Van, Becca - The Love of Three [Elite Dragons 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (12 page)

“Okay, let’s try this again. What are you picking up, Bronsin?”

“I can’t tell you specifically, but there is someone here that doesn’t fit.”

“How long have you felt that?”

“Just since I woke up.”

“That doesn’t make sense, bro. No one else but the team came back with us.”

“You think I don’t know that!” Bronsin exploded and then cringed. He looked toward Alicia, but she was still out. Stedman saw pain and worry flash across his brother’s face and knew he was just as concerned about her as he was.

“Sorry. I can’t even explain what I’m feeling. I just know that there is someone on this property that shouldn’t be here. I’ve tried lowering my shields, but if somebody wanted to hide way out by the woods, I wouldn’t be able to detect them.”

“Not unless they’re one of these people who can broadcast over long distances,” Ward pointed out.

“Seriously, bro? Do you really think we’d get that lucky?”

“Do you think they could have tracked us? You know I would have noticed if we had a tail.”

“What the hell is going on?” Coulter asked as he entered the infirmary. “What the fuck happened, and why didn’t one of you come and get me?”

“I suggest you all leave so you don’t disturb Alicia,” Wolf said calmly. “When you’ve figured out whatever the hell you’re trying to figure out, then you can come back.”

“Call us if there’s any change,” Stedman commanded and followed Coulter from the room with his brothers at his heels.

They assembled in the meeting room, just down the hall from the infirmary. The rest of the Elite Dragons had assembled there already. Coulter turned to Stedman and his brothers, his arms folded across his chest. “Okay, now that the whole team is here, let’s hear it.”

Ward explained how he had found Alicia. When he was finished, Bronsin told how he had lowered his shield just before she had passed out.

“You’re leaving something out,” Trace stated to Bronsin. “What is it?”

“I have had a feeling ever since I woke up that there is someone here that shouldn’t be.”

“You didn’t feel like that before you left?” Corbin asked.

“No, and don’t ask me to explain, because I can’t.” Bronsin sighed with frustration.

“We haven’t hired any new hands, and there’s no one else besides us and the women,” Trace speculated. “You’re not suggesting…”

“No. Fuck, I know it’s none of us or the females, but there is someone here that shouldn’t be.”

“Okay, I trust your instinct, Bronsin,” Coulter said. “I want round-the-clock security. No one is to leave or enter this property. From this moment on we are in lockdown. Close the gates and arm the perimeter alarms. All the women are to stay indoors, and I think it would be best if we did another check on the hands. There are only two I would trust with my life.

“Once Wolf has finished patching Alicia up, get her home and into bed. The only time the women leave your homes is for meals. Keep your eyes peeled, keep your weapons on you at all times, and stay alert. Okay, you can go.”

Stedman hung back even as the room began to clear out. The idea of there being a stranger on the stud, or one of the hands turning on them, troubled him deeply. He barely noticed that Trace was trying to get his attention until the other man thumped his back.

“You need some work to clear your mind,” Trace said. “Come down and help me check the trucks. Nothing like a couple of hours of checking tire pressure and changing out oil filters to settle your thoughts.”

The routine post-trip vehicle checks were mind-numbingly boring, but Stedman saw the wisdom of that suggestion. “Sure,” he said. “But can you wait a sec?”

“Sure. Go check on your woman. I’ll wait for you on the deck.”

Stedman rushed down the hall to the infirmary. His concern grew when he saw Alicia was still out cold. Even he knew that the longer she was unconscious the more danger there was.

“How is she?” he asked Wolf.

“She’s holding her own, but she definitely has a concussion. If she doesn’t wake up soon we might have to fly her out.”

“Fuck! Do you think she has brain damage?”

“I can’t tell you that, man. I don’t have the right equipment to explore further. Her pupils are responsive but sluggish. I’ve cleaned her wound and sutured it. I also gave her another shot of antibiotics to help fight off infection, as well as a mild painkiller. Now, we wait.”

He turned back to Alicia and leant down to kiss her cheek. Just as he was about to stand up straight, she moved her arm and caressed his cheek with her fingers.

“Sted…” she sighed and drifted back to sleep.

“Hey, this is good, man.” Wolf smiled at him. “You can go do what you have to and not worry. It may take a few days, but Alicia is going to get better.”

“Thank God.”

Stedman caressed her cheek and turned toward the door. Bronsin and Ward were leaning against the wall, and even though they were both smiling, he could see the tears of relief in their eyes.

“Look after her.”

“We will,” Ward replied. “Do you want some help?”

“Nah, Trace and I can handle it.”

Stedman met Trace out on the deck. With a nod, they headed toward the shed where they stored their vehicles. He opened the side door. The interior of the shed was empty, but Stedman made a point of scanning thoroughly before he entered. Satisfied that they were alone, he got down to business. While Trace opened the hood of the truck, Stedman crawled underneath to check the undercarriage. He started from the front underneath and worked his way down, shining his flashlight into every nook and cranny under the truck while Trace searched from the top. As he got to the axle between the rear wheels, the flash of a shiny piece of metal caught his eye. Scooting closer, he lifted his head and peered into the hollow near the wheel ball joint.
Shit, we’ve been tracked.
And snagged on the edge of the device was a blue thread.

