Kiera’s smile was sharp, but Stacy felt better for saying something. The sidhe fae checked her array of poisons after her knives were ready, then seemed to think of something. “I need to check the kitchen before we go.”
“Food? Now?” Stacy asked, following Kiera upstairs.
“Just some ingredients I need,” the fae woman replied lightly as she rummaged in drawers and cabinets.
Stacy didn’t ask Kiera to elaborate. Fifteen minutes later, the team assembled outside, prepared to depart. Rowan and Miles were busy putting their things into the van while Kiera investigated a holding place none of them had noticed before. She shot a look at Stacy. “Did you know there are hidden weapons back here?”
Stacy rounded the van, and a secret compartment opened to reveal a row of guns, crossbows, and ammo.
Miles whistled. “How the hell did you miss these before?”
Stacy shook her head. “I have to get Dad’s personal car salesman on the line.”
Rowan chuckled, commenting that he thought Khan was his own personal car salesman. Stacy said this was quite possible. After loading up, she added, “This van can hold at least three more people.”
Rowan glanced around. “I’ll look into it. We could always use more team members.”
Kiera groaned. “Not soon, please. I was starting to get used to being part of this one.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Victor stood at his desk, rifling through papers. He glanced up when the door swung open with an unceremonious bang. He recognized the werewolf sauntering in. He didn’t appreciate the irreverence, but at least he was here. “Fucking finally,” he snapped.
Garth, his most trusted lieutenant and the strongest warrior he had, normally wore a broad, grisly smile. This morning, he was grim-faced. His steel gray eyes swept through the office, then landed on the man behind the desk, narrowing slightly. Garth always posed casually, but a gleam in his eyes told the boss he had questions. He’d been taken off a mission, and he wanted to know why.
Victor surveyed the wolf’s attire. The leathers and plated armor he wore, the guns holstered at his sides, and the fur bristling along his skin, though he was not fully in wolf form. Garth was taller than Victor and had the broad chest and shoulders of a seasoned fighter.
“Why didn’t you find Voss?” Victor asked coolly.
Garth grunted. “Hello to you, too, Vic. I’ve had a great journey, thank you for asking.”
Victor glared at the use of the shorter name.
Garth dropped into an armchair despite the filth caking his clothes and skin. “I was hot on her trail in Istanbul when you told me to come back. Voss has been hiding for most of her life. The bitch was always going to take a long-ass time to find.” He fluttered a hand, and Victor noticed the edges of his claws poking through his knuckles. “Alas, you’ve called me here, and I came. Tell me about this witch problem you’ve been dealing with.”
Garth had heard things about Stacy regarding Leonard Dolos but had not been put on the job before. He had more important tasks to handle, like Project Pack 013. Since Voss’ disappearance, he’d been out of the country.
Victor half-wondered if Garth had spent his time ambling around ancient cities, drinking whatever the hell he wanted and getting into whichever beds he pleased. In the end, he knew Garth was the only one who could find Voss. He was the most skilled hunter and tracker, and he was the only person as angry as Victor that the vampire had vanished.
Once, Garth, Vaughan, and Voss had been an inseparable trio with both males vying for Voss’ affection. The vampire was perhaps the least affectionate person Victor had ever met. Now that Vaughan was out of the way, Garth had an opening with her. He hadn’t found her, though, so it didn’t matter.
Victor brought his lieutenant up to speed, detailing everything that occurred since Lenny’s death. Though he didn’t say it, Garth knew Victor had been the one to put a bullet through the former attorney’s head.
“Are we sure she’s only a witch?” the werewolf asked after Victor finished. He popped open a bottle of whiskey and served himself a full glass.
“That’s what I would like to find out. It was the reason I wanted to meet her face-to-face.”
Garth swirled the liquid in his glass before drinking. “I have a hard time believing someone as capable as her of being only a witch. If she is, she’s a damn powerful one.”
“She’s not as capable as you think, Garth.” Victor’s voice was nearly a growl.
Garth raised a brow. “That’s not what it sounded like when you were bitching about all her exploits a minute ago.”
Victor was ready to flip the table on his lieutenant. The only thing holding him back was his need for Garth’s skill. He didn’t know a better fighter or werewolf. Garth had led Project Pack 013’s development, given insight into how a powerful werewolf’s body operated.
Unlike normal werewolves, Garth was able to help them create something that could remain in wolf form despite the day or time. These creatures were bigger, stronger, and had more enhanced senses. If they worked as Victor hoped, they’d become killing machines.
The project proved to the Titan that Garth was more than a brute commander. He was smart as fuck. Victor needed his intelligence and the authority he exuded over the other packs.
“My defenses are impenetrable,” Victor went on, ignoring Garth’s last point with forced nonchalance. “As it stands, the Project will serve as both the perfect bait and doom for Stacy. We want her on these grounds.”
“We don’t want her to win, though,” Garth drawled. “We have to think about the unpredictability of magic, and we run the risk of underestimating the witch. You said it yourself. We don’t know if she is only a witch. What if there’s something about her we’re unaware of?”
“You don’t think the Project could take care of any surprises?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Garth shrugged anyway. “You never know.” He finished his whiskey.
Victor turned to the window, fury boiling within him. His mind raced with possibilities. Garth always had a way of poking holes in his plans. Victor had to remind himself this was a good thing. Garth saw the holes and patched them, allowing Victor to succeed in his operations.
“You might consider going about this another way,” the wolf spoke up. “However this ends, someone will look like the bad guy. This sort of shit will get out to the public whether you want it to or not. Why not make the witch the bad guy and save yourself the trouble of public backlash and cover-up? She will be the one attacking private property if what you say will happen does. Arresting her might not be a bad idea.”
Victor considered this, then nodded. “You’re onto something, Garth.”
The werewolf smiled in a way that would have had little kids screaming and adults shitting their pants. His canines gleamed. “Good thing you called me, Vic.”
Victor didn’t have it in him to glare or threaten Garth if he called him by that nickname again. His mind was already figuring out what to do next. He picked up the phone, intent on calling his old friend John Turnbower again. The issue with Greentree was dealt with and covered up. Time to ask old Turnbower for another favor.
And if he doesn’t agree? a voice in Victor’s mind demanded.
