Page 20

He walked over to the table and sat down. His stomach growled when he caught the aroma of his dinner. He unfolded the flimsy spork they gave him from the paper napkin and began eating. He was about a third of the way through his meal before Chawni spoke.

“Are you ready to cooperate?” she asked.

He glanced up from his meal, shrugged, and looked back down. It was the same question she had asked since he had awoken in this hellhole. He had no idea where he was or who his captors were, only that the Commander had asked him the same questions over and over. Some questions he could answer and refused to do so. As for the others, he had no clue what in the hell they were talking about, so he had no answers.

“Will you release me if I do?” he asked.

“No.”

He lowered his utensil and stared at her. She spoke the truth. He could hear it in her voice. A shiver of apprehension ran through him. He looked around the ten-by-ten-foot cell before he stared back at her.

“You might as well kill me now if you think you can keep me in this cage,” he snarled, partially rising from his seat.

She lifted her hand when a guard started to step into the cell. The guard shot him a warning glare but stepped back. He started when she laid her hand over the back of his.

“Lucien, who sent you to find the humans? Do they have any?” she asked.

“Release me and I’ll tell you what I know,” he countered.

She pulled her hand back, stood, and shook her head. “Perhaps we can have this conversation again tomorrow.”

Lucien rose and tried to follow her. He growled in frustration when the chain caught on the table and jerked him to a stop. She stepped out of the cell and closed the door behind her. He glared at her through the thick bars.

“I meant what I said. You might as well kill me, human,” he snarled.

Chawni gave him a steely-eyed stare. “Be careful what you wish for, Lucien Katmoore. It may come true if you are no longer of any use.”

He watched as she walked down the dim corridor. His fingers curled around the wooden spork in his hand and it snapped in half under the pressure. In frustration, he threw the broken pieces at the cell door and watched as they slid through the bars.

His eyes glittered with determination before he released a low chuckle. The human was playing with fire and didn’t realize it. He was a master at escaping. Time and patience would work to his advantage. If she wanted to play games, he would play—but by his rules, not hers.

“One day, my little human soldier, you’ll make a mistake and when you do, I’ll be ready,” he vowed.

It wasn’t until he sat down that he realized that Chawni must have expected his reaction. Lying on the table was another set of utensils. He pulled it over, unwrapped the spork, and finished eating.

One day soon, my beautiful, intriguing human.

Nightsky estate:

* * *

“Come in, my boy. Come in. What did you discover?”

The quiver in Thaddeus’s voice came not from age but from excitement. Talon Nightsky chuckled when his grandfather patted the space next to him on the bed. He walked across the bedroom to the enormous canopy bed where his grandfather lay against silky, navy-blue sheets. The old shifter’s brilliant white hair stood out against the dark fabric.

“What did Sofia tell you?” he asked, sitting beside his grandfather.

“That you took out some bad shifters who were after the humans,” Thaddeus said.

He waited as his grandfather scooted and sat up against his pillows. Talon was glad to see the healthy color in his grandfather’s face. He had been on his way to bed when he noticed the light still on under his grandfather’s door. Now, he wished he had continued to his bedroom. It would take ages for Thaddeus to calm down and sleep. Robert and Olive weren’t going to be happy with him when they found out.

“Yes. They were ex-military, well-funded, and trained. I need to find out who they were working for,” he replied.

“Do you think it was someone other than the Wyland witch? She’s got the money to afford to hire a bunch of mercenaries. There’s more, though, isn’t there? You found something else.”

He sighed. He should have known his grandfather would sense something was off. The old shifter’s mind was still as sharp as ever even if his body was slowly succumbing to the effects of time.

“Yes, Isabella Wyland has the funds. One man escaped. We expected him to head for the helicopters, but he eluded us,” he said.