Now? He looked like a middle-aged businessman with money, dressed casually stylish, and not even Ken would have guessed he’d just spent two-plus decades living in the wild.
It reminded him of when they found Duncan.
“Trevor took him shopping and got him a haircut,” Peyton said. “He needed everything.”
“How long, exactly, was I asleep?” Ken asked.
Trevor glanced at his watch. “Nearly fourteen hours. Peyton didn’t wish to disturb you.”
“And Dewi’s texting me every half hour asking if you’re awake yet,” Peyton joked. Then his smile faded. “Full disclosure, she asked me to delete the angry texts and voicemails she left on your work phone. I didn’t purge the deleted list, in case you want them, but I did delete them.”
“Thanks, and no, I don’t want to see them.” Ken, still not fully processing everything, stared at the large carafe of coffee and the related fixings that appeared almost magically in front of him. “Thank you,” he said to Elizabeth before looking at Peyton again. “Can I have the whole story now?” He added creamer and sugar and wrapped his hands around the mug. “And why aren’t we telling anyone you’re safe?”
He knew he should call Dewi, but he wanted caffeine first.
“I haven’t even turned my cell phones on yet,” Peyton said, returning Ken’s. “And there’s yours, by the way. Thank you. I want everyone to assume I’m still missing. Here’s what happened, and what I—we, know, or strongly suspect.”
“Uh, shouldn’t you tell Gillian? I know she’s sick with worry.”
He smirked. “She already knows. After you went to bed and I talked to Dewi again, I talked to Badger, Gillian, Duncan, and Trent. Gillian’s Primed not to tell anyone else. I had Badger Prime her before I even talked to her, so she didn’t scream and alert the whole damned state. I don’t even want Asia knowing.”
“Why not?”
“Not until we know more. We don’t need one of Trent’s kids accidentally letting something slip, and I’d rather not have them Primed if it’s not necessary. Asia will understand why once we tell her. It’ll play better if she’s still genuinely upset. And yes, I did ask Trent if he was okay with that decision, and he agreed with me to wait to tell her.”
Ken’s guts tightened with every point Peyton spun, which connected more of the tangled web.
The fact that there was a lab out there—and very likely a shifter traitor feeding victims into it—made him wish he had his own secure underground bunker where he could safely lock himself, Dewi, and the baby away for the next twenty or thirty years.
Ken was midway through his third cup of coffee—and a delicious breakfast of eggs and blueberry scones—when Peyton finished laying out what they knew, including his suspicions about Ray Dorland in Australia, and the newest tip phoned in to the Italian pack.
“Aaaand I suspect you’ll bring Aisling into this?” Ken asked.
“Yeah.” He cocked his head. “Why?”
Ken belatedly realized he’d almost said too much and, with Trevor and Elizabeth sitting right the fuck there, it probably wasn’t a great idea to mention Aisling had pinged on Tamsin as her mate.
“Her training,” Ken finally said, and from the way Peyton’s eyebrow lifted, Ken realized his brother-in-law had picked up on his near-stumble. “Sorry. I’m really not awake yet.”
Peyton nodded, but Ken suspected there would be a conversation later, in private, about that situation.
“So why did you insist on me driving myself from the airport?” Ken asked.
Peyton smirked, but it was Trevor who answered. “At the time, Peyton didn’t know who he could trust. He wanted to make sure someone didn’t intercept you. Another Endquist situation.”
“Exactly,” Peyton said. “Better safe than sorry. Wasn’t sure who we could trust besides Trevor and his inner circle.”
Ken eyed Trevor, and Peyton accurately interpreted his thoughts. “No worries, Ken,” Peyton said. “Trevor and his people are trustworthy.”
Ken slumped back in his chair as he sipped his coffee. “Do we ever catch a dang break? I feel like we’re jumping from one frying pan into another, and no matter how fast we dance, we’re getting scorched worse each time.”
“Until we tie all the threads together and eliminate their sources, no,” Peyton said. “If we don’t deal with this now, if we slink into the shadows with our tails between our legs and our wagons circled, it solves nothing. Makes the problem worse because it increases our risk of exposure.”
“And makes them think they can keep coming at us and we won’t openly respond with force,” Trevor grimly said.
“This will get bloodier than it already has, won’t it?” Ken asked.
“Most assuredly,” Trevor replied. “It’s already too damned bloody for my tastes. Peyton’s absolutely correct—we need to excise this cancer, now, before we’re all exposed. Or captured and vivisected.”
