Primal Night Page 3

  “Apologies.” He regarded her for a minute and nodded. “You’re right. I don’t know you. It doesn’t change the fact I need that information.”

  Silence stretched between them. “If I tell you what I know,” he said. “Will you exchange information with me?”

  “Possibly.” It would depend on what he shared. If she could sense the truth to his words and Gracie and the other females were truly in danger and not from Ryker, then she’d tell him everything she could.

  The latest events had been a real eye-opener on the things she’d been willing to do. Making a human follow the orders of a military madman was low even for her. Especially considering her history. Was she sorry for her actions? Of course. It wasn’t like she’d done it for money. She needed safety. Protection. All those things lay within a pack. In life it was survival of the fittest, and she was going to make sure she was damn well strong enough to survive. It was just a shame her desperation had caused others to get hurt.

  The thought of pack caused her heart rate to spike. It was ironic the very thing she feared, she needed the most. That was why it was imperative that she had her own loyal pack before the Outlaw’s finally struck.

  “You need to understand the stakes.” Ryker’s lips thinned. “Shifters will kill to keep this quiet. The Council will kill to keep this quiet. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Ryker’s words snagged her attention better than a fish on a hook. Interesting. Briefly, she wondered what kind of situation would cause such a reaction. Then she shook her head and focused on the information she did know.

  She was hidden underground in what must have been a secret den. Ryker had killed the vampires that helped him. She hadn’t seen, heard, or smelled the presence of anyone other than Ryker. Was he on the run? From shifters and the Council because of what he knew?

  If she could believe him, Ryker was clearly on a mission, all alone risking his life to save others. Maybe she could use this to her advantage. If she played her cards right, Ryker’s crusade may serve a twofold process—help save the one person who’d helped her escape the Outlaws and give her the opportunity to escape Ryker.

  If she couldn’t convince Ryker that she could help him, he’d keep her locked up in his underground lair; she’d be a lamb awaiting slaughter and so would anyone caught in the crossfire.

  4

  How the hell could he get information out of someone that didn’t involve torture or maiming? Under usual circumstances, Ryker would have simply asserted his will to get what he wanted. He had no plans to claim Kali, but he couldn’t bring himself to stoop so low as to force his will over hers. Not to mention she possessed a resolve that would rival his own.

  Running his tongue over his canine, he wondered if offering her information been the wrong thing to do? It would only serve to put her in further danger. If his father ever found out she knew of his grand plans to overthrow the Council, destined mate or not, Kali would be slaughtered or farmed as one of the breeders.

  He saw the spark of interest flare in her eyes and his stomach sank. She was going to take the bait. Even though he needed the information, a strong part of him didn’t want to risk his mate to get it. Good heavens, he was a mongrel of the worst kind.

  “I’m interested.”

  The cautious note to her voice told him she hadn’t fully bought his words. Smart. Nevertheless… he shook his head. “Sorry, I’m going to need more than interest for me to give you what I know.”

  Lip curling, Kali huffed out a quick breath. “Fine. We can exchange information on two conditions.”

  He arched a brow and crossed his arms, leaning back against his desk.

  Counting off on her fingers, Kali continued. “One, I’ll need your word that you are trying to free these women and once they are freed, you’ll allow them the choice to define their own future. Two, I’m coming with you.”

  His chest tightened, and he managed to swallow a growl. Just the thought of Kali risking her life caused his heart to palpitate. “Absolutely not. You’ll just slow me down. This is a solo mission.”

  Lips flattening and turning down at the edges, she crossed her arms over her chest, which only drew his attention to the way her breasts flirted with the top of her tank.

  “Fine. No deal.”

  He growled. Like hell he’d have his mate anywhere near some breeding farm. The thought of her falling into the Pit’s clutches stroked the darkness of his beast. Grasping for an excuse to keep Kali locked safely away he leaned on the ruse he’d initially used. “I have orders. I’m to keep you safe.”

  She shrugged.

  Damn stubborn females. Spinning, he paced the length of the desk. His muscles bunched, tension spread across his shoulders and for the first time in what felt like forever his motivation warred with his instincts. The only mission that mattered was to expose his father. Too bad his instinct and his wolf begged to differ.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Agreed.” Unable to bite back the growl that rose, he rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension. “However, I have a condition of my own… You do as I say, Kitty. Every step of the way. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to wait…”

  “Damn it, I’m no feline. I’m more than happy to show you.” She growled exposing her canines. “I know the drill. If you say wait, I wait. I get it.”

  Her lip curled. Certainly all canine. But Kitty suited her. He could tell within ten seconds of meeting her, she was all hellion, a spitfire waiting to scratch the hell out of him—just like a cat. She was definitely his little Kitty.

  His lips tugged upward. Walking forward, he stood closer than what would have been considered polite. It wasn’t something he could control. His wolf craved to be close to Kali and if he were honest, so did he. For one moment, he needed to reassure himself and his wolf that their female was safe.

  “If you’re trying to sweeten me up by flirting, there’s no need. But by all means, remove your clothes and show me how canine you are. As for your deal, as long as you follow my orders, we have ourselves an understanding.”

