11. Lynx
LYNX
“Where are we with the handover?” I ask, knowing full well that’s not why they called this meeting, but we’ll get to that later.
Mal taps his fingers on the table. “Tyler’s ready to go. Just waiting to arrange a time and place.”
“Make it soon. I don’t need them here if we have a surprise visit from any hunters.” They like to do spot checks to make sure we’re sticking to the rules. I don’t want to have to explain how we’ve suddenly acquired two new shifters.
Jet straightens. “We’re keeping Nico.”
It’s not a question.
It’s also not his decision to make.
But I’ve already discussed this with Corey. “We are. For now.”
There are a few raised eyebrows around the table.
“Before you all get pissy, I’m following Corey’s advice.
” I glance at Jet. I know he’s been spending time with Nico, but I’m reluctant to put him on the spot and ask him.
He’s not exactly the sharing type. Especially with an audience.
“Corey thinks Nico was human when they took him for the fight ring.”
“Fuck.” Mal slumps in his seat. “So they’re snatching humans now? And what? Changing them just so they can fight?”
“Maybe. I don’t know until we talk to him.”
Growls rumble around the table. I don’t blame them.
“Have they run out of shifters to kidnap?” Callum hisses, hands curling into fists. “Man, I wish we knew who these fuckers are.”
A chorus of agreements follow.
We’re working on it, have been ever since we heard that shifter fight rings existed, but information is scarce if you’re not involved. Big money changes hands at these events, and those in charge go to great lengths, any lengths , to protect them.
“We could try the hunters again,” Mal offers.
“Maybe if we let them see Nico—” Jet snarls at him from across the table and Mal immediately raises his hands.
“It was just a thought. They weren’t interested before, but if we have proof that humans are being used.
..” He shrugs. “That’s all I’m saying.”
“He has a point,” I add, ignoring the glare Jet sends my way. “But if we do that, there’s a risk of someone finding out how he came to be here. Since we don’t know who runs the fight rings, we don’t know who they’re connected to.”
Mal huffs. “Hunters are all about the fucking rules. No way they’re involved.”
“I’m not saying they are, but it just takes one of them saying something to someone they know.
..” I glance around the table, noting the frustration and anger pouring off every single one of us.
“We don’t get enough people out as it is,” I say softly.
“Telling the hunters about Nico is a risk I’m not sure we can afford to take. ”
Silence.
“We can’t trust them,” Jet says after a beat. His eyes meet mine, forest-green and so full of emotion I’m stunned.
Rarely does he let anything show, but hunters will always be a raw wound for him. “We don’t,” I assure him. “But they’ve come a long way from how it used to be.”
“Have they?” His lip curls back, revealing teeth that sharpen as we all watch.
He sits forward, one hand rubbing over the centre of his chest, and I wonder if he even realises he’s doing it.
We all know what’s under there, he doesn’t hide the scars when he shifts, but in all the years I’ve known him, he’s only spoken once about how he got them.
And no one here would ever bring it up again.
It’s a deep wound that will never fully heal, but things have changed.
“You know they have,” I remind him, soft but firm. “The hunter groups aren’t like they used to be. There are rules for them as well as us.”
“And who enforces that?” His eyes flash, claws sliding out to join his fangs, and I’m suddenly regretting not having this meeting outside. “Who punishes them when they step out of line?”
I don’t have time to get into all this again. Not now. Not when we still have other shit to sort out. “We won’t tell the hunters about Nico, but we might need to explain his presence, if and when they pay us a visit.”
“Can’t we tell them a version of the truth?” Callum says. “He’s injured, right? Corey said something about his leg being permanently damaged.” I nod for him to carry on. “Shifters get thrown out of packs for less. We can say he was an outcast and we took him in.”
“They’ll want to know what pack he came from. For their records.”
Callum shrugs. “We’ll tell them they beat him so bad, he can’t remember much. That’s not a lie.”
“I don’t mean to be an insensitive prick,” Mal cuts in. “But why don’t we just keep him out of sight? If he’s only here temporarily, then there’s no reason to tell the hunters anything.”
I don’t look at Jet, but I catch his flinch out of the corner of my eye. I can feel the tension rolling off him—the whole table can.
I know what he wants, even if he hasn’t said anything. “Jet?” He might not enjoy being the centre of attention, but if he wants this, he’s going to have to ask for it and plead his case.
He stares back at me, not bothering to temper the anger in his gaze, all directed at me.
