“Play nice, Dillinger.” Rathbone moved away from the bar. “Your mate took an instant disliking to my brother.”
Cate bristled. “Can you blame me?”
Rathbone shrugged. “Get to know him and—”
“No, thank you,” she said, tone prim and proper.
Clenching his teeth, Rannock swallowed the urge to laugh. His mate. Goddess, she impressed him. Even now, while surrounded by the enemy, in the midst of an uncertain situation, she held her ground, refusing to back down, making him so proud he struggled to control his reaction. The beast inside him helped, rising to his surface with such savagery Rannock tensed.
Taut muscles bracketing his spine flickered. Magnetic force slithered beneath his skin. The need to unleash unspeakable violence curled through him.
Feeling the shift in his mood, Cate changed her grip on his hand. Soft skin and smooth calluses grazed his palm as she laced her fingers with his. The comforting gesture burned through him. The urge to rip Rathbone’s head off was downgraded from must do to maybe later. A creature of immediate action, his dragon half protested the delay. Corralling his beast, Rannock drew a calming breath, then turned his attention back to the source of his ire.
His eyes narrowed on Rathbone. “Your terms, Shadow Walker.”
Taking a sip from his mug, Rathbone frowned. Steam curled from his cup as he turned back to the breakfast bar, picked up a small pitcher, and added more cream to his coffee. Moving with controlled precision, Rathbone took another sip.
He sighed.
Rannock growled.
The bastard’s pale gaze met his. He raised a brow. “Perhaps Cate could step—”
“Nay. My mate stays with me,” he said, setting terms of his own.
Though he might be separated from her eventually—depending on the task Rathbone required him to complete. Rannock knew the stakes without having any laid out. Cate’s freedom for his compliance. For the retrieval of whatever Henry Biscayne took from Habersham House.
Frowning, he stared at Rathbone. He understood the game, knew how to play it, but for one problem. He was missing a vital piece of information.
Nothing about the Shadow Walker’s strategy made sense. The bastard couldn’t have known a Dragonkind warrior was involved with Cate, or that he would protect her at all costs. Which meant Rathbone had planned to take her all along… but for a different reason. One other than to force another magic wielder—a warrior with a strong pack at his back—to do his bidding.
Excellent theory.
Solid argument.
A worrisome thread to follow.
The possible reasons for Cate’s abduction were endless. Rannock took a stab at it anyway. Whatever Henry Biscayne had stolen from Habersham House must be of tremendous importance. A matter of life and death for Rathbone and his brothers. No matter how brutal, the trio didn’t seem like the types to target innocent females. Fact, not fiction. He read it in each male’s bones, saw it in the way each held himself. None of the three liked what they’d done to Cate. Dillinger, with his pissy attitude—and his poorly veiled attempt to hide how he really felt about kidnapping a female—included.
Honorable males. All three.
Under normal circumstances.
Gaze jumping from one Shadow Walker to the next, Rannock put the puzzle together. The last piece clicked into place. He sucked in a quick breath. “Bloody hell. You planned to trade her. Her father took it. You need it back. Whoever has what you want gave you an ultimatum, her for—”
“The TriHexe, yes,” Rathbone murmured.
Cate flinched. “What?”
“Steady, lass.”
She drew a shaky breath. “But—”
“The plan changed the instant Rathbone realized who I am,” Rannock said, focus glued to the trio’s leader. “And what my pack and I are capable of doing.”
“Right again.” Glancing at Cate, Rathbone tipped his chin. “My apologies, Cate. I did everything possible to avoid taking you—working back channels, negotiating with underlings, sending human crews in to steal it back, but all my plans failed. The humans I sent were delivered back to me in pieces. The Blind Witch refuses to negotiate. All she wants is—”
“Me.”
Rathbone nodded. “Yes.”
“Why? I’ve never met… I don’t even know…” Cate whispered, her voice fading to nothing.
“Your father.” Crouching in front of the hearth, Noble added another log to the fire. He tossed in a handful of wood chips on top. Flames hissed. Embers sparked. The smell of wood smoke and cedar spilled into the room as he turned to Cate. “He’s become something of an amusement for her. A master thief capable of stealing whatever she wants without her having to leave the protection of her coven. For her, one is good, two is better.”
“I’m not a thief. That makes no sense.”
Noble shrugged. “Dealing with witches never does.”
Rannock growled. “So, my mate for the return of the TriHexe?”
“Precisely.” Setting his mug down on a massive desk, Rathbone crossed his arms, then leaned back against the wooden edge. “The place she calls home, we cannot go. The enchantment surrounding the Witch’s Cauldron is designed to trap and bind unwelcome Fae. If we go in, my brothers and I will not come back out.”
Lovely story. A little too simple for Rannock’s liking. There must be a catch. No way would Rathbone share so openly without a trump card up his sleeve.
“What’s tae keep me from walking out with my mate right now?” Rannock asked, testing the boundaries, afraid of what he would find. “With my pack at my back, no way you can stop me.”
“The instant she leaves Habersham House, she’ll die.” Pushing away from the wall, Dillinger flexed his hands. Green eyes flickered in discomfort as he stared at Cate, then looked at Rannock. “Unless one of us removes the pod nestled against the base of her skull.”
Alarms went off inside his head.
Shaking free of her hand, Rannock spun to face her. Jolted by the abrupt movement, Cate jerked as he raised his hands. One landed on the side of her throat. The other cupped the back of her head. Holding her secure, he sent his senses searching. Magic hummed through his veins. He funneled the power through his fingertips, hunting for the pod, hoping the bastard lied, praying the claim amounted to nothing but a scare tactic.
He located it on the second pass.
Small. Barely detectable. One hundred percent deadly.
Fueled by unbreakable magic, the seed contained enough explosives to blow his mate’s head off. Dillinger was right. The second Cate stepped off the premises, outside the protection spell surrounding Habersham House, she’d die. Instantly. Horribly. No way for him to prevent it.
He flexed his hands in her hair. “Fuck.”
Blue eyes wide with fear, Cate swallowed. “They did something while I was unconscious, didn’t they? Can you feel it? Is it really inside my head?”
“Aye.”
“Can you—”
“Nay, Bellmia,” he said, stomach churning with dread. “I cannae remove the pod without setting it off. My magic is much different than theirs.”
She closed her eyes. “My freaking father.”
Fear for her punched through.
Rannock drew her into his arms. Cate snuggled in, seeking his warmth. He gave it without reservation, reassuring her with his touch as he met Rathbone’s gaze. “I need details.”