“Colby’s not the only new arrival, then?”
A flicker of caution passed through Bryce’s eyes. “Riley’s not been with us long. And you undoubtedly know that Jesse only came to us a few months ago. Before that, he was on his own.”
Tom kept his face neutral. Jesse Turner’s background was still a foggy mystery, and the idea that he’d just walked into a pack after years alone was convenient. Too convenient. But Tom didn’t push. That was Councilor Steadman’s job.
And he still wasn’t convinced that Jesse Turner really was an Argent, though he had more sense than to mention that fact to Bryce.
“I’m guessing the councilors are going to want to know where he comes from,” he said, in what might just be the understatement of the century.
“Ya think?” Bryce’s lips curved into a smile.
“I’m not paid to do that,” Tom disclaimed. “I’m just the muscle.”
That got him a slow once-over, Bryce’s gaze trailing shamelessly down his body and back up again. “You sure are,” he said, deadpan, then grinned like he knew exactly how corny he sounded and didn’t care.
Somehow, and Tom had no idea how, it worked for him. The mix of boldness and warmth and the lack of hidden barbs counterbalanced the cheese.
“I also think you’re selling yourself short, for what it’s worth,” he added, quieter this time.
Tom looked away, uncomfortable at the sincerity. That had been a little too close to something real. It reminded him of things Zack used to say—back when things were good. Before it all went wrong.
He cleared his throat. “So, this other meeting room…”
Bryce didn’t push, just nodded and led the way.
The hallway walls were lined with mismatched photos. It felt like a house peoplelivedin rather than one that was staged for effect. Tom noted the layout, the doorframes, the poor sightlines. The space made sense for a pack. For security? It was a nightmare.
The living room was less exposed than the kitchen, but tighter. Fewer exits and more corners. Tom would mark it as a soft target on any recon sheet. But Jax, the head of the Council security detail, would make his own call, and it would probably be the opposite of whatever Tom recommended. He’d never gotten over Tom being seconded to Steadman’s personal detail. That was one of Jax’s few weaknesses—too much ego.
Tom let his gaze drift, searching not only for threats but for clues. The books on the shelves weren’t arranged by size or author, just jammed in however they fit. Dog-eared thrillers, battered recipe books, the occasional poetry collection. A stack of DVDs sat beside the TV,Barbierubbing shoulders withJohn Wick.
His gaze landed on a dark patch on the floorboards. It looked like a bloodstain.
“Someone spill their coffee?” he asked, tone mild.
Bryce followed his line of sight and didn’t bother to lie. “Not exactly.”
Tom waited, but no further explanation was offered. Just that easy, infuriating calm that Bryce had displayed in the face of every one of Tom’s questions. He added it to his mental inventory.
Bryce glanced at him sidelong. “You know, not to knock your job, but this all feels a bit much.”
“You’ve got the most powerful shifters in the country coming to a rural pack with no security infrastructure,” Tom said. “If someone wanted to make a point, this would be the place. It makes me wonder why they didn’t invite Jesse to Washington instead, where there’d be a controlled environment.” He knew damn well that they had, but was hoping for a clue as to why the invitation had been turned down.
“Oh, they asked.” Bryce’s mouth curved. “Jesse said—and I quote—I ain’t no goddamn freak show to be paraded around and stared at.”
Tom almost smiled, the thought of someonenotsucking up to the Council novel enough to amuse him. He also wondered, for the first time, just who this Argent was as a man, aperson, rather than an improbable discovery.
“Matt backed Jesse,” Bryce continued. “Said if the Council wanted to meet Jesse, they could do it here, on his terms.”
“You agree with that?”
“Hell, yes.” Bryce’s eyes sharpened. “This might be a big deal for shifters, but it’s Jesse’slife. He doesn’t owe anyone anything just because of his bloodline.”
That caught Tom off guard. Not the opinion so much as the conviction behind it. There was no angle or spin. Justtruth. It was the kind of thing Tom hadn’t heard in a long time.
He wrenched his mind back to work. “I hate to be intrusive—more than I’ve already been,” he added, as Bryce lifted an eyebrow quizzically. “But I need to inspect every room in the house, checking ingress and egress points.”
Bryce considered it for a long moment. Long enough that Tom wondered if he was going to refuse. He hoped Bryce didn’t. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t why Steadman had sent him onahead, but he was supposed to be getting to know this pack, and this was as good an excuse as any to spend more time here.
