“Not acting. Recording.” I do a sample of my voice and play it back for him, and then go through the steps of recording his agreement. The surly alpha watches closely, blue eyes tracking my movements.
First question. “Are you injured anywhere or in pain, Zack?”
“No,” he answers immediately.
“And you didn’t kill anyone?”
His upper lip curls. “Ri-ckon said no killing.”
I chuckle. “We should always listen to Rickon; he’s clever.”
Zack rests his cuffed hands on the table with a clink of metal. “Ri-ckon is magic.”
His childish explanation strikes me as strangely poignant, and I nod slowly. “Yes, you’re right. He is a magical person.” My heart throbs, a feeling I’ll have to explore later.
The feral alpha knocks his hands on the tabletop again for emphasis. “Tell. You decide I go home, Cal-ee?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t decide, but I am here to help.”
He growls under his breath.
I link my hands together and catch his gaze. “Can you tell me what happened at the courthouse? On the steps.”
“Challenge.”
“Who challenged you?”
He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Don’t know. Challenge on my skin.” He scratches at his fingers and checks his palms. “Washed off. You smell like challenge too.”
“You mean the oil?” I ask, dusting my hands on my trousers self-consciously.
His gaze flicks up to me. “Yes. Alpha challenge. And fight lights.”
I pick up my pen and drag the tip across one edge of my legal pad. “Lights?”
“In people group. Have fight lights.”
I mark down what he said, baffled. “What lights?”
“Lights flash, I go out to challenge.”
My hand jerks, leaving a pen scratch on the page. “You mean before you met Red, when you fought other alphas?”
He nods emphatically. “Yes. Fight challengers.”
“Okay, Zack. That was called a fight ring. Are you saying you saw the same flashing lights, so you thought it was a fight?”
His gaze narrows on me, and for a second I think I have it wrong, but he nods. “Yes.” He leans on the table. “You understand me, so not stupid. Guard stupid.” He angles his fists, imitating driving.
I cover a grin. Well, that’s one way to differentiate people.
Zack holds my gaze, blue eyes full of questions. “So why you stupid with ohm-ga?”
His accusation knifes into me, knocking the breath from my airways. It takes a minute to get myself under control and answer his troublesome question. “Sometimes people make mistakes, Zack. Like me trying to pressure Red—”
He snarls, body rearing back with disgust.
I swallow hard. “—and like you attacking innocent journalists because you smelled an alpha and saw lights. That was a mistake too.”
