Page 9 of Queen of Rebels (Shifters of Sherwood #3)

"I cannot believe," Will says, delicately picking up a neon orange Cheeto between his thumb and forefinger like it might bite him, "that this is what passes for dinner." He inspects it from every angle, nose wrinkled.

I snort, cramming another handful into my mouth. "Sorry it’s not up to your refined palate.” The artificial cheese dust coats my fingers, and I lick it off without shame. We’re literally fugitives, so table manners aren't exactly priority one right now, and the salty hit of junk food is giving me life. I’m acting more feral than the four of them combined.

"Now children," Tuck chides, but he's grinning as he arranges our feast across the rickety card table. There's quite the spread: three different kinds of beef jerky, a family size bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, some slightly squished honey buns, and a pack of Twinkies that didn't survive their trip in my jacket entirely intact. The piece de resistance is a jar of pickle-flavored popcorn that I grabbed purely because it sounded so cursed. “Not exactly high in nutrients or dietary fiber,” he remarks. “But you’ll live, Will.”

"Remember that time in Miami?" LJ rumbles from his spot against the wall, good eye glinting with amusement. "When His Highness here had to survive on gas station sushi for three days?"

Will shudders. "I try very hard not to, thank you."

"You should've seen him," Rob tells me, reaching across to snag one of the mangled Twinkies. "Looked like he was about to write a strongly worded letter to corporate every time he took a bite."

"I maintain that calling it 'sushi' was false advertising bordering on criminal." Will finally pops the Cheeto in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "This isn’t so bad, though.”

"Oh? Do tell." I smirk at him.

"The artificial cheese flavor profile is surprisingly complex. Notes of MSG, cultural decline, and regret."

"Fucking hell," LJ mutters, but he’s smiling.

The laughter feels good, strangely normal despite everything.. We're all deliberately not looking at the milky white of LJ's right eye, at the way Rob keeps rolling his shoulders like they still ache from a prison cot. At how this bootlegger's shack and pile of junk food is a far cry from what we’re used to.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Tuck says suddenly, pushing his glasses up his nose. "That first week after Rob found me. When I was still convinced you and Will going to murder me and dump my body in the woods."

“Really?” I cackle with laughter. “Wait. Murder? I thought you guys knew each other as kids.” I point from Rob to Tuck.

Tuck blushes. “To be fair, I didn’t exactly expect him to show back up in my life.”

"To be even fairer,” Will adds, "we did technically kidnap you."

I almost choke on my Dorito. “Kidnap?” This I have to hear. I curl my feet under me on the floor. “Spill.”

“Maren’s never heard this? Oh, this is a good story," Will says, settling back in his rickety chair. "Go on, Tuck. Tell her about the kidnapping incident."

The story spills out between bites of junk food and bursts of laughter - how Will and Rob had pulled off a series of successful heists but were sitting on money they couldn't move effectively. Until Rob remembered a certain summer camp friend who was always wickedly good at number stuff.

“You don’t exactly forget a kid who already has plans to set up an IRA the minute he turns eighteen,” Rob says. “Just had to track him down at school.”

“You’re welcome,” Will interjects.

"So I'm creeping around campus at midnight," Rob explains, "checking if it's really him, and I spot this skinny freshman sneaking out of his dorm... as a wolf.”

"I was stress-shifting!" Tuck protests. "Finals week is brutal." His cheeks flush pink under his freckles. "In my defense, I was also very sleep-deprived and had been living exclusively on energy drinks for about a week..."

“Wait,” I say, holding up a pause, please finger. “You knew he was a shifter?”

“Knew? He almost blew my cover.” Rob laughs.

“Me blow your cover?” Tuck grins. “Everyone at Camp Rappahannock almost found out the ‘raccoon’ trying to break into the mess hall at night for snacks was actually me.”

“Still can't believe you two were camp friends," Will mutters. “Must have been nice to just run into another shifter like that.”

