Midnight Wolf (Shifters Unbound #11)(28)

“Why would he have to?” Angus’s barked question was cut over by Ciaran.

“You mean you didn’t look for a tracking device? Seriously, Dad.”

Tamsin nodded. “Remember, he asked where you’d disappeared to? Probably meant he lost your signal at some point. I bet it was when we were at the house. Ley line, sentient house. Makes sense.”

Ciaran’s eyes widened as he turned around and studied Tamsin. “You took her to the haunted house? Nice one, Dad.”

Angus gripped the steering wheel, irritated at himself. His son and Tamsin were no doubt right. He hadn’t bothered looking for a tracking device because it hadn’t mattered. He’d planned to do what Haider wanted anyway—why try to do it stealthily?

But now they needed to be invisible—hard to do in a wood-paneled station wagon from the 1970s.

Angus drove as fast as he dared through the narrow streets, which were heavy with traffic, heading for the broad expanse of St. Charles Avenue.

Ciaran peered interestedly over the dashboard. “What are you going to do? Carjack someone?”

“No.” Angus bent a hard look on his son. “We’re not criminals. I had Ben arrange backup for Tamsin if she needed it.”

“Isn’t he sweet?” Tamsin said from the depths of the back seat. “Is Zander hiding out waiting to carry me off? He’s not exactly inconspicuous.”

“You met Zander?” Ciaran’s eyes widened with admiration. “And Ben? Man, I always miss all the fun.”

Angus glanced at him, noting that, despite his wide-eyed interest, Ciaran was trembling. Angus put an arm around him and drew him close.

“If they hurt you, Ciaran, tell me, all right? Don’t hold back. If they did, I’ll kill them.” He rested his hand on his son’s back, all of him rejoicing that his cub was safe. “I’ll probably kill them anyway—I’ll just do it a bit harder.”

He noted Tamsin watching him in the rearview mirror, surprise in her eyes. What had she thought, that Angus would lie down and roll over for Shifter Bureau? He’d have Haider’s balls on a platter for abducting his son.

“They didn’t,” Ciaran answered, subdued. “Just scared me. Or tried to. But I wasn’t scared, Dad. I knew you’d come find me.”

Ciaran’s shivering told Angus he had been scared, terrified. Haider would pay for that.

“You were brave, son. Never let on to those Bureau shits that you’re worried.”

“I didn’t.”

“Good lad.”

Angus pulled around the corner to St. Charles Avenue, a broad boulevard divided by an island along which streetcars clacked. It was lined with houses large and small, all old and stately.

A beige SUV, unassuming and so like every other SUV on the road as to be almost camouflaged, waited in a side lane that led back toward the cemetery.

Angus pulled the station wagon in behind it and stopped. He quickly got out of the car, scanning the roads in case Haider and company were charging down them. Angus calculated they’d have a minute or so, maybe, to get out of here.

A tall black man with a runner’s body climbed of the SUV, tossing Angus a set of keys.

“Thanks, Reg,” Angus said. “You haven’t seen us, right?”

Reg folded his arms as first Ciaran and then Tamsin darted out of the wagon and hurried to the SUV.

Ciaran threw open one of the rear doors. “I’m in back. You get shotgun,” he said to Tamsin.

He didn’t call her by name. He was already learning.

“I haven’t seen anything,” Reg said. “In fact, I’m not even here. I’m jogging by the lake.”

He started for the station wagon, but Angus shook his head. “It’s probably being tracked. Leave it. Can we drop you somewhere?”

“Sure. The lake.”

Without another word, Reg climbed into the back with Ciaran and shut the door. Tamsin was already in the front seat as Angus slid behind the wheel. She rummaged in the glove compartment and pulled out a pair of sunglasses.

“Cool shades,” she said to Reg. “Mind?”

Reg shrugged. Angus could tell he was dying to know who she was and what the hell was going on, but like a good tracker, he knew when to keep quiet.

Tamsin pulled on the square sunglasses, checked her reflection, smiled at it, and hunkered down into the seat.

Angus started the SUV and made a quiet but swift U-turn. He drove sedately to the end of the block, though his heart was thumping with the need to hurry, and turned back onto St. Charles Avenue. This time, he blended in with the traffic, slowing when it slowed, stopping when it stopped.

Every instinct told him to floor it, screech away, and drive like hell, but Angus fought the compulsion. The best way to evade pursuit was to not call attention to himself. This SUV looked like every other one on the road, its windows tinted enough to keep people from seeing clearly who was inside. Reg had chosen well.

“Where did you get this?” Angus asked Reg as he drove carefully along the street. “It’s perfect.”

“What do you mean, where did I get it? It’s mine.”

Angus stepped hard on the brake and glared back at Reg. “Registered with Shifter Bureau?” They’d have a record of the license plate and could easily track them.

Reg frowned at him. “No, no. I’m not an idiot. Bought it under the radar and have been modifying it. You said you needed something inconspicuous.”