Bailey Bradford - Southwestern Shifters 08 - Revenge by Bailey Bradford Page B
Authors: Bailey Bradford
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remain free when we’ve been looking for him. Doesn’t mean it is him, necessarily. There are still other shifters not thrilled with a gay Alpha Anax.”
“There’ll always be shifters unhappy with whoever is in this position,” Marcus pointed out. “Can’t please everyone. Can’t kill them all, either. Makes the survivors nervous.”
Nathan barely held back a laugh as Keegan’s head shot up, his eyes rounding and just huge until he caught on to the fact that Marcus was joking. “Oh, ha ha,” he grumbled, but he smiled just a little and Nathan knew that had been Marcus’ goal.
Nathan took a sip of his coffee and almost moaned. It was perfectly made, strong and hot enough to scald his tongue. Marcus looked to be in a coffee-induced state of bliss too, his eyes closing as he savoured his first sip.
“Oh, oh, this is heavenly,” Marcus said before taking another drink.
“Shelby makes the best coffee,” Keegan mumbled. “Look. Is this a footprint?”
Nathan and Marcus both moved around to look at the screen. It wasn’t as awful as the picture had been on the phone because Keegan had cropped out the gorier parts.
Keegan pointed at a spot and Nathan stared so hard his eyes started to ache. “It looks like one. Not a very big one.”
“But not Little Joe’s,” Marcus said. “That’s the right foot, and Little Joe was missing his pinky toe on that foot.”
“Maybe this is a woman after all.” Keegan clicked on the screen, making the image bigger but blurrier. “Damn it. I need to open up the programme I have for pictures. It can clear some of this up.”
“I still think it’s a man. I think it’s a man, and he doesn’t have to be big to be deadly.” Marcus rubbed his belly and Nathan had to agree. Drake had been small. “I could be wrong, of course. Let’s see what else we can figure out.”
After an hour of poring over each picture, they had little more to go on. The cave was almost certainly one in the nearby mountains, and Keegan already planned to send out groups of guards to scour them, looking for Little Joe’s remains. They did concede that Marcus was right.
In the picture where the shirt sleeve was seen, so was a strip of flesh. The forearm was covered in dense, red-gold hair. They agreed they had seen some hairy women throughout their lives, but never one as hairy as that.
“Let’s try to get some sleep, then in a few hours, we’ll send out the guards. Keegan, take the couch.”
Marcus was really taking the danger seriously, keeping Keegan there with them, though Nathan knew part of the reason for that was because Keegan had been in such a state earlier.
It still helped him to sleep a little better.
* * * *
Marcus couldn’t sleep no matter how much he tried to relax. Someone had slaughtered poor Little Joe, and carved him up to act as a message board for Marcus. It sickened him and enraged him. He wanted to get his hands on the shifter who’d done it. He wanted the fucker dead, after suffering for a very long time.
Normally Marcus wasn’t one for revenge, preferring to remain on the side of justice. If at times that called for another death, he kept his emotions out of it. Every challenger he’d killed, he’d regretted to an extent. That kind of fire and boldness would have been a strong asset had he been able to sway his opponents into submission.
This person, whoever he was—Marcus would enjoy killing him. The sooner the better, too, because he couldn’t help but feel Nathan might be in danger. If the goal was to hurt Marcus, his mate was obviously his weak spot.
There wasn’t anything weak about Nathan. He could defend himself well enough, but just as Marcus would give his life for Nathan, so Nathan would die for him. He never wanted it to come to that, and if he thought for one second he could get Nathan to agree to go away, he’d have begged.
But Nathan wouldn’t leave him, not now or ever. It made Marcus proud even as it increased his concern. Nothing could happen to
“There’ll always be shifters unhappy with whoever is in this position,” Marcus pointed out. “Can’t please everyone. Can’t kill them all, either. Makes the survivors nervous.”
Nathan barely held back a laugh as Keegan’s head shot up, his eyes rounding and just huge until he caught on to the fact that Marcus was joking. “Oh, ha ha,” he grumbled, but he smiled just a little and Nathan knew that had been Marcus’ goal.
Nathan took a sip of his coffee and almost moaned. It was perfectly made, strong and hot enough to scald his tongue. Marcus looked to be in a coffee-induced state of bliss too, his eyes closing as he savoured his first sip.
“Oh, oh, this is heavenly,” Marcus said before taking another drink.
“Shelby makes the best coffee,” Keegan mumbled. “Look. Is this a footprint?”
Nathan and Marcus both moved around to look at the screen. It wasn’t as awful as the picture had been on the phone because Keegan had cropped out the gorier parts.
Keegan pointed at a spot and Nathan stared so hard his eyes started to ache. “It looks like one. Not a very big one.”
“But not Little Joe’s,” Marcus said. “That’s the right foot, and Little Joe was missing his pinky toe on that foot.”
“Maybe this is a woman after all.” Keegan clicked on the screen, making the image bigger but blurrier. “Damn it. I need to open up the programme I have for pictures. It can clear some of this up.”
“I still think it’s a man. I think it’s a man, and he doesn’t have to be big to be deadly.” Marcus rubbed his belly and Nathan had to agree. Drake had been small. “I could be wrong, of course. Let’s see what else we can figure out.”
After an hour of poring over each picture, they had little more to go on. The cave was almost certainly one in the nearby mountains, and Keegan already planned to send out groups of guards to scour them, looking for Little Joe’s remains. They did concede that Marcus was right.
In the picture where the shirt sleeve was seen, so was a strip of flesh. The forearm was covered in dense, red-gold hair. They agreed they had seen some hairy women throughout their lives, but never one as hairy as that.
“Let’s try to get some sleep, then in a few hours, we’ll send out the guards. Keegan, take the couch.”
Marcus was really taking the danger seriously, keeping Keegan there with them, though Nathan knew part of the reason for that was because Keegan had been in such a state earlier.
It still helped him to sleep a little better.
* * * *
Marcus couldn’t sleep no matter how much he tried to relax. Someone had slaughtered poor Little Joe, and carved him up to act as a message board for Marcus. It sickened him and enraged him. He wanted to get his hands on the shifter who’d done it. He wanted the fucker dead, after suffering for a very long time.
Normally Marcus wasn’t one for revenge, preferring to remain on the side of justice. If at times that called for another death, he kept his emotions out of it. Every challenger he’d killed, he’d regretted to an extent. That kind of fire and boldness would have been a strong asset had he been able to sway his opponents into submission.
This person, whoever he was—Marcus would enjoy killing him. The sooner the better, too, because he couldn’t help but feel Nathan might be in danger. If the goal was to hurt Marcus, his mate was obviously his weak spot.
There wasn’t anything weak about Nathan. He could defend himself well enough, but just as Marcus would give his life for Nathan, so Nathan would die for him. He never wanted it to come to that, and if he thought for one second he could get Nathan to agree to go away, he’d have begged.
But Nathan wouldn’t leave him, not now or ever. It made Marcus proud even as it increased his concern. Nothing could happen to
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