Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
Jax
Morning Meeting
Despite unleashing my frustrations on my eagerly willing hubby, I still don’t sleep well.
I don’t sleep at all.
As in I finally give up trying around 2:00 and pad out to the living room, stretch out on the couch, and watch TV with the volume turned low so I don’t wake Shawn.
No reason for both of us to be miserable.
Despite my order at the meeting, and my hope that my pack will all comply…
I’m no idiot.
Someone will say the wrong thing to the wrong person—accidentally or on purpose—and Mal’s identity, and the fact that he’s here on our land, will get out to the wrong person. Then I’ve got extra trouble I do not need.
And yet I can’t get the look on Todd’s face tonight out of my mind.
I know he’s already in love with Mal—that’s a given. I’ve never seen him act like this before, no matter who it was.
But even he can’t swear to me that they’re mates.
Unless or until he can, I have to proceed as if they aren’t.
With all this going on, I ordered Kennedy, my head of security for the pack compound, to add a new gatehouse outside the current compound boundary on the main road.
We own additional land we haven’t fenced in or started building on yet, but no reason to tempt fate.
Currently, the pack office is about 100 yards outside the main gate, which is how Marchman was able to breeze right in the way he did.
I’ve resisted putting the office inside the compound because I didn’t want to create an additional burden for people needing to seek refuge with us.
But times have quickly and radically changed.
Time for us to build the new and upgraded main guardhouse we’ve been planning for over a year. We can temporarily run chain-link fencing with razor wire on top from the main fence line to the new guardhouse until we can properly build out the wall that will go there.
No, it won’t stop a shifter or vampire or other creature determined to cross onto our land and cause trouble, but if we can make it more difficult for them and slow them down, that could be the crucial difference between life and death for our people.
The other three guardhouses will be getting upgrades, too, but we rarely have anyone except packmates show up at those gates.
On maps the roads don’t even exist. Deliveries, mail, and everyone else are routed through the main gate for security.
We’ll lock them down and tell people not to use them for the duration while we still keep armed guards there as backup.
I grab my phone and make a note to talk to Kennedy about increasing our cameras on the boundaries, too.
I’m glad Chaz volunteered to coordinate sentry duty because Kennedy is already stretched thin as it is, with four of his people unable to work full-time due to being pregnant, or their mates are pregnant.
Yeah, we had eight wolf omegas come into heat within four days of each other, and four of them caught, two on purpose, and two unexpected but fortunately happy accidents.
That happens sometimes. Every few years, at least, we have a “baby boom” that’s coincidental.
But I need Kennedy and his people, who have plenty of experience guarding our perimeter, to be the ones out there on the front lines if we’re facing a potential risk.
Chaz is more than capable of organizing a group of competent sentries to keep the refugees safe.
Not that I truly think any of our people will attack them, but I want a second line of defense since I’ve accepted responsibility for their safety.
And having sentries will quell any remaining anxieties from the pack about the refugees being here.
I hope what Sam, Helen, Todd, and Chaz all said at the meeting will strongly resonate with the attendees and spread throughout the rest of the pack.
I think Sam and Helen, more than anyone, provided a tipping point in the right direction when they weren’t Alphas and they were shaming the other attendees who wanted to grumble about literal children being under our protection.
By the time 4:30 rolls around I’ve given up and start a pot of coffee before heading to the guest bath to shower because I don’t want to wake Shawn. But when I emerge with a towel wrapped around my hips, he’s sleepily smiling as he walks toward me with two mugs of coffee.
He won’t release mine until I kiss him, though, which I do. “Why are you up, baby?”
“Same question,” he says, arching an eyebrow at me. “Apparently, I didn’t do a good job wearing you out last night.”
I brush another kiss across his lips. “You did, but everything on my mind just…”
Shawn takes a sip of his coffee and nods. “It’s everything.”
“Pretty much, yeah. You can go back to bed if you want.”
“No, sleep’s not happening for me, either. I figured I’d wait first thing when the detail place opens this morning with my car and then head to the office, since you’ll be at the rec center.”
I lean against the wall. “Do you think last night went okay?”
