“New York,” Ben said. “She went to New York.”
Before I could even ask why, Secret said, “There’s only one thing in this world I love as much as you. She’s going after Desmond.”
Chapter Thirty
Mercy was on the hunt for Secret’s husband.
Of course.
If she couldn’t get to Secret or me directly, lashing out at the most important person in Secret’s life was the perfect solution.
But if Mercy thought getting to Secret and I was difficult, she had no clue what was waiting for her in Manhattan. Desmond wasn’t just some lowly werewolf. He was the King of the East now. He was well protected at all times, and wouldn’t be waiting in the sniper’s eye ready to go down easy.
Still, I didn’t put much past Mercy when it came to getting what she wanted, and she had to know Secret and I would be hot on her heels once Ben cracked and told us what her plan was.
Which she had to know he would.
If I wasn’t so furious with Ben I would feel bad for him. He’d played right into her hands, and she had manipulated him perfectly. He’d done absolutely everything she wanted him to, and now we were going to step in line for her. I hated that I was going to do exactly what she wanted, but what other option was there?
We were waiting on the tarmac at Lakefront Airport as the private jet Secret had called for was refueling and ready to take us to New York. One of the many benefits of being a queen, and married to the man who had inherited Lucas Rain’s billions, Secret had a lot of very fancy things available to her on call.
Right now she was pacing a few feet away, speaking to Desmond on her cell phone in hushed tones. She was quiet, but not so quiet I couldn’t hear what she was saying.
“I know you think you’re safe, but could you please just take Dominick and go back to the apartment for now? I don’t like the idea of you just being out in the open.” Dominick was Desmond’s brother, and like Wilder, was a bodyguard.
I leaned against Wilder, who was keeping an eye on the open tarmac as if he expected Mercy might come for us here, rather than waiting for us to stumble into her obvious trap.
For now, though, it was just us: Secret, Lucas, Wilder, and myself. Magnolia had damn near insisted on coming with us, but I would only be worried about her. As it was I was already worried about everyone with me.
Worry seemed to be the new constant in my life: worry for myself, worry for my family, worry for my pack.
I alm
ost missed the days when my biggest concern was wondering whether or not I should join one of the Tulane sororities. Ah, those were such youthful, innocent times.
Secret came back to us, putting her phone into her pocket. “Stubborn ass,” she grumbled.
“Now you know what it’s like for us every time you barrel head-first into trouble,” Lucas said. It was a line so smoothly delivered it took us all a moment to realize how badly he’d just burned her.
She blinked at him. “You’re so lucky that I’m still in awe of you being back from the dead. Desmond is still refusing to go into hiding.”
“You shouldn’t be surprised.”
“I’m not, but that doesn’t make it less annoying.”
“Would you go into hiding?” he asked her.
Secret gave him a look that plainly said, have you met me? All of us knew Secret would never back away from a challenge or a threat. None of us were the type to cower with our tails between our legs. It wasn’t how things worked with alpha wolves.
Or McQueens in general.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said with a sigh.
Secret lead the way to the plane, and I wasn’t so wrapped up in my own life-threatening drama that I could be at least a little impressed with the red carpet treatment. It wasn’t my first time being on a private jet, but the last time we’d been on one Secret had just killed Mercy. Now we were heading back into the fray to kill her again.
One of these days I might get to be on a private jet and be on my way somewhere cool, like an island resort, or even just a nice one-on-one vacation with Wilder. But no, it seemed almost inevitable that the only time I’d get to travel in style would be when my life or the lives of others was on the line.
Which meant it wasn’t really an ideal time to ask if they had any booze on board.