"More like literally colliding into each other in the dark," Rob says. "This genius here was so focused on the smell of Pringles coming from the kitchen window, he didn't even notice me until we were both sprawled in the dirt."

"Says the fox who was too busy preening and practicing what he was going to say to Chelsea or Kelsey or whatever her name was in Bunk 6 once you snuck over there,” Tuck retorts.

I crack up. I can’t help it.

"Anyway," Rob waves his hands to clear the air, “I follow him to the library and go get Will—”

“And there I am, meanwhile,” Tuck picks up the thread, "passed out on my economics textbook at 3 AM, when suddenly someone throws a bag over my head. And I'm thinking 'This is it, the economics department has finally snapped.' Then I hear this familiar laugh, and then..."

"He shifted into a fox right in the library,” Will adds. "Nearly gave me a heart attack."

“Gave you a heart attack?” Tuck cries. “You KIDNAPPED me! From a LIbrARY!”

"We left a note!” Rob says.

"'Gone to become a criminal mastermind, back after finals' is not a proper note!"

My ribs are starting to ache from laughing so hard.

"Worked though, didn't it?" Rob grins. "Your RA just thought you were having a stress breakdown."

"Which wasn't even wrong," Will points out. "You did spend the next week building us an entire international banking network while surviving on nothing but Red Bull and Pop-Tarts."

“This was before I got into cooking,” Tuck says apologetically. He presses his palms together in a bow for forgiveness. “And I got an A on my finals too. Though I still don't know how you convinced my professors to let me take them remotely."

"That was all Rob,” Will says. "Told them you had a family emergency.”

“Technically true,” Rob says. “Helping your summer camp brother figure out how to launder money for good causes is very urgent. Never figured you’d up and drop out, though.”

“I was...disenchanted,” Tuck says, a little softer. “This felt like something actually worthwhile. Better than a summer interning at Goldman.” He straightens up. “Though I maintain that kidnapping was unnecessary. You could have just asked."

“Aw, but that’s no fun,” Rob says, shoving his shoulder. “Besides, you loved it.”

“First thing he said after we took the bag off his head was 'Please tell me this is about the suspicious patterns I found in the Deutsche Bank transfers,’” Will says.

“Ooh,” I murmur, giggling. “I love it when you talk dirty, Tuck.”

Everyone laughs—except Tuck, and especially LJ.

“You think that’s bad?” LJ says, pointing at Will. “Who wants to hear about the time Will tried to seduce a mark at a gallery opening and accidentally started a bidding war over a painting of dogs playing poker?"

The stories flow like wine, each one more ridiculous than the last. But as our makeshift feast dwindles to empty bags and crumbs, and everyone’s blood sugar rises, reality creeps back in. I can see it in the way Tuck's fingers drum against the table, how Will's posture gradually stiffens.

When a branch scrapes against the window, we all freeze, laughter gone.

“Maybe we should...” Tuck says lightly, and clears his throat awkwardly.

“What, figure out what the fuck we’re going to do now?” Will says. “I concur.”

“We’re not running,” Rob says, leaning back with his hands laced behind his head. “That’s all I know.”

Crack.

This time, the noise outside sends everyone scrambling. Rob's already moving into a defensive stance. Will and Tuck materialize beside me, while LJ positions himself between us and the door.

My heart hammers against my ribs. Shit. Shit. Did someone follow us? Track us through the woods?

"Police!" A familiar voice calls out. "I come in peace."

"Zayn?" Rob relaxes slightly, but I notice the other three don’t lower their guard.

"And I brought coffee.”

That finally gets Rob to open the door.

Zayn steps in, his uniform tidier now, with a cardboard box of to-go coffee in his hand along with a stack of cups. “Hell of a time getting this thing down your little tunnel,” he says, gesturing with it. “But you’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” I say, accepting it eagerly.

