“After all,” Luna had told him when he’d been arguing to bring extra guards with them, “they’re going to have the place sewn up tight against intruders.”
“Yeah, but they’rewolves,” he’d pointed out. “They’re not exactly going to meet our standards.”
“Your standards, you mean,” Luna said with a faint smile. “Okay, Leon—do what you think is necessary. You know what you’re doing, so I’m not going to ignore your advice. Just make sure everyone knows this is adiplomaticmission, not a pissing contest between cats and wolves.”
After a dark-haired wolf brought in glasses of tea on a tray, and then left again, Urban sat down, his gaze on Luna.
“Thank you for accepting my invitation,” he said. He sounded like a man trying to be sincere but impatient with both niceties and strangers. “We were wondering how to let the cats know what had happened.”
He paused for an instant, and Leon could see the moment when he decided to forget diplomacy and politics and get straight to it.
“Honestly, I didn’t know if you’d be interested in what a bunch of wolves have been up to, but it could change things for all shifters, so I figured I should reach out.” His lip curled as he registered his phrasing. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve been spending too long with politicians lately. I’m starting to talk like them.”
To Leon’s surprise, Luna laughed. She obviously liked what she’d seen of Urban. Much as he didn’t want to admit it, Leon wasn’t hating him either. He might be a wolf, but he couldn’t help that.
Luna similarly abandoned politicking and went straight to the heart of the matter. The thing that none of them could understand.
“Why did you think it a good idea to go public over finding an Argent?” Her eyes flicked to Jesse, curled up in an armchair, hems of his jeans frayed, looking nothing like a legend.
Her voice vibrated with either fear or temper as she continued. “If non-shifters think we’re trying to set up some sort of mystical leader for all shifters to unite behind, they might think we’re trying to take over.”
She didn’t expand on what that could mean for shifters. She didn’t need to. And that, in a nutshell, was why the cats were so damn pissed at the wolves. Well, that wasthisweek’s reason.
“Yeah,” Urban said ruefully. “Look, we weren’t going to tell anyone. It’s no one’s business but Jesse’s what color his coat is.”
Leon didn’t know if Urban was aware of the way his green eyes softened slightly when he spoke of his scruffy mate.
“Thing is, word got out, and then politicians got involved because some shifters”—he paused and changed his wording—“somewolf-shifters are ridiculously traditional or superstitious, whatever you want to call it.” He slowly massaged his temples as if he had a permanent headache.
“And that meant that if someone could produce Jesse and claim his support for their agenda, they’d be a shoo-in to lead the National Council. I figured that if it were known that Jesse existed and had no interest in endorsing any cause or politician, then once everyone got over their shock, people would lose interest.”
Most of Leon’s attention was on the yard outside, searching for threats, but he was listening intently. Couldn’t hear any trace of a lie in Urban’s account.
“It’s not something any of us wanted,” Urban said. “But it was the only way to keep Jesse safe from those who’d have snatched him to use in their power plays.”
Oh, and there it was—that tendril of threat winding through Urban’s voice, the thing that Leon had sensed when he’d first laid eyes on him. God help anyone who tried to snatch his mate.
“That’s why you did all those interviews with the media?” Luna asked. “To let people hear from Jesse directly?”
Urban’s jaw clenched, as if at a very unpleasant memory, but then he relaxed slightly. “Hell, at least they paid us,” he said. “Means we’ve been able to install more security in case anyone comes snooping.”
Which probably explained how Reynolds knew they were on their way. Leon’s eyes narrowed as he exchanged a glance with Joaquim. He could see they were thinking the same thing—how they’d love to get a look at whatever tech Urban was using. Joaquim because he was a tech nerd, Leon because he liked knowing stuff. Especially when it was stuff that had been used to spy on them.
He turned his gaze out the window once more and waited to hear just why Urban had issued an invitation when everything he’d said so far could’ve been a text. But wolves never did texts when they could do eye contact and talking.
Chapter Two
KARL
Karl prowled between the trees, tail flicking, too restless to stay in one place for long. The cats were inside the house. He couldn’t see them, which only made their presence more unsettling.
He could smell them, though. That sleek, sweet scent that didn’t belong here. That didn’t belonganywherenear his pack. It seeped from the cars they’d arrived in and drifted out from the house when Jason opened the back door. It was wrong.
Now, they were in Matt’s living room, and he didn’t need to hear them to know what was being said—politics, strategy, calculated and hollow reassurances, all meant to disguise that they had no interest in the human cost of anything but only in outcomes. And Karl was out here, unable to do anything except circle them like a fucking wolf-shaped satellite.
He’d done three perimeter sweeps since dawn, checked in with Christian and Colby, run a quick diagnostic on the surveillancesystem, and updated the site map. And now that the cats were on the ranch, it was impossible to relax. Not with strangers roaming his territory. Not even ones that had allegedly come in peace.
If the leader of the cat-shifters got herself assassinated on wolf territory, it wouldn’t just be a diplomatic disaster. It would be war. And Karl would have failed—again.
