“What’s left?” Mal asked, sprawled in the chair at the end of the table.
“California is pretty locked up. The Texas border is still an issue, but that doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with Cyrus.” Finn sighed, running a hand over his head. “Cyrus and the Others are done in Chicago, period. They’re on every watch list out there.”
“No shit?” Mal asked.
“No shit.” Finn nodded.
Finn and the pack had learned about the Others’ human trafficking dealings when Mal had been their prisoner. He’d been kept in a cage, repeatedly skinned and tortured, until he was able to break out. With a fellow captive in tow—Olivia. It was her brother who helped Cyrus with the girls, her brother who had left her to be taken by the Others, and her brother who Mal wanted to kill. But, for Olivia, he’d restrained himself.
“Can you arrest a werewolf?” Anders asked.
Everyone looked at him.
“Are you seriously asking?” Dante asked.
“If a wolf is foolish enough to be caught and arrested, it’s possible.” Ellen chose that moment to walk into the room.
Hollis forced his attention back to his laptop. Since their encounter in the shower, he’d been more aware of her. So had his dick. Which could be problematic, to say the least. She, on the other hand, treated him exactly the same.
“But they’d have to be kept collared with silver to keep them weak and prevent them from shifting.” She stretched, moving with her normal predatory grace that warned a person away but was, oddly, impossible to resist. Especially when she stretched her arms behind her back, pulling the thin cotton of her tank top tight across her full breasts. Shit. No bra. Of course not. Not Ellen. He knew how she felt. How deceptively soft she was in his hands. The last few nights he’d dreamed of little else.
Hollis cleared his throat, flexed his hand, and stared at the spreadsheets, the numbers blurring before his eyes.
“Cyrus did that?” Finn asked.
“Regularly.” She nodded. “He was researching injections that contained slight traces of silver to keep a wolf weakened. Everyone he tried it on died while I was there. But he believed it would be successful.” She bit into an apple, the crunch drawing his gaze back to her.
A drop of juice hung from the corner of her mouth. His chest compressed, a hollow, aching heat taking up residence deep inside.
“Jesus.” Dante shook his head. “He’s one sick fuck.”
“You’re just now figuring that out?” Mal asked.
Dante glared at her. “And you want to go back to that?”
Ellen glared right back. No, she didn’t want to go back, he knew that much. It was more than that. Not that she was going to tell him about it. “I have unsettled business with him.”
“Speaking of business. If Cyrus keeps turning people, might be a new industry. Like a ‘How to be a Good Wolf’ training camp, you know? Once he’s dead and all.” Anders picked up.
“Your brain is a mystery,” Dante muttered, shaking his head.
But Hollis kept watching her. The slow ease of her posture as she regarded each member of the pack. Her expression remained closed, until her eyes met his. For a brief moment their gazes locked. Long enough to make it hard to breathe, let alone think. Then her gaze fell away from his. But, still, he couldn’t look away.
“Gentry’s contacts know what they’re dealing with?” Mal asked.
Finn nodded. “As much as you can know before you come face-to-face with them.”
Ellen was staring at the apple in her hands, turning the red fruit with unsteady fingers. “W
hen you killed Byron—” Her mismatched eyes homed in on Mal.
Mal nodded, his dark gaze meeting hers.
“Did he suffer?” she asked, her chin thrust out in defiance.
Mal cleared his throat. “Not enough.”
“He should have suffered.” Her voice was edged with fury. And grief. “He’d done unspeakable things to so many. His death should have reflected that.”