The large coach bus hummed through the inky blackness of the night. Its windows, darkly tinted, effectively concealed the human cargo within, though the precaution felt almost superfluous on the deserted stretch of road they traversed.
A thick glass partition sealed off the driver's compartment from the rows of captive passengers. Similarly, the emergency exit at the rear was guarded by another impenetrable glass panel, behind which stood two more men, clad in black tactical gear, their postures rigid and alert.
All four men maintained a vigilant watch over their quarry. One, a hulking figure named Billy, kept an especially keen eye on the unconscious woman, Trinity. Her hands and feet were securely bound, and a thin, glinting silver rope cinched her to her seat. It was a measure they hadn't anticipated needing for any of the defectives.
But Billy, holding the highest rank among the pack members present, had insisted.
No matter how many times his gaze swept over the subdued group, it inevitably returned to the black-haired girl. He had briefly considered leaving her in the bar parking lot with the rogue male who had caused the initial disruption. But her name was on the list. She was designated as one of the defectives.
Her scent, a faint but distinct anomaly, had been the first confirmation of her defective status. That alone was grounds enough for capture. But he also recognized her face from the countless others he'd been tasked with apprehending. Her striking combination of bright blue eyes, stark black hair, and pale skin gave her an almost vampiric appearance, even if she was a defective wolf.
Billy's initial intention had been to secure her like the others, with as much efficiency and as little fuss as possible. But then he'd seen it – the fleeting, almost imperceptible shift in the color of her eyes when she'd looked at the rogue. It had been so quick, a mere flicker, but he knew what he'd witnessed. It had looked like her wolf trying to emerge. Which made no logical sense. Wolves emerged in prepubescence, around eighteen months to two years of age. A pup might display nascent wolf traits, a subtle change in eye color signaling the shift from human to wolf cells, but not a full, adult emergence. It could have been a trick of the dim neon light in the bar, a phantom echo of what she was supposed to be, like them.
He hadn't been willing to risk it. A swift, precise punch to the side of her head had rendered her unconscious. He'd had to carefully calibrate his strength; after all, she shouldn't possess the enhanced resilience of a full-blooded wolf, the gulf between her and him in terms of physical power vast.
Once she was out, he'd quickly checked for a pulse. He had a gut feeling this one was significant. Her name, specifically her last name, echoed through fragmented pack lore. If his hunch was correct, she might garner a sliver more consideration than the others.
"Sir?"
The wolf stationed beside him spoke, his gaze also fixed on the girl, but his attention was drawn to her bound wrists. The thin silver rope, innocuous to humans, was already causing a visible reaction. Unlike their own immediate, agonizing burn and cellular breakdown upon contact with silver, the girl was developing a severe rash wherever the metal touched her skin. It wasn't the same lethal reaction, but it was clearly causing her discomfort.
The tall, muscular young man beside her was another matter. His protective stance, the fierce worry etched on his face, screamed of a deep connection to the unconscious girl. They had opted to seat them together, hoping proximity would pacify the agitated male. Separating mates, if that's what they were, would necessitate further, potentially messy, subduing.
The young man, identified as Ryan, gently brushed a stray strand of black hair from Trinity's pale cheek. He then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his glare fixed on their captors with raw, untamed fury. Even though holding her to him undoubtedly exacerbated the rash forming on his own skin where the silver touched her, he seemed oblivious to his own discomfort.
Definitely her mate, Billy thought, a flicker of surprise registering within him. He hadn't known defectives could form such strong bonds. He'd make a note of this unusual pairing in both their files, a crucial detail to avoid unnecessary conflict if separation became necessary. Soft whimpers punctuated the tense silence within the bus. Billy's enhanced hearing picked out the faint sounds of distress – the quiet sobs of some of the younger captives, their fear a palpable entity in the confined space. Ryan's jaw was clenched tight, his gaze darting between Trinity's still form and the impassive faces of their captors. Grayson… where are you? he thought, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. He had seen his brother's desperate struggle outside, heard his enraged shouts. The image of Grayson being overpowered, his raw power useless against the coordinated attack, replayed in his mind, fueling his impotent rage.