Page 26

SOMETHING WAS wrong.

Caius woke before dawn as usual, with a pit of dread in his stomach that he knew well. During his years of service, he’d learned to trust his instincts, and his instincts were currently screaming at him that his pack was in danger.

He headed downstairs and across the den, lingering at the second set of stairs leading to Quinn’s lair as he breathed in. He smelled Quinn and Max, and the lingering scent of Lukas. And sex.

The dread lessened a bit at knowing at least those two were safe and where they belonged. Lukas was routinely called away for missions, but this felt different, a shiver of unease along his nerves that only worsened when his phone rang.

The name of Lukas’ CO flashed on the screen.

“Ward,” he answered.

“Colonel,” Adams said, tension in his voice.

“What happened?” He didn’t appreciate the sigh or the long pause before Adams responded.

“At 0530, we lost contact with Corporal Hunt’s plane over the Pacific.”

Caius didn’t hear much after that. Adams’ words became muffled white noise for an eternal moment.

Lukas wasn’t dead. He knew that much at the very least, thanks to their pack bond, but he could very well be dying, and Caius wouldn’t know until that tenuous bond snapped and disappeared.

Someone shouted his name and he blinked, finding Quinn’s hazel eyes an inch from his own. Quinn’s wrist pressed against his neck, the subtle scent of cinnamon and pack warm between them.

He grasped Quinn’s wrist and breathed deep, grounding himself in the here, in pack.

The phone was still in his hand, but the call had disconnected at some point.

He couldn’t blame Adams for that; he’d been on the other end of those phone calls before, when he’d lost men in the line of duty.

He’d hoped to never be on the receiving end.

“What’s going on?” Max asked, standing by the table, arms wrapped around himself .

Caius instinctively reached for him, relieved when Max sat beside him.

“Lukas was called for a mission last night.” He hesitated to say more, wishing modern pack bonds were strong enough to give more information than alive or dead and a general sense of direction.

Maybe they had offered more centuries ago, but whatever magic was inherent in them had faded with time.

Or maybe was lost with the advent of technology.

“His plane went down.” The sound Max made threatened to rip his chest in two, but he kept most of his attention on Quinn, wincing at the bite of nails on the back of his neck.

“He’s not dead,” Quinn said, desperation in his voice.

“No.” Caius moved his grip to Quinn’s neck in return. “He’s alive.”

Quinn let out a shuddering breath and grabbed Caius’ phone without pulling away. He dialed Lukas’ number, but the phone went straight to voicemail.

“How do you know he’s alive?” Max asked, pressing into Caius’ side.

“The pack bond is still there.”

“I thought that was something Hollywood made up.”

Ironically, that was one of the few things they got right.

The fifth time Quinn dialed into Lukas’ voicemail, Caius gently took the phone back and disconnected the call.

“We’ll find him,” he said. He didn’t believe this was a random accident.

Technology might fail them at times, but magic was more than enough to supplement and protect against a military plane going down outside of battle.

The Order was behind this somehow, which meant they’d dug their poisonous claws into the US government or military far deeper than he’d ever anticipated.

Quinn finally let go and stood. “I’m going to try tracking his phone.”

Caius nodded, waiting until Quinn disappeared downstairs before turning to Max.

“How can I help?”

“I don’t know yet.” Caius pulled him closer, breathing in his scent, the mix of Lukas and Quinn beneath it.

It should have irritated him, but if anything, it grounded him further.

“I need to make some calls.” He had a few contacts he could still trust to tell him what they knew, even if he was technically a civilian now.

“I’ll make breakfast. ”

“Thank you.” He pressed a quick kiss to Max’s lips before heading to his office.

He sank into his chair with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, focusing on breathing through the panic and fear and anger trying to claw its way up his throat.

He’d known this could happen the moment he decided to claim a newly Sparked mage, but he hadn’t expected what Max would come to mean to him or his pack.

The three of them had worked well together from the beginning, shifters isolated or exiled from their original packs, grabbing on to the first life raft they could find.