Zayn throws a quick glance at Tuck, LJ, and Will, all of whom return it with a hard stare. He shifts his weight and takes in our makeshift feast spread across the card table. "Nice dinner party."

"Pull up a chair," I offer. "Pretty sure we've got some Twinkies left."

"Hard pass." But he's smiling. “You’re not cooking anymore, Tuck?”

"Desperate times," Tuck says, his voice a little raspy, but accepts the coffee I pour for him. I gesture LJ and Will forward too.

“Come on guys,” I say. “You know you want it.”

“It’s not poisoned,” Zayn adds, a joke that nevertheless makes Tuck, mid-sip, go wide-eyed.

"So?" Rob asks, cutting through the awkward moment. "What's the word?"

“It’s...” Zayn's smile fades. “Not good.” He sighs. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get back here sooner. But Guy's furious about the escape. Like, I've never seen him this angry—like a freaking animal.”

Will snorts into his coffee, but Zayn doesn’t notice.

“We’re all getting reamed out even if we were miles away from the jail. Everyone’s getting micromanaged,” Zayn goes on. “But that’s all internal stuff. Outside...he's managing to keep it quiet. Spun the whole thing as a rogue bear attack in the official report, so nothing made it to the papers or anything.”

LJ's good eye narrows at that, but he doesn't comment.

"That all?" Will’s voice carries that dangerous edge I'm learning to recognize.

"No." Zayn glances at each of us in turn. "If they catch you again? No more games. No more cells. You're a dead man, Rob."

The words land like stones in still water.

“Nothing we couldn’t have guessed,” Will says, a bit sharply. “Any real news?”

“Hey, I’m doing my best,” Zayn says. “I’ve never been a double agent before, okay?” He frowns. “Or triple agent.”

“Anything else, Zayn?” I ask, gently. The coffee is exactly what I needed—warm and caffeinated and so badly missed.

Zayn shuffles his feet. “Just that Guy’s got some cocktail fundraiser thing tomorrow night. At the Fox Hunt Club, surprise surprise. Trying to smooth everything over with the rich folks post bear-attack, I bet.”

"Perfect." LJ gives a rare grin. “We’ll crash it. Been a while since I ripped someone's throat out."

"LJ," Tuck starts, but I'm already shaking my head.

"No. We need to be smarter than that. Especially you,” I add to LJ.

"He'll be expecting us to lay low," Will starts, but I shake my head again.

“ No, ” I insist. “And let him win?” I cock my head at Will. “Besides, you don’t want to stay here any longer than you have to.”

Rob turns to look at me, something careful in his expression. "What exactly are you getting at, pretty lady?"

I lean forward, the rickety chair creaking beneath me. "You didn't see what I saw today. People are buying his bullshit. Everyone thinks there’s some sort of crime wave. And people are...” My voice catches, thinking about sweet Mrs. Patterson in her orange vest. “They’re broke,” I say.

"So what's your play, Princess?" LJ asks, his good eye fixed on me intently.

"We have to...” I search for the right word. “Expose him. Somehow. We already know he’s corrupt. We just need to show everyone else.” I can feel the energy building in my chest, that same fire that kept me going when Rob was gone. "People deserve to know the truth."

"It's risky," Tuck says quietly. "We'd need hard evidence."

"Then we'll get it." I look around at each of them, then at Zayn. “This thing’s tomorrow night?”

Zayn nods. “Five p.m. until question-mark o’clock, or so I hear.”

I nod. That tracks. Anything at the Fox Hunt Club never had a hard stop.

“So his house will be empty.”

“Maren...” Rob says, concern in his voice.

"Like Tuck was saying. We need hard evidence. Where else is it going to be?” I clench my fist around my empty coffee up. “We get in, we get proof, we get out. Clean and simple."

"Nothing's ever simple with us, greasemonkey.” Will sighs. "But I suppose that's half the fun." He rubs his chin. “I don’t know. You get...whatever it is, and then what? You send out a press release?”

