Bonus Scene
LYNX
Icast a suspicious glare around the meeting, making sure all my cubs are accounted for.
With the Cutty already full, it takes some time to pick them out from the crowds and it’s not until I locate each and every one of them that I’m able to turn my attention to the intruder.
He’s got water-logged blond curls, big blue eyes, and I can’t work out if he’s wearing a T-shirt or a dress.
At any rate, he’s not what I thought I was hunting.
The prey finally finds its voice. “H-he tried to kill me.”
Wilde’s gaze snaps back to me. “Is that true?”
“He’s still alive, isn’t he?”
Bob interfering was not part of the plan, but I get the sense the ridiculous animal took pity on our prey as much as I did.
He looks like the runt of the litter, rail thin and without an ounce of muscle to protect himself.
If Ziggy had left him trapped behind the wall he would have been an easy meal for the rats.
“Wait …” Nox says, glancing around. “This is who we were looking for?”
He has a point. I’d been picturing some dangerous, enormous man on the loose, and this guy …
“My name is Sasha,” the prey snaps.
Wilde turns back to him. “Why are you in Wilde’s End?”
Sasha’s gaze goes from Wilde to me and back. “I crashed my car.”
“Wait, it was your car we found?” Booker asks, running his eyes over the prey. “We assumed the person driving had hitchhiked into town.”
“How long ago was that?” I demand.
“Almost two weeks.”
This guy’s been living in town undetected for that long?
Wilde doesn’t look happy either. “Where did you find him?”
I assume the question is for me. “Ziggy’s place. He was hiding behind the wall we put up.”
Wilde’s eyebrows creep higher. “Fuck me.”
“You trapped me there,” Sasha says, sounding panicked.
He has no need for that emotion. “What are we going to do with him? He’s stolen from us. That’s against the rules.”
“Technically that’s not a rule,” Wilde mutters.
“The alternative was that he starved,” bleeding-heart Nox points out.
I shrug. “If he won’t contribute, then yes.”
“That’s ridiculous. And never going to happen.”
Wilde takes over. “The way we do things works for us. It keeps everything fair and makes sure we can provide for our town.” He turns on Sasha. “If you want something, you work for it. You don’t just take what you want. If you’d come to us for help, we would have told you that.”
And even with the anger in Wilde’s tone, Sasha scoffs. “You wanted me to confront the terrifying forest dwellers? I heard what you were saying when you trapped me in that mine. You wanted me dead.”
“We wanted you gone.”
Sasha jabs a finger at me. “He wanted me dead.”
“He wants everyone dead, you’re not special.”
Common misconception. I don’t want anyone dead. I want them away from me, with the means to defend themselves while they mind their own business.
“He was scared, we can all understand that,” Nox pushes. “What’s done is done, so how do we fix this?”
“He needs to get out of town.” For once, I agree with Wilde. “Can you do that?”
“Not without my car. But I crashed it and couldn’t get it to start.”
“Little blue thing?” Wilde grunts. “With creepy animals in the back?”
“Creepy? They’re cute plushies.”
Ignoring Sasha, I turn to Wilde. “That sounds like a yes. Where’s the car?”
“Towed it to Rooney’s place.”
“If it was towed, then I assume it’s not working?”
He doesn’t answer, but the twisted look he takes on makes it clear what the answer is. Without a working car, Sasha can’t leave.
“I’ll drop you in Wayward,” Wilde finally says.
A scowl crosses Sasha’s face. “I left there. I’m never going back.”
“You’d prefer to hide out here and steal?” Nox asks.
“No, I’d prefer to have not drove off the fucking road so that I’d be literally anywhere other than a stupid small town by now.”
The runt has teeth. Interesting.
“Well, you don’t have that option, so Wayward it is.” Wilde clenches his jaw. “You and your car can go back and try again later.”
“I said I’m not doing that.”
“And I’m not giving you a choice.”
My eyes narrow, taking in the tension that pulls at his lanky frame. The way his jaw tightens even though he looks like he wants to cry.
Nox shuffles forward. “It doesn’t sound like Wayward is an option. We need to come up with something else.”
“There is nothing else.”
“There’s always something else.”
Wilde turns his anger on Nox. “Oh, yeah? Like let him continue to steal and ruin our town?”
Before I can answer, Sasha makes a derisive sound. “Ruin? You’ve done enough of that on your own.”
Me and Wilde turn identical glares on him.
