Okay, deep breath to calm myself. It’s fine. I can just stroll into the bar like a regular customer. I can keep enough cloaking on to appear human. Some hunters have learned how to spot shifters, but I’m pretty sure I can evade detection if I try. I’ve never tried it before, but it has to be worth the risk. There is nothing else I can do. I’m all out of choices.
Taking a deep breath, I hurry off the roof and across the street. Then I compose myself and stroll in the bar calmly. Luckily, with my beard, tattoos and army surplus clothes, I don’t look out of place at all. Shit. I look like I belong in a dive bar. Great. Maybe I need to change my look. Though Fitz seems to like me just the way I am. And that’s the only thing that matters.
I see him as soon as I enter, and my heart does a little trill. It is the closest I’ve been to him in three long days. It’s entirely too long, I never want to be apart from him again. My wolf wants to run up to him and pull him into an embrace. My arms ache to hold him, but I resist.
He is standing in the back far corner by a table. The three men I watched enter are standing in a semicircle in front of him. I’m fairly certain Fitz stood up at their approach and now the hunters and him are regarding each other uneasily.
I order a whiskey, while still watching everything out of the corner of my eye. I don’t think Fitz has seen me, which is great. I don’t want to distract him. I’m here to help, not ruin everything.
“Where is your collar, boy?”
The hunters think everyone is too far away to hear anything, but thanks to my shifter hearing, I catch every word perfectly. Each word feels like a punch to the gut. Fuck these bastards. How dare they talk to Fitz like that?
Fitz’s hand reflexively goes to his scarred neck. “The monsters took it off of me,” he says calmly.
“Gordon and his crew all dead?”
Fitz nods and does a good job of looking sad. At least, I hope he is acting. They were cruel assholes. But they were also the people who raised him. I can’t bring myself to think of them as his family, not after everything they did to him. But, my own feelings aside, Fitz might actually be mourning them. Emotions are tricky things. I swig my whiskey to wash away the taste of guilt.
“How come they didn’t kill you?”
Fitz blushes and drops his gaze to the floor. “They wanted me for sex.”
My chest is so tight I can’t breathe. It’s a good thing to say, I know it is. A plausible reason, but oh my, does it strike uncomfortably close to the truth. Fitz wouldn’t be insane if he did see it that way.
The hunters snicker darkly, and I have to bite back my growl.
“How did you escape?”
“They got careless, thought I wanted to be with them.” Fitz shrugs.
A tiny niggling doubt starts to eat at me. What if Fitz is telling the truth? What if his agreement to the Grand Master’s plan was just so he could get back to hunters? I shiver. I’m being ridiculous. If that was true, he’d be telling them about the enforcers that are supposed to be trailing him. The ones that I still can’t see or sense anywhere. Where the fuck are they? Why aren’t they jumping on these assholes? Wasn’t that the whole plan?
“Why should we take you on, boy?”
Fitz’s green eyes gleam. “Because I’m good at being bait.”
I want to chuckle with pride but smirking over my drink is going to have to do. Cheeky little shit. I love it.
“We’ll have to collar you again.”
“Fine,” says Fitz with a shrug.
The hunters all look at each other and reach some sort of wordless agreement.
“Let’s take a seat and have a drink.”
The big men all move to the table by Fitz.
“You can sit on the floor, where you belong.” The snicker that follows the words enrages my wolf. If I grip my glass any tighter, it’s going to shatter.
The hunters take their seats. Fitz stares at them for a moment, then gracefully lowers himself to the filthy floor. I’m only watching out of the corner of my eye, but the image burns into me. It’s going to haunt me forever.
Where the fuck are the enforcers? This has gone on long enough. Are they hoping Fitz will be taken back to their base? Or to meet up with a larger group? Nobody ever told me the full plan, but as far as I am concerned, catching these three scumbags is good enough. Why put Fitz at any more risk?
The sound of a fly unzipping echoes in my ears and makes my blood run cold. Surely not? I have to be hearing things. My mouth has gone so dry that I can’t move my tongue.
“Gordon always was so puritanical. But hey, if those monsters taught you what you are good for, might as well make use of it. And since you’re down there already.”