Picking up the device, he crawled out from beneath the vehicle. Trace had just got out of the driver’s seat, and when he looked at him, Stedman showed him the device.

“Fuck!” Trace mouthed and then tapped his ear.

He knew Trace was asking if the device was also a bug, but unless he opened it up, he couldn’t answer. Giving a shrug, he indicated that they should keep looking in case there were more devices concealed on the truck. Crawling back underneath, he went over the bottom again. Not finding anything else, Stedman began to go over the body, while Trace still worked on the interior.

When they were done, Trace had two more devices in his hand.

Trace held out a hand for the one Stedman had found. He lined up all three on the cement floor of the shed and then selected a heavy wrench from the toolbox. Three quick blows split open each of the devices in turn. By the time Trace was done, there were only metal and plastic fragments.

“Any idea on when they were planted?” Trace asked as he picked up the now-demolished pieces.

“It had to have been while we were in Miles City or in the motel in Billings,” Stedman hypothesized. “Bryden and his brothers were hiding in the truck when we went in to rescue the women. They only came out when we needed the bolt cutters to release the women from the chains.”

“They stayed in the motel in Miles City, too, didn’t they?”

“Yes.”

“Shit, I don’t like this,” Trace said.

“Me either.” Stedman’s thoughts whirled, but everything was clicking into place. “All those fucking hints about where Jones is…that was a trail they made to lure us off the stud.”

“So that they could place the devices.” Trace nodded. “What about the women?”

“I doubt they wanted us to find the women. The evidence we found should have taken us to that barn, after all, but I think we arrived earlier than they imagined. That was all Bronsin’s doing. No, all they wanted was for us to wander around Montana so they could get a tracking device in place. I think the guys we took out in their last attack on the stud weren’t able to pass on our location before we took them down.”

And follow us back.
He looked out of the door of the shed, feeling chilled.

“They must have known we were coming,” Trace said. “Someone at the top is giving them help.”

Within their own organization? Stedman balked at the thought, but he had to admit that none of them were ever in touch with their superiors apart from formal reports. They wouldn’t know if there was someone there who meant them harm. “One of our handlers has gone dirty. It would have to be someone with access to our assignments but not our location,” he said.

Trace nudged the fragments of the tracking devices with the toe of his boot. “Our location seems to be what they’re after.”

“What would make someone we’ve trusted turn?” Stedman mumbled. “Don’t answer that, it was rhetorical. I already have the answer. Greed and power.”

“If they’re involved with the black-market organ smuggling, it’s also safe to say they’re a sick fucking psycho.”

“But who?”

“If I knew that answer, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. We’d better go in and tell the others.”

Stedman followed Trace inside. Even though they had found the tracking devices, neither of them had seen any trace of anyone lurking around, but Stedman believed Bronsin when he said there was someone here who didn’t belong. What scared him most was that if Bronsin couldn’t get a read on whoever was out there, then the rest of them didn’t have a hope in hell.

Chapter Ten

Alicia felt like she was living in a fog. She could hear voices but couldn’t understand what they were saying. Hands touched her often. They bathed her, brushed her hair, changed her clothes, and even gave her sips of water, but she had no idea who they were.

Those hands shook her awake regularly, and whoever was the owner of those limbs asked her the stupidest questions, but they were persistent and wouldn’t leave her alone until she answered satisfactorily.

It felt like days before the pain in her head stopped slamming against her skull and simmered down to a low ache, and she had thrown up so many times her stomach muscles were sore, but finally the haze began to lift. Opening her eyes to slits, she glanced around the bedroom, thankful the curtains were closed and only muted light seeped in around the edges of the material. Sighing with weariness, she turned onto her side and came up against a large, hard body.

Gingerly lifting her head, she squinted at the face on the pillow next to her. Bronsin slept deeply beside her. Frowning because she still found it hard to concentrate, she remembered there was an urgency to get him to wake up.

Placing her hand on his chest, she tried to get his attention by pushing against him. “Bronsin,” she croaked then tried to clear her dry, rusty throat and took another shot at speaking. “Bronsin, you have to wake up.”

His eyes snapped open, and he appeared to be way more alert than she was.

“Alicia! Thank God, darlin’.” He gently helped her to lie back down and wrapped his arms around her. “We’ve been so worried about you.”

“What? No,” she sighed, “worried about you.”

“Alicia, can you stay awake, darlin’? Wolf needs to check you over.”

“What for? I’m fine. I just need to sleep this headache off.”

“Stedman, call Wolf,” Bronsin yelled.

“Did you have to yell right in my ear? I already told you I’ve got a headache. I don’t need Wolf for a simple headache.”