Page 20 of Villainous Fate

Chapter 12

Deacon

HourspassasIsit silently, staring out the window. Frank, our lead enforcer, doesn’t say a word to me the entire trip, and worse, I’m convinced he’s a psychopath because he rides without any music or radio playing. The rumble of the engine is the only sound I hear. I allow myself to drift in and out of sleep, remembering that Luca told me his first test happened before getting to the training facilities.

I’m unsure where training will be this year, but we're headed East based on the signs we pass. I bet we’ll be placed somewhere in northern Utah or Colorado, as those mountains span wide and far enough to keep our activities covert if any humans venture in our way.

We can’t let them find out we’re wolves in sheep’s clothing.

The sun flashes into the cab, waking me from my drowsing, and I turn to look over at Frank.

“Are we going to be there anytime soon?” I ask.

“Can’t tell you that.”

“Well, unless you want me to piss right here, you may want to at least plan a stop on our route,” I counter, attitude flowing into my voice.

“I’ll be getting gas again at the next town, think you can hold it until then, sleeping beauty?” He replies, lifting an eyebrow, which is about the only emotion this guy ever has.

Frank has been the head enforcer of our pack since my father took over. He’s our best interrogator and, hands down, the strongest non-alpha in the pack. My father chose well in that regard.

Frank’s no-nonsense attitude leaves little room for conversation, so I turn my attention back out the window as I notice mountains behind us and up ahead. His voice startles me after several minutes of silence.

“This year’s retreat training is different. When I took Luca, they had all the events pre-planned and notified the packs of what would be involved. This year, we only got a location for the drop. Everything has been kept from us, including who else will be with you. I tell you this because I know our Alpha did not. The retreat isn’t run by the West Coast committee anymore. It’s been taken over by the LLC.”

He doesn’t look at me when he gives me the information and maintains his casual posture behind the wheel.

“So why tell me this now? What does it matter who runs the retreats? They’ve been a tradition for centuries. I can’t imagine the LLC would change their purpose.” I respond, confusion filling me, and maybe some dread too.

“Because alliances within the LLC are shifting. We believe this retreat is being used to draw lines in alliances and eliminate threats in others.”

At that, he turns to look me in the eye.

“I’ve known you since you were born. I know that our pack needs your strength in its ranks. I don’t give a damn who ascends to Alpha. You’re the strongest wolf we’ve seen in decades. If a war is brewing, our pack will need you. So do us all a favor and don’t die.”

He turns his gaze back to the road, and I ponder the information.

He thinks there is going to be a war.

I wonder if it will begin before I can get Grace away from all of this. I have every intention of surviving this. I just don’t know how much it will matter to the pack when I do.

We pull off the highway at the next town, Grand Junction, if the signs are correct. So Colorado it is. That means we’ve been driving for over ten hours.

I spent the week leading up to the retreat memorizing the maps of the areas at Luca’s direction. I may not know everything, but I studied the areas of Utah and Colorado more extensively than the others in preparation for the challenges that lie ahead.

I grab a postcard in the gas station, so I have something to fill out for Grace, use the facilities, and buy myself a couple of hot dogs.

By the time I return to the truck, Frank’s back in his seat, irritation leaking into his scowl.

I tuck the postcard into my rucksack before climbing back into the cab and handing him a hot dog as a peace offering. He nods as he takes it, and as we head back on the road, some of his irritation at me fades.

An hour later, he reaches over and opens the glove box in front of me, producing a black canvas bag that he drops into my lap.

“Put it on. We’ll be at the meeting point in a moment. Remember what I told you. This year is different. The LLC is trying to pull the strings of this war, and they’re using this retreat to do it. Don’t trust anyone.”

I read the intention on his face, and the severity of his words has me logging that information for later as I pull the bag over my head, effectively cutting off my ability to see.

I feel the truck come to a stop, and the engine cuts off a few minutes later. Closing my eyes in the bag, I inhale, holding my breath for a moment before letting it out. I use the time I have to center myself. This training was made for me. My wolf is strong, but so am I. My ability to process information gave me an edge in all aspects they would be testing here.

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