Splinter - 1. Breadcrumbs

"Jon, you have a call from Salt Lake City," my soon-to-be daughter-in-law told me as she poked her head in my office. I was poring over a few official papers that came in from the North American Lycan Council. They pretty much told me what every alpha knew: The NALC was useless. We all knew it, but this latest thing, a rogue group picking on the smaller packs and the incidents being called "a waste of funds and resources," was nothing we hadn't come to expect from any form of government. The only reason I had these papers was that the former Alpha for the East Coast Pack, former Beta for Homestead Pack, and my father-in-law (all the same person) was going to be on the Council and kept us in the loop. Not that the body of the Council did shit, but they wanted to look official.

"Thanks, Heather," I replied and picked up the phone. "This is Jon Davenport."

"Alpha Davenport, this is Beta Levi Hawkins from Salt Lake City Pack."

I had met Beta Hawkins a few times. Not enough for us to be friendly but enough to be recognizable. Dependable, that was the word that came to mind when I thought of Levi. There were worse traits. Mouthy, like my own betas, but I wouldn't change them for the world. "Levi, good to hear from you. At least, I hope so." I tried to make lighthearted, but I knew this was no pleasure call.

"It could be better, Jonathan," he said, and I could hear he wasn't in the best mood. When I met him, I told him, like I tell everybody, to call me Jon or Jonathan. Guess which one he chose? "We've been in discussions with Acting Beta Andrews about an alliance."

"Travis told me, and I believe he suggested we wait until our Beta Pair come home to roost." Stupid little joke, but it made Dean and Kao Whitmore-Saechao grin and groan, so why not do it?

"That is true, Jonathan, but ... I need to ask if we can move the decision forward. My brother has gone missing, and I want him back." Levi's voice broke.

Oh shit, I thought. Missing members from SLCP was an SLCP issue, but this was something far more personal. I thought of something that could speed up the treaty a bit, but treaty negotiations could be hell. "Levi, my Betas will be coming through your area on their way here in a few days. Could I impose on your pack to put them up for a night?" I knew it would be no problem as their travel plan had already been approved by all the packs between Cali Sands and Homestead. "You could then pitch the alliance directly to them. Throw in a meal, and I know Dean won't turn it down."

There was a small snort on the other side of the line. "Bribery and ambush. You're an evil man, Jonathan. You trust your Betas this much? They are new to your pack."

I didn't blame him for asking. I would have asked, too. New members to any pack would usually have some sort of training or probationary period of adjustment to the new pack's way of life. Even members new to the hierarchy would usually be trained before something so vital as a treaty. "Kao has shown me he is ready for this, and not just from his training as a former member of Rogue Valley Flock. Dean has been telling me what to do for about fifteen years, and he's never steered me wrong. Except when he said to try a Greek place in So Cal. I tossed my cookies." That got another snort. "So tell them. Send your sister to get them."

There was a pause. "You...know of my sister?" His tone was a bit guarded, and I could understand why. Levi's sister Melody was transgender. Not easy when you're a Lycan and made even worse when living in a highly religious area like Utah.

"Gossip flies faster among alphas than it does among church ladies. I heard it from Goldie Kirkland who heard it from Lars Olsen who heard it from the Alpha Mate of the Adobe Pueblo pack who met your sister's best friend's ex-boyfriend's mother who works as a maid in your Alpha's house." There was a silence, one where I knew he was trying to compute what I just said.

"Show them we aren't closeminded like many people think all Mormons are."

"Exactly. I...Levi, I've got another call coming in. Talk with Dean and Kao." We said our brief farewells, and I clicked over to the call on hold. "Jonathan Davenport."

"Jon, it's Tucker Hayes from the Great Lakes Tribe. Could we meet on a matter of some urgency?"

Tucker Hayes...I knew that name. I'd met a huge man named Hayes when I first came to claim the lands of Homestead. A werebear. There was a brief talk about territory boundaries. It went smoothly. "What's up, Tucker? Wait, does this have anything to do with the rogue group operating in the area?"

