A few minutes later, our convoy turned south to approach the cemetery from its northern access point. Some of the agents and wolves had turned off earlier to secure the southern exit near Staley Lake Road and the south half of Center Plains Trail.
We slowed to a creep and rolled over a set of train tracks, then pulled to a stop just off Cemetery Crossing Trail.
A pair of Order SUVs drove a little ahead with lights off to set up a roadblock just in case the bikers decided to hop on their bikes and blow past us.
“Here we go,” Jaxson said as he slipped out of the cab.
I jumped out and pulled my bulletproof vest from the back. We weren’t sure if they’d be packing heat, but the vests also worked well against claws.
I’d found that out the hard way.
Behind us, the rest of the pack trucks pulled up, and werewolves hopped out.
Those that were wolfborn started stripping to transform. Others, like Tony, were shifters and could transform clothes and all. I’d never stop being jealous of that trick.
Sam, already a wolf, brushed against me as she walked by, and I let my fingers drag through her fur in a friendly way. She’d be backing up the agents, ready to do what was necessary if they weren’t. Tony, third in the chain of command, was organizing the wolves that would be in the deep woods to the east and west. They’d be ready to take down the bikers by any means.
All around him, Jaxson put people in place he trusted with the fate of his pack. Sam. Tony. Regina. Even Billy, once.
Did he trust me to do my job, to understand what was at stake beyond my own fucked-up battle to the death with Dragan? Did he wonder if I was here for myself or for the pack?
Turning to meet him, I placed a hand on his chest, rose up on my toes, and let my lips lightly brush across his cheek. Waves of energy raced along my skin, but I gently lowered back on my heels. “I’m with you.”
His eyes dilated.
I glanced at the guns and the wolves around us, then walked over to Harlow to check the agents’ status. Perhaps I could have said something more to Jaxson, but I hoped it was enough.
A few minutes later, Jaxson pounded on the hood of his truck. “Okay, everyone, gather up.”
Agents and wolves formed a tight circle around him.
Jaxson leaned casually on his truck, but his presence pressed heavily over all of us. “Lucius Grayling is possessed by a monster known as Victor Dragan. He and his biker gang are performing a ritual. If they succeed, it means the end of our pack and catastrophe for Magic Side. Stopping the ritual is our number-one priority. Catching Dragan and bringing him in is number two. If we fail at both of those things, we’re fucked. There is no room for failure, does everyone understand?”
Our team voiced their assent as one. A good sign.
Jaxson looked to Harlow. “You brought maps?”
Everyone gathered around, and Harlow spread some maps out on the hood of Jaxson’s truck. “The southern roadblock is here,” she said, tracing her finger over the paper. “We’ll come from the north. We assume that they’ll be holding the ritual in the cemetery, so we’ll spread out in the woods north of there. If Grayling doesn’t surrender, we’ll nuke him with gas.”
She looked at the werewolves that had already shifted. “Stay clear of it, or you’ll be out cold in seconds.”
Jaxson nodded to Tony and his team. “If the bikers try to escape, bring them down. But keep in mind that taking out Dragan is our priority. If we cut off the head, the rest will follow.”
Jaxson finished reviewing assignments, and the six Order agents grabbed their riot guns and sleeping potions.
With a low growl, Jaxson gave us all a bloodthirsty grin. “Let’s go fuck this ritual up.”