Authors: Alex Kidwell
Redford drew in a deep breath, reminding himself that they needed information, not for him to break Buck’s computers. They hadn’t talked about their strategy, but Redford knew what the right play would be here. People like Buck liked to feel in control. They liked to know that people needed them and their help.
So, he’d start with that.
“We need your help, Mr. Cambridge,” Redford said. From the way Buck looked at him, the man clearly didn’t recognize him, which worked for Redford. “We found this bullet. From the etching on the bottom we can tell that it’s yours, but we’re trying to track down the people that are using them.”
He withdrew the silver bullet he’d stashed in his pocket and handed it over the desk to Buck. It looked tiny in Buck’s grip, so he obviously wasn’t crafting them with his own hands. He wouldn’t have the dexterity to do so.
“I know how much you like your custom-made toys.” Jed’s voice was a low rumble, shoulders held in a tense line. Where Randall and Redford had sat in the chairs on the other side of a low table, Jed had been drawn in next to Buck on a couch. Buck’s hand rested on Jed’s leg, squeezing lightly as Buck examined the bullet.
“I bet you do,” Buck hummed, giving Jed a look. “You quite enjoyed my natural accoutrements as well, as I recall.”
Redford struggled not to growl at the man, turning the very start of the sound into a cough. “Sorry,” he mumbled, waving at Buck to continue. Randall took Redford’s hand, holding on to him. Redford wasn’t sure if that was weird or really nice, considering that Randall’s strong grip was a solid reminder to not go wolf and rip Buck’s throat out.
“These yours or not, Buck?” Jed’s voice didn’t hold any of the lasciviousness or fondness he’d had last time they’d encountered Buck. “And don’t bullshit me. If you remember my preferred positions, then you sure as hell remember what I did to Johnny. I’m not a fan of liars.”
The threat was there under Jed’s bland expression, but Buck just laughed. “Hands and knees, with me buried inside of you,” he murmured with a wink. “Oh, yes, I recall all of that very clearly.”
“The bullet, Buck,” Jed prompted.
“You are so much less fun now, Walker,” Buck grumped. “Last time you didn’t mind mixing business with pleasure.”
“Yeah, well, this time I’m not under the impression that getting fucked by you would be pleasurable,” Jed all but growled. “Damn it, Buck, stop jerking me around. You’re not as good at it as you think.”
Redford’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. If he took away their current worries and tension, he would swear by his and Jed’s relationship. They were the most steady, most reliable thing he’d ever had in his life. However, Jed still casually flirted with other men. Redford knew him well enough to know it wasn’t completely serious, but the instinctive reaction was there.
So he would have sworn that Jed would flirt with Buck to ease the flow of information along. Redford hadn’t liked the idea, he would prefer to go with any other way, but he bowed to Jed’s superior experience.
Jed looked absolutely disgusted at Buck’s flirting.
Buck’s hand clenched tighter on Jed’s leg. “You certainly didn’t seem to mind,” he hissed.
Jed’s lips twisted into a smirk. “Yeah, well, I’ve gotten fucked by a proper cock now, so. Call it inexperience.”
Randall slouched in his chair, sighing. “Charm, Jed,” he muttered under his breath. “We were going to go with charm.” Redford couldn’t find it within himself to make the same protest. He just rubbed a hand over his mouth to hide a little smirk.
Buck spluttered ineffectively, standing up and looming over Jed. It occurred to Redford that it was a position Jed must have been in before—sitting there with Buck leaning over him, his mouth at just the right height for Buck to take advantage of it. But instead of leering or making a comment to point out that fact, Jed rose to his feet, jaw jutting out in stubborn anger. “I want to know who ordered those bullets, Bucky,” Jed pressed, voice hard. “Or I’m going to get really irritated. You don’t want me irritated at you, do you? You remember how very, very creative I can get.”
Going faintly pale, Buck tried to glare Jed down. When that didn’t work, he swiveled his scowl onto Randall, who was calmly examining his nails, and then to Redford.
Redford just glared back, lifting his lip in a hint of a snarl. He still wasn’t sure that he made for a very threatening figure, but he did his best.
When Buck turned back to Jed, Jed just gave him a huge grin, the manic edges of it more disturbing than any scowl Jed could work up. “Chop, chop, Bucky.”
