SEVENTY minutes later, Hawke had another discussion, this time with a much tighter group. Him, Riley, Judd, the two DarkRiver sentinels who’d attended the meeting, plus Lucas and Sascha. They met outside the alpha pair’s cabin. Hawke didn’t tease the leopard male today, knowing how on edge he had to be, having his mate so close to those who weren’t Pack. It didn’t matter that the wolves were allies—it was about the animal’s need to protect.
Frankly, Hawke was surprised Lucas had agreed to the meeting . . . but no, perhaps he wasn’t. Sascha and Lucas had the kind of relationship that every alpha craved, Hawke included. Sascha wasn’t just a lover, wasn’t simply a playmate in the best sense of the world; she was a partner, Lucas’s first port of call when he needed advice.
It was instinctive to think of Sienna. So young . . . too young.
Ming was, and probably still is, the best of the best when it comes to martial strategy. No matter who’s running this, I can outthink them if I think like him.
Frowning at the reminder of exactly how she’d gained that depth of knowledge, he turned to Luc. “What’s your gut say?” He knew the alpha had sat in on the meeting via the subtle comm system Vaughn had been wearing.
“Nikita’s right—no way to pin the violence on the Scotts, though everything points to them.” Lucas rubbed at his stubbled jaw. “But who says we have to?”
“If we strike back and hit the wrong target,” Hawke responded, “we lose the element of surprise.”
“I know it’s not my mother,” Sascha said from the cushioned wicker chair positioned against the cabin wall. “Not because she’s my mother, but because I know how she works. If someone was trying to mount a hostile takeover of SnowDancer’s assets, cut you off at the knees in financial terms, I’d be the first to point the finger at her.”
“It’s not Anthony,” Vaughn said without clarifying. The fact that he was mated to Anthony’s daughter, however, did give the jaguar changeling a high level of credibility. It also made Hawke wonder, not for the first time, about Anthony Kyriakus’s loyalties.
“I agree with Nikita about Ming and Kaleb Krychek,” Judd said. “Ming’s taken a hit with the loss of the Arrows and will still be consolidating his remaining troops. I can say with categorical certainty that the squad won’t have mobilized on this big an operation for Kaleb yet.”
Riley, pragmatic as always, asked the critical question. “Does Krychek have access to other operatives?”
“Yes. But fact is, he’s a powerful enough telekinetic that he doesn’t need anyone when it comes down to it. This is a man who could cause an earthquake, collapse the entire city.”
“Jesus,” Vaughn said as Lucas whistled. “Seriously?”
“His abilities are so far off the scale that the Gradient is meaningless.” Judd’s tone was matter-of-fact. “He’s a master game player, so I won’t discount him totally, but Kaleb’s got two powerful packs in his region, and he’s exhibited no aggression toward either.”
“BlackEdge and StoneWater.” Riley nodded. “We’ve got a line of communication with them, and from what they’ve shared, it looks like Krychek leaves them alone as long as they do the same with him. Doesn’t make sense that he’d come out here to pick a fight with us.”
“If we take Krychek off the table,” Hawke said, “it leaves us with the same three Anthony and Nikita fingered.”
“We go after all three.” Lucas’s tone was hard. “Surgical strikes, same as their hit.”
Hawke, his mind awash in the blood scent and pain of his fallen, growled in agreement. “It has to be hard, and it has to be fast.” The enemy had to understand the packs had teeth and no hesitancy about using them.
“The Scotts and Tatiana,” Judd said, “are all protected behind walls of near-impregnable security. It’s going to be difficult to get close to them.”
“Not them,” Sascha said, then yawned. “Sorry.”
Everyone laughed, and the moment provided some much-needed levity.
“Okay, what I was saying before I fell asleep”—she leaned against her mate’s thigh, where he stood with his back to the wall by her side—“is that you don’t go after them. You go after something that represents them. Something big and shiny.”
Judd’s eyes landed on Sascha. “Are you sure you’re an empath?”
“I grew up with Nikita for a mother.”
It was relatively easy to choose a target for Henry Scott—his London residence was in an eminent location and worth millions. The bonus was that Judd had been in and around the place as an Arrow, knew how their people could evade security. Shoshanna Scott also presented little problem. She’d bought a huge office building in Dubai a month ago—currently untenanted, it had minimal security.
“No casualties—security guards have to be clear before we strike,” Hawke said, because killing innocents would make them no better than the Councilors. “We don’t compromise on this.”