Original Jack had followed them out. I couldn’t see them—they were crouched behind the trap and hopefully screened from the hunters’ notice—but I could see a flash of Original Jack’s red flannel shirt between the mesh that made up the spell. Hopefully the trio was digging out the two daggers near the back of the trap that anchored the spell.
If they can get two out, the wolves might have a chance at busting through. But they need both out—one won’t be enough.
“If you wish to be stupid and ignore the obvious signs in front of your face—that the Pack is not as good and moral as you believe—that’s your wish. But you won’t be interrupting our investigation. Take her away.” Amos pointed at two of his minions.
“Um,” I stalled, not sure what to do.
It’s not like I can start a fist fight. There are what…nine of them out here? I won’t survive those kinds of odds.
Amos’s minions stepped forward, each of them taking one of my arms so they could manhandle me however they wished.
“Uncle, are you sure about this?” Scarlett glanced at me as she sidled closer to Amos. “What we’re doing isn’t legal—there are rules for this.”
“Nonsense,” Amos said. “This is in the pursuit of safety. The Pack’s lies must be uncovered.”
“Except they haven’t done anything bad to any of the humans around them,” Radcliff said. “Even if they’re using something to help their change rate, they work more with humans than the majority of werewolf—or shifter—Packs.”
Scarlett nodded. “Mom said if Hunter Sabre didn’t think there were any problems—”
“That’s enough.” Amos’s voice was hot and painful, like the crack of a whip. “I don’t want to hear any more out of either of you.”
Radcliff fidgeted and looked rebelliously at Scarlett, but Scarlett worriedly glanced at the rest of the hunters—who did nothing to stop Amos.
Amos started to turn and stride in the direction of the trap, while the two hunters holding my arms started to escort me toward the forest.
The trap is still too bright—I don’t know that they’ve even gotten one dagger pried up—I need to stall!
“Wait!” I shouted, making him and the hunters nudging me stop.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”
Stretching my leg out as far as I could, I scraped the toe of my boot against the cuff of his pants. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m totally going to join your little…rebellion thing.”
Amos shook his head. “It’s too late for you, Sabre. You’re loyal to the wolves.”
“Mmm nah, I’ve reformed. I swear.” I wasn’t trying to be convincing—even Amos wasn’t that stupid—as much as I was trying to reel him into an argument. “Wolves? Pft! They’re the worst. All that fur gets everywhere.”
Amos narrowed his eyes. “She’s stalling! Check in with the other team!”
“Yessir.” Another minion pulled out a phone and tapped away on it.
“And check the trap!” Amos added. “I want these wolves secured before we eliminate them.”
“WHAT?!” This time I didn’t have to fake my shout—or my horror.
Amos smirked back at me. “Did you think we’d let them survive and share whatever magic it is they’re hoarding?”
“You can’t be serious—they’re werewolves. They’re people!”
“I told you before, Sabre. They’re going against the way things should be. Therefore, it is up to us to correct it.”
“You’re talking about a massacre! The supernatural community will hunt you down for this!” I shouted.
“I don’t care what the community thinks of us,” Amos coldly said. “They’ve made it abundantly clear that toadying up to those with power—even if they’re little more than beasts—is more important than seeing to the way things should be.”
“You can’t do this!” My voice pitched into a scream with my fear. “Amos!”
Amos ignored me as he strode up toward the trap, several of his hunters flanking him.
They’d be on Amelia and the Jacks.
“Uncle, we’re not doing this,” Scarlett announced.
“This is way beyond the code of hunters,” Radcliff added.
“Then stand aside—or go hide behind your mother,” Amos said indifferently. “The Fletchings are mine now.”