Page 22 of Hunted

“Kieran wants in on this.” Topher exchanged a look with West, who offered a supportive smile. Topher and his brother Kieran had both been held as blood slaves. Few blood slaves were ever recovered alive and some of the ones that were developed the ability Topher and Kieran had to sense when vampires were near. Kieran had just completed Tracer boot camp and would be a huge asset to the team. There was only one problem.

“He’s not cleared yet after being exposed to Blackout. His skillset is also way too valuable to the Tracers. Guillermo will never go for it.”

“I already cleared it with him,” Brody interrupted, and there was no missing the trace of satisfaction he wasn’t quick enough to hide at getting to go over my head. “We talked before you got here. He had to check in with another meeting. August will patch him back in as soon as he’s free.”

I gritted my teeth, head pounding harder. “Who else?”

“Xander St. Clair.”

Xander was a friend of London Blake’s and a former feral wolf. Not only was he a damn good fighter, but as part of the North Austin pack, he would be familiar with the area and useful on the ground.

“I’m fine with Xander. Who else?”

Brody drummed his fingers on the kitchen table, jaw set. “Quinn.”

Quinn was a werewolf who’d escaped the medical testing labs held on a secret military base. He was a wall of muscle at six foot three and two hundred and ten pounds.

“Out of the question. Rossi has brainwashed him more times than we can count. He’s too big of a security risk.”

You always do this, make up your mind before you even bother to hear any of us out.

I let my head thump back against the wall. Ordinarily I would have hand picked Quinn for the team myself. But the risk was too great. I couldn’t take chances when it came to Ellie.

“Too big of a security risk?” Brody barked out a laugh. “That’s rich. So why don’t you tell us. Is it true you’re teaming up with Cristof to hunt Rossi?”

Everyone in the room turned to stare at me. West dropped the doughnut he’d been about to put on his plate. Major inched towards it like every werewolf in the room couldn’t hear his nails clicking surreptitiously on the kitchen tile. Poppy growled. Brody whipped around, shooting the golden menace a warning look just in time to see Major sitting innocently at West’s feet, tail flagging like the dog in the LL Bean commercial.

“Where did you hear that?” I said icily. Brody said nothing, but the answer popped into his head despite his efforts to block it. Vlad. That bastard. “I see.”

“Brody,” Cal said calmly. The rest of our brothers were subtly inching away, clearly worried we were going to wolf out, leap for each other over the dining room table, and destroy London’s pretty new poppy-printed dishware. “Let’s move on.”

“No. He needs to hear me out,” Brody snapped. “Quinn is perfect for the protection detail. In addition to his military background, he’s a natural shield. Resistant to shapeshifter magic.”

“He may be a shield, but Rossi still got into his head,” I shot back. “You’re right. I don’t bother hearing ideas out when I know they aren’t going to work. This is what I do. I know how Rossi’s gift works because it’s my gift, too. If he’s rewritten Quinn before, screwed around in his head, Quinn will always be vulnerable to him. That pathway, if you will, is already laid. Putting him on Ellie’s team is the worst idea imaginable. We’ll be giving him an easy in.”

“Not if you write the shield protecting Quinn’s mind yourself,” Guillermo said, and August turned his computer so we could see the live video conferencing session. “Better yet, if both you and Fallon do it.”

“I’ll do it if you order me to,” I said carefully. “But I think it would be a mistake. Rossi is good at exploiting vulnerabilities. It’s how he always seems to stay one step ahead of us.”

There was a beat of silence. “We discussed the last person, but I’m not sure anymore. Phoenix Richards has been at our medical facility for months receiving treatment. He’s a powerful neural manipulator and knows the area, but psychologically, he’s too unstable.”

“And he’s another of Rossi’s past rewrites,” I pointed out. “What, are we just offering up a line of potential targets to exploit?” And then it hit me. “No fucking way. That’s exactly what you’re doing.”

“River—” My uncle warned. “Calm down.”

Brody shook his head and I caught Cal shooting him a sharp look.

“I won’t fucking calm down. You’re using Ellie as bait.”

“We’ve been over this,” Guillermo said. “She’s already a target. Nothing we’re doing changes the calculus on that. You’re too close to this particular protectee, and that’s caused you to lose perspective. I need you to keep a clear head or I will be forced to remove you from her detail and have someone else oversee her case.”

The room blurred around me, my wolf incandescent with rage, fighting to break free from my bones. I was glad Guillermo wasn’t physically here, couldn’t feel how close to losing control I was. Seething, I stalked out into the front hall. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cal move to follow me. I didn’t hear what Brody said next, blocking his voice from my mind despite the white-hot wave of pain. Leaning against the wall, I sank to the floor and rubbed my temples. Something warm and savory appeared in front of my nose.

“Dallas sent over breakfast tacos from The Spoke.” Cal crouched beside me. “Egg, bacon and cheese. We saved you some.”

I took the first breakfast taco, inhaling half of it in one bite. It was delicious, the bacon perfectly crisp, the eggs buttery, the sharp cheddar adding just the right flavor, which was no surprise. I was pretty sure Dallas could have taken unidentifiable three-day-old roadkill, slow smoked it just right, crafted the perfect sauce, plated it up and made the front page of Texas Monthly. And if he ever tried to feed it to me, I would kick his ass. But I had a weakness for breakfast tacos, and the whole family knew it.

Next Cal passed me the largest takeout coffee Dark sold. “Ethan made you an extra dark roast Americano with six shots of espresso just like you like it.”