Shadow Effect - 33. Chapter 33

Tyler pulled into the parking lot of the Days Inn in Dalhart, Texas. There wasn’t much to the area besides cattle ranches, farmland, scrub brush, and some scattered arroyos. Towns were few and far between, and Dalhart was the only one close enough to Corbin Taylor’s place that had a hotel.

After spending yet another long day on the road, he had had enough. Eleven hours in the van was torture. His ass was numb, even with the rest stops they made. Tyler drove under the hotel’s portico, turned off the engine, and blew out a sigh of relief.

Elijah fidgeted uncomfortably as he grabbed his wallet. “I’ll go check us in. Then we can go find something to eat. Sound good?”

He could only nod. While this wasn’t the longest day on the road, it was the most monotonous. Nebraska, Kansas, and a sliver of Oklahoma stood between South Dakota and Texas. Cornfields, soy fields, pig farms, dairy farms, and endless flatlands. Mile after mile after mile.

His stomach growled. Not that he needed a reminder their last food stop had been six hours ago. He hoped Elijah remembered to ask for a recommendation for a good place to eat. He didn’t have long to wait until E was back, grinning from ear to ear.

“There’s a Mexican place about a mile down the road. The front desk clerk said it’s the best in town.”

Tyler started the van and followed Elijah’s directions. El Paisano’s parking lot was three-quarters full, mostly pickup trucks, all of which sported a gun rack on the back. He was surprised at first but then remembered it was normal in the state. When your livelihood depended upon the health and welfare of your livestock, and threats such as coyotes were common, it wasn’t surprising that the locals kept their firearms handy.

They stepped out of the van. The aroma of sizzling meat assaulted their noses. Tyler’s mouth instantly watered. He shot a sideways glance at Elijah, who was inhaling deeply. They made their way across the parking lot and inside the restaurant. Lucky for them, they arrived after the dinner rush on a weekday. They were greeted promptly and taken to a table.

Another thing that stood out was the abundance of cowboy hats. Nearly every man in the place wore one. Nothing said stranger louder than the lack of such headwear. Tyler didn’t care. The tantalizing smells were ten times stronger in here than outside.

He and Elijah each ordered a bottle of local beer and perused the menu. It only took a moment before Tyler landed on the El Grande Loco Burrito. Elijah chose a combo platter with two enchiladas, two tamales, and two tacos.

When their food arrived, they dug in like it was their last meal before facing the executioner. All of it was excellent; by the end, they were stuffed.

Tyler stretched back and rubbed his poofed-out belly. “That was the best burrito I’ve ever had. Just don’t tell Mama, okay?”

Elijah hummed his agreement as he devoured his last bite.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

Elijah wiped his mouth on a napkin before replying. “Not really. I mean, like you said yesterday, what’s the worst that can happen? I’m getting good vibes about this. My Kage-o-Matic is still keeping me warm, so there’s that.”

Tyler chuckled at the nickname. This morning, Tyler woke up to a text from Logan. After a short but tense standoff, he and Cooper successfully rescued a pup and were on their way back to Montana. It was great news. So far, Neall had been the only death the teams had encountered, although everyone knew it was just a matter of time.

“I don’t think we need any more warmth,” he remarked. “Today was brutal.” They didn’t need a reminder that the dog days of summer were in full force. The intense August heat baked the landscape for the entire trip. Every time they got out of the van, it was like stepping into an oven. Despite wearing polarized sunglasses with UV protection, his eyes still hurt from the constant shimmering of the road as it stretched out endlessly.

Elijah nodded. “I think we should get to Taylor’s farm first thing in the morning. Less chance of him not being there, although I guess if he isn’t, I can always shift and take a look around.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to scout things out first? I know we agreed the direct approach would be best, but I want to make sure you’re still okay with it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” His friend’s confidence surprised Tyler. Elijah was usually the more cautious one.

Tyler paid the bill, leaving a generous tip. Before returning to the hotel, they quickly stopped at the local grocery store to pick up a few things they needed.

By the time they settled in their room, Elijah had an email from Sebastian with a photo attached. It was Corbin Taylor’s driver’s license picture. The Alpha’s skill at obtaining information still amazed him. More than anything, he was glad to have a visual of who they were looking for.

