Wolf Freed Page 5

  Goddamn it. They’re getting too curious.

  I had instructed Val to take the pack and run if they had to, but I hoped like hell we’d be back before it came to that.

  “You called Carl?” I asked Rhys as we crossed the parking lot toward the beat-up old van.

  “Yeah. They know we’re on our way. Molly can’t wait to see you.”

  The thought of reconnecting with the first true friend I’d made outside of Strand—besides my mates—put a genuine smile on my face for the first time all day. Our life was a mess right now, but there were silver linings everywhere, if I remembered to look for them.

  “Carl thinks we’re insane for wanting to break into the same building twice,” Rhys continued. “But he did hack into CCTVs in the area and confirmed there hasn’t been much activity around the complex since crews showed up after the explosion. It looks like they cleared it out and shut it down.”

  “Hopefully they missed something.” Noah opened the van’s side door, taking my hand to help me inside. He’d been the first after Jackson to agree to this crazy idea, and although I saw the worry in his eyes, I appreciated his support.

  I gave his hand a squeeze before releasing it and settling into the middle seat. Noah sat next to me, with Sariah and Jackson in the back, Rhys driving, and West navigating. We hit the interstate quickly, and miles began to roll away behind us.

  A strange combination of peace and dread settled over me as we crossed the state line. As terrifying as it was, at least we were doing something.

  The van had settled into silence, and I swiveled my head, taking in my companions. Rhys had both hands on the wheel, his grip tight, as if he could somehow force the sluggish old vehicle to go faster through his iron will alone. West tapped out messages on the burner phone we’d brought with us, probably discussing rough plans for our break-in with Carl. Noah stared out the window, deep in thought, and behind us, Sariah did the same. Jackson had fallen asleep, his head tipped back as the cutest little snore rumbled from his mouth.

  Biting my lip to hide my smile, I shifted my gaze back to Sariah.

  Her face was set in a determined mask, and she probably didn’t even realize she was clenching her jaw so hard. She looked the same way I’d felt so often after I’d been hauled out of the Strand complex, my world tipped upside down.

  Terrified and on edge.

  Determined not to show weakness.

  She glanced over at me suddenly, catching me staring her. I offered her a hopeful smile, but she didn’t return it. Her face was impassive, but the bright blue of her eyes burned like fire.

  Tell them. Tell them. Tell them.

  She didn’t speak the words, but she didn’t have to. They reverberated in my head like a chant anyway.

  The clock had run out. My time was up. I needed to gather up whatever courage I could muster and tell my mates I was carrying a child.

  I will. Soon, I will.

  Chapter Seven

  It felt strange pulling up to an unfamiliar house in the suburbs of Salt Lake City. I had come to associate Molly’s place in Vegas so strongly with the couple, probably since I’d spent so many weeks locked up inside it recovering after the accident.

  Their new place was bigger and a little fancier, a two-story structure built in a modern style, with clean lines and large windows. As soon as Rhys pulled the van into the driveway, the front door opened. Molly poked her head out, a beaming smile lighting up her face as she got a peek inside the large vehicle. She called something back into the house then trotted down the front steps, coming around the side of the van to greet us.

  She gave Noah and West happy hugs, and when I stepped out, she pulled me into a crushing hug. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her back, trying my best to keep my happy tears at bay.

  “When Rhys called Carl about setting up the hotel arrangements for you guys in Idaho… God, I was so relieved.” She gave me one last squeeze before taking a step back. “I didn’t know if we’d ever hear from you again. You all right?”

  Her sharp gaze immediately went to the bandages on my ear and the other, smaller injuries leftover from my fights with Nils and Elijah. I touched my ear self-consciously, feeling a little guilty about showing up to a nurse’s house with poorly healed, ugly wounds. It felt rude somehow, like showing up to a black-tie event in work boots and mud-stained jeans.

  She didn’t insist on an answer, letting me off the hook by turning to greet Rhys and West as they piled out of the van.

