“That sounds great, but”—he held up a finger—“don’t go alone. Make sure you let one or two of the guys outside tail you. The hearing isn’t until ten, so you should have plenty of time. I don’t want you wandering around the city unguarded. If Lincoln tries anything, it’ll be tomorrow. My sources say he’s pissed and stressed about this hearing. A dog backed into a corner is the most dangerous.”
“Oh, for sure,” I said. “Not a chance I’d go alone.”
“Good to hear,” JC said.
I glanced around the apartment, wondering how best to broach the next topic. Finally, I let the words tumble from my mouth.
“You said it would be hard to get Nate into the pack right now, correct?”
“I did,” JC said slowly.
“Well, I had a thought. Something that might help things along.”
JC lifted an eyebrow and leaned forward again. “Yes?”
A thought had percolated in my mind ever since discovering how Nate’s parents died. If that wreck had happenedinsideToronto pack lands, then there was a good chance they might have been members.
“Do you, by chance, recognize the names Jacob and Rosa Bishop?” I asked, doing my best not to cross my fingers.
JC’s smile vanished. “Excuse me?”
Excitement and hope flickered in my heart.
“Jacob and Rosa Bishop. I’m certain they were Nate’s parents. They died when he was little, and…”
I trailed off, noticing that JC was gaping at me.
“Are you serious?” he finally asked.
“Uh… yeah,” I said, suddenly nervous. His reaction was a little confusing. “Is that a bad thing?”
The smile returned to JC’s face. “Not bad, no. In fact, I think whatever plan you have is going to work out just fine.”
As he explained everything to me, my jaw slowly fell open. Shock and exhilaration… that was all I could feel as he spoke.
JC was right. If my idea didn’t work now, itneverwould.
52
Cameron
Nate walked ahead of me, his steps faster with each stride. He wasn’t running, yet somehow he moved with a speed that was otherworldly. Ahead of us, the bait shop stood against the backdrop of the trees.
“Nate?” I called, my voice echoing as if I was screaming into a cave. “Nate, let me explain.”
He didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge my presence at all. Instead, he moved faster, heading straight toward the building.
“Nate, I’m sorry! I should have told you sooner.”
I tried to run, to sprint toward Nate, but my legs felt like they were caught in mud or syrup. When I glanced down, though, there was nothing holding me back.
I frantically looked around, but Nate had vanished into the fog.
“Nate?”
My worry for him broke whatever spell my legs were under, and I sprinted forward.
“There you are,” a growling voice called from the mist ahead of me. A shadowy form came out of the fog, moving closer.
