Clearly Malone and his men were unbothered by that pesky sense of honor.
“Since the council approved them for the use of the new inter-Pride task force ten minutes ago.” Dean pointed his pistol at me when Alex adjusted his aim toward Jace.
“You brought them with you…” I whispered, stunned by their brutal preparedness and our deplorable lack of foresight. A chasm of fear opened deep inside me, big enough to swallow me whole.
Dean shrugged and shot me a cocky grin. “We came prepared.”
I couldn’t help wondering what else they’d come prepared for….
“You’re being taken into custody on charges of trespassing, kidnapping, murder, and treason. Walk slowly toward the wall and put your hands behind your back,” Dean said to the room in general.
“Or what?” Jace demanded. “You’ll shoot us, in front of all these witnesses?”
Dean sneered. “If you put up a fight, we’re authorized to shoot to wound. So keep that in mind before you start swinging.”
“This is because of the knife, right?” I stared pointedly at the thick scar bisecting his left cheek. “You can’t be trusted to hold on to your own blade, so they gave you a gun. What makes you think you’re any better with that?”
“We’ll find out if you don’t put that tight little ass against the wall.”
Marc growled. “You touch her and I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Dean demanded. “Bleed all over the floor? Because that’s exactly what’s going to happen if you so much as twitch. Now all of you, up against the wall. Three feet apart.”
“What the hell did I do?” Lucas crossed thick arms over his broad chest, towering over everyone in the room, including Dean.
“We’re not here for you.” Alex prodded Jace with the barrel of his gun until his half brother stepped reluctantly toward the long back wall. “But you’re not going to get in the way, either. Up against the paneling, or I’ll put a hole in your foot.”
Lucas growled, but complied. None of us could fight with a gunshot wound, and we couldn’t afford the time to heal one. Better to escape custody later, than to get shot resisting it.
Marc went next, turning his face toward me as some nameless enforcer shoved him chest-first into the wall. He had to tuck his gun into the back of his pants to cuff Marc, but two of the three spare goons at his back had Marc in their sights, just in case.
“You’re next, princess.” Dean stepped close enough to see down my shirt, but I refused to budge. I would not be handcuffed and dragged out of our own cabin like some kind of criminal. “That’s it. Fight. Make me get rough. I’m just looking for an excuse.”
“Faythe, just do it,” Jace warned, and I could hear the pain in his voice, from what it cost him to say that.
“Is that what you said to get in her pants?” Dean asked, but he was watching me, not Jace, and he stepped closer to whisper the next part, his gun bruising my sternum, his breath sour in my face. “Is that all it takes? One good, hard order?”
“Fuck off,” I whispered through clenched teeth. My hands curled into fists so tight my fingernails cut into my palms. I concentrated on that minute pain to keep my focus. To keep from getting so mad my face Shifted. If that happened, I had no doubt Dean would shoot me. He wouldn’t even hesitate.
“Up against the wall. Now.”
“Faythe, it’ll be okay,” Marc said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, no, it won’t. Not for any of you.” Dean laughed, still staring down at me. “But I might make out all right. Now move.”
When I didn’t, he grabbed my arm hard enough to bruise and physically turned me, but I didn’t walk until he shoved the barrel of his gun into my back. I stopped at the wall, and when I glanced at Marc—my teeth clenched in impotent fury—Dean shoved me from behind, smashing the side of my face into the paneling hard enough to stun me.
I blinked, and the room stopped spinning, but not before he’d pulled my arms behind my back. “Shouldn’t you Mirandize us or something?”
“You mean tell you your rights?” Dean chuckled again. “You no longer have any rights. And you better keep that in mind before you go running your mouth.” Cold metal closed around my left wrist, then my right, and he clicked the cuffs too tight on purpose. “Find their phones.”
“On the end table,” Jace said, before Alex could pat him down.
“Front pocket,” Marc said, obviously hoping to avoid that same process. The nameless goon made a face as he reached around Marc to slide the slim phone out with two fingers.