"Yes. We've lost three members that we know of, and two are reported missing. We don't have the resources to find them." His voice was very low pitched, a sort of deep rumble, and I could hear he was holding back. He also sounded tired and frustrated.

"And the Council is doing nothing." Not a question. "You say 'we' like it's more than just the bears."

"The Sioux City wolves have lost more than us, but the Council has done nothing."

"Okay. I'll head over to North Dakota, and we can meet up to discuss what help you'll need. I just got a call from Salt Lake, and I'm no mondo hotshot detective, but I've got a feeling this is all connected. I'll make some calls and send you the details where we can meet."

His long and relieved sigh was enough to make me worry. How bad was it? How bad did it have to get before the Council stepped in? "Thank you, Jon."

"Don't thank me yet." I hung up. I sat back to wonder exactly what I could do. I mean, I know I had some clout with the Council, but even they would frown if I decided to mobilize without their consent. It was a tricky situation. I didn't mind helping out my neighbors. I didn't mind helping out SLCP. We were on friendly terms with them thanks to a giant mountain named Zeke. Formal alliances were something more and could bite us in the ass if shit hits the fan. I hated politics, but I found myself dealing with them more and more every month.

"Heather, could you call ahead and tell them to ready the plane? Pat and I are heading east for a few days." I had said it at a normal level, but I know she heard me loud and clear. Lycan hearing was awesome unless someone was learning to play a sax or violin within a mile. Then it was hell.

"Sure, Jon. Who'll be in charge?" The only reason she wanted to know was so she could schedule who was out for patrol and when. That way she could get some cuddle time with my son.

"Pop just showed up yesterday. Put him in charge." I got to my feet and marched out of the office, seeing her already pulling out some paperwork for me to sign. I scribbled my John Hancock and left to pack.

I paused briefly to look over my home. It had once been an old campground in Montana, but we took it over, did a few repairs to make it livable, and then set about getting actual lodgings put in. Mostly rustic looking on the exterior, each of the eight cabins was equipped with enough gadgets even a city boy wouldn't feel like he would hear banjos in the distance. All the ceilings were high, the furnishings made of real wood, and the doorways huge. Every cabin was like this for two reasons. Well, three now.

Lycans, or werewolves if you prefer, could get pretty damn big. I'm 6'3" and weighing about two-fifty, and I'm average for a Lycan male in his prime. My husband Patrick was the same weight, but he was about 5'8". I married a bulldozer, and I love it. My pop was a smidge under seven feet, and my son was over seven feet. We're a big family. High ceilings were a must. Pop and Dyl were reasons one and two. The third one was Zeke, a 6'10" mountain who was as gentle as he was big. Until I became a Lycan, I was considered above average height. Now I was short.

I walked a dozen yards to my house and went in, two suitcases were already open and being packed. A slow grin spread on my face as I took in the sight of my husband already packing for a trip I didn't tell him about. Doing it in just a jock strap was the perfect bonus. "Someone was hoping for an afternoon quickie, I see," I said and pulled him back against me, running my hands over his furry chest. He only wore a jock to get me horny fast.

"I was, then I overheard you tell Heather we were leaving." Patrick Farris, he kept his own last name for genealogy reasons, sighed as he melted against my polo shirt clad chest. His sigh became a whimper as I tweaked a nipple harder than most people would like. He loved it. My white wolf was a masochist.

"We still have time," I growled into his ear. I pulled away and grabbed some shorts from the dresser. "Unless you don't..." I wasn't able to finish because he grabbed me around the waist and almost body slammed me on the bed. I was grinning. When Pat was in the mood, I knew he wanted me to fuck him as rough as I could.

"Are you going to fuck me, or do I have to ride you until I break the bed...again?" Yup, he was in the mood. He was already undoing my pants. Darn. What kind of husband and mate would I be if I didn't keep him happy?

