A coward, in other words.
An annoying background noise suddenly turned into a deafening roar as a helicopter came in overheard to land nearby, the wind from its rotors sending dust flying. Rhys braced himself against the wind and Maisie clung to his arm, yelling something that he couldn’t hear.
Eventually Brent appeared from under the pile of overpriced Hawaiian shirts, cuffed and bruised, and looking scared.
“I didn’t try to kill anyone,” he insisted over the sound of the slowing helicopter rotors. “I was just hired to do some intimidation.”
“Uh-huh,” said Flat-Top. “Well, you can tell that to our investigators.”
“Shit,” Brent whispered, his eyes wide, and Rhys almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Normally he wouldn’t care, but something felt very wrong about this situation – and his griffin was getting antsy, which added to the feeling. As much as he tended to roll his eyes at the griffin’s antics, its instincts were top-notch.
He approached Flat-Top.
“You sure you got the right guy?” he asked. “This guy’s a moron, but I’m not sure he’s the killer type. What did he do?”
Flat-Top looked surprised – or as surprised as it was probably possible for him to look, anyway. “He was with the group that attacked you a couple of days back. The ones with the deadly weapon.”
Rhys could tell that he was trying not to say things likewyvern bloodin front of the resort security, but that was really the least of his concerns. Because he really didn’t think that Brent was one of the guys who’d attacked him. He’d gotten a look at the ones who’d gotten up close, and Brent hadn’t been one of them.
Besides…
“I thought they all died?” he asked, trying to sound indifferent, rather than suspicious.
“Nah, this slippery little bastard ran away,” Flat-Top said, jerking his head in Brent’s direction. “Thanks for helping lead us to him. Now maybe we can get some answers about that whole mess.”
Brent’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “I didn’t try to kill you, I swear! Like I said – I just got hired to do an intimidation job! I’d never kill anyone! Yesterday I turned over a turtle that’d got stuck on its back!”
“Sure, sure, you’re an angel, I’m sure,” Flat-Top said, rolling his eyes.
This is just fucked,Rhys thought, scrubbing his hands over his face.I don’t know what to think.
He knew that Brent wasn’t agoodguy, turtle rescuer or not. But his gut – and his griffin – told him that he probably wasn’t a killer. And the whole vibe from these Agency guys was just weird… and he didn’t think it was just because they were from Queensland.
He was going to have to –
“RHYS!!!”
He spun around –
To see Maisie staring at him in terror, as two agents jerked her arms behind her back and slapped a pair of cuffs around her wrists.
The world took on a red tinge as fury coursed through Rhys’s veins, his inner voice and the griffin screaming out as one.
They dare to eventouchour mate!
He readied himself to shift, shifter secrecy be damned, the whole world be damned, when he felt Flat-Top’s meaty hand clamp down on his shoulder.
“Easy, champ,” he said into Rhys’s ear. “You don’t want to make a scene now, do you?”
Rhys growled, barely able to form coherent words. “Let. Go.”
Flat-Top’s grip tightened. “Nah, won’t be doing that. You see, she’s been screwing you over, and you haven’t even realized.” He laughed, and it was a nasty sound. “You see a pretty face, and you just spill all your secrets. It’s no wonder you screwed up bad enough to get suspended.”
Screwing me over? What the hell?!
He knew it wasn’t true, of course – but why the hell would the Agency think that Maisie was a threat?! She’d saved his life! She was a burned-out nurse who needed a holiday, not some master of espionage! What could she have even possibly done that would make the Agency think that she was involved?!
“You’re making a mistake,” Rhys growled. “Don’t make it worse.”
