All true.
A sigh came over the other end and Quinn could picture Macmillan rubbing his hand over his face and smoothing down his goatee. “Here’s what you’re gonna do. Keep an eye on the park and see if you catch a glimpse of any of them. I’m going to watch Riley’s Garage myself.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
“And, Quinn.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t fuck this up.”
The rest of the statement went unsaid as Macmillan hung up. If he messed up again, he was dead. Quinn rubbed his hand across his eyes and pondered his options. From his vantage point last night, he’d watched the wolves run from the park. He’d seen them enter a building not far from where he was now.
He also knew the identity of the man that Jones, Warren and Collins had been watching for days. He’d seen him once before. That was twenty years ago, but he wasn’t a werewolf you forgot. The only question now was what he was going to do about it.
He clutched his phone in his hand and made his decision. Macmillan might have his own agenda, but so did Quinn. Quickly, he dialed a number. He didn’t wait for a greeting when the phone was answered on the other end. “I’ve got a problem. Isaiah Striker is in Chicago.”
The voice on the other end swore. “Trouble?”
“Yeah. You know what to do.” Quinn rattled off the address of the club called Haven and prayed he was doing the right thing.
Steve Macmillan ended the call and then punched in another number. He didn’t quite trust the new guy. He didn’t know Quinn. He preferred to work with men he’d known for years.
“Yeah?”
“Mitch, you hear what happened last night?”
“Fuckin’ wolves got Jones and Warren.”
“Collins too.” Macmillan added.
“What do you need?” That’s what he loved about working with men he trusted, men who had the same agenda as he did.
“I got the new guy watching the park. I want you to send a couple of your men down to watch a club called Haven. Jones sent me a message before he died and said he thought he recognized one of the women from that particular club.” Jones had been a fan of blues music and had gone to the club once or twice. “See what you can find out.”
“I’m on it.” The call ended as abruptly as it had begun.
Macmillan tucked his phone away. If the club had been established for years, then the female he was searching for wasn’t there. That didn’t mean if there was an infestation of werewolves it didn’t need to be dealt with. He’d get the facts first and then plan his strategy.
Isaiah walked the streets for hours. He put one foot in front of the other, not caring where he was going. It was all the same to him. Each step was taking him farther from where he wanted to be.
With Meredith.
The sun rose and still he walked, his long legs eating up the concrete sidewalks. He wondered what she was doing. Was she hurting as much as he was or had she put him from her mind completely? The last thought almost paralyzed him. He’d never be able to forget her. Ever.
His phone rang. He reached into his pocket and hit the answer button without really thinking about what he was doing. It was automatic. Much like breathing. “Yeah?”
“You okay?”
He closed his eyes. Joshua. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, but especially not his happily mated brother. For a moment, he almost hated him. But the feeling passed. His current situation wasn’t Joshua’s fault. He’d fucked up his and Meredith’s relationship, such as it was.
“No,” he answered honestly. He didn’t have it in him to lie or pretend. He was still too raw. Maybe in an hour or two, but not now.
“What happened?”
Isaiah started to laugh, but it was bitter on his tongue. “Nothing for you to worry about. I’ll watch the truck today and leave tomorrow.” No way was he risking leading hunters back to his pack.
Bad enough he’d led them straight to the woman he loved and her kids.
This is all your fault.
Meredith’s words beat at him like a hammer. But he deserved it. He’d been in such a hurry to get back to her, to see her, he’d ignored the niggling feelings he’d been having for days. He hadn’t been as cautious as he normally was.
As usual, when he fucked up someone else paid the price. It had been his sister years ago. This time it was Meredith and her family.
Once again, he’d failed to protect someone he’d loved. And he did love Meredith. There was no denying it any longer. She was the one for him. He’d spend the rest of his life missing her, longing for her.
“Isaiah?”
He’d forgotten his brother was on the phone. He stared at it and simply ended the call. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He waited for it to start ringing again but thankfully, it remained blessedly silent.
His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He didn’t care about eating. He didn’t care much about anything. Not even his family.
That shook him, but didn’t quite pull him out of the numbness that surrounded him.
The woman he loved had sent him away. The sheer terror he’d felt when he’d known she was in danger was unlike anything he’d ever known. Primal instincts—protect or die—had enveloped him until he’d been more beast than man.
Even her pack had found a home in his heart. He’d wanted to kill those hunters all over again for injuring Benjamin, and not just because it upset Meredith. He honestly liked her boys and the rest of them. They were young, but they understood loyalty. You could see the love and respect they had for one another. It reminded Isaiah of how life had been for him and his brothers before Rachel had gone missing.
Like his life, theirs was now changed forever. They’d been safe until he’d stumbled upon them. They’d lived here for years without any hint of trouble. Now they would always be worried, looking over their shoulders. They’d have to consider moving, leaving everything they’d built behind.
What if they told other werewolves? Neema’s words kept rolling around in his brain. Why would it matter? Were they running from a pack? Possibly. But only Meredith and her sons were family. From what little he’d been able to glean, none of them had been with her the same length of time.
Isaiah stumbled to a halt as the possibility struck him. Almost all of them had been kids when Meredith had taken them in. No way would werewolf children be running around on their own. Even if their parents were gone, the pack would raise them. It was too dangerous for a young werewolf to be out in the world alone.
There was only one reason why it would happen.
They were half-breeds. They’d been on their own and running because they hadn’t known who or what they really were until Meredith had found them.
No wonder they’d been afraid of him. Some werewolf packs were just as bad as the bounty hunters, wanting to kill any half-breeds to protect the purity of the bloodlines. And how stupid was that considering they were a dying breed. But beyond that, children were to be protected. No matter what.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath and got a strange look from a passerby. It was only then Isaiah noticed that the streets were starting to get busy. The world was waking up to start their day and he was walking around in bloodstained clothing.
He glanced up and looked at his surroundings, catching sight of a street sign. He might not have paid any attention to where he was going, but his feet had. His motel was only a few blocks away.
Picking up his pace, he made quick time to his room, doing his best to avoid people. The last thing he wanted was someone to remember seeing a man with blood on his shirt. Not that there was much to be seen. Thankfully, he was wearing a black T-shirt. Still, he didn’t want to take any chances.