I pulled him to me, flipping us over so he was face down, ass up. I stared at his delicious ass. Even straight men stared at his ass. Round, firm, and hairless, which always made me chuckle inwardly because the rest of him was decently or copiously hairy. Not his ass, and I know he didn't shave it. I buried my face in that set of wonder-globes, shoving my tongue deep inside. His high pitched yelp made me chuckle, and I knew everyone within about a hundred yards knew we'd be busy. Our sex life was totally awesome, and thanks to super hearing, everyone knew we were fucking. No one ever bothered us. At most, we'd get a call or someone giving a warning yell of some important matter. No one walked in on us.

My shirt and shorts went flying across the room toward the dirty clothes hamper. I'd have to grab my wallet and keys out of them, but I wasn't worried. At least this set of clothes had survived. Most got shredded in our haste for nudity. I did hear a ripping sound, and I knew we'd need another comforter for the bed. Pat loved when I ate his ass. Years of whoring around with pretty much any woman I wanted gave me the most excellent oral skills. My husband wanted, at one point, to send them all cards to thank them for teaching me. Impossible. Not even Bill Gates had that much cash.

I kissed my way up his back, his hips already tilting, and nibbled on his ear as I slid everything God blessed me with up that always-virginally-tight ass. We both groaned, and never had I felt more complete than when my mate and I were joined. He was made for me and I for him. When I started rocking slowly, Pat moaned, gasped, and growled at me at the same time. He wanted it fast and hard, and I knew that, but if we wanted to get on our trip before tomorrow, I needed to do it this way. He wouldn't complain, never did, but he was wanting something else.

I eased all the way in, grinding so I stretched the back wall, and pulled back out just as slowly, making sure I hit all his spots. By his panting and the familiar whimpers, he wasn't too upset with me right now. Mid-thrust, when I was balls deep and pressing farther than I usually did, I flipped him over, making him suck in air and almost scream. It hurt, I know it did, and it satisfied the need and desire for pain he had. It also pushed us both close, our scents giving away just how much we were both enjoying this. I had one last trick to use if I was close and he wasn't. It never failed.

Our eyes were locked, and my Alpha dominance was in full swing. He would submit to me, and I could see both his human self and his wolf were doing just that. It was not the first time I had used my power as Alpha to show him who was in charge. Not even the thousandth. Wouldn't be the last either. Tomorrow he may do the same, taking charge and showing me who was boss, which I did for no other person in my life. Right now though, he was my bitch, and he knew it. That look in his eyes brought me right to the edge. Time to play dirty.

When I growled and placed my hand lightly on his throat, his eyes went huge and his body began to tremble. It was a wolf's way of showing I could hurt you, but I won't. It was visceral, instinctive, and primal, hitting all his buttons at once. It was one thing I kept in reserve for moments like these. He'd once told me that erotic asphyxiation with eye contact was like instant orgasm for him. He hadn't been wrong the few times I'd done this to him, and it proved true this time, too. His voice caught mid-howl as his hole tightened around my considerable length. The load he had dribbled out for the first volley and then hit his chest for the rest. The scent of his seed, his submission, his utter devotion and desire for me, and that look of pure love in his gorgeous baby blues shoved me over into my own climax. I worked it in just a bit deeper, making us both gasp.

It was quick, dirty, and very fulfilling. As I sagged against him, releasing his throat, he grinned up at me with half-lidded eyes. "I love you, Alpha," he whispered softly.

I kissed him tenderly and smiled back. "I love you, my mate." Our post-boink bliss had to be cut short. We both knew it. We got cleaned up, packed, and were at the airfield by the time the plane was taxiing to the runway.

* * *

That was the beginning of a bunch of hell. I mean, with a few lost people, I could understand some unrest. A few would be sad but on a much smaller level. Over one hundred people had gone missing over the past few years; forty of them in the past three months. The Great Lakes Tribe of bears from Worthington, Minnesota had lost eleven members, the wolves of Sioux City lost thirteen, and the pack from Rock Valley had lost over half their members. They were down to nine members of their pack.

