Closing his eyes for a moment, Tybalt pinched the bridge of his nose. It was all he could do to curb his rising temper. He had half a mind to knock Marcus down and beat him until the entire story poured out in a single chunk, rather than in frustrating drips and drabs. Tybalt had worked so hard to ferret away his anger and hide his pain at losing the only relationships in his life that had mattered—until he found the Triads and new friendships that helped him thrive, that is. But Marcus had chipped into his careful control in only a few minutes.
Tybalt opened his eyes. “Okay, tell me what’s going on.”
Marcus nodded. “Seamus first became ill about a year ago, but he was able to hide his weakness. Only a careful few knew of it, and no one outside of the Alpha’s family discovered it until last week when he fainted during a Mating Ceremony. The challenge came soon after, which was five days ago, and a challenge must be answered within seven.”
Two days left to either produce Keenan or fight himself, weak from the Shadow and likely to die quickly in bloody battle. It would change the dynamics of the Pride—and not necessarily for the better—if leadership switched to a new bloodline.
“Keenan has not been seen since the death of his mate six weeks ago,” Marcus said.
Tybalt’s hand jerked and the invisible vise on his heart squeezed tighter. Astrid was dead. Until the notion occurred to him, he never realized how much he wanted to see her again. In the back of his mind, he’d always wanted to apologize.
Hellfire, and now it’s too late.
Marcus surprised him by touching his arm. “It wasn’t Astrid, Tybalt. I know they were promised, but they never Mated.”
The sense of relief he felt at a stranger’s death should not have hit him so strongly. He had only assumed that, as promised mates, Astrid and Keenan were joined, no matter what had happened between Astrid and Tybalt. As the male involved—human or not—Tybalt had been the one punished for their indiscretions. Punished with banishment from the Pride and his unceremonious return to life among humans.
“Is she alive?” Tybalt asked.
"Yes, she is. After you were gone, she was sent to our people in the north. Keenan no longer wanted her, and no other dominant male would have her."
Tybalt's heart ached. He had simply assumed she would be fine, that her life among the Pride would remain intact, because of her position with Keenan. He'd been wrong for so many years. "I ruined her." Speaking the words chilled him.
"No." Marcus's hold on his arm tightened. "No, Astrid would never have settled into life as the mate of an Alpha. She was too spirited. You knew my sister well. You know what I mean. She may have been sent away, but it freed her, brother. She is content in her new life."
"Is she happy?" He wasn't sure why he asked. Maybe it would ease the hurt of knowing he'd been the reason she was sent away from the city and her family.
Marcus didn't respond right away. "Are you happy?"
Tybalt flashed a wry smile. "I'm content. Why am I here?"
"Because I'm asking for your help, King of Cats. The challenger is the Bengal tiger called Prentiss. His bloodline held leadership once, but lost it seven generations ago to mine. Until now, no Bengal has dared challenge for position of Alpha."
He remembered Prentiss well. The Bengals had been the most vocal against him during Tybalt's early years with the Pride. They decried the notion of the Alpha's family raising a human orphan, until Seamus challenged the next protester to a blood match. Prentiss had been a schoolmate of theirs, and Tybalt still carried scars on his torso from their brawls.
Tybalt had never been fully accepted by the Pride, only by the members who mattered most to his heart--the members he betrayed by falling in love with Astrid. But Seamus had once saved the life of a starving infant, abandoned in a trash can hours after birth. It was time to repay the debt.
"Who was the last to see Keenan?" he asked Marcus.
"We aren't certain." Marcus's eyes gleamed, excited by the impending hunt. "After Keenan's mate Starla passed, he went to see his father. Seamus says they didn't speak. Keenan stayed for an hour and then left. His home was empty and some of his things had been taken. No one has admitted to knowing of his plans."
"He may have left town on his own to clear his head."
"We've considered the possibility, but he knew how sick Seamus was. Even in his grief, he was steadfast in his duty as the Alpha's son. He would have returned by now. The challenge has not been kept a secret among the other Clans. Word has spread."
"You think someone has him?"
"It's our working theory, and it's why I came to you. As a Hunter, you know the pulse of the city. You know what happens on the streets. It's unlikely the Bengals have held him themselves. They would be executed if such a crime was discovered."
"But they could have contracted out."
"Yes."
"And you want me to use my contacts and dig."
"Yes."