  He was teasing. By the way her lips pinched, he wasn’t doing a very good job. Her warmth beckoned and promised to chase away the darkness eating him from within. What he wouldn’t do for a taste. The lustful notes of his arousal hung heavy in the air. Her muscles tensed and she took a step back, clearly not interested in him.

  Thankfully, one of them could remain cool. He found it damn annoying that it was her. It was common knowledge that mates were meant to be drawn to one another. Perfect in every way. Why wasn’t Kali feeling an inexplicable pull to him? Shouldn’t she be clawing at his clothes just to get to him?

  Still clutching the candid picture of a wan, used female, Kali stared down at it, a frown pulling at her brows, her action slamming reality back into him.

  She licked her lips, and the paper curled at the edges under her grip. “Tell me what you know.”

  Gut churning, he stole a breath. As much as he wanted to look away, ashamed that his own blood was responsible for something so despicable, he forced his gaze to remain steady. “Some shifters are filled with darkness because time for them is running out and they’re losing the battle with their humanity. With some, darkness is in them because that is who they are; whether it’s a product of their environment or something more… It is used to control, exploit, and manipulate those of us that are more vulnerable.”

  Briefly, he closed his eyes and remembered finding a female chained to a cot, heavily pregnant, her face covered in filth, her gaze looking straight through him. All the while, his father gave him the grand tour as if proud of his accomplishments.

  The echo of his rage circled in his blood. Fighting off the urge to devour his father had been strong. The elaborate set-up and the numerous guards highlighted that it wasn’t some two-bit operation. His father had taken care to ensure the success of his pet project. That was the moment his own mission had been born. Suppressing his instinct may have cost him dearly, but like
his father, he wouldn’t rush into battle only to fail.

  He blew out a shaky breath and opened his eyes. Kali’s brows puckered in question, but she remained silent. “Recently, I came across the knowledge some of our kind have created a breeding farm. It’s known as the Pit. Female shifter’s are stored there and used to reproduce against their will.”

  There. He’d said it.

  Awareness crept over Kali’s face, her features morphing to horror. Shame filled him as if he’d created the Pit with his own hands. It would serve to remind him that he had the blood of real darkness running through his veins and the sooner he was away from Kali, the safer she’d be.

  “A breeding farm?” Kali struggled to spit the words out.

  What kind of monster did such a thing? And how the hell had this been kept under the nose of the all and powerful shifter Council? Was it really surprising? Considering her history, no. Seemed as though she wasn’t the only victim of their negligence.

  Ryker reached down to a set of drawers and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler. “It’s true. I wouldn’t have believed it myself unless I’d seen it with my own eyes.”

  Pouring three fingers of the amber fluid, Ryker tossed it down his throat and followed it with a four-finger chaser. Raising a brow he held out the glass. Odd a captor would show such hospitalities. However, the situation called for a lot more than hard liquor to ease the adrenaline building in her body. Though who was she to kick a gift horse in the mouth and all that?

  “You haven’t reported it to the Council? To other pack Alphas?”

  Taking a hefty swallow, the burn licked at her insides and she welcomed it, used it to fuel the fire of rage scorching through her veins. She’d tasted defeat for years. The Outlaws made sure of it. All her life she’d fought to escape the echoes of her abuse, not fully knowing how to break the shackles. The thought of a hell-hole like a breeding farm existing called her wolf to the surface. Eyes prickling, she knew the iridescent amber glow of her wolf would reveal how much the knowledge impacted her.

  Ryker stared at her, his eyes sparkling like burned coal. Jaw clenching, he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated. I told you the stakes. No one can know. Not yet, anyway.”

  Power was a dangerous weapon. In the wrong hands, deadly. The question wasn’t if Ryker possessed power; his presence pulsed with it. The question was, how would he wield it? Was he the kind of shifter to protect the weak or were his plans a little more sinister?

  Even as she had the thought, her instincts told her that wasn’t the truth. Still, he was clearly capable of bad things. Her predicament was a fine example of that. The halos of the Council would certainly be tarnished if this information leaked to the shifter community. Ryker was right. They would want this kept under wraps to prevent an uprising. So why wouldn’t they swoop in and put an end to such a nightmare?

  “It seems fairly simple to me. Alert the Council, use their resources, take the asshole down. Everyone gets their happy ending.” Or that’s what she was thought should happen when they were doing their jobs.

  Ryker straightened and walked around the desk to riffle through some papers. “If it were only that simple, Kitty. Sometimes, there is no happy ending.”

  She clenched her teeth. Damn that male. If he called her Kitty another time, she’d unleash her claws. Focusing on his words she blew out a breath. No happy endings. Didn’t she know it? Yet, no matter how many times life had dished out an uppercut, a part of her held onto hope that if she only worked hard enough, fought hard enough, one day she’d be able to breathe knowing she was safe.

  Then again, what good did it do to hope? In her experience it resulted in nothing but disappointment. Needing to do something to steer her mind away from its current train of thought, she took another swig of whiskey.

  Ryker cleared his throat. “Intelligence indicates that the Council may be involved.”