  “You remember my sister, yeah?” Rhys asked, slinging his arm around Sariah’s shoulder.

  “Of course!” Our friend pulled her into a hug too, and although Sariah’s body tensed with surprise, a shy, pleased smile crossed her face.

  “I can’t get over how alike you two look,” Molly mused as she stepped back, her gaze shifting between the two of them.

  “Hey, watch it. You better not be insulting my little sis,” Rhys shot back.

  She tipped her head back and laughed, her honey-blonde hair gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight. “Did you just make a joke, Rhys? Damn. The four horsemen are here, and Rhys found his sense of humor. The apocalypse really must be upon us.”

  The easy chatter continued as we grabbed our bags from the back, and by the time we headed up the walk toward the house, Carl had stepped out to meet us. His straight, dark hair was slicked back on his head like always, and intelligent green eyes shone from a sharp face.

  His greeting wasn’t as effusive as his girlfriend’s, but he seemed genuinely pleased to see us. I realized how strange it must’ve been for them both to have become so invested in helping us free Sariah, only to send us on our way when it was over with no idea of whether we’d make it to our intended destination or not.

  Not for the first time, I wondered how I could ever repay them for everything they’d done.

  Carl immediately ushered the guys into a room with several different computers set up, but Molly insisted on getting a good look at my ear before she’d let me join them. To my surprise, Sariah wandered upstairs and down the hall after us.

  “Here. Sit.”

  Molly ushered me into what looked like a guest bedroom, parking me on the end of the bed. She disappeared for a moment before returning with an armful of medical supplies. Even though she probably hadn’t had to patch up any of Carl’s friends lately, old habits seemed to die hard.

  I tilted my head as she carefully removed the bandages West had wound around my ear. She hissed a breath when she got a look at what was underneath, but although her grimace told me it didn’t look good, she didn’t appear extremely worried.

  “Can you do me a favor?” she asked, glancing at Sariah. “Will you tip that lamp this way so I can see better?”

  Molly jerked her chin toward a light on the nightstand, and the dark-haired girl hastened to comply. Once she’d adjusted the beam to shine on me, she walked back, peering over Molly’s shoulder as she worked.

  “What are you doing?” Sariah’s voice was low, almost a whisper.

  “Well, I’m cleaning it, and I’m also poking around to make sure there are no signs of infection.” Her blue-green gaze caught mine. “There aren’t. But this part, right here?” She pointed, and Sariah’s focus followed her finger. “Ideally, that should’ve been stitched up as soon as possible. It would’ve been a little hard anyway, because it’s not a clean cut—this wasn’t a knife wound, it looks like teeth or claws. But it’s too late to do any of that now, because it’s already started healing. So she’ll always have those divots and chunks missing from her ear.”

  “Hey, it’s not that bad. I look—ow!” I winced as she poked at it. “I look cool. Scars are badass, right?”

  “Yeah.” Molly’s face softened, an indulgent smile spreading her lips. “Yeah, they are.”

  She continued to examine and re-patch my wounds, explaining everything she was doing to Sariah, who watched with rapt interest. When the younger girl’s gaze cut to Molly, I saw something like hero worship
on her face.

  A bittersweet ache squeezed my heart.

  Sariah had never looked at me like that, not even before she was mad at me. I had done what I could to help her settle into life outside of Strand, and God knew Rhys had done everything he could possibly think of, practically smothering the girl with his brotherly love.

  But Rhys was always fighting—to make a better life, to protect the people he loved. It was the only way he knew how to engage with the world, and I guessed I shared some of that trait with him, because I couldn’t remember a time in recent memory when I hadn’t been fighting too.

  Maybe what Sariah really needed in her life, though, was someone who wasn’t fighting. Someone with a big and open heart, who shined light wherever she went.

  Someone like Molly.

  After Molly looked over every cut, bump, and bruise I’d gotten since I saw her last, Sariah ducked out to go see what the guys were up to. As her footsteps retreated down the hall, Molly closed the door behind her with a soft click.

