Misty’s smile widened. “Don’t worry, I know Graham tried to Challenge you for her, so you don’t have to spare my feelings. For a man who doesn’t like to talk about personal things, Graham has told me a lot. I met him the night you two fought, and you lost.”
“I didn’t lose,” Eric said indignantly. “I was incapacitated by something else. It was a draw.”
“Graham tried to claim it was a draw too. But you both lost, didn’t you?”
Eric sat up. “Hey, this is supposed to be your kidnapping. Me telling you what you should do.”
“I’ll think about it. Meanwhile, I need to return this car and make sure the rest of my life is all right. Including my brother.”
“Paul’s a good kid. He’ll be fine.”
“You have a lot of optimism, Eric.”
“I’ve been around a while,” Eric said. “It’s experience, not optimism.”
“Do you want me to drop you off somewhere?”
“No.” Eric laced his hands behind his head. “I should check up on what the Shifters are doing at your store. Shane can drive me back.”
• • •
"We’re doing this, with or without my dad,” Jace Warden said.
Jace, Eric’s son, stood straight and tall, looking much like his absent father with his dark hair and green eyes, but more alert, more present than Eric ever let himself seem. Since Jace’s mating—he’d recently taken a mate from the Austin Shiftertown—he’d stood even straighter, with more authority than ever.
Graham stood with Jace, facing the Shifters who were annoyed that Eric hadn’t showed yet. Eric wasn’t coming, Graham realized. He’d sent Jace to do this, letting his son take authority. Talking to Misty had been an excuse. Eric had made sure Graham was here to back up Jace if necessary. Cagey Feline.
The Shifters stood in an old airplane hanger forty miles from town, in remote desert, where a human called Marlo kept his planes. The former drug runner now made his money carrying Shifters where they wanted to go. Shifters couldn’t travel outside a state without special permission, but as usual, Shifters had learned how to get around the rules. Marlo did a brisk business hauling Shifters back and forth. He was discreet, reliable, and knew how to avoid problems.
The Fae-blood human who’d been captured sat in a straight-backed chair at the end of the hanger. He’d been bound in chains of silver, spelled, Graham guessed. Sean Morrissey stood with him, the Sword of the Guardian on his back, his father, Dylan Morrissey, at Sean’s side.
Couldn’t be easy for the Fae-blood, facing a roomful of grim-faced Shifters who’d figured out he’d helped screw them in more ways than one. Couldn’t be easy sitting in a room with Dylan either, one of the most formidable Shifters ever born. No one could predict what Dylan would do.
Bowman had come, as had Eoin from Montana. A couple of Shifters from Shiftertowns in Utah and New Mexico were also there, plus Liam and Sean—basically whoever had been able to get there on short notice.
“He won’t tell us his real name,” Liam said, starting without preamble. “Afraid this will give us unfair advantage.”
A rumble of laughter came from everyone but Dylan and Bowman.
“In the human world,” Dylan said, “he goes by Lorcan.”
The Fae flinched slightly. For the most part, he maintained his arrogance, even though he was outnumbered by angry Shifters ready to kill him. Technically Lorcan was employed by the human government, and Lorcan must have believed the humans would rush to his rescue. But if Liam and Dylan had been true to form, the humans wouldn’t even realize Lorcan had gone.
Lorcan’s father, a half Fae, had come up with the concept of the Collars for Shifters, convincing humans twenty years ago, when the existence of Shifters was revealed, that these were the best way to keep the wild and dangerous Shifters under control. Collars used a combination of technology and Fae magic to react to a Shifter’s adrenal system, giving them shocks when they became violent—in the Collar’s opinion.
Dylan’s rumbling voice silenced the Shifters. “Graham has recently discovered that the Fae in Faerie have created swords that can work in conjunction with the Collars—the swords set off the Collars at the will of the sword’s wielder. Is that correct?” Dylan bent to Lorcan, waiting for him to answer.
Lorcan moved in his seat, but his eyes remained haughty. “If a Fae told you that, that Fae is no longer one of us.”
“Huh,” Graham said. “He told me, because he thought he had total control over me. Thought I’d surrender right there and be his pet, then rush out and bring all my Shifter friends back with me to him.”
“You are Shifter,” Lorcan said to him, his arrogance still present. “You have always been a captive. I am not and never will be.”
“You are now, laddie.” Liam picked up one of the spelled chains binding Lorcan and shook it. “These don’t bother me, but they hold you pretty good. Why don’t you tell us what we want to know?”
“And then what? You kill me? If I am to die, then you can live ignorant.”
“We’re not going to kill you,” Dylan said. His tone was quietly calm, deadly. Graham, who didn’t intimidate easily, wanted to shiver. “You will go back to the Fae and tell them that their experiment failed.”
“Will I?” Lorcan asked, disdainful.