Max was no different. Once he’d started to believe he was safe here, he’d drawn the rest of them even closer together. Knowing Max had finally brought Lukas and Quinn together was a miracle; Caius had started to despair they’d ever get their heads out of their asses.

He couldn’t let that all be in vain. Losing even one of them would tear his pack apart.

Lukas was alive. He was well trained, in his prime, healthy. If he survived the initial crash, there was a chance he’d survive until the coast guard or a rescue op found him.

He had to believe that.

With a deep breath, Caius pulled up a contact he never thought he’d use again. The name Charlie Savage flashed on his screen, the number ringing three times before a woman answered.

“Savage.”

“It’s Ward.”

A brief pause, then, “Calling for business or pleasure?”

“It’s personal. I need a favor.”

A low whistle followed that. “Five years and you call asking for a favor.”

He’d expected annoyance, but she sounded amused.

“Never did learn to pull your punches.”

“You never asked me to.”

Charlie snorted. “And you’re still a dick. What do you need, Cai?”

“I need to know about the plane that went down over the Pacific this morning.”

“What?” she snapped. There was a sound like her phone clattered to a table, and then the sound of furious typing.

“It should have left Buckley around one or two this morning. ”

After a few tense moments, she hissed. “A fucking Nighthawk went down.” More typing. “Pilot Wren Taylor and Corporal Lukas Hunt. These boys yours?”

“Lukas is pack.”

She hummed but didn’t ask for details. “Doesn’t look like an attack…. There’s no mission file attached to this flight. Cai, what the fuck is this?”

“Fuck,” he breathed, pinching his nose again. “Can you see who authorized it?”

After another few moments, she swore. “General Graves.”

“Rhys Graves?” Caius had met the man only once, and that’d been more than enough. He couldn’t say exactly what about the man raised his hackles, but surely that didn’t mean Graves was willing to murder his own men. That was something the Order was rumored to do.

“It’s being listed as faulty wiring,” she said, incredulous.

“No chance of it being true?”

Charlie scoffed. “These new models are more secure than Air Force One. Even if it was the wiring, the spellwork should have kept it from crashing.”

“Sabotage?” Even as he asked, he knew it was true; he just hadn’t wanted to believe the Order could orchestrate something so far outside their jurisdiction. If one of their highest ranks was compromised, how far did the Order’s reach truly go?

“What the hell did you get caught up in, Caius?”

He considered telling her the truth, but the less she knew, the safer she’d be. “I’m handling it.”

“Right,” she said, her tone dripping derision. “That lone wolf thing is gonna get you killed someday.”

“Not today.” He hoped, anyway.

“Right. If you live, maybe we can catch up over drinks.”

Despite how long it’d been since they’d spoken, Caius was tempted. If not for Max, he might have accepted outright. As it was, he hesitated too long.

“As friends,” she added dryly. “Or maybe as a double date?”

“You’re seeing someone?”

“I’m engaged, you ass.”

“Congratulations. ”

Charlie’s eye roll was audible. “God, how did I put up with you? If you get yourself killed doing something stupid, I’ll find a necro to raise your sorry ass.”

Caius sank into his chair, a smile tugging at his lips. “Necros don’t exist.”

“Fine, die and stay dead, then.”

He laughed despite himself. “I think I remember why I stopped calling.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, you love me.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. They’d been good together. They might have even worked out if they’d met a few years earlier than they had, but it’d been the wrong time for both of them. He was thankful they’d both agreed on that.

When she spoke again, her voice was softer. “I’m serious about the drinks, Cai. It would be nice to see you again.”

“I’d like that,” he said, clearing his throat as he straightened. “I’ll call you when I’ve taken care of this mess.”

Once they’d hung up, he debated reaching out to any of his other contacts, but he doubted they would have any new information. If anyone actually knew anything, it was going to be Adams. He knew Lukas trusted him, but Caius had never met the man.

He stepped into the kitchen and hooked an arm around Max’s shoulders, burying his nose in the mage’s neck and his claiming mark and breathing in his scent.

“Everything okay?”

“No,” he murmured before he could stop himself. He refused to lie to his pack, but he didn’t want to worry Max about something he could do nothing about. At least not yet. Something was happening, but nothing made sense.

