Page 85 of Faith and Fury

“Glad you could make it,” I go on. “I’m sure your fellow guards were pleased to see you.”

Still, he says nothing. I start to worry he’s too loopy to hear what I’m even saying. Either that, or he’s smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

“Then again,” I go on, “most of these guys are probably shit-scared of you. Isn’t that right?” I shrug. “Big boss of the ring guard.”

Finally, a flicker of awareness in his beady eyes. “Done your homework, have you?”

I sense Maverick bristle behind me, getting excited. Now we’ve got him talking.

“Someone has,” I tell him. “Honestly, you’re a little below my pay grade.”

Axe glowers. He goes quiet again, but I know he won’t stay that way.

“You remember my colleague,” I say, gesturing to Maverick.

Axe tries to sneer, but his lip is too broken to pull it off. “I remember shooting your colleague. He basically swooned like a bitch in heat.”

My guard shoots up when Maverick leans in, bracing his hands against the table. He’s going to retaliate, my alpha warns me, but Maverick’s pheromones are steady when he rumbles, “Guess it’s just as well I got you back, huh?”

Axe scowls. “The fuck are you—”

“Don’t you remember?” Maverick tilts his head. “How I beat you within an inch of your life? The doctors said you’re lucky there’s no permanent brain damage. But hey—” he rises, folding his arms, “—what’s a couple extra battle scars? No shame in getting bested by another alpha.”

It takes Axe a couple seconds to pick up what Maverick’s saying. Half of this remand facility knows who he is. What he’s capable of. If they catch wind that he was beaten, not by an RDF guard, but by an omega, he’ll lose the only thing he’s got left.

Their respect.

“What do you want?” Axe grumbles venomously.

“Locations,” I say. “We found you beneath the juncture off Harrelson, but that was all we found. Where are the ringleaders keeping the rest of the rogues?”

Axe scoffs. “I’m not giving you that.”

“You’ll give us that and more,” I return, “unless you want us to come clean about how you actually got your skull knocked in?”

“It’s not an equal bargain,” he says with an air of self-importance. “You want information, sure, but let’s not pretend I owe you my life here.”

“And the ringleaders do?” Maverick challenges.

Axe stills, watching us with more precision than I thought him capable. “Mm. So, the bitch told you about that.”

I bite back a snarl. Maybe it was naïve of me to think we could get through this without talking about Faith, but to hear him be so fucking vulgar … I’m not sure how much my alpha can take.

“Here’s an equal bargain for you,” I say between my teeth, “we keep the details of your beat-down to ourselves, and you tell us about this mysterious bidder the ringleaders have lined up for F-7.”

I hate that I’m using Faith’s tag, but it also makes it easier to stay collected—feels less like I’m talking about her.

Axe starts to grin. “I’m listening.”

“We need a name,” Maverick demands.

“Don’t got a name. None of the bidders do.”

“Then we need whatever it is you use to identify them,” I snarl.

He rolls his eyes, then grimaces, like even that is too much pressure in his stitched-up head. “The ringleaders have their ways. But me, I just know him as another old white guy with a gold-plated cane. Reeks of cigars.”

“An alpha,” I clarify.

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