Moon Sworn (Riley Jenson Guardian #9)(46)

West shrugged. “He challenged for the lead. I guess since he was mated to the pack leader’s eldest daughter, they allowed it.”
Then they were fools. “So what, exactly, did he ask you to do?”
“He told me he needed to get a troublesome wolf out of the way for a week or so. He asked me to keep on eye on both her and her brother, and to report back anything and everything they did.”
“Did he tell you why?”
West shook his head. “He just said you were causing serious trouble within the pack, and he needed you out of the way while he calmed things down.” He hesitated. “I asked how the hell I was supposed to even keep you here, and he said that wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Because I was being drugged and I had my memory tampered with.”
“He didn’t tell me that. He said it was Evin’s job to keep you calm.”
“But surely to God you suspected something was up?” Harris said, frustration edging into his normally smooth tones. “You’re a good cop, Mike. You had to have to have been a little suspicious.”
“I’ve known Tyson for years. We went through training together—although he washed out during the last few weeks.” West shrugged. “I had no reason not to trust what he was telling me. Not initially.”
“And yet you didn’t send through Harris’s request for information about me to the Directorate. Was that at Tyson’s order?”
He hesitated. “It wasn’t an order.”
Order or not, it wasn’t right and he knew it. “Did he say why?”
West took a sip of coffee, then shrugged again. “He asked me to delay it a day or so, that’s all. When I asked why, he begged off, saying it was related to the mess he was trying to sort out.”
“And this didn’t raise your alarms?”
“Of course it did. That’s why I was keeping an even closer eye on you. And how I knew that damn fool Denny was up to something.” He hesitated. “I did go out to the whaling station to rescue you. I wasn’t involved with that idiot’s plans in any way, shape, or form.”
“So why did you keep driving toward the whaling station when we passed you on the road?” Evin asked.
West frowned. “I didn’t see—” He hesitated, and snorted. “You were in Grant’s truck. That’s why he was so pissed off.”
“Shame we didn’t actually wreck the truck,” Evin murmured. “The bastard certainly deserves it.”
I smiled. Evin might not be blood kin, but he certainly thought like us. “How do you contact Tyson?”
“He phones me.”
“Home or cell?”
“Cell. Every night at ten.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Even tonight?”
“Yeah. He was furious when I told him that Denny had snatched Evin and was holding him hostage against your appearance.”
“So you also went out there because he ordered you to?”
Anger flashed through his expression. “As I said, I went out there because I’m a cop and it’s my duty to stop him. No one told me to do anything.”
But the fact that his duty and Tyson’s orders coincided wouldn’t have hurt.
“Is Tyson the only contact you’ve had?”
“Yes.”
“What number does he phone from?”
“I don’t know. The number is always blocked.”
I gave him a disbelieving look. “You’re a cop, and you’re trying to tell me that didn’t bother you? When this man is your friend?”He smiled thinly and reeled off a number. “It’s a Northern Territory number. Tyson’s pack is in Queensland.”
I glanced at Evin, who shook his head. “The number I phone is a Melbourne one.”
“So we have Tyson in the Northern Territory and the people holding your mate hostage in Melbourne. Meaning Tyson’s not alone in this.”
“We all knew that from the beginning,” Quinn commented. “Just as we all know who is behind this.”
I glanced at him. “We can’t move until we’ve rescued Evin’s mate. And a little concrete proof would be nice, too.” Certainly it’ll make it easier for Jack to issue a retribution order.
Or a death order.
Something within me shivered. I really didn’t want Blake dead, no matter what he’d done, but I might not have that choice anymore. I’d given him one chance already, and he’d thrown it back in my face.
And I had no doubt he’d keep at me until he achieved his aim: my death, and maybe even Rhoan’s.
We had a pack of our own to consider—we had a child on the way. It went beyond my and Rhoan’s safety now.
