Alpha's Revenge (Shifter Ops 3)

My hand’s on my cell phone. Please get service. There’s a blinking telling me it’s roaming, but a call will go through. But who to call? 911? What do I say? “Help, I came to a job offer in a mansion like an idiot, and now I’m trapped?”

If this was a normal situation, I’d call Tabitha and Charlie to get me out. They’d bust down the door. Charlie would show her US Postal service ID like a “get out of jail free” card. Once the door was open, Tabitha would unleash the whirlwind she is. Sadie’s too sweet for confrontation, but she’d drive the getaway car.

But if this is Dieter, something more is at stake here. And I can't involve my friends in something dangerous. There’s only one person I can call. The man who I can trust. Who’s always had my back.

Rafe.

Rafe

I pull up at Adele’s house, but her truck isn’t there.

My phone buzzes. Adele.

I hit the answer button so hard I nearly break it.

“Oh my God, Rafe. Thank God you answered.” Her voice is thready with a panicked edge.

I whirl from the fridge, instantly alert. “Baby, where are you?”

“At this house.” She rattles off an address. “I thought it was a job offer. It seemed too good to be true. And–” She gasps, out of breath.

“Slow down, princess, talk to me.”

“They locked me in. I can’t get out. The windows are too high up. Rafe, the guy said it’s Gabriel Dieter’s house, and now I’m locked in.”

I’m already out the door, car keys in hand. “Hang on, Adele. Sit tight, stay calm.”

“Rafe, I need you.”

“I’m already coming baby, sit tight. Hold fast.”

Fifteen minutes later, Channing’s traced Adele’s call to the location. Deke’s driving, Lance is on the line. I’m holding both Deke’s phone and mine–I kept the call with Adele going, but I’m muted, so I can bark orders without scaring her. I can still hear Adele’s frantic breathing.

“I’ve got Kylie monitoring dark web channels,” Lance’s voice crackles through Deke’s burner phone. “She’s mobilized the Tucson packs. They’re flying in as back up. Colonel Johnson’s coming too, to direct the boots on the ground.”

“They don’t have to do that–”

“For all we know, Dieter’s brought an army. We’re not fucking around. Adele’s family. We’ll all fight to get her back.”

My throat has closed. I can’t speak.

Lance hears my silence and gets it. His voice softens, “Kylie says to pass on this message to you: “Rafe, we’re in this together. You don’t have to go alone.”

“Thank you, brother,” I say finally.

“Anytime. Go get your mate.”

I switch phones and unmute myself on mine. “Adele?”

“I’m here.” She sounds calmer.

“We’ve got your location. Stay safe. We’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you.”

Deke mutters a curse as he takes a tight curve and gravel sprays from under the tires.

“Rafe?” Adele’s voice rises.

“It’s okay, princess.” I keep my voice calm. “Have you seen Dieter?”

“No. The butler said he was going to come, right before he locked me in.”

Cold fire burns in my veins. I calm my wolf, so I keep a clear head.

Adele is saying, “I don’t understand. What does Dieter want with me?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “But it doesn’t matter. You’re safe, and we’re going to get you out.”

“Okay.”

“Stay on the line. If our call drops, it’s okay. We’ve got your location, and we’re coming for you.”

I mute her just in time–Deke screeches to a halt in front of huge ornate gates. He reverses his G63, backs up a few yards and guns the Mercedes forward. I grip the oh-shit handle a second before we smash into the iron. The gates are more than decorative, but they give way with an agonizing screech.

“German engineering.” Deke’s got a crazed grin on his face. He loves the psycho shit. “I’m telling you.”

The Mercedes roars forward, hurtling down the private lane towards a sprawling Tudor home. The front fender’s bent up, but the wheels still work.

“Hold up,” I raise a hand as we get closer. Between us and the house there’s a fancy fountain surrounded by decorative shrubs. The landscaping is completely out of place for the high mesa, but it wouldn’t be the first time a wealthy family drained their well putting a British style garden in an arid area.

Beyond the ridiculous landscaping are rows and rows of soldiers in full military gear. Flak vests, helmets. Bukly AK-47s that I bet have been modified to shoot silver bullets.

Dieter’s army.

“I see them,” Deke says. He angles the Mercedes across the road, so we could take cover behind it.

I lift my burner phone. “Channing?”

“Here, Sarge. I picked up Lance. We’re right behind you.” I hear the roar of the humvee coming up the private road behind us.

“We’ve got trouble,” I bark. “A whole platoon of Dieter’s private army. Just like Switzerland.”

“Shit,” Lance swears. Channing must have me on speaker. “How are we going to pull this off?”