Frostbitten

FOCUS

AND SO, OVER breakfast, the goal of our mission to Alaska shifted yet again. We came here to rescue a young werewolf from a pair of killer mutts. We stayed to investigate another killer. And now, while those deaths were still an issue, our focus had come full circle to rescuing another young werewolf from another pair of killer mutts.

And this one was… I hesitate to say "family," because it sounds so hokey. I suppose it's human nature to value personal ties, however tenuous, over anonymity. But this was about wolf nature. To me, rescuing Noah was more important than making sure more humans didn't die. I suppose that's a necessary instinct for a future Alpha to have, but it didn't keep me from feeling guilty.

WE SPENT THE rest of the morning in our room where we could talk more openly with Joey and piece together our stories. He'd already taken us up to the point of getting the call from Tesler, who claimed to have both Noah and Dennis. That was the only time Joey had spoken to his son since his capture, and it had been a brief exchange, one Joey could recite verbatim.

Joey: Are you okay?

Noah: Yeah.

Joey: Did they hurt you? Are you-?

Noah: I'm okay, all right?

Joey: I'm going to get you out of there.

Noah: Think so?

Joey: I will. I promise. How's Dennis? Is he okay?

Joey wasn't sure whether Noah tried to say something or just made a noise, but before he could ask again, Tesler took the phone back.

Then Tesler laid out his demands. He didn't want much-just everything Joey had. He'd start by accepting fifty thousand dollars as a gesture of goodwill. Then Joey would use his local reputation and contacts to fix some unspecified "problems." Once that was cleared up, Joey would take his father and son and leave Alaska… after signing over his car, his condo and his dad's cabin to the Teslers.

Joey had scraped together a down payment on the fifty grand. The rest he'd get from liquidating his retirement funds. He was supposed to meet Tesler yesterday morning. That's when we'd intercepted him at work. His meeting with the Teslers hadn't been until lunch, but Joey feared they were watching, so he'd brushed Clay off. His instinct had been right and the gang had then followed our trail back to our hotel and had their fun there while we were out.

After our encounter with the Teslers, and Dan's presumed death, Eddie had called Joey back with a new demand. Get rid of us or all negotiations were off.

WE GOT EVERYTHING we could from Joey. It took a while, and by the end of it, he was exhausted by the constant questions. He took a rest while Clay headed outside to scout for any sign of the mutts, and I went to a quiet place downstairs and made phone calls.

I started with Jeremy, updating him and getting his opinion. Then I spoke to the kids. Their patience with their gallivanting parents was again growing thin. They wanted us home. And, talking to them, I wanted to be home. So I kept it short with promises that both Daddy and I would call again before bed and talk to them more.

Next I called Nick. Again, I began with an update.

"Sounds like you two might need some help," he said when I finished.

"We're considering it," I said. "Jaime is staying longer at Stonehaven, in case Jeremy needs to take off, and Jeremy's told Karl to be ready to fly. For now, though, just keep your schedule clear. We don't want to spook these guys by having the whole Pack descend on Anchorage."

"Or they might decide to cut their losses with their hostage."

"Exactly."

"So you think he's still alive? Joey's boy?"

"Joey hasn't heard from him in two days. I can only hope they want the ransom too badly to risk killing him."

"I'm still finding it hard to believe Joey has a teenage son. He's old enough-it's just hard to picture Joey as a middle-aged guy. I picture the kid who left our place twenty-five years ago. It sounds like he's changed, though-and not just his age."

"Clay says so."

A moment of silence.

"Speaking of young werewolves," I said. "How's Reese settling in?"

"Good so far. You were right about giving him chores. I didn't want to-with his hand and all-but Antonio figured you had a point, and gave him some work to do on the grounds, early spring cleanup. That really helped. Reese has stopped eyeing the door, ready to make a break for it."

"Paying his dues. He'll be happier with that. So how is it going otherwise? You seemed nervous about having him there."

"We're being careful. We're not about to give a stranger full run of the house, not when he could obviously use a few bucks. I've been working from home, so someone's always with him, but he hasn't given us any reason to worry. I even thought I'd take him out tonight. Got a party. He might like that. Get his mind off things."

"Next thing you know, you'll be lining up double dates."

"I've already got one for Saturday. Oh, did you mean give him one of my dates? I don't like the kid that much. But I'm hoping the party will cheer him up."

"Is he depressed about his hand?"

"He's not thrilled about it, but there's more. Have you got a dossier on him?"

"A very thin one. He only hit our radar after the problems with Liam and Ramon. All I know is that he's from Australia. Or New Zealand. I never did quite pin it down. Why?"

"I'm trying to figure the kid out. He's been asking me and Antonio about the rules for mutts-where they can live, whether they can get a job, how long they can stay in one city. If we mention the possibility of him going home, he shuts down."

"Something happened. I know that, but I have no idea what. It could be that he killed someone or came close. It seems more personal, though."

"No, I agree. He does mention his family, parents."

"His father, you mean?"

"No, I'm pretty sure both parents are in the picture."