A fire mage Sparking in his twenties wasn’t worth all this trouble.

At least not for the Order. They preferred children they could mold into their perfect magical soldiers.

He could understand Savino wanting his son back for the sheer power.

And the war no doubt brewing in the underworld as every faction, big or small, planned to make a grab for Max.

But none of them should have the ear of a general.

Caius sighed and pressed a lingering kiss to Max’s temple. “We’ll figure it out. ”

Max leaned his weight into him. “You’re really sure he’s still alive?”

“Yes.” He had no doubt about that and didn’t hesitate to answer. “He’s alive. We just need to find him.”

Max nodded and straightened, and Caius was equally relieved and surprised that, despite the hint of worry, his scent remained calm.

He left Max to his cooking and didn’t dare comment on the rubbery look of the scrambled eggs. Maybe Quinn was onto something about hiring a cook, but at this point, he couldn’t trust a stranger that close to the heart of his pack.

He descended the stairs to find Quinn furiously typing at his computers, screens of maps with geographical overlays, and footage of road and highway cameras flicking across the screens. “Any luck?”

Quinn snarled. “No.”

Caius stood behind him and watched in silence for a few moments, until Quinn shot him a look, his scent thick with frustration. “Can you open a secure line to Adams?”

Quinn sighed and opened a new screen. A few moments later, the call went out. When it connected, Adams didn’t say anything, likely because it was an unknown number.

“This is Ward.”

“Still no news, Colonel.”

“Did you know this order came down from General Graves?”

The only sound on the other end was the heavy tread of boots for a drawn-out minute, until they were muffled by carpet and a door swung shut. There was a familiar burst of quiet static as a privacy spell activated. “Yes, I saw the signature,” Adams finally said.

“Is the Order behind this?”

The silence was telling. “I can’t confirm anything.”

Caius forced out a calming breath while grinding his teeth. “Did you knowingly send Lukas on a bogus mission to die?”

“Of course not,” Adams snapped. “I warned him as best I could and sent someone to help, but I haven’t heard back yet.”

Quinn scoffed but held his tongue.

“Who?”

Adams sighed. “Ghost.”

Fucking hell. Lukas was as likely to end up dead thanks to that maniacal pixie as if he’d been on the plane. “What did you promise her?”

“An unsanctioned mission to take out her creator. ”

“And who is that?” There were rumors that the Ghost was decades older than she appeared, but her file wasn’t just top secret; it didn’t seem to actually exist. He knew. He’d looked.

“Helga Fuchs.”

Caius looked at Quinn to find him already typing away. The screen that popped up a few moments later showed an elderly woman well into her eighties or nineties. Her information listed her as one-hundred-one.

“You put a hit out on someone’s grandma?” Quinn muttered, incredulous.

“She was rumored to be a Nazi scientist. When the Order refused to sanction her experiments after the war, she vanished. Popped up again about forty years ago, shortly after Ghost was found.”

“If Lukas is involved in murdering—” Caius started with a growl, but Adams cut him off.

“He won’t be.”

Caius growled again, low in his throat. He knew Adams would do what he could to protect Lukas, but he also knew if there was even a whiff of Lukas being involved, it would be included in a report somewhere, even if it wasn’t official.

As much as he believed in serving his country, he knew how deep and dark that service could pull someone, and he wasn’t going to let that happen to anyone in his pack.

But that was something to be dealt with after they found Lukas.

“Does General Rhys Graves have ties to the Order?” he asked, ignoring the sharp look Quinn gave him as he listened to the silence on the other end of the phone.

Finally, Adams said, “I can’t confirm anything.”

Which was all the confirmation Caius needed. “Please keep me apprised.”

“Of course.”

Once Quinn disconnected the call, Caius let out a slow breath, but before he could think of possible next steps, Quinn swiveled his chair towards the stairs and sniffed.

“Something is burning.”

Caius’ heart lurched as he smelled burning bacon. He dashed up the stairs, sure it was another kitchen SNAFU, but when he reached the kitchen, the pan with bacon was charred black, and there was no sign of Max.