“You would be correct.” He examined his fingernails. “Your human is quite the spirited one. Smaller than I expected. That red hair, though… You have exquisite taste, Diablo.”
He ran his tongue across his teeth, disappointment souring his mood. This wasn’t going according to plan. Diablo should be raging, threatening, giving Rico the satisfaction of hearing him unravel. Instead, his control remained intact. Disappointing.
“How are those beasts of yours doing?” he asked, his voice honeyed with false concern. “Still locked up tight inside you? Must be maddening, having them claw at you from the inside.”
Through the phone’s speaker, he heard Diablo’s controlled breathing, steady inhales and exhales that betrayed nothing.
“Meet me at the warehouse. You remember the place,” he said, irritation creeping into his otherwise calm tone. “Midnight. Come alone. Any sign of your pack, and your little redhead loses fingers. One by one.”
“Rico.”
“What?” he snapped, composure slipping for just a moment.
“El diablo está a punto de descender sobre ti.”
The line went dead.
Chapter Ten
In the moonlight, Diablo remained crouched in the grass, boots soundless on the damp ground. The pack of wolves spread out around him, slipping toward the warehouse with Matias’s signals leading them.
Same warehouse where he’d woken up hanging by a hook. Same place he’d seen those mutilated bodies. And now Brett was inside of that warehouse of horrors. His mate. His everything.
Diablo should’ve burned it down. A mistake he was going to rectify.
Matias moved silently ahead, his form barely visible in the darkness. Behind Diablo, pack members spread out in formation. Matias raised his fist, halting their advance. His amber eyes scanned the area. Ahead, the grass gave way to gravel. Moving across that open space would expose them.
With two quick gestures, he directed four pack members toward the roof. Santiago nodded once, face grim in the darkness, then disappeared around the side with the other three. Miguel led another group left, disappearing into deeper shadows.
Sweat trickled down Diablo’s temple as he advanced through grass that whispered against his jeans. Every second felt like hours while Brett remained inside. His claws extended involuntarily, digging into dirt beneath him. Control. He needed absolute control right now.
Above them, Santiago and his men had reached the roof, their silhouettes briefly visible against the night sky before vanishing from sight. Another signal sent six more men to surround the building’s west side.
Warm night air filled Diablo’s lungs as he inhaled deeply, catching the scent of hyenas—rancid and unmistakable. His nostrils flared, searching for Brett’s familiar scent among the mix of odors. Nothing yet.
Matias pressed a palm against his chest, a silent command to wait. Patience had never been his strength, but Brett’s life depended on him following orders.
Around the corner of the warehouse, a figure emerged. Not Rico. Taller, broader across the shoulders. The hyena moved with casual confidence, scanning the darkness as he walked the perimeter.
Tomas slid forward through the grass like liquid shadow. Not a blade bent beneath his weight as he positioned himself behind the path of the approaching hyena.
The guard paused, head lifting as he sensed something wrong. Too late. Tomas erupted from the grass, one hand clamping over the hyena’s mouth while claws drove deep into the guard’s throat. The hyena went still. Tomas quietly lowered the body to the ground, wiping his bloodied claws on the dead man’s shirt.
Diablo walked straight for the side door, yanking it open to a loud creak. The interior was completely dark, but he could see everything. Same stench, same dripping water, same nightmare. Only now, Brett was involved.
A scuff of shoes against concrete to his left. Diablo turned, claws extended, a snarl in his throat.
“Quite the entrance.” Rico’s voice slithered from the shadows before he stepped into view. Impeccable suit, not a hair out of place. The picture of calm control. “I knew you’d come.”
“Where is he?”
Moonlight glinted off the tranquiller gun in his hand, aimed directly at Diablo’s chest. The hyena's eyes glinted with malice, a thin smile stretching his lips.
“Safe, for now.” Rico circled him slowly, keeping distance between them. “That can change very quickly.”
“What do you want?” Diablo ground out, tracking Rico’s movements. His beasts slammed against their cages, snarling for freedom, fighting to rip the bastard apart.
“I want what’s inside you.” Rico’s eyes gleamed in the dim light. “You see, that lovely little cocktail we injected you with? You’re the only one who has survived it.”