"He looks like a monster," Gervais said, once he'd regained corporeality. "Sebastian has neglected himself and smells horrible."

"Does the human have weapons?" Paul asked softly.

"We didn't see any," Henri replied. "He is a sheep, completely under Sebastian's control."

"He was a petty criminal before this," Paul said. "Now, he will bear the brunt of all the killings."

"He will spend the rest of his days in prison. We will not allow the true killer that luxury," Gavin growled. Paul nodded his understanding.

The combined forces made their way quietly toward the house. Sebastian and his slave were huddled in the dirt cellar of the tiny, stone dwelling. Gavin silently opened the hidden trap door and let himself down. Merrill and Rolfe followed closely behind.

* * *

"Where's the van?" Weldon surveyed the parking lot. They'd stopped at a restaurant for breakfast and now the van wasn't where they'd left it.

"Fuck!" Winkler shouted, turning a circle in the empty space. Davis pulled out his cell and dialed the police.

* * *

"I have the van and all the bags," Elias Garber spoke into the pre-paid cell phone he carried.

"Good." Karl Johnson was pacing inside his downtown Dallas hotel suite. "As soon as you hit the New Mexico border, stop and open every one of those bags, got it? I want everything exposed to daylight. No matter what you see, under no circumstances are you to close any of those bags up again, you understand?" Karl was barking orders over the phone. He'd spent years intimidating prosecutors and witnesses alike inside the courtroom and he was used to being obeyed. Winkler was going down and Karl's daughter and grandchildren would inherit the Winkler Empire. Karl smiled as he terminated the call.

"What the f**k is he talking about?" Elias grumbled to himself, tossing the cell into the passenger seat. He would be well paid for this bit of thievery, however, so he turned his mind to what he might do with the money and kept driving.

* * *

Sebastian was a crazed fiend, slashing Stephan across the chest, along with causing minor injuries to some of the others as he fought them off. Paul and his werewolf companions quickly captured the human slave, who cowered away from the swift and vicious fighting among the vampires. Weeping and drooling as they held him, the human stared in blank-eyed fright as Paul and his companions pulled him away. The werewolves were satisfied to watch as the vampires worked to contain the rogue—the beastly hulk had burst from the cellar with a roar, attempting to fight all who'd come to capture him.

"Hold and stand," Merrill thundered, placing a strong enough compulsion to break any coherent mind once he'd caught Sebastian's gaze. Sebastian was no longer coherent but Merrill's compulsion held. Sebastian halted in his tracks, wavering a little at the sudden cease of movement in the empty field outside the cottage.

"Chain him," Merrill commanded. Rolfe and Gavin took the chains that Brock held, fastening them around Sebastian's neck, wrists, waist and ankles. "You may blink," Merrill said. Sebastian blinked. "Now, follow this one," Merrill placed Gavin before Sebastian. Rolfe and Radomir walked at Sebastian's side; the two misters came behind. Gavin led the way to the waiting vehicles as Merrill hung back to speak with Paul and his werewolf companions.

"We owe you," Merrill nodded to them. "If you need assistance with this one or with anything else that doesn't violate our laws, contact us through the email you have. Someone will answer." Merrill jerked his head at the blank-eyed human.

"I am grateful that your female went to the Grand Master and asked him to help with this," Paul said. "He informed me that she is Pack, along with being one of yours. I would never have gone outside my jurisdiction otherwise. I had to take vacation time to do this but as you can see, it was well worth it."

"If you need reimbursement, contact this number," Merrill said, handing over a business card with his solicitor's name and phone number printed across the front.

Paul snorted. "This is my reimbursement," he nodded toward the blond man. "The children are safer tonight."

"Yes, they are," Merrill agreed, turning to follow the other vampires.

* * *

"What the f**k do you mean, somebody stole the van?" Tony Hancock wanted to tear his hair out by the roots. Winkler called him after local police had been less than sympathetic over a stolen van and luggage. They had murderers and more important things to deal with, they'd pointed out. Winkler couldn't tell them it was a kidnapping and possible murder, along with the theft. How could you explain to the police that the thief had taken a bag containing a female vampire?

"We stopped for breakfast and it was gone when we came out," Winkler knew his words were weak. They should have driven straight home, but the lure of steak and eggs was too great at his favorite breakfast restaurant.

"Do you have the tag number? Anything to identify it?" Tony was brusque as he asked pertinent questions.

Winkler rattled off the tag number and a description of the van, realizing it might not help much. Nothing prevented the thief from covering Winkler Security decals or removing or changing tags. And if Lissa wasn't found, either Davis or Trajan would be forced to fight come Wednesday night. Winkler didn't want that to happen. Karl was consistently tight-lipped over the approaching challenge and that spelled one thing to Winkler—Kellee's father had paid a fighter and was waiting to reveal him at the challenge. There were a few mercenaries in the werewolf world—those that specialized in gaining a Pack for any challenger who might afford their services. If Winkler's Second, temporary or otherwise, lost the confrontation, Winkler's continued existence would be at the mercy of the New Dallas Packmaster—Kellee's father Karl Johnson. Weldon was there to enforce Pack law and Winkler would be a dead wolf, leaving Kellee and his unborn children as heirs to his empire. Winkler growled just thinking about it. He wondered if this had been Kellee's intent all along, with Karl pushing her, of course.

"I'll get people on this," Tony said, bringing Winkler back to earth. "I'll hand the information to the Texas Highway Patrol and the Dallas FBI office," he added. "We'll keep you posted." Tony hung up. Winkler was back to cursing again.

* * *

"You've lost my Pack member?" Thomas Williams was incredulous as Winkler paced inside his spacious kitchen.

"The van was stolen," Winkler growled. Weldon wasn't speaking to him now and neither was Davis. Thomas Williams was about to join that growing crowd.




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