The drive to the Docks was awkward.
I called and made an appointment with Devi, but after that, silence set in. Neither of us wanted to talk about what had happened or deal with the consequences.
I was lost in my own thoughts, anyway.
Dragan was out there. How would we find him?
I wondered if Damian could locate people as well as objects. If so, that might be our only way of tracking Dragan down.
We were so fucked.
Why is that a bad word? Wolfie asked, her voice teasing. Because last night—
Shut it, Wolfie.
We passed through the dockyard checkpoint, and Jaxson slowly drove over to an area with three dozen stacked shipping containers.
“Where are we going?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at one of the massive freighters being loaded with cargo.
“Tony’s under lock and key until we debrief him,” Jaxson said. He turned the wheel and stopped outside of a rusty red container, where Sam was waiting for us.
“He’s inside?” Jax asked as he slipped out of the truck.
“All wrapped with silver chains,” Sam said.
Jaxson looked at me with an inquiring expression, then back at Sam.
Oh, shit. If she’d found Tony, Dragan could have jumped into her.
I reached out and touched her signature—a rich floral scent of lilac and almonds with an undercurrent of something else. Nothing out of the ordinary. Relief flooded through me. “She’s clean.”
“What?” Sam asked, looking between us.
“Savy thinks she’ll know if Dragan has possessed someone—their signature changes,” Jaxson said, striding over to the container. “Ready to see if he’s still in Tony?”
I nodded and summoned the Soul Knife. Jaxson’s eyes flicked to me, his unease palpable.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to stab him,” I said.
Jaxson undid the latch and swung the door of the container wide with a metallic creak.
The early morning light shone in, revealing Tony sitting on a stool with his hands bound behind his back, his head down, and completely wrapped in silver chains.
He looked up and smiled, a few teeth missing from his familiar off-center grin. “Hey, boss.”
My stomach churned. Bruises darkened his cheeks, and his nose had been broken. He looked like hell.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on his signature, which I knew well. He’d driven me all over town and quietly put up with my antics for days.
No sign of Dragan, though I could feel the residual taint of his presence. Not hesitating, I rushed over and gave Tony a hug—perhaps the first time we’d ever touched. “He’s clean, Jax. It’s just Tony.”
“Good,” Jaxson said flatly. But beneath his tone, I could hear the deep relief and sorrow. One of his packmates had been returned to him, and I knew in that stoic moment that it meant more to him than anything.
“Just Tony?” the battered man asked, giving me a playfully sharp look. “That’s rather demeaning.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his feigned outrage. “I mean, you’re not possessed by a psycho ghost anymore. What happened to you?”
His cuts and bruises twisted my gut. I looked at Sam leaning in the doorway, hoping we hadn’t done this to him.
“Car accident,” Sam said, reading the apprehension in my voice. “They found him this morning, unconscious in his Jeep, which was wrapped around a concrete barrier.”
“And you don’t remember a thing?” Jaxson asked, looming over the man.
Tony shook his head. “Last thing I remember was loading guns at Eclipse before we headed to Michigan. After that, nothing until those cops found me.”
Truth. I could feel it all the way in my bones. Jaxson could, too, because he turned to Sam and motioned to his wrists. “Keys.”
She tossed them over, and he began undoing the locks on the chains. “Sorry about this, Tony, but we had to be careful. Who found you? Our people?”
“Nah. Some non-shifter cops. Folks from the Order,” Tony said as I bent down to help unbind him. “They wanted me to go to the hospital, but Sam came and got me.” He laughed. “As if werewolves don’t heal on their own.”
The Order. My fingers itched as trepidation rose in my throat. “And where did they find you?”
“Outside the Hall of Inquiry.”
I froze, chains dangling in my hands. “Fuck.”
“What?” Jaxson asked.