He nods again. “I do. There will still be a few who freak out, especially if they weren’t present, but the points brought up probably cut through the bullshit for the majority of them and gave them perspective to counteract their reactivity.”
“I hope you’re right.” I head to our bathroom to shave and get dressed while Shawn takes his shower. I already have breakfast started when he emerges dressed and shaved, and I’m on my third cup of coffee.
I leave for the office a little after 5:30 with a travel mug of coffee, making that my fifth at this point.
My blood type might be Arabica by the time this day really cranks up.
It’s not quite dawn yet, but I want to clear recent emails from my inbox before I head over to the rec center to pick up where we left off yesterday. We have enough guys helping out it shouldn’t take us more than a couple of days to complete the prep work, but it’d be nice to have more hands.
I don’t even turn on the lights. I walk in, lock the door behind me, and head to my office. I didn’t bring my laptop home yesterday because I knew I’d be busy.
While it’s booting, I lean back in my chair and sip my coffee. It’ll be nice seeing Dad and Pops, but I feel bad that Elliot and Bobby aren’t coming with them. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Owen, my next youngest brother, at least a couple of years since the last time.
A flash of guilt rolls through me because I really need to make time to go out and visit with him.
I love his ranch, and Shawn and I had a blast running shifted out there on our last visit.
He’s not mated yet. He frequently dates human women as well as shifter women but hasn’t found anyone he wants to settle down with yet.
I think he’s still holding out to meet a shifter who rings his bell with a mate bond like our parents have, and like I have.
Kevin and Edward, the next two younger, are both Alphas, too. They will be coming to help out once the refugees arrive, but they both run businesses and have to clear their schedules. Neither of them are mated, so at least that’s one less thing I feel guilty about.
Once I open my email, I start by deleting the obvious junk before I skim through my messages.
A few people wanting to volunteer to help stand sentry—obviously, they can’t follow directions because I told everyone to run it through Chaz—but I forward them to him.
I send Kenneth a message about the cameras, go through a few other messages needing my attention, and the rest can wait.
Or so I thought. As I’m preparing to shut it down, a new email message pops up.
From Morning Caldwell.
The current fae leader.
The subject line sends a chill through me for some reason, although I don’t have a logical explanation for it:
We need to talk this morning.
Innocuous, right? The body of the message consists of his phone number, which I already have, and that’s it.
Fuuuuck.
The hackles on the back of my neck uncomfortably prickle, and I even turn just to make sure there’s no one in the office with me.
I’ve had a few dealings with the fae, although the ones I have had were genial, as best I could tell.
Since the man just sent the email, he’s obviously awake. I text him from my work phone.
What’s up?
Can you meet me in Ocala this morning to talk? Alone?
I study the message, still not feeling any better. I respond.
We can’t do this over the phone?
I prefer in person. As soon as possible. Urgent, regarding logistics.
I rock back in my chair again. This obviously wasn’t what I wanted to do this morning on top of everything else.
Of course, I’m going to carry. I’m carrying now, duh.
I nearly always carry concealed when I’m out and about.
Not that I think a gun would give me much of an advantage over someone as old and powerful as Morning Caldwell.
Maybe more of an advantage over him than it would be a vampire, but I also suspect if this was bad-bad, Father would have already called to give me a heads-up.
I hope.
Then again, I had no clue about the dealings with vampires before all this happened.
Already mentally rearranging my schedule in my head, I reply.
Sure. Send me an address. What time?
How long will it take you to get here?
Followed by an address.
I groan because I was hoping he didn’t literally mean as soon as possible.
I pull it up on a map app and it’s a small mom-and-pop diner not too far from I-75. I send him my eta after adding a time cushion, and he sends me a thumbs-up in response.
After texting Shawn about my change in plans and where I’m heading—because I’m not an idiot—I get in the truck and start driving.
It’s past dawn when I arrive at the little restaurant and quickly spot him sitting in a booth in the back with no one around him. I’ve never met him before but I can tell he’s fae just from the energy I sense radiating around him.
No, they don’t have pointed ears.
I mean, not usually. Not the ones I’ve met.