“Please don’t make him explode something,” Randall sighed, straightening the front of his sweater. “This is a new cardigan.”
Deflating a bit, Buck seemed to know he’d lost. He could call for security, but Redford had seen Jed in action. It was highly likely there’d be some serious injuries and property damage before it was all said and done, if Jed didn’t just kill Buck where he stood. And apparently Buck had seen Jed work as well, because he silently went to his desk and opened a locked drawer. In it was row after row of neatly organized flash drives. After a moment of searching, Buck pulled out one and held it out to Jed.
“Everything I have. It isn’t much.” Buck smirked faintly, taking pleasure in that fact. “It’s an umbrella holding company. You’ll never get past that.”
Jed examined the flash drive. His expression revealed nothing when he said, “This’ll tell me the how, but not the why. Why are they kidnapping the wolves?”
“You think I give a shit
why
?” Buck shrugged carelessly. “They could want extras for dance parties for all I know. I just supply, I don’t ask.”
“Yeah, well, fuck you.” Eloquent as always, Jed tucked the flash drive into his pocket for safekeeping. “You must get
paid
somehow. You got hired somehow. Don’t play the blushing virgin now, Bucky. You’re shit at it, and I know how the business works.”
“As I said.” Buck smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt fastidiously, a scowl creasing his broad face. “It’s all on the drive. But if you must know, I’m paid in cash via courier after every new shipment. I hire the hunters through the usual channels, ads in the right papers or on the type of message boards they prefer. Low-end muscle for hire at best, but they do the job. I pass on instructions that are e-mailed to me and pay the men when the time comes. That’s really it for me, Jed. I’m a middleman, nothing more.”
“You’re a goddamn parasite is what,” Jed growled. For a moment Redford could see the indecision on his face, the tenseness in his arms that usually preceded violence. In the end, though, Jed just clenched his jaw and nodded at Redford and Randall, before turning to go. “Oh, and, Buck? You call your meathead security, try to follow us, so much as
sneeze
in our direction, I will give you a replay of San Francisco that will make you wish you’d gone into another profession. We clear?”
“Crystal.” Buck spat out the word, sitting back down heavily. “Now get out of my office.”
That was one order from the man that Redford was entirely too happy to follow. He rose from his chair just after Randall did and followed Jed to the door.
“Oh, and, Buck?” Redford turned back to face him. “Jed’s favorite position isn’t hands and knees anymore. He likes to see my eyes.”
With that, he closed the door on Buck.
Jed urged them to walk just a little faster. Clearly he didn’t entirely trust that Buck’s common sense would outlive his ire. They reached the vehicle without incident, Randall immediately climbing inside. But before Redford could open his door, Jed had grabbed his wrist and spun him around. Redford was pressed back against the van, Jed kissing him, hard, both hands cupping Redford’s face. It was one of their hungry, deep kisses, the kind where it felt like Jed was trying to sink into him, their tongues twining together, their breaths lost in an endless moan.
It probably didn’t solve anything. It didn’t wipe out their tension. But it still felt amazing, and when Redford drew back he was smiling.
“You’re incredible,” Jed told him hoarsely, holding his gaze.
And you didn’t flirt with him
, Redford wanted to say. He wanted to tell Jed just how thankful he was for that, just how relieved. But he should probably save that for when there wasn’t the distinct possibility that Buck’s security would be coming after them.
Instead, he said, “I love you.” The raw honesty almost hurt a little, but he wanted to say it. He
needed
to say it.
Jed’s expression was agonized. His eyes searched Redford’s, his thumb tracing an arc against Redford’s cheek. “I love you too. I’ll always love you, Fido.”
They got back into the van, and Redford grasped Jed’s hand tightly for a moment before he released it to let him drive. He felt a little lighter now. Jed still loved him, and they had information from Buck, which would be incredibly useful for the pack. Maybe, just maybe, everything might work out.
“So”—Randall’s voice broke into the moment Redford and Jed were sharing—“did anyone else notice he was a minotaur?”
C
ROWDING
SIX
people into Jed and Redford’s cabin was a tight fit, but they managed to make it work. Victor, Randall, and Jed were standing around the table, studying the contents of the flash drive on the laptop Randall had brought. Edwin and Anthony were slouched on the unused bed, a game of cards between them. Every once in a while they’d look up toward the intense research going on and get a look on their faces like they just might die from boredom.