Why had no one done anything about this? That was the question on everyone's mind as Pat and I met with their reps in North Dakota. These smaller packs were Homestead's neighbors, and I knew that they'd had some problems, but damn it!

"Why haven't you asked for help from us? Homestead could spare a few hunters to patrol your borders, and I hope you know I wouldn't use that advantage to try to take you down." It went without saying I could lead a full-frontal assault and easily sweep them all with very few casualties, but I hoped I had proven I wasn't that type of dick.

"The Council assured us it was being taken care of," said Tucker Hayes. He had come himself to this meeting. He was an alpha bear, although they called them by a different title, and he was trusting the truce of peace talks to keep him and his pack safe while he was in my territory. We were all sitting on one of my buildings in Jamestown, North Dakota overlooking the Hillcrest Golf Course.

"Bullshit," was what I said, and handed them a copy of what was actually being done, according to Travis Andrews. "This 'rogue group' is utter fucking bullshit. I smell a rat, and the fact that Travis hasn't been told or found out much tells me someone is trying to keep this entire thing secret. Why I don't know." I pressed a button, and the door to the room opened to admit another person. "I believe you all know or have heard of the Lunais Liaison to the Council. He's taken time off from his work to aid us in this problem. Directly." Gene sat when I motioned him to join us, but he leaned against the window sill.

"Gentlemen, I won't beat around the bush," he said. "Something is going on within the Council, and I have found out where some of your missing people are, but I want to know where they were taken and when." His casual stance was made a lie by his focused eyes and the tension in his shoulders. He wasn't trying to cover up his anxiety, which he could easily do if he wanted. Gene was a wily one, the best I had ever met. He came to these men with open honesty. A trait they appreciated even as they hated it.

"We lost some while they were up in Winnipeg, Manitoba. No traces found other than a few Facebook pics from the time they vanished. Three of them were children, triplets, barely thirteen." Sascha Ianevski, the leader of the Rock Valley pack, spoke up first. He was a dog shifter, one of the very few I had ever met. A Siberian Husky...fitting for a Russian. I would have expected bear, but that would have been way too cliche.

I don't know why that set off a few alarms in my head, but I know why it hit home. That was the age I found Dylan in the woods as his family was being attacked, killed, and possibly eaten by Lupus wolves. It was also the age he had been kidnapped and someone tried to sacrifice his heart to gain his Solaris powers. It was also the average age most Lycans started puberty and their first shift to their animals.

"What type of shifter?" Gene asked.

Alpha Ianevski's eyes burned with such anger and loathing. I knew the answer even before he opened his mouth. "Siberian husky," was all he said, and I saw Gene's head drop.

Gene wasn't hiding anything from these men. His scent was so full of grief and sympathy. With a slow shake of his head, he looked to Tucker Hayes whose massive hand was on Ianevski's shoulder.

The bear had little information. "I know they were hunting up in Canada. Ontario, I think. My tribe is not as strict about some things as the wolves. We roam a bit more freely. They did miss their weekly call-in. Three months ago."

Why the fuck hadn't anyone done anything? I mean, I get that it was being covered up, but honestly, someone must have figured it all out or at least had an inkling. I was almost scared to even ask how many people Sioux City lost and when. The beta of Sioux City, Foster Gracin, looked down at the table. "Foster?" I asked quietly.

People expected the alphas and betas of each pack to be strong, commanding, above the normal shows of stress. We were supposed to be the foundation each group built their lives on. We're the guide when things get hairy and the sword when they're attacked. That was not how I led Homestead, and it was not how Foster assisted in the running of his pack.

Foster looked up, tears in his eyes. His mouth worked a few times before he cleared his throat. "You should remember, Jon. They had let you know where they would be."