"Without anyone finding out and without the Alpha's blessing."
"Yes."
"All right."
Marcus started, as though surprised Tybalt had agreed so quickly. "You'll help?"
Tybalt nodded, his mind already whirring. It was pre-dawn Tuesday, and he had until the end of Thursday before his Triad went back on rotation. The statute of limitations on the challenge ended in two days. He wouldn't need to explain his absence to his boss.
"I'm off Triad rotation as of tonight," Tybalt said. "Give me three hours to do some digging. There's a coffee shop on Church Street, six blocks from here. Meet me there."
"All right. Be safe, brother."
"Always am." He clasped Marcus's hand in a friendly shake and met his adopted brother's eyes. A half-decade of regret stared back at him. Tybalt nodded, then walked away.
#
A handful of well-placed calls to fellow Hunters in various Triads and to a friendly were-coyote snitch had garnered a name and a potential bead on the Dregs holding Keenan. Tybalt brought the information to Sally's Coffee Shop half an hour before the scheduled meeting time, so he indulged in coffee, hash browns, and a Mexican omelet. He settled into a booth in the back of the narrow shop, facing the door, one of a dozen early-morning patrons, and dug into his greasy food.
He'd added a sugar pack to his third mug of burnt coffee when Marcus entered, trailed by a woman whose appearance sent a regiment of butterflies swirling through Tybalt's stomach. His courage fell to his shoes, and he barely managed to stand up and politely acknowledge Marcus first, and after him, Astrid.
She didn't seem to have changed physically--same long, black hair and golden eyes, sharp nose, narrow shoulders, and lean, tapered body. A few lines around her eyes hinted at age, and the gentle curve of toned muscles in her forearms told the tale of a more physical lifestyle. She carried herself like a predator, and not just because she was Felia. She'd been trained.
"Astrid," Tybalt said. At least this voice was not as dumbfounded as his brain. "Marcus didn't--"
"I made him bring me," she said.
He considered shaking her hand and ruled it out as being too awkward. A hug was too intimate. She seemed to sense his indecision and slid into the booth without prompting. Marcus sat next to her.
Tybalt waited until the waitress plunked down two more mugs of coffee before imparting his information. "I may know who's been babysitting the missing package," he said while the two were-jaguars fixed their coffee to taste.
"Who?" Marcus asked.
"Four Halfies have been taking turns sitting on something for the last six days. One of them was bragging about snacking on a big cat and a huge payday when their boss got what he wanted."
Marcus and Astrid were twin pictures of tension and anger. They didn't have to tear apart the information. It fit with Keenan's disappearance. The kidnapper's biggest mistake was trusting secrecy to a quartet of half-Blood vampires, whose combined brain power probably added up to the wattage of a flashlight bulb. Halfies made good muscle-for-hire, but their critical thinking capacities were severely limited, due to the influence of the infectious vampire parasite that turned them. Using half-Bloods was sloppy.
"How good is your intel?" Astrid asked.
"I trust my sources." He didn't need to tell them this information had come from the coyote. The Felia and Cania Clans were not friendly. "I also have a name that's come up in a couple of Triad investigations related to Halfies. Does Howard Castle ring any bells?" Blank looks answered him. "He frequently deals in street drugs, but he's been known to organize underground fights between Halfies. Puts them in a cage and lets them tear each other apart while people bet on a winner."
"Has he expanded his repertoire to kidnapping?" Marcus asked.
"He knows Halfies. If someone was looking to hire out, they could reasonably go to Castle, and he'd put them into contact with Halfies old enough to be somewhat in control of their infection and able to follow orders."
"So we take our questions to Howard Castle," Astrid said. "And we encourage him to tell us who these Halfies are and where they are hiding the package."
Tybalt gave her a sour look. "We?"
She bristled, a hardness in her eyes that hadn't existed a moment ago. "You aren't the only one who's grown up, Tybalt. You don't need to protect me any longer. No male does."
The curt words surprised him. The Astrid he remembered had never spoken back to a dominant male--not in his presence, at least.
"Do you know where to find Castle?" Marcus asked.
"As a matter of fact, I do." Tybalt sucked down the rest of coffee, savoring the burn. He didn't particularly want Astrid around until he knew the extent of her training. He'd seen Marcus fight, both as human and jaguar, but never her. He needed to believe she could defend herself if people got testy. He tossed some money on the table and said, "Let's go."
#
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