  She turned to me, her hand still resting on the knob. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I blinked in surprise. “Positive. You just gave me whole work-up, and you said everything looks fine.”

  “Yeah.” She cocked her head, her gaze drilling into me like I was a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve. “On the outside.”

  Her words caught me off-guard, and unconsciously, my hand slid over my belly. She tracked the movement, and I saw the exact moment the truth clicked into place in her brain. Her jaw dropped, and she took a half step toward me.

  “Oh my God. Alexis, are you…?”

  I nodded.

  “Holy shit!”

  “It’s… new,” I said quietly. “The guys don’t know yet.”

  “Understood.” Her blue-green eyes showed no hint of judgement as she strode over and sank down onto the bed beside me. “How are you feeling? Anything I can do?”

  Her easy acceptance of my decision not to tell them yet, especially after Sariah’s anger, made my heart swell with gratitude. Maybe it was because she was older than Sariah, older than me, that she realized things could rarely be painted in stark black and white. She didn’t even ask my reasons for keeping it a secret, and I was grateful for that too.

  “I’ve had some pretty bad morning sickness, but I’m hoping the worst of it is over. And I’ve been maybe a little more tired than usual. But honestly, with everything going on, it’s really hard to tell what’s the baby and what’s just stress,” I admitted.

  “Yeah. Stress is no good for anyone.” She reached over and squeezed my hand. “But maybe we can do something about the morning sickness.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. I mean, I’ve only ever treated pregnant humans, but assuming the basics are the same, I can give you some ideas to try.”

  “That would be amazing, Molly. Thanks.”

  She grinned and proceeded to fill me in on the basics of pregnancy, what to expect, and how to deal with things like morning sickness.

  My fake mom and I had never really had ‘the talk’, so pretty much everything I knew about being pregnant came from books, movies, and TV shows. I listened intently, soaking up everything the sweet blonde nurse told me, devouring her knowledge greedily.

  When we went downstairs to rejoin the others half an hour later, everything about my pregnancy seemed a little more real—and a little less terrifying.

  Chapter Eight

  That night, we all gathered in the kitchen, eating pizza and catching up on everything that’d happened since the last time we’d seen each other. The conversation was strangely absent any mention of Strand, although the reason for our visit hung over us like a cloud. The next twenty-four hours would be dedicated to breaking into the destroyed complex—hopefully an easier task this time—and searching for information, but for just a little while, it was nice to pretend that wasn’t what this trip was about.

  Maybe some of my nausea had been due to stress, because my appetite returned with a vengeance, and Jackson happily teased me about eating almost an entire pizza by myself. I just smiled and patted my belly as I leaned back in my seat, listening to the chatter of voices all around me. The kitchen was warm and inviting, and the sound of the casual conversation soothed me.

  I want this all to be real. Not just pretend.

  The thought bounced around in my head like a pinball before I grabbed it, bringing it close to my heart and holding it there.

  Rhys was up before dawn the next day, chomping at the bit to start making plans. He and Carl pored over footage of the area surrounding the complex, noting who had come in and out since our last break-in, and when. Jackson and West ran out to get supplies, and in the early afternoon, Noah found me paging through a bunch of occult books Molly had dug up, searching for anything that even vaguely resembled the tattoo on Nils and Doctor Shepherd.

  “Any luck?” he asked hopefully.

  “No.” I closed a heavy volume, resisting the urge to chuck it across the living room.

  Friends don’t destroy their friends’ books.

  “Shit.” His face fell briefly. Then he shook his head and hefted the small gym bag he carried higher on his shoulder. “Hey, come with me.”

  “Where are we going?”

  I was already up off the couch and following him toward the door as I spoke. I’d gone through nearly every book already, and that was after Molly had looked through them all. My eyes needed a break.

  “You’ll see.”

