Chloe Neill - Wild Things

“Jesus,” Luc said, eyes wide and excited. “Regan’s trailers.”

Damien smiled. “That’s what it sounds like to me. And I want in on the op.”

Luc reached out, offered Damien a hand. “Sir, that won’t be a problem.”

“I’ve scoped them out,” Jeff said, the overhead screen zeroing in on Lincoln Park and the Briarthorne development. He ducked to street level so quickly my stomach flipped as if I’d actually been diving toward it, and then he began to scan the neighborhood.

The houses were luxe, with large pools and enormous garages, both rarities in Chicago. Jeff panned the shot through the gate and up the street, past one large lot after another. The neighborhood was huge; they must have razed a lot of real estate to fit it in. Streets gave way to a small park crisscrossed by sidewalks.

“There,” Damien said, pointing at the two sleek trailers that sat at the end of the park.

“Ballsy of her to put down in the middle of the city,” Lindsey said. “And in the middle of the money and power.”

“Not all the money and power,” Luc snarked. “Merit’s parents live in Oak Park.”

“Har-har,” I said. “Not ballsy if it’s a gated community,” I added. “That gives her protection.”

Luc nodded. “And the cost of admission gives her resources and makes them believe they’re seeing an exciting and exclusive safari.”

“I’ll tell Malik and Ethan we’ve found her,” Luc said, picking up his phone.

“I’ll call Catcher and Mallory,” I offered, opting to give Jonah the night off. After all, we had an extra shifter.

• • •

By the time the entire crew was assembled, the Ops Room buzzed with energy and magic. Several vampires, two sorcerers, and two shifters. Jeff called Gabe to advise the Pack we’d found Regan’s menagerie, but they were still in Loring Park; waiting for them would have slowed us down. The longer we waited, the longer we risked she’d move again. And next time, we might not get so lucky.

The map of Briarthorne was still on-screen, giving everyone a sense of the location.

“Two trailers,” Luc said, pointing to the screen. “North end of the park, end to end. Jeff, Damien, Catcher, Mallory, Ethan, and Merit will go. We’ll stay here to keep an eye on the House just in case Regan decides she has a unique opportunity to test our security.” The idea was undoubtedly a good one, but he didn’t look thrilled about the idea of staying behind.

“Helen is preparing the ballroom for triage and shelter,” Ethan said. “Any sups who wish to come to the House can do so. We’ll have transportation at the park in order to get them here. We’ll also assist in reuniting them with their friends and families, wherever that might be.”

“And what about Regan?” Jeff asked. “At the risk of being grim, there are many, many people who will want a piece of her when all this is done.”

“They will,” Ethan agreed. “But our job is not to decide her fate.”

“When we’ve secured the sups,” Luc said, “we’ll call Detective Jacobs and advise she’s a suspect in the kidnapping of several supernaturals. That will keep her behind bars long enough.”

“She’s got magic. He may not want the responsibility.”

“The mayor created mechanisms to deal with Tate once upon a time,” Ethan pointed out. “They’ll deal with her, too.”

“We have a deal with the elves,” Damien said. “Taking Niera home, safe and sound. We’ll deliver her when they’re free.”

Luc nodded. “You get in, you free the sups, you contain Regan. And when it’s all done, you get a groovy sense of accomplishment, and we get Gabe and the elves off our backs. And probably dinner. I think Helen’s ordering pizza.”

Luc stood, braced his hands on the table, and looked us over one by one. “Be careful out there. And set phasers on awesome.”

Crickets chirped in the silence.

Lindsey shook her head and patted Luc’s hand. “Better luck next time, hon.”

• • •

It was late, and the neighborhood was mostly dark. We parked on the side opposite the trailers and made our approach, quietly, in the dark. The gates were black wrought iron, cresting to a point between two stone pillars. The streets beyond were quiet, dotted with ornate streetlamps.

I looked up at the gate, which had to be twelve feet tall. I was better with down than with up and didn’t want to fudge an ascent in front of my colleagues.

But a wrought-iron gate was no match for a Jeff Christopher. While we huddled in the darkness beside one of the pillars, Jeff pointed his magic tablet at the card reader notched into the stone until the light above flashed green and the gates swung open.

“Achievement unlocked,” I said with awe, and caught his flashing grin.

“I knew you were a gamer at heart,” he whispered.

We crept quietly through the gates and into the neighborhood.

“The park’s up the street and around the curve,” Jeff whispered, tucking the tablet away again. We stuck to the median that separated the parkway. The trees on the hillock were still empty of leaves, but they gave us a bit of a shield in case anyone bothered to look.

The road curved, and we followed it to a pretty park that took up a long ellipse between two sets of houses.

There, beneath the limbs of winter-bare trees, were two silver, gleaming trailers.

The faint vibration of magic hummed in the air.

“We do one trailer at a time,” Ethan said. “Merit, Mallory, Catcher, and I will go inside. Jeff, Damien will wait here; keep an eye out.”

When everyone nodded, we crept to the closest one, found the door at the end. Ethan hopped onto a step at the back of the truck, pulled down a giant silver handle, and pulled open the door.

Steps descended, and Catcher and I followed Ethan inside.

“Jesus,” Ethan muttered, making a motion across his chest as if to ward off the evil.

The car was divided in half by a passageway, with fluorescent lights running above. It was clean and white and smelled faintly of pine-scented cleaner. Each side of the car had been divided into containers arranged like small sleeping pods. Each pod held a supernatural. I recognized a harpy, a leprechaun, his skin faintly green, a giantess sitting in the largest of them. They wore clean blue scrubs and looked to be in good health, but their eyes were blank and they stared absently.

Tears pricked at my eyes, but I pushed them back. Now wasn’t the time to grieve for the years they’d lost. It was time to give them the rest of their lives.

I looked over the cases, realized who was missing. “Niera and Aline aren’t here.”

“There’s another trailer yet,” Catcher reminded me. “They could be in there.”

“Then let’s get started,” I said. I moved to the first cage and put a hand on the lock—a long silver pin inside a complicated twisting mechanism—but Catcher slammed a hand against the door before I could open it.

I looked at him, bewildered. “We have to let them out.”

“We will,” he calmly said. “But unlocking the doors right now won’t help. If they’re charmed into this kind of oblivion, they aren’t going to be able to run out of here when we open the doors. And they might be spelled to attack.”

“What do we do?” I asked.

Catcher looked at Ethan. “I’ll take this trailer. Mallory can take the other. We’ll unwind the spells, get them ready for release.” He looked at Mallory. “You remember how?”

“Yep,” she said, crossing her arms to hide the tremble in her fingers. But I’d rather have her afraid than cocky and dangerous any day.

Ethan nodded and we walked outside again, explained what we’d seen.

“Damien, stay with Catcher. Jeff, stay with Mallory. Keep them safe while we find Regan.”