18. Lynx #2
I’m still on the step outside the front door when Jet comes to find me a few hours later.
He sits down next to me. “The Silver Blades are staying at the Premier Inn just outside of town.”
I don’t ask how he knows, trusting his information to be accurate. “They still there?”
“Far as I know.”
The fact they aren’t staying with Fox gives me some peace of mind that we’ve not suddenly reverted back to before the hunter council was established.
Those were dark fucking times, and even though things still aren’t ideal—fight rings being one reason—it’s better than it was.
“You think Fox and his crew are on their own?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t fucking trust any of them.”
“I know.” And I’m not about to try and convince him otherwise.
“The Silver Blades are a bunch of cunts,” he says matter-of-factly, “but they’ve always stuck to the rules.” He glances over at me, dark eyes finding mine, and says quietly. “I don’t think Fox gives a fuck.”
I don’t either.
And with the resources they have at their disposal, that’s fucking terrifying.
I stand and brush dirt off my jeans. “I think we should pay the Blades a visit before they leave town.”
“Fucking awesome,” Jet grumbles, but gets up to join me with no hesitation.
I’m not expecting them to give us much, if anything, but at least it’ll take my mind off Morgan.
The Premier Inn sits about a mile on the outskirts of town. It’s the usual set up, with a Beefeater pub stuck on the side.
We pull into the car park, and the weather is on our side because Tanner Grey and one of the others are outside having a pint and enjoying the sunshine.
Or they were until we rolled in.
They watch us park our bikes but make no move to get up or call for anyone else.
“You think they’re on their own?” Jet doesn’t take his eye off them as he unhooks his helmet.
I do the same. “I doubt it.” There’s no sign of Beck, but that means fuck all. He could be inside getting another round for all we know.
But we’re in a public space, and they aren’t the only ones outside.
“We assuming they don’t know about Fox and Morgan’s dad?” Jet asks quietly.
“Yep. For now.” I watch as he glances over at the pub and snarls. “Be nice,” I order as we walk over.
Jet grunts, but it’s not agreement, and I send a up a silent prayer that Grey doesn’t piss him off.
We get a few curious glances, but the people of this town are used to us. And one look at Jet’s moody fucking face is usually enough to put anyone else off.
But not Grey, apparently.
His expression doesn’t change, but I swear his eyes light up as Jet takes the seat across from him. He must have a death wish.
As if on cue, Jet’s lip curls and the look he sends Grey is nothing short of arctic.
It rolls off him like he’s Teflon and not for the first time I wonder what his deal is. But now isn’t the fucking time for that. “What do you know about Fox and his buddies?”
“Fuck off,” the guy with Grey snaps. His hands tighten round his empty glass, looking every bit like he wants to smash it into my face.
I grin at him, all teeth. Bring it.
“Marcus,” Grey says, voice casual. “Why don’t you go get us another round.” He gestures to me and Jet. “What do you want?”
“Seriously?” Marcus hisses.
Grey ignores him but raises an eyebrow at me, waiting.
There’s fuck all chance of Jet answering, so I order for both of us. Might as well if he’s offering. And I’m more than curious why he wants Marcus to go.
He waits until I nod that he’s out of hearing range, then leans forward. “I don’t know what Fox is doing here. We didn’t ask for backup and we can’t find out who sent his team, because no one wants to talk about it.”
“Fuck,” I run a hand through my hair. This is not good. “What does Beck think?”
Grey winces. “He’s not a fan. Fox hijacked our visit to your compound after Beck already told him no. But Fox is higher up the food chain, so he had no choice but to let him. They got into it afterwards, and—” Grey bites his lip, fingers tracing the rim of his glass as he debates how much to share.
It’s then I notice the scratches and bruising on his knuckles.
He pulls the collar of his T-shirt enough to reveal the edge of a white bandage. “Let’s just say there’s a reason it was only me and Marcus out here waiting for you.”
I’m not surprised they were expecting us, and I don’t bother to comment on it, because as happy as I am that there’s trouble in the hunter ranks, a rogue hunter group can only mean trouble for anyone in their vicinity.
That’s if they are rogue.
The possibility that Nico’s right and they’re involved with the fight rings would be a hundred times more terrifying if it’s sanctioned by the hunter council.
“Are they here under orders?” I hold my breath as Grey decides whether to answer.
He glances back at the door as it starts to open, revealing Marcus carrying our drinks. “I don’t know,” Grey whispers quickly. “No one’s fucking talking.” His gaze flicks to Jet so quickly any human would miss it, but I don’t. “But Fox is... there’s something off about him, Lynx.”
I think that’s the first time he’s ever called me that, and it feels wrong. The rest of that sentence chills me to the fucking bone, and Jet’s gone eerily still beside me.
Hunters protect their own at all costs. For Grey to feel strongly enough that he’s warning us about Fox, I think that’s all the confirmation we need that everything Nico says is true. Not that I didn’t believe him, but not gonna lie, a part of me was still hoping that he’d got it wrong.
“Here.” Marcus sets his tray on the table hard enough that beer sloshes over the sides.
“For fuck’s sake.” Grey reaches for his glass and wipes the bottom on the table before taking a drink.
Everything in me wants to get back on my fucking bike and race back to the compound, but I force myself to pick up my own glass. If there’s even a small chance of getting any more information out of these two, we need to take it.
I study Marcus as he takes a sip of his drink.
I hadn’t paid him much attention before—my mistake, because the signs of fighting are way more obvious on him than they are on Grey.
There’s a trace of blood in his hairline, the beginnings of a bruise on his cheek, and his hands are in the same state as Grey’s, maybe a little worse.
I’m not subtle, and Marcus doesn’t miss me checking him out.
