His lips quirk, eyes darkening as he inhales, slowly. “You sure?”
“Yep.” I deliberately take a huge step back and sweep a hand down the front of me. “Stitches don’t pull anymore.”
“That’s because Corey took them out while you were unconscious.”
“Oh.” No wonder they don’t fucking pull. That was quick. I make a mental note to have a look when I next get a bit of privacy. “Well, nothing hurts.”
“Good.”
Is it? The tense set to his jaw would imply otherwise. Fuck him. “Can I talk about Nico now?”
His only response is a short sharp shake of his head, but before I can moan about it, he’s off walking again. “Come on.”
“Where to now?”
Instead of taking me back the way we came, Lynx leads me round to the front of the house. It’s a lovely day, the heat of the afternoon starting to tail off, so it’s not surprising to find people outside.
Jet’s sat on the picnic table, elbows resting on his knees, with Mal and Flint on the bench seats either side. Beer bottles litter the table, and Jet’s smoking something that smells suspiciously like weed, but sweeter.
And none of them are wearing T-shirts.
It’s unfair on the rest of us to have the three of them sat together, looking likethat. Objectively I should be scared—becauseshifters—but in my defence, there’s a lot of tattooed skin and muscle on show.
They all turn our way as we approach, and that’s when I see it.
Five scars run across the centre of Jet’s chest. They’re a little jagged at the edges and spaced out like... likeclaw marks. He makes no effort to hide them, but when I glance up, he’s watching me with raised eyebrows. Taunting me to ask or say something, but I’m not a fucking idiot.
Well, not all the time anyway.
I quickly avert my eyes.
Lynx strides past them with a nod of acknowledgement. “We’re going inside to talk.” None of them react, because of course they already know why. I wonder what they all said about me in the meeting when they had to decide my fate. Who voted to let me live? Who wanted to get rid of the problem I represent?
Part of me wants to know, but the rest of me wants to pretend that it never happened. That they’re not watching us walk away,wondering what Lynx will decide to do if I’m not convincing enough.
It’s cool inside the house.
And massive.
Curiosity overtakes my nerves, as I look around. “This used to be a hotel, right?”
“Yes.”
It’s like a country house from a period drama. Except it’s way too modern inside. I follow him down the long hallway, and I’m struck by how quiet it is. “How many people live here?”
“Why?”
I roll my eyes. “I was just curious.”
“A few.”
That’s probably the only answer I’m going to get, so I let it go.
“And they all stay in the house?”
“For now.” He stops abruptly, and I almost run into him as he turns round. “There’s room, and it’s safer for us to stay together.”
I guess that makes sense.
