I study Marcus as he takes a sip of his drink. I hadn’t paid him much attention before—my mistake, because the signs of fighting are way more obvious on him than they are on Grey. There’s a trace of blood in his hairline, the beginnings of a bruise on his cheek, and his hands are in the same state as Grey’s, maybe a little worse.
I’m not subtle, and Marcus doesn’t miss me checking him out.
“I take it Tanner filled you in while I was handily busy at the bar?” He glares at Grey, but there’s no heat in it. No, if I’m reading him right, it’s more resignation mixed with fear and worry.
“Don’t know what you mean,” I hedge, on the off chance I’m wrong.
Marcus rolls his eyes.
“I told them about Fox,” Grey says, surprising me.
“Fucking nutter,” Marcus grunts, and I think he means Grey until he adds, “The sooner he fucks off to wherever he came from, the better.”
And that’s just it. Where did he come from?
I don’t know how hunters work, apart from that they’re now governed by a council that’s supposed to ensure every fucker adheres to the rules they put in place to stop the slaughter of innocent shifters. “Why’s he here?”
Marcus studies his pint, and yeah, I’m getting nothing more out of him.
“We don’t know,” Grey says eventually.
Jet scoffs, getting his point across without speaking.
“It’s the truth.” Grey looks at him, but Jet has his gaze fixed on his hands.
He won’t look up, even though I know he can feel Grey’s stare.
Grey sighs, and I get the feeling our meeting’s coming to an end. “I don’t know why they’re here, but they’re holed up in that fucking house showing no signs of leaving anytime soon. We’re just giving you a heads-up.”
That fucking house.
The more they talk, the more convinced I am that they don’t know whose house it is. Or how Fox got it. Thank fuck.
“Why?” Jet finally looks up, and whatever Grey sees in his eyes has him temporarily lost for words. “Why bother telling us anything?”
“Call it professional courtesy,” Marcus answers instead. “We’ve done what we were sent here to do.”
“Checking up on us?” Jet sneers.
Marcus shrugs. “You and the Feral Beasts.” His gaze darts to Grey, then away again, and I wonder what the fuck that’s about.Wouldn’t surprise me if the FBs had been caught breaking the rules. Fuck knows it wouldn’t be the first time.
“Does that mean you’re leaving now?” Jet snaps, shoulders tensing like he’s waiting on the answer.
Grey sighs, and a confusing mix of scents carries over the table as the breeze picks up. “Yeah. We’re leaving in the morning.” He spares one last look Jet’s way, but Jet is back to watching his hands again, then Grey stands and Marcus follows. “We’ll see you in a few months.” He taps the table. “Take care, Lynx. Jet.”
We watch in silence as they head back inside.
Only when the door closes behind them do I blow out a breath. “Well, that didn’t fucking go how I expected.”
Jet hums, then takes a long pull of his beer. “You believe them?”
“Don’t you?” I raise my eyebrows in question, because at no point did they smell like they were lying, and Jet would’ve been all over that.
“I guess.” He drains the last of his drink and pushes the glass away. “Wish they were lying.”
“Yeah, me fucking too.”
It’slate in the afternoon by the time we roll back into the compound.