Redford had curled up on his and Jed’s bed, back against the wall. From there he had a decent view of the laptop without taking up important space around the table.
“A minotaur half blood,” Victor mused. “That’s incredibly fascinating. I’ve seen mentions of them in records, but they’re apparently quite rare.”
“Because they’re stupid,” Randall pointed out. He was hunched over the laptop, fingers dancing across the keys. “And slow. And
God
, they stink.”
“So… he’s got
bull
balls.” Jed had said that a few times already, but he repeated it again with an amused smirk.
And, like every time since the first, Randall sighed at him. “No. Those are not bull balls. Please stop.”
“Like, he’s a bull. He has balls. They’re bull balls.” For some reason, Jed found that incredibly funny to say. “Buck’s bull balls.”
“He’s not… a minotaur is not literally a bull,” Randall tried, for the twelfth time, to explain the difference.
“I am going to
literally
die of boredom,” Edwin piped up.
“Figuratively, Edwin.” Randall turned to snap at his brother. “You cannot
actually
die from not being entertained.”
This was apparently a fight they’d had before, because Anthony immediately rolled his eyes.
“You don’t know that!” Edwin insisted. “What if I’m the first?”
“Then you are a medical miracle. Can you please just hold it together for two more seconds—”
“That’s what you said an
hour
ago, but Jed keeps making the same bad nonjoke and Victor is giving you googly eyes and it’s boring.”
“Okay, children,” Anthony said loudly, lightly cuffing the back of Edwin’s head. “Sooner or later there’ll be something you can help with, Edwin. Just be patient.” He turned to Randall. “Do we have anything useful Edwin and I can do?”
Despite his admonishment of Edwin, Anthony too looked absolutely desperate for something to do that wasn’t sitting around while other people parsed through information.
Jed took pity on them. “Why don’t you guys go for a run? That clearing, I’m betting someone went to clean up the bodies. Sniff around, see if anything smells interesting?”
“Oh, thank God,” Anthony said in relief. “Great idea, Jed. Come on, Edwin, we’ll go check out that site.”
Edwin was shifting before Anthony’s hand had even hit the door. He stopped to butt his head against Randall’s legs. Randall crouched down, rubbing behind Edwin’s ear, whispering lowly to him and then watching, expression fond, as Edwin charged out the door. Randall’s annoyance seemed to have faded as suddenly as it came.
Redford didn’t know what it was like to have siblings; it looked nice. He found himself almost smiling at the sight of them. Victor had already forgotten about the whole thing and was once more intently studying the laptop.
“So how, exactly, are we going to find who’s giving orders to Mr. Cambridge?” Victor turned to face Jed.
“Follow the money.” Jed stretched, arms to the ceiling, arching so that his back cracked. “It’s all we’ve got. If we can figure out who is bankrolling this little escapade, we can get some traction on this whole thing.”
With a faint sigh, Victor looked at the laptop. “Well, it’s not my area of expertise, but I suppose I can figure it out.” He frowned down at the keys he was tapping, muttering under his breath, “I hate computers.”
“Yes, they can be quite distressing.” Randall leaned over, easily sliding the laptop to himself with a little smile. “I don’t think this is going to be found in the card index. Perhaps I could drive?” His fingers flew expertly over the keys as Randall hunched in over the computer. Victor looked immeasurably relieved.
“Wolves have Wi-Fi?” Jed didn’t look like he quite trusted Randall with technology. “You guys are out in the boonies.”
“We’ve had satellite for a few years. We’re not quite in the dark ages.” Randall flicked his gaze to Jed, amused. “I also used to stay late at school to do research, and we had an extremely small library. I’ve gotten quite good at finding obscure information. Really, the Internet is the best library there is. See, Victor? Here there’s a cataloged index of all the medieval texts written between the ninth and eleventh centuries, concentrating specifically on the medicinal uses of animal parts.”
Victor looked fascinated, despite his wary frown. “And how do you know someone hasn’t just made all that up to trick people? People can just write whatever they like on those sites.”
“Because look, there are references here.” Randall seemed to be enjoying his stint as teacher; he scooted a bit closer to Victor. “You can click these links, and they take you back to the source material.”