“Now’s the time to keep those thoughts to yourself,” I warn him.
Nox cuts me off. “Can the car be fixed?”
“Probably.”
“Okay. So why can’t Sasha stay until it’s done?”
“We don’t have a mechanic here.” Wilde’s talking through his teeth, like admitting to a weakness in this town is painful. “It would take some time.”
“I have one in Dale,” Foley pipes up, but the casually helpful tone rings out like a warning to my ears. Apparently I’m not the only one.
“Oh really?” Wilde’s eyes narrow. “And what limb would you want for that?”
Foley chuckles and holds up his broken arm. “Rich, coming from you. But no, no limb.” Then he turns to Booker. “But I’m sure we could find a use for a doctor.”
“How quickly I go from a prized possession to a bargaining chip,” Booker sighs, wide grin across his face.
Wilde looks like he’s chewing on his tongue. “I won’t force you to do anything.”
“Just some gentle coercion then?” But despite his words, Booker sounds delighted. “I suppose this whole plan rests on my shoulders.”
There’s a beat of silence while I wait for him to decide, but he goes on smiling at us all.
“So will you do it?” Nox prompts.
“Who can say?”
“You. You can say.”
“Oh, I’m sure I could. These types of business transactions require deep thinking though, and I really need the time to consider things from all angles.”
The look on Foley’s face makes me think he expected that exact reply. “Take all the time you need.” He stalks closer and leans down by Booker’s ear. “I told you I’d wait forever if you made me.”
I watch Booker’s face and swear I detect the briefest flare of his nostrils.
Fear, anger, or arousal? One of those things will call for me to step in, and I hope that it’s either of the others because the only way I could take Foley down is by surprise.
And he’s not a man who’d be caught that easily.
Foley leaves without a backward glance, and I wonder how close he would let Booker get before he started dissecting his brain.
Booker goes on looking like nothing just happened.
Meanwhile, Nox scowls. “Fine. So until we find a mechanic, what do we do with Sasha?”
“Don’t say Wayward,” the prey warns and there’s that spark again.
Wilde’s teeth crunch together.
“The solution seems simple to me.” Hudson, the city dweller, is using his I’m the smartest person in the room tone from where he’s sitting behind Wilde.
Always with his rabid animal between him and me.
“Sasha took food, your rules here are that you work for what you take. So give him somewhere to live, he can work off whatever he stole plus the mechanic costs, and then once the car is fixed, he can fuck off to wherever he was going.”
Wilde spreads his hands. “It’s either that, or going back to Wayward. Your call.”
“Is there a third option?”
“No.”
Some of the fight leaves Sasha as he chews the inside of his cheek. “Will I be …” His gaze flicks toward me. “Safe?”
I stare the prey down, waiting for a flinch, a startle, a chink in his confidence. I grudgingly enjoy the way he holds my eyes. “As long as you don’t steal so much as a crumb, or hurt anyone in this town, then yes.” Of course I don’t stop there. “But I’ll be watching you.”
“Would it kill you to go one conversation without being creepy?” Nox muses.
“It actually might.”
I settle back against a table, Bob at my side, and watch them work out the details.
“That’s decided then?” Nox glances between Wilde and Sasha, waiting to see who’ll break first. Considering Wilde is a controlling dick, I expect him to argue the point, or agree to it first, but the prey beats him to it and holds out his hand.
Wilde stares at it for a moment, but doesn’t shake it. “You can stay on Hobby Straight. The houses are small but have everything you need. Since you stole food, you can start there. We’ve got crops that need tending to.”
“Manual labor?”
“Got a problem?”
The prey quickly shakes his head but before Wilde can storm off, Sasha sets a hand on his forearm. “Thank you for not making me go back there.”
Wilde grunts and leaves, then Viv takes his place. She wraps an arm around Sasha’s shoulders and steers him toward the bar area.
But I’m still stuck on those words.
Thank you for not making me go back there.
Spoken like the relief that comes after fear. What does this prickly little prey have to be fearful of though? I lick my lips slowly as I consider all the horrible things he might have faced before being buried alive, and the fact that whatever it was … he’s still standing.
He’s here.
Facing down Wilde.
And me.
And soon, he’ll be helping me tend crops. Interesting.
I let out a sharp whistle, signaling to my cubs that I’m on the move. Then Bob follows me out the door, his soft fur under my fingertips pulling the dark memories away.