“I don’t. He contacts me.”
“And what does he want with these people you retrieve for him?”
“He never said. But they’re always lone shifters. Sometimes women, sometimes men, sometimes children. Different breeds of shifter. Like he’s picking people at random, or just wants a random selection of people.”
Sometimes children. Anger bloated Tate’s insides, but he kept it out of his tone as he asked, “And you have no idea why?”
“He never told me. And the guys who I deliver the loners to wouldn’t tell me shit either.”
“Describe these men for me,” said Havana.
“They wore ski-masks. I never saw their faces. But I scented that they’re jaguars.”
Tate lifted his brow. “And the person who hired you? Is he a shifter?”
“I don’t know—he never said, and I never asked.”
“The jaguars didn’t once say anything that would give you an idea of what their boss wanted all these loners for?” asked Havana, her tone purely conversational.
Tate noted that she sure was good at acting calm and non-judgmental even while she had to be pissed.
The cougar swallowed. “One time, when I was just about to drive away after dropping off a swan shifter, I had the window open and heard one guy say that the boss would definitely get ‘top dollar’ for the swan. I didn’t hear all of the second guy’s response, but I heard the words ‘shame you and me can’t bid at the auction.’”
Tate tensed. “Auction?”
“They also said something about ‘the family’ and ‘kin’ and ‘patriarch.’ Like … I don’t know, like they were mafia or something.”
Wariness stiffened Tate’s muscles, and he exchanged a look with his brother.
“That’s all I know,” said Rupert. “It’s all I wanted to know. If you know too much, you become a liability. I didn’t want to get bumped off.”
“And so you kept on delivering loners, knowing what their fate would be.” What a fucking prince. “What about your partner who drove the van last night? What does he know?”
“No more than I do.”
“What’s his name, and where do we find him? Rupert,” Tate pressed when he failed to answer.
The cougar’s mouth tightened. “He’s a friend.”
“One who left you behind,” Bailey cut in, doing a pirouette for some damn reason. “Is he worth going through another fifteen hours of venom-induced misery?”
Rupert winced and then muttered a low curse. “Sinclair,” he eventually burst out. “His name is Sinclair Rodgers.” Rupert reluctantly rattled off his address. “He won’t be there. He’ll have packed his shit and left by now.”
“You think he’ll be on the run?” Havana asked.
“He’d be stupid to hang around after we failed to deliver you,” Rupert told her. “We messed up once before. The boss doesn’t tolerate failure but gave us a second chance. We screwed that up.”
“In that case, it’s best not to give Sinclair more time to flee.” Havana looked from Aspen to Camden. “Go check his apartment on the off-chance that he’s still there. Be careful.” The pair nodded and disappeared up the stairs.
“Go with them,” Tate told Farrell, who instantly obeyed.
Havana turned back to Rupert. “Now, I want the names of all the people you were hired to kidnap. I also want the locations you were instructed to take the loners.”
“Can I have some more water?”
“Names and dump sites,” she pushed.
“I don’t remember all of them. I can give you the ones I remember.”
Havana typed every name and location into the notepad app on her phone.
Tate cocked his head, glaring at the cougar. “It didn’t bother you to snatch all those people? You’re a lone shifter yourself. Surely that should have made you a little reluctant to take this job.”
Rupert shrugged. “Being a loner is no breeze. Their lives were already fucked.”
“My life isn’t,” said Havana, pocketing her phone, so pissed at this fucker she almost couldn’t stand it. Loners were in enough danger from packs and clans etc. They didn’t need additional danger coming from other lone shifters. The fact that he could kidnap children and not give a sliver of a fuck what happened to them … he really did need to die. Slowly. Painfully. “In fact, I happen to like my life a lot. Who’s to say that they weren’t enjoying their lives until you delivered them to be auctioned off?”
“If I hadn’t done the job, someone else would have,” Rupert insisted. “And it’s not like I hurt them. I’m just the delivery guy.”
“Were, Rupert, you were the delivery guy.” Havana stood upright. “After today, you won’t be anything, because I don’t intend for you to live to see the end of it.”
Rupert notched up his chin. “Fine. Get it over with.”
What, as if she’d give him a swift execution? He didn’t deserve one. Havana would have enjoyed spending a few hours putting him through a tremendous amount of pain, but she couldn’t handle the stench down here much longer. Plus, it was probably best not to make it clear to Tate that she had some experience with torture.
She didn’t look away from the cougar as she said, “Bailey.” Wicked fast, the female shifted. “I think three bites should do it.”
He tensed as the mamba slithered out of the puddle of clothes. “No. No.”
“Yes. Yes. Why you thought your death would be quick, I have no idea.”
He glared at Havana. “I told you everything you wanted to know!”
Her face hardened. “You also kidnapped women, men, and children for some fucker to sell them. You didn’t care that pretty much anything could happen to them after they were sold. You showed them no kindness or mercy. So why the fuck should we show any to you?”
And then Bailey’s mamba struck, biting him three times in quick succession.
He cried out, struggling against his binds.
Havana sighed. “This is all on you, Rupert. You really should have made better life choices.” She spun on her heel and faced Corbin. “I’ll clean up whatever mess he makes after he takes his last breath.”
The grizzly waved his hand. “Don’t worry about that, I got it.”
Once Bailey was back in her human form and fully dressed, they left the basement.
“So,” began Bailey, “there’s some guy out there holding auctions where he sells loners. Did I get that right? Is that actually happening?”
“Sounds like it,” said Corbin, planting his fists on his hips. “What is the world goddamn coming to? And how the hell do we find out who’s behind all this?”
Havana rubbed at her chin. “It would be helpful if Sinclair stuck around, but there’s a good chance he’s in the wind. Aspen will let us know soon enough. We need to ID the jaguars, but I don’t see how we can.”
Bailey bit her lower lip. “Someone somewhere has to have heard of these auctions, even if they’re only rumors.”
“I’ll reach out to my allies and contacts,” said Tate. “They might have heard something.”