Oh, fucking shit. Six months ago a group of Lycan middle schoolers had let me know they were going to be spending a week camping in the north part of Minnesota, up near the lakes, for a science trip. They gave me a full itinerary, lodgings, and even invited me to come to say hi, which I had their first night. They had been a good bunch of kids, smart as hell, and we'd had fun making up "old wives tales" about the lakes. I didn't think anything of it since they were reported to have left when scheduled. I still had the thank you card the class made framed in my office.

"They never made it back?" I asked in a whisper. I know I felt tears in my eyes. They fell when he shook his head.

"We found the bus abandoned along the Canadian border. No scent trails, no evidence to say who took them, not even the bus's security tapes." A dozen kids and their teacher, just gone. No traces. "We all know you pretty well, Jon. You've been a fine neighbor this past decade. I speak for all three of us when I say we know you had nothing to do with it."

I looked around at the faces, seeing their agreement. "Well, I have something to do with it now. Gene, I think we can guess what has happened..."

He cut me off. "No, you can't. My group and I found the bodies of over two hundred Lycans in a mass grave yesterday." The assembled men, including myself, went white. My heart thundered in my ears, and my mouth went dry. "Ages ten to twenty-eight. Lupus, Lunais, Solaris...all had their hearts cut out. The oldest body had been killed years ago. The most recent, a Solaris girl, was less than twenty-four hours deceased." Gene was using his training now. I knew he had to keep the pain from his voice, the tears from his eyes, his hands from shaking. "I know what you're thinking, Jon, and I wouldn't put it past him, but there is no evidence to say he's involved," Gene finished. He met my eyes, but he turned his away. Gene was a strong wolf, but he was no alpha.

I slammed my palm on the top of the table, a giant crack stretching the entire length of the three-inch thick solid oak table before it crumpled in on itself. All of them looked at me, and I know this would be the first time all but Gene had seen my temper snap. "Gene, how fast can you gather a group or groups to find the few who are still missing?" My tone was barely controlled, and I knew my eyes were bright red.

"Three days at the very least."

"Do it. Whatever resources you need, you will have them. Money, troops, weapons, yours." The others nodded their agreement and said the same. They didn't have the resources Homestead did, and we all knew that, but they had suffered so much. "Do you want the Little Dude and his squad? Them I can mobilize in minutes."

I could tell Gene was tempted. "No. Save them in reserve. I may need the best to come get me out of the fire." His smirk was perfect.

"Little Dude? Jon, do you have a black ops team we don't know about?" asked Sascha. He was mostly joking...mostly.

I grinned. "No secret. My son and Prime Enforcer, whose nickname is still the Little Dude, has three men. All of them trained under Gene. A Pantera Leo Solaris, Latrans Lunais, Ursus Maritimus, and Lynx Canadensis."

"A lion, coyote, polar bear, and lynx all in the same squad?" asked Foster.

"Best damned troops I've ever trained. The five of us took down two Ferals with only one broken bone on our side, and that only because the Feral fell on him." That got more than a few impressed looks.

"The polar bear...the Whitebear's son?" asked Tucker. He would know the bears in the general area, and most bears were not as big as Jessup and his wife. They were fairly well known

"Yup, and his mate. US Army." I couldn't help but sound proud of my boys.

"Yeah, keep them in reserve." Despite the gravity of the situation, Tucker chuckled. "If nothing else, Ezekial could eat those who get in his way."

"The Little Dude is bigger," said Gene. For proof, Gene pulled out his cell phone and pulled up a picture of him and the boys. It was a picture of a fishing trip/training exercise they went on soon after Quintin Marshal had won his freedom from an abusive ex. "The shortest is the most deadly. Never turn your back on a lynx."

Each marveled at the group of goofily grinning idiots. Gene brought the meeting back on track. "I'll get things moving, Jon. It will take time. Some of these trails are mighty cold."

"Get it done however and as fast as you can. Keep us all posted." He nodded and left the room. "Oh, and tell Oliver to order a new table." All I got was a chuckle. "We'll get them back." Or there would be hell to pay.