Gavin opened his mouth, but no words came out. He shook his head sadly.
Tate sighed. “Alex.”
The wolverine gripped Gavin’s pinky finger, which had the jaguar’s eyes widening almost comically.
Gavin writhed. “No! No, don’t!”
“Where will the auction be held?” Tate asked calmly.
Havana nudged the cat. “Come on, Gavin. I don’t think your beloved patriarch would want you to suffer for him. And why stop now? You’ve already told us plenty. There’s no sense in holding onto the location when we’ll get it out of you eventually anyway.”
“Why endure pain for him?” Tate asked the jaguar. “You say he protects you. I don’t see how. He sends off you and Enrique to do much of his dirty work, doesn’t he?”
Gavin’s mouth bobbed open and closed. “Well … yes.”
“He never takes any of the risks,” Tate pointed out. “He leaves you and Enrique to do that. So he’s not really much of a protector, is he?”
“I, well, I don’t know.”
“Sure you do. Wake the fuck up, Gavin. He saw that need you have to belong, he gave you the ‘family’ you wanted, and then he took it from you. He went into hiding. Did he insist on you and Enrique going into hiding with him? Or did he have you two go out and do things on his behalf, again taking the risks?”
Gavin didn’t answer, his expression pensive.
“The loners up for sale tonight … one of them could just as easily have been you, Gavin. And if it had been you on the auction block, wouldn’t you have wanted someone to speak out for you? To at least give the location of the auction so that it could be stopped?”
Gavin squeezed his eyes shut.
“He dirtied your soul by pulling you into his trafficking operation. A lot of lone shifters were probably sentenced to fates worse than death, and you sent them to that auction block. But now is your chance to wash away some of that dirt. You can save the people who are up for auction tonight. You can save yourself from receiving the same beating that Enrique got. So do it. Help us help them. Help yourself. Tell us where the auction will be held.”
Gavin swallowed hard and lowered his eyes. “The yacht.”
Tate’s insides jumped. “Yacht?”
“It belongs to Gideon. He takes the assets and customers on board and then holds the auction at sea,” Gavin confessed, his shoulders sagging. “The boat is called the Pollyanna.”
Tate looked at his mate, who gave him a look that said, “Told you the universe was giving us another heads-up.” Ignoring it, he turned back to the jaguar. “Well done, Gavin. This is almost over. First, tell me everything there is to know about this yacht.”
From their shadowy spot near a closed rental office at the dock, Tate and his pride mates closely observed the goings-on near the Pollyanna mega yacht. Gideon was so certain he wasn’t trackable that he didn’t even have sentries posted around the dock. With the exception of the armed guards stationed on the upper level of the yacht, the only people in sight were the two males manning the entrance, clad in tuxedos.
“I’m getting the sense that those two have been doing this job for a while,” said Luke. “They didn’t just politely greet the people who boarded. They spoke to them like they’d met them before. Gideon must have a lot of repeat customers.”
“What disgusts me is that everyone who boarded was dressed like they’re attending a black-tie event,” said Havana. “They’re here to buy people, and they’re acting like it’s a regular swanky night out. They didn’t even scurry on board while glancing guiltily over their shoulders. No, they all just strolled leisurely toward the boat without a care in the world.”
“They won’t be feeling so cool and casual when we board,” said Alex. “And I don’t think we’ll find that too difficult. The two men on the dock aren’t on high alert. The people patrolling the upper deck are pacing around, their guns at the ready, but none are paying as much attention as they should.”
“Everyone seems quite sure that no one will be here who shouldn’t be,” Tate agreed. “I thought that Gavin was either wrong or lying when he said the security wouldn’t be tight. Gideon’s apparently too arrogant to accept that the people hunting him might just get close.”
Gavin had finally broken after confessing the name of the boat. The rest of the information had just tumbled out of him—where the yacht was docked, how many minions would be on board, the names of the clientele, and even the layout of the boat.
The fiberglass and chrome mega yacht had several levels. According to Gavin, the captives were kept in the crew’s quarters, which had been converted into rows of jail cells. The bidders were taken straight up to the spacious and luxurious middle deck, where they’d be given a catalogue of the “assets” to glimpse through. After cocktails, the loners were brought up, one by one, to be viewed and sold.