Betrayed Forced Mate (Rosecreek Special Ops Wolves #4)

“The projection,” I say, watching as Olivia turns red. “Yeah, we did.”

“That’s great!” Rafael says, clapping his hands and clearly missing Olivia’s misunderstanding.

“Well,” Aris says, as Ado, Bigby, and Rosa walk into the room. “Looks like we can get started. What’s the emergency?”

Apparently, Bigby and Rosa talked it through and decided not to go back to California just now. They’re staying at a hotel while their house is fixed up. Rosa said she didn’t want Kaila to miss Christmas in Rosecreek.

Olivia clicks on the projector, showing the mayor’s image—or not the mayor—and Rafael runs the rest of the group through what this means, and how dangerous it can be to interact with a shapeshifter like this.

“This is interesting and all,” Bigby says, his eyes flicking through the room. “But I’m not sure it warrants an emergency, middle-of-the-night meeting.”

“Right,” I say, moving to the front of the room. “Earlier, Olivia was able to project an image to me through our mental link. Of the man who cursed her.”

I clear my throat, clicking to the next image in the slide show, bringing up the face of an elderly man many in the room know too well.

“What the fuck?” Bigby says, leaning forward, his hands on the table.

“Gods,” Aris says, cursing, while Ado says, “No.”

“I’m sorry,” Rafael says, clearing his throat. “I seem to be missing something here.”

“Yeah,” I say, meeting his eyes, then looking at Rosa and Olivia, who look slightly confused. “This would be our old commander. From the agency.”

“The one who betrayed you?” Rosa asks, her eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Percy says, voice tight, and I look to him, seeing the years of pain and anger flash over his face. In many ways, the commander is directly responsible for what happened to him. By working with Varun—the evil Alpha who killed Aris’s father and took over the Rosecreek pack—to create the serum, the commander put Percy in the line of fire.

“So, what?” Aris asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “The commander is working with the vampires?”

“It’s not surprising,” Bigby says, “given the fact that he colluded with Varun, who was also working with the vamps. I think the biggest question is why.”

“There are a lot of things that don’t quite make sense,” I say, tapping my fingers on the podium. “Like, why are the vamps so interested in Olivia? And what is their big plan? And why would the commander give up his post, his status, his career—everything just to help the fucking vampires?”

I see Percy flinch a bit at the venom in my tone, but I can’t help it. The commander betraying us was bad enough. Him doing it to work with vampires? I close my eyes, briefly imagining what I would do if I could get my hands on him. My fingers itch for my throwing knives.

“So,” Bigby says, eyes going to Aris. “What’s the plan?”

“I think we need to try and catch him out,” Aris says. “Percy, what’s the next event?”

“Chicago,” he says, voice low. “Big one. Friday night.”

Two days from now.

“So, we’ll devise a plan to get into that event. Try to find the commander and bring him back here. Question him. See what they want with Olivia.”

“But they’ll recognize us,” Bigby says, crossing his arms. “The commander and whoever else he’s working with.”

“Looks like we’re sending in a new guy, then,” Aris says, his eyes falling on Rafael. “Someone they won’t recognize. Let’s gather some additional information, and meet up again tomorrow afternoon to iron out the plan.”

***

The lake is still and quiet when I pull into the gravel parking lot, heat blasting in my car. The black firebird is highly impractical for the winters in Rosecreek, and Percy and Bigby are always on me to get a more capable vehicle. But I loved Knight Rider—and Kitt. I wanted a car like that so badly when I grew up. My dad was obsessed with the show and had all the DVDs, so I’d watch them over and over again, especially when he was away, working for the Alpha.

Zane is leaning against a Mustang when I pull into the lot. To my surprise, he’s not smoking—just looking out over the horizon.

“Weird place to meet,” he says, when I climb out of the car. The air is frigid, but not as cold as it has been, hovering in the mid-forties. If the sun was out, it would almost be pleasant for Rosecreek in the winter.

“I didn’t want to do it in town,” I say, “and, except for Bigby, nobody comes out here during the winter.”