“What about yours, princess?” Dean whispered into my ear. “Where are you hiding the goods?” He slid his free hand slowly down my side, but I could tell from Marc’s look of absolute hatred that Dean was watching for his reaction, as well as mine.“Te voy a madrear!”
“It’s in the front bedroom,” I said, trying to pull away from Dean’s hand, but his gun poked into my ribs from behind, holding me still.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Dean’s hand slid over my left hip and around the front of my jeans, barely brushing my empty pocket before dipping way too low for standard searching procedures.
This time, Jace’s growl echoed Marc’s, and plastic clicked softly as someone turned off his gun’s safety.
“It’s true, so either shoot me or get the fuck off me!” I shouted, holding back angry tears by sheer will.
“You should calm down,” Dean warned, his breath brushing my ear. “You’re getting your lovers all riled up, and that just can’t end well.”
“Dean.” Alex Malone stepped into my field of vision. “Does she have the phone or not?”
“Not on her,” Dean snapped.
Hmm… Dissention among the ranks?
“Then keep your hands to yourself.”
Dean took a step back, but didn’t dislodge his gun from my spine. “Let’s go.”
Alex nodded, and at his signal, the thug behind Marc turned him by one arm and shoved him forward, then marched him toward the front door. Jace was next, and Dean signaled the remaining “task force” members to follow him. The last one released Lucas, then jogged after the others.
On my way out the door, Dean’s gun digging into my rib cage, I twisted to see Lucas staring after us in total shock. In spite of his size and considerable enforcer experience, he was just as defenseless as the rest of us. The guns were a game changer. “Get my dad,” I said, as Dean shoved me down the first step.
Lucas nodded.
“Yeah, like that’s going to help.” Dean tightened his grip on my arm and leaned to whisper in my ear, as I stared after Marc and Jace in the rapidly fading daylight. “Daddy can’t take a shit anymore without asking Cal for permission, and he sure as hell can’t get you out of this mess. I’m your personal warden. And if you take one step out of line, you’ll never look in another mirror without crying.”
Nine
My dad stepped into the empty living room of the main lodge from the hall just as Dean shoved me through the front door, and it took my Alpha a couple of seconds to process what he saw. Nothing like this had ever happened before in the American Prides.
“Dad?” I was afraid that if I pulled away from Dean, he’d shoot me, and even a nonlethal gunshot wound would make my father lose his temper. Which might get him shot, too.
My father blinked, and when his focus readjusted, his expression went dark, his green eyes glittering with fury. “Get your hands off my daughter before I break them off.” His voice was as deep as I’d ever heard it, rolling with rage like thunder across the sky. He knew what Dean had done to me, and what I’d done to him in return. And that Dean would be itching for revenge.
“Now, Greg, that would be a pretty stupid move.” Calvin Malone leaned against the kitchen doorway, looking infuriatingly smug. He glanced from me to my dad and back, as if he wasn’t sure which sight pleased him more: me handcuffed and held at gunpoint, or my Alpha’s powerless fury. “There’s no reason for this to get violent.”
“I see a number of reasons for violence.” My father took several steps toward me, and Dean shoved the pistol harder into my back. “Let her go, or I’ll rip your throat out where you stand.”
“Dad, stop! He has a gun.”
My father froze in the middle of the floor, as the other Alphas filed in from the hall. He sniffed the air, and his eyes darkened when he picked up the scents of metal and oil.
“Who has a gun? What the hell is this?” my uncle demanded, automatically taking up a position at his brother-in-law’s side.
“Alex Malone and Colin Dean and a bunch of other goons just marched into our cabin with guns and handcuffed us.” I tried to melt Malone alive with the power of my hatred, but he only watched me, apparently content to let me have my say for the moment. “Where the hell are Marc and Jace?”
“Your men are fine. They’re being held in cages in the storage shed out back. We only have one extra room inside, and they both agreed that you should have it. I’d think you’d be grateful for their generosity.”
“You can’t leave them out there. It’s ten degrees! They’ll freeze!”