dust.

  “I’ll have Michael make the arrangements.” More papers shuffled. “The guys should be there to get you in just over an hour. You’ll all be flying out of Jackson Municipal Airport on the first available flight. I’ll make the reservations. Do you need anything else from me?”

  I hesitated, going over the plan in my head. “Yeah. I need one of Carissa’s brothers to stay behind and help, so everything looks normal. Or maybe one of the enforcers. Can you swing that?”

  “I’m sure I can.”

  “Great. Thanks, Daddy.” I left Miguel’s room and tried the next door. It was a bathroom, which I passed over in favor of the last remaining room. It had to be Eric’s, and my nose confirmed my guess.

  “What about Abby?” I asked, tossing clothes from Eric’s dresser. We couldn’t bring her, even if she wanted to go. She’d been through so much already, and should never have to see Miguel again.

  “One of the guys can drop the rest of you at the airport, then drive her back to the ranch. Her parents are pretty anxious to see her.”

  I poked through Eric’s desk drawer, pushing aside pencils, stamps, paper clips, and several unlabeled CDs. “You can tell them it’s mutual. She’s something else. Very strong.”

  “I’ll tell them you said so.” Coming from a cat, there was no bigger compliment than being told you are strong, whether physically or mentally. Speed and strength are our most valued assets.

  “Daddy?” I paused in front of the bedside table, searching it with my eyes only, because the entire surface was coated in a sticky, sweet-smelling, brownish film. My best guess was that Eric had spilled soda and hadn’t bothered to clean it up. The key was not in the sticky scattering of junk.

  “Yes?”

  I paused, rethinking what I was about to say. But I’d made too much progress toward conquering my fears to back down now. “Can I talk to Marc?”

  “He’s not here.”

  “Oh.” I swallowed thickly, trying to hide my simultaneous relief and disappointment. The last thing I needed was Daddy reading anything into my request. I’d never hear the end of it.

  “You’ll see him in an hour.” Daddy let his meaning hang in the air for me to do with as I would. He was learning.

  “Oh. Okay.” Marc was with the nearest search party, on his way to Mississippi. My pulse raced, and I was glad my father couldn’t hear my heartbeat over the phone. At least, I didn’t think he could.

  “I need to talk to Ryan now,” he said, gently drawing me out of my thoughts.

  “Sure, just a sec.” I grabbed a pair of jeans lying over the back of Eric’s desk chair. Abby’s key was in the right front pocket, and I took the time for another abbreviated victory dance with it clenched in my fist. Then I ran all the way down the hall, through the living room and kitchen, and shoved open the basement door with the phone in one hand and the key in the other.

  “Abby, I found it,” I shouted the minute my foot hit the first step. I stopped on the fourth tread, checking my signal to make sure I hadn’t lost the connection with my father. So far, so good. As I knelt to set Eric’s phone on the step, the first notes of “Bad Boys” rang out from my pocket.

  Damn. Standing with Eric’s Nokia pressed to my ear once again, I shoved the key into one pocket, then fished Ryan’s phone from the other. The area code was unfamiliar; it couldn’t be my mother. I only knew of one other possibility.

  Ryan confirmed it for me. “That’s Miguel’s dedicated ring.”

  Twenty-Seven

  “Daddy, Miguel’s calling Ryan.” I spoke into one phone with the other held at arm’s length, as if it might explode.

  “Tell him if he plays along, I’ll let him live,” my father said. “That’s all I’m willing to promise at this point.”

  I stared at my brother. “He says—”

  Ryan cut me off with an impatient wave of his hand. “I heard him, but I need more than that. I want out of the cage.”

  “No.” I didn’t bother to ask my father because I knew he’d agree with me. “Daddy made his offer. Your life for your cooperation. But if your hesitation blows our chance at catching them, even if Daddy spares your life, Miguel won’t. And I’ll leave you locked up for him to find.”

  “Bad Boys” played on, and Miguel was seconds away from being diverted to voice mail.

  “You’d leave me here to die?” Ryan’s face made it clear he didn’t believe me.

  “Assuming I don’t decide to kill you myself.”

  His eyes grew smug, his leer cocky. “You wouldn’t kill me.”

  I glanced pointedly at Eric’s body, and he followed my gaze. “Would you have let Miguel sell me to the highest bidder?”

  Ryan crossed his arms over his chest, considering, and his phone kept ringing. His pose was relaxed, as if he thought he had the upper hand, but a bead of sweat rolled slowly down his forehead. I’d scared him. Without unsheathing a claw, I’d scared my brother worse than my father had managed to do in twenty-eight years. That made me wonder what else I was capable of.

  “Take it or leave it,” I said. “Now.”

  “Fine. But you have to tell Dad I was coerced.”

  “I already have.” I set Eric’s phone down on the fourth step to keep it from disconnecting, then raced down the stairs to hand the other one to Ryan.

  “What do you want me to do?” His voice shook as his thumb hovered over the Yes button.

  “Answer the phone and act normal. If he suspects anything, the deal’s off. Same thing goes if you try to keep the phone afterward,” I said in a last-minute burst of good sense.

  Ryan leaned his forehead against the bars and answered his phone. “Hello?” Hopefully Miguel would hear grogginess in his voice where I heard defeat.

  From the other end of the line came the response. It was Sean, using Miguel’s phone. I repressed an urge to jump for joy over my luck as I tiptoed back up the stairs. It was about time the tables turned.

  “I was on
the pot.” Ryan rolled his eyes while Sean yelled something about missing his exit. “No, you did it right. Just keep going north until you see the sign for…”

  When I was sure there would be no problem, I tuned him out and whispered goodbye to my father, promising to call him if anything changed. To Abby, I motioned that I would let her out as soon as Ryan hung up the phone. She nodded, but I knew she was getting impatient, and I didn’t blame her. But I couldn’t take the chance that Sean or Miguel might overhear me opening the cage.

  “I swear Sean is an idiot,” Ryan said, tucking the phone into his pocket. “His sense of direction is so poor I can’t understand how he found his way out of his mother’s womb.”

  “That’s a lovely picture, Ryan, thanks.” I bounced down the steps and let Abby out of her cage. She nearly bowled me over with the enthusiasm of her hug.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she said, glancing at her empty cage in disgust and undisguised fear.

  “Sure.” I nodded toward the stairs. “There’s plenty to eat in the fridge, if you can stand to look at the mess in the kitchen. Why don’t you go have some breakfast.”

  She stared at me like I’d suggested she step back into the cage, for old time’s sake. “Faythe, I can’t stay here. We’re out. Let’s go.”

  “Marc and the guys will be here in less than an hour. We have to wait for them.”

  “Great. A family reunion,” Ryan groaned, still leaning against the front wall of his cage. “It can’t get much better than this.” He hadn’t moved since I’d snapped the lock into place, and as far as I knew, he’d only glanced at Eric once.

  “You’re right.” I held out my hand for his phone. “You’ve got it pretty good. Unless I decide to kick your ass while you’re locked up and defenseless.”

  Ryan laughed as he fished the phone from his pocket. It was not the reaction I’d expected. “If you’re implying that you’ve ever been defenseless, in any sense of the word, you are sorely mistaken. I think Eric, here, is ample evidence of that.”