Grayson watched Colton lead Ryan toward the kitchen then turned to Reese and Malik. He kept his voice low. “We need to talk. Now.”
Reese jerked his head toward the back door. The three of them moved outside onto the deck, leaving Ryan in the kitchen with Colton. Grayson could still hear him through the open window, his voice carrying in the quiet evening air as he made some comment about cold pizza being better than warm pizza.
“Hyenas?” Reese asked once they were alone.
“Yeah.” Grayson leaned against the railing, facing the house so he could keep Ryan in his peripheral vision through the kitchen window. “Same pack we raided. They sent him a text threatening to hurt him if he doesn’t return the dogs.”
“Which he can’t do.” Malik moved to stand beside him. “Those dogs are evidence. And they’re too damaged to go back into fighting.”
“They don't care about that.” Grayson’s hands curled into fists against the railing. “They want their property back, and they’ll go through anyone to get it. Including a human vet tech who was just trying to help.”
“Does he know?” Reese's question was quiet but pointed. “About us?”
“No.” Grayson kept his eyes on the kitchen window. Ryan was leaning against the counter, eating pizza, and Colton said something that made him laugh. The sound carried across the yard, easing some of the tension in Grayson’s shoulders. “He doesn’t know about shifters at all. And it needs to stay that way.”
“That’s going to be difficult if we’re protecting him.” Malik crossed his arms. “Hyenas won't play nice. They’ll come at him hard and fast, and we'll have to respond. He's going to see things.”
“Then we make sure he doesn’t.” Grayson turned to face them both. “We handle this quietly. No shifting where he can see. No displays of strength that can’t be explained. We’re just roommates who happen to be good at security.”
“And when the hyenas show up?” Reese asked. “Because they will. They’re not going to let this go.”
Chapter Five
“We handle them before they get that close.” Grayson’s voice came out harder than he meant it to. The lion was too close to the surface, responding to the threat against Ryan with a fury that demanded violence. “I want surveillance on the clinic starting tonight. Rotating shifts. If any hyena comes within a hundred yards of that building, I want to know about it.”
“Done.” Reese pulled out his phone. “I’ll coordinate with the others. We've got enough people to maintain a perimeter.”
“What about his apartment?” Malik asked. “They have his number. They might have his address too.”
“I’ll have someone watching it.” Grayson turned back to the window. Ryan had finished his pizza and was washing his hands at the sink, his movements small and precise. Everything about him seemed designed to take up less space, to make himself less noticeable. It made Grayson want to wrap himself around Ryan until the rest of the world disappeared. “But he's not going back there. Not until this is over.”
“How long are you planning to keep him here?” Reese's tone suggested he already knew the answer.
“As long as it takes.”
Malik and Reese exchanged a glance. Grayson caught it but didn’t acknowledge it. They'd figured out what Ryan was to him. The way Grayson had been ready to tear through anything to get to him after that text, the protective fury that hadn’t dimmed even slightly since arriving at the apartment. His men knew. They understood what it meant when a shifter found his mate.
“We should get back inside,” Grayson said. “He's probably wondering what we’re talking about out here.”
They filed back through the door. Ryan was sitting at the kitchen table now, his phone in his hands. He looked up when they entered, something vulnerable in his expression that he tried to hide with a smile.
“Everything okay?” Ryan asked. His fingers tightened around his phone. “You guys looked pretty serious out there.”
“Just coordinating security for the clinic.” Grayson moved to stand near the table. The urge to touch Ryan, to reassure himself that his mate was safe and whole, pulled at him. He resisted. “We'll have people watching it tonight. If anyone tries anything, they won't get far.”
“That’s good. Great. Really great.” Ryan set his phone down and ran both hands through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “I should probably call Dr. Sullivan. Let him know what’s happening. He needs to be careful too.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Grayson pulled out his own phone. “What’s his number?”
Ryan rattled it off. Grayson typed it in and stepped into the living room to make the call. Dr. Sullivan answered on the second ring, his voice thick with sleep. Grayson kept his explanation brief and vague. Threats related to the rescue dogs. Extra security being arranged. The veterinarian asked a few questions that Grayson deflected, said his “boyfriend,” Bayne, would help out with security, then agreed to be cautious and to inform his staff.
When Grayson returned to the kitchen, Ryan was talking to Colton about the dogs' recovery. His voice had steadied somewhat, falling into the comfortable rhythm of discussing work. Colton listened with apparent interest, asking questions about treatment protocols that Ryan answered with growing animation.
“The pit bull is going to need a home with experienced handlers,” Ryan was saying. “Someone who understands her history and won't expect her to be perfect right away. Same with the others. They’re going to have triggers we don't even know about yet.”
“Sounds like you care about what happens to them after they leave the clinic.” Colton leaned back in his chair, studying Ryan with dark eyes that saw too much.
“Well, yeah.” Ryan’s hands moved as he talked, gesturing in small arcs. “I mean, what’s the point of saving them if they just end up in another bad situation? They deserve better than that.”
