Page 54 of Savage Trap

A man in a tux and a woman in an evening dress are sitting at a small table in the middle of the cavernous ballroom. There’s a long-stemmed candle set between them, with crystal glassware, and even a decorative flower arrangement. But there’s so much blood dripping off the white tablecloth, I can’t tell if there was ever anything on their plates.

“It’s Prior and Peters,” Link tells the team, bringing up two familiar faces on his screen. I stare in disbelief at Phillip Prior, Kelly’s uncle, and Paige Peters, my mom’s one-time assistant and Roan Bisha’s sidepiece. Last time I saw her, she beat the shit out of me in the Tower when I was cuffed and couldn’t fight back. But payback must be a bitch, because along with their elegant evening wear, they’re both now sporting slit throats.

“This whole thing’s staged,” Cam says, turning over Paige’s wrist, which flops like a dead fish. “Ligature marks, and it looks like they were gagged at one point.”

“There are name tags.” Rory picks up a white card from next to Paige’s blood-splattered wine glass, but drops it like it burned his fingers. “Shit.”

“What does it say, Rory?” I demand.

He huffs a breath, but Cam’s face appears on the screen. “It says: For Elvana.” He grimaces and points to a similar card in front of Phillip. “That one says: For Kellman.”

“Fucking hell,” Rory hisses, turning in a circle so we can see the whole empty ballroom. “Is some psycho really wooing our mates with murder gifts?”

I glance back at the bedroom door, relieved that Kelly isn’t here to see this, but Arben already has them on the move. “There’s nothing else for us to find here. We might as well head back.”

“Hold on.” Cam nods at something on the table next to Prior’s plate. “That cell phone looks kind of staged, too.”

“I have Prior’s number,” Link tells him. “Let me trace it.”

But Cam is already plucking another card from the sticky tablecloth, his frown deepening. “I think it’s in Albanian.”

Arben takes it from him, a sigh leaking through the comms. “It’s from Luca.” Link is still trying to trace Prior’s cell phone, but his fingers go still and we exchange a puzzled glance. “I’ll explain later,” Arben says, “but I think a ghost from my past is haunting me.”

I shake my head, confused. The only Luca I know is the one Arben befriended in the orphanage when they were kids. But I hold my tongue as he plucks the blood-soaked phone from the table and scrolls through the contacts. He musters fantazëm under his breath – another ghost reference - and puts it on speaker. Cam and Rory keep their eyes on the door as we listen to it ring.

“Arbi.”

It’s a voice I’ve never heard before. I know, because it’s deep and guttural, and so full of dominance it would live in my head for days. But Link jerks beside me like he’s been hit with an electric current. “What?” I whisper.

“Nothing.” He scowls, staring at the screen so hard he looks like he’s trying to crack it. “I just… Can you translate?”

I jerk back to the conversation and realize they’re talking in Albanian. “Um, yeah. He’s telling Arben that he’s done this for his own good. That Arben has put himself in danger. And something about a job, from a European Pack Alpha.” I swallow hard as the words shift painfully around in my head. “It’s a catch and cage order. On Arben. Because they want what he has.”

Link makes a low growling sound. His fingers are flying, and I don’t know if it’s because he’s pissed at the threats Luca is making, or because he can’t trace the call fast enough for his liking.

But Arben sounds almost gentle as he says, “Luca, this isn’t a job you want to take. I will defend my pack, even from you.”

“Our pack,” the voice purrs from the other end of the call. “Don’t you remember, brother?”

My voice falters as the phone suddenly clicks off, and Lick nudges me. It takes a moment to gather enough moisture in my mouth to respond. “He said, ‘fate has a pack for us all.’”

There’s a noise behind us, and I drag my eyes from the screen as Kelly comes stumbling into the room like he’s sleepwalking. His face is flushed, and his scent is sour with stress. He looks around in a panic. “Who was that? Who’s here?”

“No one,” I say quickly, jumping up to hug him. “Are you okay? Were you dreaming?”

“I don’t know.” He drags me against him with a moan, burying his face in my hair, and I get a concentrated dose of his scent. Oh, shit. But he huffs out an awkward chuckle. “I think it was just a nightmare, but my heart’s racing like it’s going to burst.”

“It’s okay, but I think it’s more than that,” I tell him, gesturing for Link to follow as I steer Kelly out into the sitting area. I lower him onto the couch and hurry to grab some water from the kitchen. “Here, drink this, Sunshine.”

He drains the bottle without argument, but his eyes are still glazed. And when Link comes into the room, he stops dead. “You’re in heat.”

Kelly looks like he’s just been kicked in the stomach. “What?”

“It’s okay,” I tell them both, grabbing my phone off the table. “I’ll call Nate. We can get some heat blockers from the hospital.”

I get his voicemail, so I leave a message and shoot off a text, while Link goes back into the comms room to inform the guys. I don’t open the bond in case there’s still a chance of distracting them, but I can guess their reaction. When Kelly goes into heat, it’s not as bad as it used to be, but it’s still pretty chaotic. He no longer has to go into isolation, or get tied up so he doesn’t hurt himself, but it’s still really hard for him to control his emotions. He needs knots and bites and a dominant hand. Which means we need all our alphas here desperately.

“Arben doesn’t want us going anywhere,” Link says grimly as he returns to the room. “He says it’s too dangerous. Even the hospital.”

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