“No! Not my family!” Joyce cried out, frantic. “You said you wouldn’t hurt my grandmother and brothers if I did what you told me!”
Mitch bared his jagged teeth in an ugly grin. “And you said you’d like to get to know me better. And you said you weren’t sweet on that shifter Paul. We both know those were lies, don’t we?”
“What are you going to do to us?” Joyce’s face was pale and her voice trembled. Chelsea glared at Mitch with murder in her eyes, but he ignored her and spoke to Joyce.
“Those wolves you hear howling? No food for a week. They’re going to tear you to pieces. And your grandmother. Then I’m going to shoot Roman. Then I’m going to set up the scene just right, so they’ll know it was shifters, and this time you little bastards won’t be alive to mess things up for me.” He said that last bit to Ryan and Shawn. Then he stepped out and slammed the door.
As soon as the door closed, Joyce ran over to the desk, grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the zip ties on the boy’s hands.
As she freed them, Chelsea ran to the window and desperately tried to push it up.
“When I get the window open, you boys are going to run,” she said to Ryan and Shawn.
“We’re not leaving you,” Ryan said stubbornly. Shawn burst into tears.
“Are wolves going to eat you? I don’t want wolves to eat you,” Shawn cried.
Joyce looked around the room for something to smash the glass with. She grabbed a heavy hardcover book and hurried over to the window.
And they heard gunshots and screams of pain.
It wasn’t Roman screaming. It was Officer Porter.
Footsteps pounded down the hallway, and Roman flung the door open and quickly ushered Edna in. The confused expression was gone from her face. She was holding a revolver, and her eyes were blazing with triumph. Roman held a gun too; it appeared he’d taken Porter’s gun.
“What’s happening?” Chelsea asked, stepping in front of Joyce and her brothers.
“I shot that bastard Porter right in the family jewels,” Edna said with a satisfied smile. She held up the gun. “Your daddy’s pistol. Kept it hidden in my room in case of emergency.”
They heard the baying and howling of the wild wolves, and then Porter’s screams of agony rose higher and higher.
“Looks like Mitch released the wolves. Thought it would slow me down,” Roman said. He shrugged. “Never met a wolf I couldn’t handle. Chelsea, stay here and keep an eye on the ladies. Don’t argue,” he added sternly. “Wait for me.”
He left the room, and they watched through the window as he ran outside. Mitch had climbed into his pickup truck and was driving off in a hurry. Roman aimed at the truck and shot out both tires. Half a dozen wolves raced out the front door and surrounded Roman, but they didn’t harm him; they stood by his side, howling.
Mitch’s truck spun out of control, skidded on the dirt road and landed on its side. It lay there, tires spinning. The driver’s side door flung open and Mitch stuck his head out. Blood was streaming down his face, and as soon as he spotted Roman and the wolves howling by his side, he ducked back into the truck and pulled the door shut.
“I’ll go call the police,” Chelsea said, heading for the door.
“You can’t,” Joyce called after her. “Mitch cut the phone lines and set up a signal jammer so I couldn’t use my cell phone either.”
“All right then. We’ll just wait for Roman to take Mitch prisoner, and then we can drive into town,” Chelsea said. “In the meantime, let’s get some food for those wolves.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mitch lay by the side of the road, trussed up like a turkey, screaming threats and promises and pleas for mercy. He’d make them all millionaires! Multi-millionaires! He’d give them anything they wanted!
They ignored him.
They stood on the front porch, outside the house. Roman had found the signal jammer and disabled it, and they’d called the Council for Shifter Affairs. At this point, they didn’t want to deal with the Juniper police department. State Police had been notified and were on their way.
Chelsea was still shaken. She leaned on Roman, who had his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.
“What’s going to happen to those wolves?” Ryan asked. The wolves had been fed, and Roman had locked them back up inside the house. They’d followed him around in postures of submission; they could sense an Alpha, even one in shifter form.
“They’ll be treated by a vet, and then the Department of Fish and Game will release them in a wilderness area,” Chelsea said. “We’ll make sure of it.”