Reese wasn't a bitten werewolf, so to hear that he may have grown up with both parents was a surprise. That's rare enough that I'd only heard of one case in the United States-a mutt with a wife and kids-but he stayed so far under our radar that I'd never been able to confirm the story.

"You think it has something to do with his family, then?" I asked.

"I have a hunch it does. I'll keep fishing."

"Be careful. He's skittish enough. Push and-"

"He'll bolt. I know. I'll take it slow, but I think it's important. The kid wants to open up. I'll work on it, at least until you need me there."

AFTER JOEY WOKE up, we spent the afternoon with maps spread over our hotel bed, marking the locations of Dennis's cabin and the kill sites, trying to narrow down where we might find the Teslers.

That was our best hope: corner them in their lair. We could let them come to us, and I'm sure they would, but for now they seemed to have gone to ground, maybe waiting to see whether Joey would get rid of us. If he didn't, they'd hurt Noah, to prove they would. We had to find them first.

JOEY SEEMED AMBIVALENT about joining us, but when we gave him the option of staying behind, he said he needed to come, though he might not be much help in a fight.

"An extra pair of eyes and ears," Clay said. "Still useful."

Joey picked up dinner. I'd suggested we go out, having been cooped up inside all day. But Joey knew Clay would be happier eating in his room. He'd brought back Malaysian. It was one ethnic food I wasn't familiar with, and it wasn't quite to my taste. I like spicy, but this was too spicy to enjoy. For Clay, food is fuel, and he made sure his tank was full for the night ahead.

"So Karl Marsten is a Pack member now?" Joey said. "How hard up are you guys for new blood?"

Clay rolled his eyes, and stuffed a curry-sauce-drenched boiled egg into his mouth.

"Not that I know the guy," Joey said. "But even when we left the Pack, he had a reputation, and he wasn't more than a couple of years older than me. A thief, wasn't he? And a ruthless SOB, if I remember right. Killed mutts who came on his territory, ignoring the fact that non-Pack werewolves can't hold territory."

"Which, ultimately, became an issue," I said. "He wanted territory and had to join the Pack to get it."

"And you let him in?"

I shrugged. "Ruthless is good if it's on your side. He's not the most committed Pack member, but he'll be here if Jeremy calls. And if he doesn't jump fast enough, his girlfriend will give him a shove. She thinks the Pack is good for him, and he gives us a hundred percent to please her."

"His girlfriend knows he's a werewolf?"

"She's a half-demon."

"Half… Shit." He shook his head. "Dad said the Pack had gotten involved with other supernaturals but… " Another shake of his head. "Dad wanted to know all about it. Fascinated. I'd rather just leave my world at werewolves. That was another issue we didn't agree on." He went quiet for a minute, then shook it off. "So Karl Marsten, huh? Didn't Malcolm kill his father?"

I glanced at Clay.

"Wouldn't surprise me," he said. "But I never heard that."

"I did, back when we were with the Pack. You and Nick had gone someplace, and I had to hang out with the Santos boys. Malcolm was there with their dad and uncle, and they were talking about it, how Malcolm had killed Josef Marsten. Raymond was razzing Malcolm because the boy got away on him."

"Karl?"

"I presume so."

I'd never heard that, certainly not from Karl. It might explain some of his reluctance to commit himself to the Pack, taking orders from a man whose father had killed his own. I'd have to talk to him about it.

"So you've got two kids, right?" Joey said. "Twins?"

I nodded. "A boy and a girl. Three and a half."

"Planning to have more?"

"Right now, two is enough."

Clay nodded as he tore a bite off a giant prawn. "Got too much else going on. Two is good. We can give them all the at-att-enshun… " Clay stumbled over the word, slurring it.

I looked over sharply. He blinked hard, as if struggling to keep his eyes open.

"I guess I'm not the only one who should have had a nap this afternoon," Joey said.

Clay kept blinking, as if he hadn't heard Joey. He frowned, annoyed, and rubbed his hand over his face.

I touched his arm. "Are you okay?"

"He looks ready to crash," Joey said with a laugh. "Too little sleep and too much food. Guess I should have grabbed espresso instead of Cokes. Why don't you go lie-?"

"You, you bas-" The word fell away in a slurred jumble. Clay gripped the table, pushing himself up.

"Clay?" I said. "What-?"

He fell forward. I lunged for him, but he caught himself at the last second, holding the table, swaying, still trying to focus. Joey had stumbled back, out of his way.

"You son… " Clay slurred the rest. His head wobbled, eyes trying to find Joey. "If you hurt her, I swear, I'll hunt you down and-"

He collapsed into my arms. I lowered him to the floor, frantically checking his pulse, finding it strong, then spinning on Joey.

"What did you-?"

Joey wasn't in his chair. As I turned, I felt a prick on the back of my arm.

I wheeled, fists flying up, hitting Joey's outstretched hand. A syringe fell to the floor. I stared at it, my brain swimming, knees buck ling.

"I'm sorry," Joey said.

I crashed to the floor.