Wolf's Fall (Alpha Pack #6)(32)
“How do you know it was hunters?”
Tarron said, “Because one of my guards, Graham, was with her at the time. They were down by the wading pool when the humans surprised them. Just moments ago, he was able to tell this to Dr. Archer, who relayed the information to us.”
“Okay,” Nick said thoughtfully. “If hunters take a prisoner, which they almost never do, then what are they after? Ransom money? Some kind of political leverage?”
“My guess is they’re after money. Not to mention the thrill of having a prominent vampire at their mercy,” Tarron said with anger.
“Money and sheer brutality, then.” He could imagine what they were doing to his beautiful vampire, and shoved the thoughts out of his mind. “We need to move. I’ll take half of my men and we’ll track her scent, as well as the bastards who took her.”
Tarron’s expression was grateful. “In the meantime, I’ll—” On the table, the prince’s phone buzzed. Everyone went quiet as he checked it. “It’s a text, from a blocked number. Looks like the link to a Web site.”
“That’s all?” Nick asked. “May I see?”
Tarron handed him the phone, and Nick clicked on the link, which was just a series of letters and numbers that didn’t spell anything. The device switched over to the Internet browser and the Web site popped up on-screen. He frowned.
“It’s a room that’s empty except for a chair sitting in the middle of the floor.” Turning the device around, Nick showed the screen to the prince.
Tarron stared at the picture for about two seconds, then turned to one of his men. “I’m going to get my laptop from my office. Get Teague in here to record this and run a trace.”
“Yes, Prince.”
The man hurried away and Tarron disappeared. Nick and the others fidgeted restlessly until Tarron returned a couple of minutes later with the laptop. Looking at his phone, Tarron typed the link to the site and pulled it up. The mystery room on the screen was still occupied solely by the chair.
But not for long. Several men came into the frame—and one shoved Calla hard into the chair. She stumbled and almost fell over it, hands bound behind her back; then she righted herself and sat in it as ordered. Her glare spoke volumes about what she’d do if she were free and able to speak, but her mouth was taped as well. Nick silently cheered her courage, even as terror gripped him anew.
“Hurry up with that trace,” Tarron snapped at his tech man as the guy hurried into the room.
Wires were hooked into the laptop, then stretched to another computer Teague had brought with him to run the trace. Nick didn’t know how to help with that part, so he kept his attention on what was going on with Calla.
The hunters secured her ankles to the chair with more tape, and then moved behind her to do the same with her wrists to the chair slats. Then they left and she was alone in the frame for a few minutes. To psych her out, he guessed. And us, too. They want us to suffer along with her.
A tall figure finally moved slowly into the frame. Any hope of identifying him withered as he turned to face the camera, and it was revealed he was completely cloaked in black from head to toe. Nothing showed, not even his eyes.
“Fucker’s wearing one of those mesh mask things,” one of the guards spat. “He can see out, but we can’t see in.”
Nick tried to gauge his height, but without a point of reference other than Calla seated near him, it was hard to say. Six feet or a little over, maybe. The black cloak concealed his build, too.
“Are you all watching? Prince Tarron and Commander Westfall, I think you’ll find this presentation particularly interesting.”
The man’s deceptively calm voice was a jolt, shattering the stillness in the conference room. The voice was distorted electronically, which had exactly the intended effect—it chilled Nick and everyone else to the core.
“Somehow, he knows about you and Calla,” Tarron said quietly to Nick.
They exchanged uneasy glances and turned their gazes back to the screen as the cloaked f*cker went on.
“If I don’t have your attention now, I will soon enough.” He paused. “You have no idea how I’ve suffered because of your actions. All of you.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Tarron asked hoarsely.
Nick shook his head. He had no idea.
“How can I make her suffer? How many ways can I make her bleed?”
“The trace,” Nick growled to Teague. “Do you have it?”
The tech banged a fist on the table. “They’ve got the IP address blocked. Dammit!”
Sidling close to Calla, the figure leaned over, putting the front of his mask close to Calla’s neck. Then he raised the mask just enough to expose his chin and mouth—and then he struck, burying his fangs in her flesh. She cried out, arching against her bonds.
Vampire. Nick stood there, fists clenched, his wolf surging inside him, demanding to be freed. Anger boiled, and he desperately needed to rip out the bastard’s heart for daring to touch his woman. To put her through the same torture Nick had endured at Carter’s hands. He was vaguely aware of Tarron shouting his anger at the monitor.
But when a slim blade slid from the sleeve of the assailant’s cloak, his blood ran cold.
“Our sweet princess won’t bow to my persuasion. Perhaps this will remind her who is in charge around here.” Reaching out, he ripped the tape off her mouth. “Let them hear you.”