The following morning they took advantage of the complimentary breakfast buffet before heading out just after seven o’clock. In the farming community, it’s considered late, but they weren’t farmers, and as far as they knew, neither was Corbin Taylor.

His place was thirty minutes from town, in the more rural part of the county. Grazing cattle dotted the landscape. Vast fields stretched as far as they could see on both sides of the road. Most of the cattle sported big-ass, massive horns. They were called longhorns for a reason. Tyler didn’t know squat about livestock, only that females were cows, castrated males were steers, and intact males were bulls. After seeing the longhorns, he decided he didn’t want to get close enough to get to know them better.

The GPS chimed. Their destination was on the left in five hundred feet. He slowed down and flicked his directional on, even though there were no cars behind him for as far as the eye could see.

Tyler turned, passing under a sign that read Double Dutch Ranch. He smiled at a long-buried memory. Elena had been a master at double Dutch jump rope when they were kids. He had often been coerced into swinging the two identical ropes, alternating each one in opposite directions, while she double-stepped, hopping over them as each one passed beneath. He, on the other hand, was an uncoordinated mess. His feet would get tangled up whenever he tried, most often landing on his ass.

Gravel crunched under the tires, announcing their arrival to anyone who might be home. Being stealthy was not their objective. The entry lane ended in front of a weathered two-story farmhouse, something which could have jumped out of an episode of one of those old TV shows, like Gunsmoke or Bonanza. A wide porch wrapped around the three sides of the building, complete with two Adirondack chairs, a small side table, and of course, a porch swing.

A tri-colored border collie came running to greet them, barking furiously, its tail down and hackles raised. Wisely, they stayed in the van. The commotion brought a man out of the house through the front door. A long-barrelled shotgun rested in his arms.

Corbin Taylor, according to Sebastian’s information, was forty-two. Tyler would have put him in his late thirties. It was apparent he took care of himself. He was average height, maybe five-ten, with medium brown hair and a decent build. His expression was guarded, his forehead wrinkled with concern. Tyler immediately regretted their decision not to do any reconnaissance. The man said something to the dog, who immediately quieted down and went to his side. They took that as their cue to get out of the van.

“Here we go,” Elijah muttered, just loud enough for Tyler to hear.

They agreed Tyler would take the lead, allowing Elijah to assess the situation and be ready to shift if necessary. He plastered a smile on his face and walked toward the porch, stopping at the bottom, a couple of feet from the stairs. Elijah hung back, giving himself plenty of room to shift if he had to.

“Hi, are you Corbin Taylor?” Tyler asked, keeping his voice neutral.

“Who wants to know?” The man didn’t confirm nor deny who he was, but his face matched the picture they’d seen.

“I’m Tyler Williamson, and this is Elijah Garrison. We’re looking for some information that might help us. Are you Corbin?” he asked again, this time in a no-nonsense firm tone. Tyler could play this game. He had plenty of experience prying information out of tight-lipped siblings.

“Well, it depends on what information you’re looking for.”

Time to jump into the deep end, Tyler thought. “Do you know anything about two hybrid wolf shifters? You know, half-human, half-wolf?”

He and Elijah watched as the color drained from Corbin’s face. Bingo!

“H-h-how did you find out?” Corbin asked, obviously taken by surprise. He must think they were from the government or something. His dog must have picked up on his distress as it placed itself between its owner and them, hackles standing on end and a low growl emanating from its chest.

“Boots, settle,” he commanded, and the dog relaxed but kept a wary eye on them. Corbin’s gun remained at the ready.

Tyler could sense Elijah on the verge of shifting. “First of all,” he said, needing to diffuse the tension, “you’re not in any kind of trouble. We’ve been looking for them for a while now. It’s a long story, but we’ll be happy to tell you. Is it alright if we go inside?”

Corbin hesitated as if mentally weighing the pros and cons before lowering his shotgun, stepping back, and sweeping his arm across the front of his body in a gesture for them to step inside. Tyler wasn’t sure if they should allow a man holding a shotgun behind them, but they had no choice.

The interior of the house was bright and airy. While it wasn’t cluttered or dirty, it had that lived-in feeling. Dust and dog fur dotted the corners of the living room they passed through and carried over into the large kitchen. The counter wasn’t cluttered, but it wasn’t devoid of the everyday detritus of normal living either. Keys, a wallet, and a stack of unopened mail littered the surface of one counter. The sink held a few unwashed dishes. A loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter and jelly were left out, waiting to be used or put away. Shoes and boots were lying haphazardly by the back door, next to the dog's water bowl and food dish.

“Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything?” Corbin asked politely, having regained some of his composure.

Tyler and Elijah shook their heads. Not sure where to start, Tyler looked at Elijah, who gave him an almost imperceptible nod, indicating it was okay for him to continue taking the lead.

“So you are aware of the existence of the two hybrids?” he asked.

Corbin nodded hesitantly, averting his eyes.

“Will you tell us how you found out about them?”

“How about you tell me why you want to know?” Corbin countered.

Fair enough. Tyler let Elijah explain how, several years ago, a rogue pack discovered how to halt a young adolescent wolf shifter in mid-shift and their subsequent collaboration with the higher-ups in the general wolf hierarchy to exploit the poor kids.

The remainder of Corbin’s tough-guy facade crumbled at the information given. When Elijah explained how many of the pups were sold or auctioned to traffickers or pedophiles, he looked as if he was going to be sick.

Even though Tyler knew the whole story, it still wasn’t easy to hear about the pups who didn’t make it, those who never really had a chance. Those sacrificed during the research phase. Elijah continued explaining how they believed the first successful hybrids were Ashton and Austin Laramee. He went through the timeline of ‘ownership’ that Sebastian discovered, ending with Ken Marvin, Corbin’s old next-door neighbor.

“So, you see,” Elijah concluded, “We were able to trace the twins' disappearance to Tennessee, and we stumbled across your possible involvement. It was a long shot, but one we had to investigate, which brings us here.”

Corbin was silent, letting the download of information dumped on his lap sink in. Tyler could hear him inhaling slowly before letting out a long exhale.

“Do you know where they are?” Tyler asked.

Again, hesitation before Corbin looked directly at him. “Yes.”

When Corbin didn’t volunteer any details, Elijah prompted, “Will you tell us where?”

Tapping his foot nervously, Corbin answered, “Why don’t I show you?”

Tyler’s eyes shot to Elijah, and his heart picked up its beat, going from a steady thumping to a staccato thrumming, threatening to slam against the back of his breastbone. His pulse roared in his ears.

Slowly, Corbin got up and led them out the back door, across the dusty yard to the outbuilding closest to them. It was a barn, still painted red, with white trim, now faded and peeling in spots. The wide double doors were securely shut, a thick chain and sturdy padlock firmly in place. Corbin pulled out a set of keys from his pocket and slotted one into the lock of the smaller side door.

As soon as they stepped in, Tyler noticed two things; first, the entirety of the large interior was a giant cage. It was pretty elaborate, too. The confined area created a large U-shape, and the central walkway they were in spanned ten feet and reached back to somewhere near the middle of the barn. The rest of the space was open, so the two inhabitants were free to use the entire area, less the walkway. The wooded exterior was reinforced with sheet metal.

The enclosure was sectioned off like an apartment. The living area had an oversized sectional couch, and a large-screen TV was mounted behind a transparent barrier. A kitchenette held a few cupboards, a counter with a small sink, and a compact refrigerator.

On the opposite side was the sleeping area. Two queen-sized mattresses were lying on top of makeshift platforms. Another section was walled off, most likely a bathroom. There was even a loft, although Tyler couldn’t see what was up there. It was basic, but it looked like it could have been a cool apartment if not for the strong metal bars surrounding everything.

The second thing Tyler noticed was a peculiar aroma. It was reminiscent of a dog-like odor, not unpleasant like a wet-dog smell, but rather a dog that just had a bath in vanilla-scented shampoo.

Their entrance drew the attention of the two occupants within the enclosure. Two dark-haired heads shot up from the sectional, each taking up a section. Immediately, they bolted for the bars closest to where he and Elijah were standing, causing them to jump back in surprise.

The twins repeatedly slammed themselves against the metal, trying to break free from their confines. Growling and snarling, one directed his gaze at Elijah, the other at Tyler. Boots, the border collie, started barking, adding to the melee. Corbin grabbed his collar and pushed him back outside.

Tyler’s eyes locked with one of the twins. His brain couldn’t remember who had the right blue eye and who had the left. It didn’t matter as the one he was currently in a staring contest with was growling in the same tone over and over, almost as if he were trying to say something, or maybe Tyler imagined it.

