Axel took a deep breath and sighed audibly. “I doubt they’ll be that stupid—not if they think the Packmaster is on the move. Their leader has given them orders to capture or kill the alphas, because that’s the only way to claim land. It’s you they’ll be hunting for. How do you know they’re not coming now?”
“Two Packmasters and I set a date. The only other men who know that date are the ones who were sent to infiltrate their camps. On that date, they’ll spread rumors that some of us are leaving for Mexico and others grew impatient and are packing up to hunt down the Northerners. They won’t know what to believe, but they’ll realize they’ll have to move into action before we do. We have a call system set up, and the day before, we’ll contact all the Packmasters in the territory to give them a heads-up. Some plan to hunker down in the house, and that’s fine. I personally don’t feel safe shut up in a house and surrounded. We’ve worked our asses off to prepare, and my pack is ready to fight. We’re not going in the woods to hide; we’re going in to hunt.”
Axel groomed the hair on his chin with one hand. “This might actually work. We have out-of-state license plates, and if they come up on us, we’ll say we got wind there’s free land up for grabs. I don’t want to get my men tangled up in your traps, so we’ll camp out in your yard. Just let me know D-day, and we’ll move our bikes up to the main road and keep an eye on things. Anyone who tries to come up your road…” He made a slicing motion across his neck.
Austin swatted at a fly. “We don’t have any traps set up by the private road, so put a couple of your men behind the tree line. I’ll give you Reno’s number. I think he’ll have a Bluetooth or some shit on his ear.”
“What about guards?”
“I have one or two at any given time,” Austin replied, sitting back in his chair. “They do regular patrols around the property line, searching for any unfamiliar scents or intruders. Your men are safe to camp out until then. Won’t be long. We’ll just have to lay down some rules.”
“Yeah, the bathroom situation…” Axel trailed off.
“Since we have a D-day,” I said, using my fingers as quotation marks, “why don’t you guys head up the road to that motel? It’s real nice, and you can probably put four in a room if they’re willing to share. They have cool air, beds, and a swimming pool.”
Austin stood up. “Lexi has a point. I don’t think we have enough meat in the house to last us the week, let alone feed your pack. And yeah, the bathroom situation…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “If you want to stay here while your men head out and get some rest, I can lay out the plan with you.”
Axel rose to his feet and kicked the tip of his boot against the porch, shaking off a clump of dirt. “We’ll arrange a meeting, but I can’t leave my pack. My second-in-command is back home watching over the house, so that would mean putting my third in charge, and he’s the ass who was riling up your packmate a few moments ago. We’ll settle in, and I’ll talk to your Council so we don’t get reported as rogues and tossed out on our asses. Now wouldn’t that be an embarrassment?”
Both men laughed and headed down the steps.
Austin clapped a hand on Axel’s shoulder. “I’ll talk to the motel owner. He owes me a big discount.”
We gave that guy more business every time we had a peace party. We directed guests to his motel who were either too tired to drive home or just wanted time alone with their mate.
I went inside, hearing “Hungry Like the Wolf” still playing upstairs.
“A bomb could drop and they’d never know it,” I muttered to myself.
Jericho emerged from the bathroom beneath the stairs, his Pink Floyd shirt tucked halfway in his pants.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“Out back. Lynn didn’t want anyone in the house with all that hungry going on up there,” he said, pointing at the ceiling. “His song choice was cool at first, but now every time I hear that song at the bar I think about Denver and Maizy getting it on.”
I snatched a pencil on a nearby table and tossed it into a wastebasket.
Jericho laughed.
“What?”
He shook his head and threaded his brown locks away from his face. “The nesting thing gets me every time. Remember when Isabelle threw away all the silverware? She read some article in a magazine about children poking forks into light sockets. Apparently she didn’t read the part about installing outlet covers.”
I chuckled and stood with my back to the sofa. “My mother had a conniption.”
“Then she wanted to learn how to knit after reading about chemicals in fabrics. You pregnant types should stay far away from those magazines.”
“Don’t worry, I haven’t gone overboard.”
He cocked his eyebrow. “Yet.” Jericho stood next to me and leaned against the back of the sofa. He placed his left hand on my belly. “Kicking much? The boys are looking forward to a cousin they can roughhouse with, and I can always use a good drummer for my band.”
“By the time this child is old enough to roughhouse, your boys will be old enough to buy beer.”
He played with the unlit cigarette resting behind his ear. “Damn. Time flies. I better get on Isabelle about having more kids.”