Well, tough shit.
I wait him out, the air getting thicker by the second.
“He needs to stay for good,” he grits out, like the words hurt.
“Be part of our pack.” Jet looks around the table as he speaks, daring anyone to object.
“Nico doesn’t know how to be a shifter, because all his experience comes from that fucking fight ring.
He’s alone and scared. We can’t send him away to another pack full of strangers.
” His claws dig into the wood surface of the table.
“Not when he’s just starting to feel safe. ”
That’s the most passionate I’ve heard him in a long while. About something other than his hatred for hunters anyway. There’s more than one shocked face around the table as we absorb his words.
He’s giving off strong protective vibes, but I don’t sense anything more.
Not like the way I feel about Morgan.
Whatever it is, in the short time he’s been here, Nico has obviously had an effect on Jet. I’d let him stay on that evidence alone, but we all need to agree on this. “Let’s put it to the vote.”
Jet retracts his claws and slumps back in his seat. But he nods at me, knowing this is the only way.
“All those in favour of offering Nico a place in our pack, raise your hand.” We all raise our hands in a unanimous show of support for Jet, and the small smile we get in return is everything . “Looks like we have a new pack mate.”
I offer Jet the honour of talking to Nico about it first before I go and see him, which he readily accepts. That leaves us with one more item on the agenda, and I can’t put it off any longer.
All eyes turn to me.
“So, Morgan knows what we are.” This bit isn’t news to them. They all heard our chat upstairs. “What do we do with him now?”
“There’s one obvious answer,” Mal says carefully.
“No,” I snap, and he holds his hands up.
“I was just saying what everyone’s thinking.” He glances around the table. “Right?”
Callum sighs. “So we can’t kill him. But he’s a liability, Lynx.”
“I know.” And I should give Mal’s suggestion more thought than I do, because it would be the easiest option. Still not fucking happening though.
“And never mind Nico,” Callum adds, “what do we do with Morgan if the hunters come here?”
“They’ll want to talk to him,” Mal says. “Find out if he knows the truth about us, and if we plan on turning him. As much as I hate Birch and his crew, if Morgan tells the hunters Birch attacked him, you know the fallout will affect both our packs.”
“Maybe.” I run my finger along the edge of the table, tracing patterns in the wood.
Since I’ve vetoed killing Morgan, I need to propose an alternative.
Hunters can be fair or a bunch of wankers, depending on what group you get.
Our pack and the FBs are relatively close territory-wise.
It’s not a stretch to assume we’ll be under scrutiny if they investigate them over Morgan’s attack. And we can’t afford to be watched.
“We could kick him out,” Jet offers. “Let the FBs take care of him.”
It shouldn’t, but his attitude towards Morgan is starting to piss me off. “And if he runs his mouth before that happens?”
Jet shrugs. “We scare the shit out of him so that he knows not to tell a fucking soul.”
I have to slide my hands under the table before I reach across it and grab him. It’s the opposite of how his alpha or president should behave, but instinct doesn’t give a shit about that.
I hate feeling this conflicted.
Hate it.
Jet is my friend, part of my pack, but Morgan is...
Trouble.
That’s what he is, and I need to deal with it before it escalates. “He told Ash he needed to leave town and disappear for a while, so we make that happen. Take the next few days to convince him it’s in his best interest to keep our secret and then escort him far enough that the FBs won’t follow.”
“What about the hunters?”
“Hopefully he’ll be gone before they decide to pay us a visit. If not, we say he’s a prospect who we have no intention of patching in.”
Callum looks less than convinced. “You think they’ll buy that?”
“We have to appear like a normal MC. They know that.” It’s thin at best, but we’re not due a hunter visit any time soon. Maybe we’ll get lucky.
He sits back in his seat and folds his arms. There’s a glint in his eye that I don’t like. I like what comes out of his mouth next, even less. “So some lucky bastard has to babysit him for the next few days and persuade him to keep quiet about us. I vote Jet.”
Mal laughs at the look of disgust on Jet’s face.
“Fuck off,” Jet grumbles. “I’m not babysitting anyone, but I can make sure he’s sufficiently terrified into keeping our secret.” He grins, dark and menacing.
Yeah, that’s not fucking happening.
It takes all my considerable control to keep my voice even and void of any alpha power. “Since I brought him here, he’s my problem. I’ll deal with it.”
None of them look all that surprised. Callum’s even smirking.
Fuck it.