  He shot me a mischievous grin that would’ve been more fitting on Jackson before snagging the keys off the table and leading me outside. We hopped into the van, and his lopsided smile only grew as he noticed my curious gaze on him.

  It took us about thirty minutes to reach our destination—a large warehouse. It was a big gray structure with no outward signs or markings at the end of a long, winding road.

  “You’re not gonna kill me, are you?” I asked, cocking my head at him.

  I was kidding, although there had been an instance early in our time together when the guys had driven me to the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse and I’d been momentarily convinced that was exactly what they planned to do.

  Now? The idea was laughable.

  Noah just flashed his breathtakingly gorgeous smile again before grabbing the bag, hopping out, and escorting me toward the building. We paused at the door so he could punch in a code on a keypad, and then he held it open for me, ushering me through.

  Another door greeted us almost immediately, and Noah punched in a code there too.

  We walked into a space that looked like a massive, old-school gym—the kind serious boxers would train at, where substance beat style every time. Nothing in the place was pretty, but it was all practical. There was even a small, roped-off ring on one side, along with weights and barbells, several heavy bags, a speed bag, and some other equipment whose purpose I couldn’t guess.

  A few burly men worked the bags, sweat dripping down their massive arms and chests.

  “Hang on.” Noah put his hands on my shoulders to park me in place before crossing over to the guys. They spoke in low tones for a few minutes, then my mate nodded and returned to me. “Okay. We’re good to go.”

  Leaving them to punish the heavy bags, he led me through another door at the far side of the large space.

  I blinked as we entered the new room.

  No wonder this place was locked up so tight. It was full of fucking guns.

  My gaze flew to Noah. “Is this Carl’s?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “An old friend of his owns it. They reconnected when Carl and Molly got here, and the guy lets him come here to train and do target practice.”

  “And we’re here because…?”

  “Because you need more practice, Scrubs,” he said gently. “I’ve seen you handle yourself in a fight, but you’ve told me yourself, a good chunk of that is just instinct and adrenaline. Believe me, both of those things will get you a long way, but…” He t
railed off. As if he couldn’t help himself, his hand reached out to tangle with mine, and he pulled me to him, wrapping an arm around my waist. “When it comes to you, I’d rather not take any chances.”

  Touched by the sentiment, I lifted up onto my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. His grip on me tightened, and he returned the kiss for a long, sweet moment before reluctantly stepping back.

  I cleared my throat, trying to gather my wits. “So, you want me to practice shooting?”

  Noah nodded. “Yeah. That, and a little non-wolf self-defense. I know your wolf form is your go-to if you’re feeling threatened, but it seems worth making sure you’ve got some basic human defensive moves down too. Just in case.”

  “Okay.”

  The idea of getting into a fight and not being able to shift into wolf form made my heart lurch into my throat, so I just pushed past it. It was hard to believe how much a part of me my wolf had become. Losing her would feel like losing a limb.

  Worse.

  A part of my soul.

  Noah showed me around the space, helping me get set up with a pair of ear protectors and safety glasses before picking out a medium-sized handgun for me to try.

  The metal felt cool against my palm, and despite my awful history with these things—I wasn’t sure I could ever look at a gun without envisioning my ‘mother’ aiming one at my face—I knew Noah was right. The more options I had to reliably defend myself, the better.

  “Ready?”

  I nodded, and he brought me into another section of the warehouse that housed the shooting range. With the ear protectors on, outside sounds grew muffled, and I could hear my pulse beating loudly in my head.

  My first shots went so wide of the target it wasn’t even funny. Thank fuck, Nils had almost been on top of me when I’d shot at him, or there was no way I’d have managed to hit him.

  “It’s okay, Scrubs.” Noah raised his voice a little, reaching his arms around me from behind and tapping my feet with his to adjust my stance. He was so much bigger and taller than me that his whole body seemed to envelop mine in this position, his fresh scent filling my nostrils. “That’s what practice is for, right? Just try again.”