25. Madd
TWENTY-FIVE
MADD
Ranger was waiting at the gate when we pulled up.
He didn't look thrilled. He’d been told to expect the arrival of someone who was about to criticize everything he and his team had built. His arms were folded and his eyes went straight to Conrad.
“Welcome back.” He made it sound like someone was dragging the words out of him, and I imagined how the conversation with Flint went when Alpha told him what to expect.
“Ranger.” Conrad got out of the car and looked at the gate. He tilted his head at the camera mounted above it before checking out the fence line stretching in both directions. “The camera angle is too narrow. You're losing coverage on the left side.”
“Conrad.” I gripped my mate’s arm. “We've been here thirty seconds. Maybe slow your roll a little.”
Ranger said he’d meet us inside and stomped toward the main building.
Conrad had tempered his words when he spoke to me, but it’d taken weeks of us bumping up against one another.
“You know people often respond better to criticism when you point out something positive first.”
I didn’t want to lecture him and maybe that was how it sounded but he’d been brought up in an environment where everything was black and white.
My mate side-eyed me and sighed. “Okay, I’ll try.”
The compound looked different from three weeks ago. Not physically because the buildings were the same and the layout unchanged. But people's eyes darted around as if expecting trouble.
There were guards at positions I didn't remember being manned before. Two wolf shifters I recognized were stationed at the main door, with more inside. I recalled the story Matt, Ranger’s mate, told of him and his brother arriving at the former headquarters where guards were only visible inside the entrance.
Despite being a criminal organization, the La Luna Noir newish compound had a family feel to it.
Grandpa had given up his food truck and supervised in the kitchen.
Mates and kids would drop in unannounced, but now, even with the fortified fence, there were no signs of human mates or any of the children.
They were here because Grandpa had told us they were living in one of the smaller buildings.
I witnessed what Conrad and me mating had cost the pack. The playground behind the east building was empty. There was a row of bikes against the wall covered in dust.
Through a second-floor window I caught movement. Two small faces pressed against the glass looking down at us. One was Lottie, Flint’s eldest. I waved and she waved back before a hand appeared on her arm and she vanished. The other might have been Storm, Ranger's son.
Those kids should have been outside playing before heading home, and instead, they were watching the world through glass because a dragon shifter had put them in danger.
My wolf growled at what Evander had done to this place and its occupants.
Conrad raised his head and studied Storm who grinned and held up a toy plane.
They’d never met but had probably been told I had a mate.
Conrad didn't say anything but his stride faltered. He knew how important my extended family was. Later I’d meet up with Treyton whose family had also been forced into the compound against his protests.
Inside the main building, pack members nodded at me, but their attention was on Conrad. We’d have to get used to the gawking. He was a dragon walking through their headquarters while he was checking out the security arrangements.
Flint met us in the lobby, and Ranger hovered nearby, always Alpha’s right-hand man. The lines around Flint’s eyes were more defined than when I’d last seen him. Sleepless nights and running on too much caffeine while worrying about his family and the pack would do that.
He clasped my shoulder, but there was no need for words. What would we say? “How are you?” or “This is bad.”
Alpha glanced at Conrad. “You wanted authority over our defenses, so let's talk about what that involves.” He pointed down the corridor. “Ranger, you're in this meeting.”
Ranger grunted and ignoring us, followed Alpha.
The meeting room was the same one we'd used before the bolthole. Flint sat at the head. Ranger took his usual spot against the far wall. Conrad stood because he’d explained that when he met with his Father, the person with authority in his previous life, he always stood.
It was only that last day when he was informed that the mating ceremony had been brought forward, his father told him to sit.
“Show me what you have,” Conrad said.
I expected Conrad to tear Ranger's work apart, but they spent thirty minutes going through the security layout, and I sat in the corner and watched because this wasn't my area of expertise and I knew when to stay out of the way. Conrad asked questions and Ranger answered.
I tensed, thinking about my mate’s response when we arrived earlier and how understandably prickly Ranger had been. But Conrad didn’t interrupt.
When Ranger explained the patrol routes, my mate nodded and said the ground-level defense was solid.
When he pointed out the gaps—and there were gaps, mostly to do with an aerial approach because wolves didn't think about threats from above—he framed each one as an addition to what was already working.
The tension released from Ranger's shoulders around the fifteen-minute mark. As the meeting progressed, he was leaning forward. And by the end, he was asking questions about dragon flight patterns and thermal signatures and how to detect an approach from the air.
My mate answered every one of them, and I watched a dragon earn a wolf's respect without raising his voice or pulling rank. Conrad was being exactly who he was, someone who understood the threat because he'd been the threat.
“Your pack and my father engaged in a cold war for decades. Evander won't. You need to prepare for attacks your compound was never designed to handle.”
When the meeting ended, Flint caught my eye across the table and gave me a look I couldn’t translate, but it might have been close to “He’ll do.”
Out in the corridor, Ranger caught up with Conrad. I was a few steps behind.
“The aerial sensors you mentioned. Can they cover the buildings where the kids are?”
Conrad's expression didn't change as he answered, “I’ll prioritize those.”
Ranger nodded and walked off. There was no pat on the arm or back slapping. Just a nod that was hopefully a small sign of respect.
My mate tucked his arm in mine. “Your cousin asked me to protect his children.”
“Mmmm.” I couldn’t tell Conrad how to feel about that. He had to come to the realization himself.
He paused and stood in front of me with his hands clasping my own. “I’m good at my job and I deserve praise for my skills, but this is more than that. It's about family, and it feels good.”
I threw my arms around him and whispered how much I loved him which earned us glances and sniggers from passing pack members.
We were given a room on the second floor of the main building. It was functional and had a window overlooking the inner courtyard. Someone had put fresh sheets on the bed and stocked the bathroom. On the nightstand there was a packet of cheese puffs with a handwritten note.
Welcome home. I know these are your favorite. Grandpa.
Conrad grabbed the packet and held it out of reach, saying I couldn’t stuff my face and not give him any.
“I’m taller, so you know I’m going to steal it back.”
He opened the packet and said he was going to dole out the snacks handful by handful.
Through the window, I could see the courtyard below and two guards walking the perimeter, and beyond the fence, the tree line where anything could be hiding.
This was our life now. Not the quiet apartment where we’d read secondhand books or the laundromat.
This was a compound on alert, preparing for a fight that was coming whether we were ready or not.
My mate sat beside me as we ate cheese puffs, and our shoulders touched.
“The kids in the window.” I told him it was Lottie and Storm. “They smiled and waved.”
“Is that a problem?” I wondered if this was some off dragon quirk that kids kept their heads bowed around their elders.
“In my father's compound, there were no children.”
“What?” It occurred to me that the dragons of the Solari had a fertility problem.
“Anyone who was mated with a family, the mates and kids were housed elsewhere. Father refused to have what he referred to as ‘bratty kids with sticky fingers’ in his life. He used to say it was bad enough when I was a child and living under his roof.”
“Did Evander never dip his fingers in jam or get glue on them?”
“Are you kidding? His nanny removed all stickiness before he left the nursery. Besides, my twin is almost allergic to mess.”
I took his hand and told him at La Luna Noir, kids were allowed to be loud, make mistakes, and even smear peanut butter on the walls. My mate made a face and checked the walls in the bedroom.
“You'll adapt to it just like you’re getting used to me.” I put my head on his shoulder.
“Who says I’m getting used to you?” He kissed my nose.