Page 72 of The Devil's Ice

Chapter Twenty-two

Wolf was just dropping off to sleep on the floor – he’d learned to grab a nap when Charlie and Judge were sleeping – when he heard footsteps approaching.

Right away, he was on his feet, standing between the babies sprawled across the bed and the door. It was where he’d placed himself over and over, anytime any one of those Hellions fuckers showed up for any reason at all. He was ready for whatever was coming through the door now: another beating, another round of threats against the babies, another truly disgusting meal, another taunting session where Viper or Preacher or Animal regaled him with horror stories about what was happening to his brothers and their loved ones back in Denver.

Except, as it turned out, hewasn’tready. At all.

The door opened and Wolf felt his hackles literally rise, his entire body tensed up for a fight to the death. The man standing there was incredibly familiar to him, of course – every single man in the MC world knew aboutthisguy. He was respected and feared, and for good fucking reason. The man had disposed of God-only-knew how many enemies without even touching them, without even being in the same goddamn room as them. Sometimes, not even the samecity, the samestate. He was a master of his alchemical craft, and if he was here now, then Wolf had no chance. Not even a prayer.

A beating or weapon he could see coming at him; fists and feet he could put up a fight against; what this guy could do,nobodyever saw coming.

I’m sorry, little ones. I don’t think I can keep you safe fromthismonster, but I’ll die tryin’, I promise you that.

Bones looked over at Wolf, a bit shocked at the man’s appearance: the strain of his imprisonment hadn’t diminished Wolf’s fierce glare, but he’d certainly lost weight. He was scruffy and his hair was wild, but the room was actually spotlessly clean and organized. Bones saw neat little piles of baby clothes, blankets, what looked like formula and bottles next to a small kettle.

He stared at the man, saw the twins sleeping on the bed behind him. He knew that Wolf was gearing up to protect them, if he could, and from the look of his face – the bruises blooming black and purple all over it – Wolf had been fighting for a while.

“Wolf.” Bones nodded at him, keeping his distance. No sense starting things off on the wrong foot, not when this was actually a rescue mission.

“Bones.”

“I’m not here to hurt you, not any of you,” Bones said.

“No?”

“No.” Bones held out his hands. “I’m here to get you all out.”

“The fuck you say.” Wolf narrowed those stormy gray eyes. “You’re the fuckin’definitionof a club man, Gallagher. Why the hell would you be helpin’ the enemy?”

“OK, look.” Bones slowly reached into his pocket, produced a phone. “I’ll get Scars on the line for you. He’ll tell you that it’s all arranged between us, and that he knows what’s going on.”

“I ain’t movin’ one inch towards you,” Wolf snarled. “And I ain’t touchin’nothin’ that you give me.”

“Ah. Of course.” Bones nodded in total understanding of the other man’s thought process. “Transference.”

“I ain’t totally sure what the fuck that is,” Wolf said crisply. “But I remember you killin’ a whole bunch of those Washington boys by puttin’ somethin’ on the front door handles of their homes. Soon as they touched whatever it was, it went right into their skin and poisoned them. Took days and it tortured them – but they were fuckin’ good and dead when it was all over.”

“Huh. I haven’t thought aboutthatjob in a while,” Bones said. “That was – what? Ten years ago?”

“I don’t know,” Wolf snapped, clearly not interested in joining him for a saunter down memory lane. “But what Idoknow is I ain’t touchin’nothin’ you try to hand me. You call Scars, and you put him on speaker, and you stay right the fuck over there.”

“OK, fair enough.”

Bones pressed the ‘1’ button in his saved contacts, then put the phone on speaker; the men heard ringing, and then a voice:

“Bones?”

“Scars,” Wolf said in shock, wondering if he was hallucinating. “That you, man? For real?”

“Holyfuck,” Scars blurted, and Wolf heard him talking to someone. “I’m putting you on speaker, Wolf, so everyone can hear you.”

There was a click, then dead air for a second, then a hum.

“You still there, Wolf?”

“Yeah, Scars, I’m here. Me and the babies.”

“Are they OK?” came a voice that was either Dux or Drake. “Are they hurt?”

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