  Mid-swallow, the liquor turned to ash in her throat. She spluttered and thumped at her chest. “Jesus!”

  What had their kind become? Of course, she hadn’t thought highly of the Council, but this… this was something else. If their so-called leaders were involved in such a thing, then they were in some deep trouble.

  While Ryker busied himself laying out a map, Kali took the time to look at him. He reached over and grabbed a pen from the top of the pile of papers and began drawing on the map. Muscles rippled along his arm with each angry stroke of the ink. The smooth plains of his skin dipped into valleys with each contoured muscle. His angular jaw pulsed under the dusting of dark whiskers, and it only enhanced the air of danger around him. Logic told her he was fierce, strong, and more than a little dangerous.

  Her wolf appreciated that and couldn’t help but notice what a fine male specimen he was. Not that it mattered. Monsters were often wrapped in pretty packaging—easier to lull their victims into a false sense of security. She would do well to remember that. As if sensing her appraisal, Ryker looked up to meet her gaze. “I need that information, Kali. I’m really not the bad guy here.”

  This seemed to be so much bigger than just Ryker. How could one man—albeit a strong and formidable force—expect to take on something so big and win? It seemed impossible.

  “Do you believe you can win this on your own?”

  “Not if you don’t give me the information I need.”

  Arrogant male. Of course he would think he could take down an army on his own. Blowing out a breath, she walked forward and placed the bottle back on the desk. A slither of doubt made her pause. If life had taught her anything it was to trust no one, yet oddly, her instincts said she could trust Ryker. At least with this. Her eyes darted to the lineup of females on the wall and she braced her arms on the desk. “Her name is Gracie Miller.”

  Ryker‘s attention shot up, his fierce gaze directed straight at her. “Gracie Miller.”

  Anticipation sizzled through the air, his energy arcing to make her arm hair stand on end.

  Nodding, Ryker reached down, opened a drawer, and pulled out a laptop. “You have no idea the impact this will have on the investigation and exposing those responsible. All right, now which pack is Gracie from? If I can back track her roots, it’ll make it easier to determine if there’s been a Council cover-up in her reported disappearance.”

  Pack? The Outlaws didn’t give a damn about pack and territories. It didn’t matter who you were taking from as long as you got what you wanted. Tongue swiping out, she licked her bottom lip. “I… I’m not sure what pack she belonged to.”

  Ryker paused typing and turned to face her, his brows pinched. “I thought you said you know this female?”

  Yeah, she knew Gracie, but she didn’t know her. It’s not like her life catered to privileges like friends. Fact was, for whatever reason, Gracie had saved her life. Now it was her turn to return the favor. Kali kicked her chin up a notch. “I can show you on the map.”

  Looking at the map, her attention shot to the circle around Twin Falls and Alaska. Not sure of their importance she thought it best to take a mental note of the locations. Biting back her emotions, she let the memories of that night wash over her. Jefferson had been on a rampage to make some kind of payment to another pack—or that’s the story he’d told them—so the Outlaws had been hungry. An insatiable hunger for money, booze, and power.

  It had been the catalyst that led to her freedom. She shook her head and smoothed out the map, trailing her finger along the state line. “We’d started at some shady bar just outside of Ashland in Montana.”

  “We?”

  Hesitating, she lifted her gaze, but kept her head tilted toward the map. Damn slip of her tongue. There would be no reminiscing with Ryker about her past. Not now, not ever. She could barely stomach the things she’d done, let alone the thought of having someone else judge her for what she’d needed to do to survive. “The shifters I was with.” She refused to call them pack. Pack represented good things; loyalty, support, family. All things the Outlaws weren’t. “S
et out on a hunt.”

  They’d done it often. Jefferson had thought the pack to be mercenaries. The ones called when you needed a job done. What that job was varied according to the highest bidder. She thought back, trying to remember what they’d been hunting. Her status was too low to be kept in the know. Her job kicked in once the hunt narrowed in on their designated prey. All she had to do was make an appearance and lead the prey right into the Outlaws’ trap. If she failed, Jefferson peeled the skin from her body. Her body shuddered, and she blew out a breath, trying to ignore the memories.

  She ran her finger along US-16. Belle Creek caught her gaze on the map and her trail slowed. Brows puckering, she remembered stopping there. It was such a random stop on the outskirts to nowhere that Jefferson insisted on taking. The picture of the female with the crescent moon birthmark flickered in her memory banks, the woman’s name hovering in the mist of her mind.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head and quickly dragged her finger down the highway, benching her thoughts. “There.” She tapped her finger on the map. “I met Gracie in Keystone. Past the town limits and deep into the hills.”

  Dread snapped at her insides, growing until it clenched firmly around her stomach, the sensation fanning out to course along her body. She glanced up at the picture of the female with the crescent birthmark, her dark hair matted and covered in filth and her eyes begging for a lifeline.

  Ryker word’s faded to white noise, and her brain strained to remember. As if the information had been shot into her, she jolted with the realization she knew another female in Ryker’s lineup. She’d been the owner of a bed and breakfast where Kali had sought shelter hours after she’d fled.

  Was it some weird coincidence she knew not one but two victims? Or was it the beginning of a pattern?