Page 68 of Bad Blood Wolf

“What the hell,” Xander muttered.

They spread out at Flynn’s orders, all with their handguns, ready to shift at a moment’s notice. Flynn took the front door, and Sloan and Xander the ripped-out wall.

Flynn gave the signal, and they ducked inside. Xander and Sloan checked the living room and the bedroom. There were splashes of blood and multiple scents, but no bodies.

“Clear,” Sloan said.

“I got someone up here,” Flynn called back.

They joined him in the front of the trailer, by the tiny kitchen. There was a young black woman on the floor. Fox shifter, by the scent.

Flynn was helping her sit up. She looked groggy, but basically uninjured.

“They took her,” she mumbled. “They took them all.”

“Who took them?” Flynn demanded. His voice was gentle, but his alpha presence pressed down, compelling a response.

“Men,” she said. “A wolf, and a bunch of men in black ski masks. Humans, I think. Or shifters with no fur scent.”

The Bad Bloods glanced at each other. “Hunters,” Xander muttered. Sloan growled.

“Did you hear where they were taking them?”

She shook her head. “I saw… a van. Black. That’s all.”

“Did they take them both?” Flynn asked. “Brody and the jaguar?”

“And Adele,” she said. “Brody’s ma.”

They exchanged glances again.

“Fuck,” Flynn muttered. “We don’t even know who we’re dealing with here. We’ve got nothing.”

He helped the woman off the floor and into the living room, onto a love seat that had been shredded by animal claws.

“Is there someone we can call for you?” Sloan asked.

He handed over his phone, and the woman sent a text. A moment later there was a reply. “My friend is coming,” she said.

Flynn was pacing. “They could be taking them anywhere,” he said. “Dammit!”

Xander’s phone chirped.

He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at it, went to put it away, and then did a double-take.

“Flynn,” he said. “Remember that tracker you put on Brody’s car? It’s just been activated.”

Flynn frowned. “The car’s here,” he said.

“The tracker’s not.”

Flynn strode over and pulled the phone out of his hand. “Sonovabitch,” he muttered, a crooked grin creeping onto his face. “That’s my girl.”

He started for the door, then paused, looking at Yolanda.

“Go,” she said. “My friend will be here any minute.”

Flynn pulled his phone and dialed Tank.

“You got them?” Tank asked.

“They’ve been taken,” he said. “Hunters. But we’ve got tracking.”

He could hear Tank swearing. Then he asked, “Sure it’s not a trap?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Flynn replied. “We still know where they are. It’s all we need.”

“Lissa and I are on our way,” Tank said. “And we have company. How much firepower should we bring?”

“All of it,” Flynn said. “And isn’t it a good thing I didn’t let you put the fucking Christmas tree on top of the weapons locker?”