“I’ve never seen them so agitated. You need to get out of here!” Corbin ordered.

He and Elijah backed off, slowly heading out the door to avoid aggravating the hybrids. They could hear Corbin trying to calm the twins, but it didn’t seem to work. After a few minutes, Corbin gave up and joined them outside, making sure to secure the door properly.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up as they heard a long, mournful howl, two wolf voices in tandem. The sound was deafening, carrying through the heavy doors and out into the morning air, picked up by the light breeze and carried away.

“What the fuck just happened?” he asked no one in particular.

“I don’t know. They’ve never acted like that before. I mean, they’ve growled and barked when they’ve been upset, but banging against the bars? No, that hasn’t happened,” said Corbin, who was shaking.

“Are they secure in there?” Elijah asked.

“Yes, those bars are the same as what they use in zoos to contain predators. I’ve never had an issue with it before.”

“Are you aware that shifters have supernatural strength?” Elijah remarked.

Corbin paled. “Well, I could give them a mild tranquilizer. I haven’t had to do that since we first arrived, but in this case, I think it might be a smart thing to do.”

Tyler winced. It seemed extreme, but considering the possible ramifications of their escape, it made sense.

Elijah nodded, just as aware of the potential crisis they had on their hands. It could be disastrous if the twins managed to break through the cage. They had to err on the side of caution. Drugging them could present its own problems, but escape would create a bigger one. One which would be far beyond their capabilities to contain.

Corbin went into the house and returned a few minutes later with a dart gun. Elijah held up his hand. “Wait! We have something that will work on their metabolism.” He hurried to the van and rummaged inside for a moment before returning with a small zippered case. He removed two vials and handed them to Corbin.

Quickly, Corbin unscrewed the cap on the dart and emptied its content, replacing it with the drug Sebastian provided. Once the darts were loaded, he turned to them. “Stay here.”

Tyler was more than happy to heed his advice. He and Elijah waited while Corbin went back inside the barn. They heard the sound of the gun being discharged twice, along with two howls of indignation before silence fell a few minutes later.

Corbin wiped at his eyes as he returned.

“I need to call Sebastian,” Elijah said.

Corbin gestured to the house. Tyler figured a little distance between them and the drugged hybrids was a good thing at the moment.

Elijah placed the call on speaker when Sebastian answered. Tyler listened as his friend explained their current situation.

Sebastian’s response was swift and decisive. “Boys, I want you to go see Giles Harris. He’s the Alpha of Caleb Micco’s new pack. He knows you're in the area, and he’s available to help. It sounds like the twins are feral. We need to figure out what to do. I will also contact Ben and Zev and send them your way. I think it will be all hands on deck with this one.”

Feral? The word replayed in Tyler’s head over and over. Feral. Feral. Feral. He wasn’t even aware of Elijah ending the call.

“Tyler? Tyler? TY!??” Elijah’s raised voice finally got through to him.

“They’re feral?” he croaked, unwilling to believe it. They couldn’t have come this far, only to discover the twins had turned feral. It was something from which few wolves ever recovered. He remembered it from a discussion with Sebastian and the other shifters a while back. The thought made his blood run cold.

“Tyler, listen to me.” Elijah grabbed his shoulders to get his full attention. “We don’t know that for sure. I’m going to call Giles Harris, like Sebastian said. Meanwhile, why don’t you sit down and try to figure out with Corbin what exactly might have set the twins off? This doesn’t seem like typical behavior. We can discuss it with Giles when we meet him, okay?”

Tyler took a deep breath. Now that he wasn’t in panic mode, he could think. Elijah’s plan made sense. While his friend stepped away to make his call, he turned to Corbin. “What’s normal behavior for them?”

Corbin was pale and shaking. It took a moment before answering. “They’re usually pretty docile. I mean, they get agitated, but not like what we just saw. Maybe it’s because they don’t recognize you? You’re the first people they’ve seen since we’ve been here.”

“Maybe. What sets them off when they do get agitated?”

“Hard to say, really. Occasionally, if I’m late bringing food, they’ll throw a tantrum. I used to stock up on groceries every week, but they’d end up fighting with each other over shit, and it was easier to just leave them enough food for each day. Other than the snacks they have in the cupboards, they’ve become accustomed to me bringing them all three meals in the morning. For occasional treats, I keep stuff like chips and ice cream on hand.”