Tuck, though, nods. “I think she’s right. We can’t really take him on if we don’t know what his game is.”

“And I’ve gotta draw the line at B&Es,” Zayn says. “I’ll get you anything I can from the department. But he’s not exactly having me over for tea parties, you know? His campaign stuff, all of that...” He brushes his palms together. “No can do.”

As if on cue, the radio on his shoulder crackles. “Deputy Rashad, do you copy?”

Zayn grimaces. “That’s my sign.” He presses the button. “Copy. En route.” Releasing it, he looks back at us. “I’ve gotta go. I’m already abandoning my post.”

“Saved by the bell,” Will murmurs. “Awfully convenient.”

Zayn, to his credit, ignores him. “I’ll try to get back here as soon as I can, okay? The scheduling’s pretty strict, but—”

Rob nods, waves him out. “Go. Thanks, man.” They bump fists, and Zayn strides swiftly out the door.

As soon as it swings shut, LJ shakes his head, exchanging a glance with Will.

I clear my throat. “Focus, okay? Let’s figure this out.” I say, leaning forward. "The fewer people in the house, the better, right?” I drum my fingers on the table. “The quicker we can get in and out.”

“So who’s going to go?” Tuck asks.

At that, I hesitate.

Because I already know Gisbourne’s house—having been trapped there for a considerable amount of time. But—

“Three of us,” Rob says, nodding at Tuck and Will. “Me, Wolfman, and Scarlet.”

“The fuck am I, chopped liver?” LJ protests, but Tuck shakes his head.

“You’ve gotta rest, dude.” He looks at Rob. “And the last thing you need is to get caught there. I don’t think either of you should go.”

“Someone should keep an eye on Gisbourne, too,” Will adds. “In case he makes an early exit home.”

“You volunteering?” LJ grunts. Will opens his mouth, but I cut him off.

“Actually, not a bad idea. You’d be able to get back to us the quickest.” I pantomime flapping dragon wings. Will’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t quite smile.

“Or you could send up a signal,” Rob suggests.

“That I could,” Will says. “One well-placed spark and..." He snaps his fingers. “Instant beacon.”

“So you’d...set a tree on fire?" Tuck asks, alarmed.

"Please." Will looks offended. "I have far more finesse than that. But yes, essentially."

“And I should go in,” I say, emboldened by the discussion. “I know the layout so we can get in and out fast.”

LJ's good eye narrows. "Like hell you're going in there alone."

"She won't be alone," Tuck points out mildly, pushing his glasses up. “I’ll go too. If anything’s encrypted or needs to be hacked—”

“I know the door code.” I can’t help but brag. “To his office. Unless it’s changed. And his email password.”

"Real piece of work, that one," Rob mutters. He doesn't look happy about the plan, but he's not arguing. Yet.

“I don’t just want to sit here with my thumb up my ass,” LJ grouses. “I’m not a fucking invalid.”

"Maybe..." Rob rubs his chin. "LJ and I can check on the house. See if the sheriff’s boys are still sniffing around." His lips curl up. “We’d blend right in, a fox and a bear.”

“Okay, so that’s it,” I declare. “Will keeps eyes on the club, ready to signal. Tuck and I slip into the house.”

"Or we could just burn his whole place down," LJ suggests finally, only half-joking. "Solve our problems real quick."

I fix him with a look. "No. No playing dirty like that."

"Playing dirty?”

Rob. When I glance over, his eyes are dark with something that makes my stomach flip.

"Three nights in county," Rob continues, gaze still locked on mine. "Pretty rough. A man gets lonely, is all.”

The temperature in the room seems to spike about twenty degrees. "Do tell," I manage.

“Just saying. Had nothing but memories to keep me warm.” He eyes the other three. “I imagine you had more than memories, though, hm?”

Jesus Christ. My face burns hot enough to melt steel.

SPICE TK