“We have two choices, then.” Quinn’s face was still impassive, but the sense of menace brewed like a storm around him. “We go after Tyson, or we hunt down those who have Evin’s mate.”
“If we go after Tyson, the game is up. Besides, such a move would only endanger Lyndal—Evin’s mate,” I said.
“Then we do a trace on the number Evin calls, and hit them before tomorrow night.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Jack wants us to solve the other case first.”
“You’re not the only guardian he has, Riley. Blake—and whoever else is behind this—needs to be stopped immediately. Otherwise, next time they might just settle for an assassin’s bullet.”
And as he’d already said, Jack didn’t want me dead.
I glanced at West. “Do you know if Tyson has any other spies in this town?”
West shook his head. “Not that I know of. Besides, it’d be overkill.”
If it meant their plans for my eventual end ran smoothly, I had no doubt that both Tyson and Blake would employ as much overkill as they thought necessary.
“Then you need to keep playing the game. Report on time, and don’t give anything away.”
West didn’t look happy, but I was betting he was smart enough to know he had little choice in the matter. “And if I do?”
“Then maybe you get to keep your job.”
As I spoke, a sliver of energy spun through the air. West blinked and his eyes went briefly lifeless—although if you weren’t watching him carefully, you wouldn’t even have noticed it. 
What did you do? I asked, without looking at Quinn.
Just applied a little insurance. He won’t be able to warn Tyson even if he wanted to.
Good. I glanced at Harris. “I need to use your computer.”
He nodded and rose, walking across to a desk in the far corner of the room. I followed him across, watching as he typed in his ID and had his iris scanned.
“Okay,” he said, stepping back. “You’re ready to go.”
“Thanks.” I sat in the chair and scooted forward. A few key taps, several passwords, and an iris scan later, I was into the Directorate’s database. “What was that number again, Evin?”
He repeated it. I typed it in then hit SEARCH. As I waited for the results, I glanced up at Quinn. “How soon can your plane be ready to leave?”
“Turnaround is usually an hour.” He glanced at his watch. “We could be gone in twenty-five minutes, if need be.”
“Want to warn them, then?”
He smiled. “Already have. The pilot is telepathic.”
“Handy.” I glanced down as the search results flickered up on the screen. The number was listed as belonging to a house in Mickleham, which was an outlying area of Melbourne rather than one of the recognized suburbs, and made up of small farming subdivisions rather than high-density housing estates. It also wasn’t that far away from Essendon Airport, where Quinn usually landed his planes.
I rose. “Evin, you’ll need to stay here—”
“No.” He thrust to his feet, his expression belligerent. “I’m coming with you. I need to help—”
“The best way you can help,” Quinn said gently, “is by continuing the scam here. If they get the slightest idea that something has gone awry, then your mate’s life will be even more at risk. These men are dangerous, and they will do whatever they think is necessary to protect themselves.”
“This is what we do,” I added softly. “And we’re damn good at it. We will get her back safely.”
Which was a stupid thing to promise, given we had no idea what her situation was, but I couldn’t help it. I liked Evin—stepbrother or not—and I didn’t want to see him face the pain of losing a soul mate like I had.
One loss in the family was more than enough.
Evin glanced from Quinn to me then back again. His shoulders slumped. “Okay. But let me know the minute you’ve found her.”
“We will.” I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “And now to tell Jack.”
Quinn stepped forward. “I can—”
I held up a hand. “No. This is my battle.”
I spun around and walked into the cell area. The vamp’s door was open and Rhoan leaned casually against the door frame. He glanced at me. “Find out anything interesting?”
“His contact was Tyson.” I stopped and peered into the cell. Jack was sitting on a chair, and the vamp was upright on the concrete bed. They looked for all the world like they were in the middle of a staring contest, but the sweat beading the younger vamp’s forehead was evidence enough that something else was happening.
And that he was losing the battle.
“Meaning Blake definitely is behind it. Tyson wouldn’t spit without his big brother’s approval.”