“Do they understand you when you speak to them?” Tyler asked, knowing that lack of communication skills was one of the signs of ferality.

“Yes, I think so. At least they respond appropriately when I ask them to do something, like move back from the bars. They seem to communicate with each other too. That might be some sort of twin thing, though.”

“Hmm, maybe,” Elijah answered as he returned to the room. Tyler could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Giles would like to meet with us at his place. He seems to think it’s the two of us who are setting the twins off. They heard the howl they let loose a little bit ago, and he was getting a group together to go out and investigate.”

“Wow, how the hell did they hear that? Is the pack that close?” Corbin asked.

“No,” Elijah replied. “They’re about thirty miles from here, up near the Rita Blanca National Grasslands. Shifters have extraordinary senses, with smell and hearing far superior to humans. It doesn't surprise me they heard that howl. It sure was loud.”

Tyler had mixed feelings about leaving. Part of him wanted to stay, to protect—-well, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to protect, only that he had a strong urge to do so. The other part of him wanted to get to this new pack and see what, if any, information they had.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can. If you need us, call,” Elijah instructed. He gave his number to Corbin and quickly saved the information when the man sent him a text back. Tyler did the same.

“Okay, spill,” he demanded as they pulled onto the main road.

Elijah let out a big breath. “I’m not sure, but Giles seemed a little elusive. I think he knows much more than he let on over the phone. I’m almost positive he could read between the lines with the twins’ howls, and he knows exactly what they mean. I just wish we could figure it out.”

They spent the rest of the ride silent, each lost in his thoughts. Tyler worried his bottom lip, so many possibilities running through his mind. His nerves kicked into overdrive as they pulled in front of a large farmhouse much larger than Corbin’s.

Three men came out of the house when they came to a stop. From the corner of his eye, Tyler saw a glimpse of a smile as Elijah caught sight of one of the shifters. Tyler tracked his line of sight and guessed that the object of Elijah’s attention was none other than Caleb Micco, the former Alpha of the Montana pack. For reasons still confusing to him, Caleb was stripped of his rights as Alpha and chose to leave the pack voluntarily. Something to do with a betrayal of some sort. He couldn’t remember the exact details. He noticed Elijah’s smile turn into a concerned frown as he looked closer at the man.

Tyler wasn’t too impressed. Caleb looked washed out. He hadn’t known him before and had no frame of reference, but the man in front of them didn’t look like he could be the leader of a Girl Scout troop, let alone Alpha over a pack of over six hundred wolf shifters.

“Caleb?” Elijah asked as he got out of the van.

The man Tyler had been scrutinizing gave Elijah a waned smile. His eyes were hollow and emotionless. “It’s good to see you, Elijah.”

“I wish I could say the same. You look like shit.”

The big man standing next to Caleb choked back a bark of surprise. Clearing his throat, he introduced himself. “I’m Giles Harris. This is my Beta, Stuart. Please, come in. We have a lot to discuss.”

Elijah fell in beside Caleb and introduced Tyler, each of them giving the other a polite nod.

Once inside, they settled in the common room. There was a moment of awkwardness, and nobody was sure who should start the conversation. Elijah and Giles spoke at the same time.

“Do you—”

“Have you—”

Elijah tilted his head slightly, giving proper respect to the Alpha. “Please, go ahead.”

Giles nodded.

Caleb’s look of indifference turned into a look of concern. Uh-oh, that couldn’t be good.

Giles looked first at him and then at Elijah before coming out with it. “Do you two have any plans on how you are going to get your mates back to Montana?”

Tyler’s head whipped toward Elijah. His friend’s eyes were wide with surprise. He was sure his own were nearly popping out of their sockets.

Elijah’s eyes were wide. “Mates?” he squeaked.

“What do you mean…mates?” Tyler croaked.

Giles looked at each of them as though they belonged on the short bus. Slowly he enunciated, “Ashton…and Austin…they–, are–, your–, mates.

Tyler felt light-headed. The room did a slow spin, then dimmed. Blackness started at the edges of his vision, closing in until everything was a dark blur. His last conscious thought before hitting the floor was, what the holy fuck?