Chapter 6
Ford
Less than an hour after takeoff, we near a landing pad not far from Montreal's old town. On the way into the city, we're granted a clear view of the shifter king's walled compound at the edge of a large city park.
"He bought the botanical gardens and the land next door about a decade ago and built the walls not long after," Catherine says, her voice tinny in the headsets we're all wearing. "But he didn't move his pack in until about six years ago. Before that, while the community structures and housing were being built, he used the land primarily as a prison and playground for him and his sicker friends. Rumor has it they hunted humans they kidnapped for sport and ate them afterwards." Layla pulls a face. "Just when you think these f***s can't get any grosser."
"Jean-Paul pushes the limits of what even the more extreme packs will tolerate," Catherine says. "He's been censured by the Canadian high council twice. If he gets a third strike, he's out as king. If we had time, we could appeal to them, explain that Juliet was kidnapped, and probably get this taken care of without bloodshed."
"But we don't have time," I remind them both. "And we don't know how many of the Canadian packs are secretly on his side. He might have more allies than we think."
"Agreed," Catherine says. "And even a few allies advocating for him with the council could slow down the process significantly. By the time we got to Juliet, she might not be the same woman we knew before. His t*****e methods are legendary and heinous." We all fall silent for a moment. I don't know what the others are thinking, but I keep seeing Juliet on the auction block, thin and haunted and so close to broken. She's as tough as they come, but everyone has a breaking point.
I won't let Jean-Paul be hers.
"So, how are we getting in? In the event sneaking in via stealth hedgehog doesn't work?" Layla asks. "Those walls are intense and I'm sure he has top-notch security."
"He does," Catherine says, "but he also has a weak spot for praise and flattery. Especially from people he secretly thinks are his betters. My father rules territory twenty-times the size of Jean-Paul's with triple the shifter population. If I say I've come on my father's behalf to petition the king, he'll let me in. I'm sure of it. And once I'm inside, I'll figure out a way to get the two of you in, as well."
"Petition the king for what?" I ask. "From what I've heard, Jean-Paul is crazy, but he's not stupid. You'll have to have a motivation that holds water."
"Everyone knows my pack's been under attack by insurgents for years. My father's always been too proud to ask for help, but we're nearing a decade of conflict." Catherine glances out the window as she adds, "After a decade, even a man as independent as my father might be willing to reach out for assistance. And Jean-Paul would be a good choice. He's parents were both French immigrants, but his grandfather grew up in my pack before he left to join his wife's people in Annecy. And he has artillery to spare. He's been hoarding weapons since he was crowned at nineteen."
Layla rolls her eyes. "What is it with sociopaths and guns?"
Catherine sits back in her seat as the chopper drops too low for the compound to be visible. "One of his advisors is an astrologist. She predicts an apocalyptic event will reorder reality as we know it in our lifetime. Jean-Paul intends to be prepared for that with weapons, an impenetrable fortress, and a ridiculous amount of Cool Ranch Doritos. Allegedly, he has up to forty pallets stockpiled in his larder at any given time."
"Well, if we needed more proof that he's out of his goddamned mind, we'd have it," Layla says. "Cool Ranch Doritos give processed food a bad name."
"Agreed," Catherine says. "When I eat chips, it's kettle cooked potato chips with sea salt and truffle oil or nothing."
The chopper touches down and the engine cuts off. As the blades slow above us, we pull off our headsets and place them on the hooks next to our seats. "What about you Ford?" Layla asks. "What do you think?"
I arch a brow. "I don't have opinions on chips at the moment."NôvelDrama.Org holds © this.
"No," Layla says. "The plan. Since she's an Alpha's daughter, Catherine should be fairly safe with Jean-Paul, right? Killing her would be a much bigger deal than killing one of us."
I shake my head. "I don't know. I don't think we should take anything about this guy for granted. He's unhinged or he wouldn't have joined forces with a wild card like Hammer or betrayed the most powerful wolf king in North America. And if Hammer's told him what happened at Lost Moon, he's going to be on high alert."
"True," Layla says, frowning. "And what about the thing with Alexander? Does Jean-Paul know Beck was blackmailing your brother to help the New Lupine Brotherhood take over?"
"I don't know," Catherine says. "It could be something Beck cooked up himself. I wouldn't put it past him. Or it could be something he was told to do by the higher ups."
"And if it was ordered by the higher ups, you could be walking into a trap," I say. "And I doubt your father's status will matter much to Jean-Paul. He might not kill you, the way he'd kill us, but I'm not sure the alternative would be much better."
Catherine's brow furrows as she nods. "I know. But this might be our only shot at getting to Juliet. And it's a risk I'm willing to take. I need to make this right, Ford. I love Juliet. And I love my brother too much not to do everything in my power to fix this. If I don't, it will destroy him. As terrible as this mistake was, I don't believe he deserves that."
I grunt, unwilling to comment on what Alexander "deserves" right now. I'm still too angry. And scared. Alex's choices directly contributed to Juliet's capture.
If she's dead or scarred for life, it's at least partly his fault.
I can't get past that right now. I might never be able to get past it, but if we get Juliet out before it's too late, there's at least a chance. I hate that Catherine feels compelled to put herself at risk to make up for her twin's choices, but I also get it. And she's right, this may be our only chance at getting into Jean-Paul's compound.
As the pilot opens the door and pulls down the stairs leading to the tarmac, I nod. "All right. That's our back-up plan. But first we'll scout the compound for weaknesses and alternative ways onto the property utilizing your hedgehog form." We exit the chopper, thanking the driver on our way toward the small reception building closer to the street. "The plans for the structure have to be on file somewhere," I continue. "Not even Jean-Paul can get away with skirting building codes. And if there's a way in through the sewer system or stowed away on a delivery truck or something, that will be safer for everyone. Better if Jean-Paul has no idea he's under attack until we have a gun held to his head."
"Speaking of guns," Layla says, adjusting the holster under her lightweight jacket, "I can't promise I'll be great with mine. I've only been to the shooting range twice and that was years ago when my grandpa was still alive. I'm better with a knife. Or claws." "Then we'll get you one," I assure her. "And I think it's fine to keep shifting on the table. As long as you have enough strength to shift back quickly. A bear running loose in Montreal would definitely attract attention."
"A wolf, too, but not a hedgehog," Catherine says. "Sometimes it's good to be an itty-bitty Variant."
"Until you're attacked by feral dogs," Layla says, casting a pointed glance at two strays fighting over part of an old pizza box across the street. "No matter how this shakes down, it's going to be dangerous. We should probably update our wills, just in case. If I die, donate what's left in my savings account to a charity that helps trafficked women and kids. Might as well have that go to a good cause."
"I don't have any savings," Catherine says, "but I have my dead mother's ring in my jewelry box back at Lost Moon. Make sure Alexander gets it. And that he knows I love him just as much as I ever did."
"All I have is Juliet," I say when the women cast expectant glances my way. "And she knows how I feel."
She does. I know she does, but that doesn't make this any easier.
If anything, it makes it harder.
She'll know exactly how much it's killing me to know she's in trouble. But hopefully, she'll also know that I'll stop at nothing to set her free. I will get her back or die trying. Nothing will stop me but Death himself and hopefully Jean-Paul isn't expecting that level of commitment.
And hopefully I'll be the one to teach him just how dangerous it can be to underestimate the power of a fated mate's devotion.