“I take it Tanner filled you in while I was handily busy at the bar?” He glares at Grey, but there’s no heat in it. No, if I’m reading him right, it’s more resignation mixed with fear and worry.
“Don’t know what you mean,” I hedge, on the off chance I’m wrong.
Marcus rolls his eyes.
“I told them about Fox,” Grey says, surprising me.
“Fucking nutter,” Marcus grunts, and I think he means Grey until he adds, “The sooner he fucks off to wherever he came from, the better.”
And that’s just it. Where did he come from?
I don’t know how hunters work, apart from that they’re now governed by a council that’s supposed to ensure every fucker adheres to the rules they put in place to stop the slaughter of innocent shifters. “Why’s he here?”
Marcus studies his pint, and yeah, I’m getting nothing more out of him.
“We don’t know,” Grey says eventually.
Jet scoffs, getting his point across without speaking.
“It’s the truth.” Grey looks at him, but Jet has his gaze fixed on his hands.
He won’t look up, even though I know he can feel Grey’s stare.
Grey sighs, and I get the feeling our meeting’s coming to an end. “I don’t know why they’re here, but they’re holed up in that fucking house showing no signs of leaving anytime soon. We’re just giving you a heads-up.”
That fucking house.
The more they talk, the more convinced I am that they don’t know whose house it is. Or how Fox got it. Thank fuck.
“Why?” Jet finally looks up, and whatever Grey sees in his eyes has him temporarily lost for words. “Why bother telling us anything?”
“Call it professional courtesy,” Marcus answers instead. “We’ve done what we were sent here to do.”
“Checking up on us?” Jet sneers.
Marcus shrugs. “You and the Feral Beasts.” His gaze darts to Grey, then away again, and I wonder what the fuck that’s about. Wouldn’t surprise me if the FBs had been caught breaking the rules. Fuck knows it wouldn’t be the first time.
“Does that mean you’re leaving now?” Jet snaps, shoulders tensing like he’s waiting on the answer.
Grey sighs, and a confusing mix of scents carries over the table as the breeze picks up.
“Yeah. We’re leaving in the morning.” He spares one last look Jet’s way, but Jet is back to watching his hands again, then Grey stands and Marcus follows.
“We’ll see you in a few months.” He taps the table. “Take care, Lynx. Jet.”
We watch in silence as they head back inside.
Only when the door closes behind them do I blow out a breath. “Well, that didn’t fucking go how I expected.”
Jet hums, then takes a long pull of his beer. “You believe them?”
“Don’t you?” I raise my eyebrows in question, because at no point did they smell like they were lying, and Jet would’ve been all over that.
“I guess.” He drains the last of his drink and pushes the glass away. “Wish they were lying.”
“Yeah, me fucking too.”
It’s late in the afternoon by the time we roll back into the compound.
Hours since Morgan and the others left.
Depending on traffic, they should easily be there by now.
We’ve booked Morgan into a local B&B for a few nights while he gets his bearings.
And since it’s my fault he has to go away at all, I also made a substantial deposit into his bank account that should last him a while.
I doubt as a student he has the means to support himself, especially if he’s not working right now.
Beth has the unenviable task of breaking that news to him. I almost smile thinking of his face as she tells him. It’s fleeting though, because Morgan might be my main concern, but he’s not the club’s or the pack’s, and that’s what I need to focus on right now.
There’s a barbecue happening around the side of the house, the enticing aroma of cooked meat carrying on the breeze. I’m fucking starving, and I’m already heading that way when Cal bursts out of the front door, phone pressed to his ear.
Jet freezes beside me as we catch the tail end of the conversation.
“ Fuck ,” Cal spits, eyes meeting mine, rage replaces the warmth I’m used to seeing. “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”
He ends the call and stalks over to us, my blood already turning to ice in my veins because I fucking know . “They didn’t make it to Trenton territory.”
“It’s still early,” I grit out. Every single part of me rebels at the way his gaze softens because I don’t want to fucking hear it.
“They found bikes,” Cal says quietly, but there’s a steel edge to his voice. “About halfway along the main road into Trenton. Some of the Trenton pack were returning from a road trip, and they spotted what’s left of Beth’s Ninja in the undergrowth.”
“How do they know it’s hers?” The words are automatic. My mouth’s moving, but the rest of me is falling fast into a bottomless black pit and I can’t stop it.
“Because her fucking blood is all over it,” Cal snarls, grabbing me by the shoulders.
I snarl back, my wolf racing to the surface as my body reacts. Rage threatens to consume me, and I want nothing more than to give in and let it.
“I know ,” he hisses, grip tightening. “I know how you’re feeling right now, but I need you to fight it, Lynx.” He presses his forehead to mine, his familiar scent enveloping me. “It’s not just Morgan that’s missing. It’s Beth , Flint , and Mal , and they all need their alpha right now.”
“He’s mine ,” I growl around teeth that are lengthening by the second. “And someone fucking took him.”
Cal swears and then the tang of magic fills the air. Razor-edged claws pierce my clothing and break the skin underneath. He doesn’t stop until they’re buried deep in my shoulders.
Pain.
It’s the one thing that cuts through everything else.
I tip my head back, howling as it barrels through me, hot and sharp, pulling me back from the edge with a force that has me gasping for breath.
Blood coats my T-shirt, running down my arms and dripping onto the ground.
But my mind is clear.
Clear enough to roar and shove Cal backwards so hard he lands on his arse.
“You with us?” he snaps, brown eyes blazing.
I crack my neck from side to side, a cold fury filling me up inside. “Yes.” I hold out a hand and pull him up.
“Good.” He grins, lethal and terrifying. “Let’s fucking go.”
I don’t have the patience to call for backup, so it’s just the three of us that roar out of the compound, dust filling the air in our wake and one thought going round and round in my head.
Whoever took them is fucking dead.