Page 3 of Elven Crown

“It’s…an elf thing.” Rebecca mentally kicked herself for such a stupid answer, but she couldn’t start backtracking now.

That would only alert Maxwell to something else incredibly fishy going on here, and she was trying to get him to leave her and Rowan alone, not to suspect even more foul play fromher. That would force him to stay by her side, no matter what she did or said.

When his long silence stretched even longer, Rebecca pulled her gaze away from the holding room and looked up into the shifter’s glowing silver eyes.

Maxwell lowered his voice through another growl and leaned toward her. “That’s hardly an effective baseline for establishing a plan of action, Knox.”

“Well it’s the only baseline we’ve got.”

His eyes flashed again with silver light as he stared her down.

All the rage and obligation and uncertainty that existed just below the surface of Maxwell Hannigan’s stony exterior was already bubbling up, about to boil over at any second now.

Rebecca could feel it.

She’d been feeling more and more pieces of the shifter’s internal struggle lately, all of it with steadily increasing intensity and frequency.

The fact that all that churning conflict inside him called to her like flame called to a moth made thisthingbetween them that much more confusing and distracting. Not to mention downright dangerous under the wrong circumstances.

These were definitely the wrong circumstances.

She shoved it all aside and focused on the cold, hard facts.

She couldn’t let Maxwell interrogate Rowan, and she couldn’t let Rowan ruin everything she’d built for herself with Shade.

She had to get serious, and she had to make her Head of Security believe it too.

With a sigh, Rebecca lowered her voice. “Listen—”

“Rick,” he interrupted with a jerk of his head toward the open door. “Go get the—”

“No, Rick.” Rebecca nodded at the blackhorn, who looked both terrified and confused when he realized his superiors were yet again at odds with each other and their commands. “You’re not going anywhere. Leave the Needle where it is.”

She returned her gaze to Maxwell’s flashing silver eyes above a darkening scowl and added, “You and Rick are going to help the wounded out of here. Get them cleaned up. See that whoever needs extra attention gets to the infirmary. Then give me five minutes with the prisoner.”

The knuckles of his right hand popped and crunched when he flexed it into a fist and snarled, “Of all the reckless—”

“Reckless?” she interrupted, stepping toward him and lifting her chin. “Sure. You’re probably right. But it’s also an order, and I expect you to get it done.ThenI’ll have my five minutes with the prisoner. That’s all I need.”

Another low growl rose from Maxwell’s throat, and his entire body stiffened like he was about to spring at her and take out all his aggression on the wrong elf.

But he held himself together like she knew he would.

Maxwell Hannigan was a shifter who valued duty and protocol and the chain of command above everything else, as he had since the day they’d met.

“Fine,” he snapped. “But for the record, I think this is the wrong call.”

“I have no problem with that going on the record,” she told him. “Just as long as this gets done.”

She stood back and waited against the wall with her arms folded while Maxwell whistled to the other members of his security team waiting outside. Then they got to work dragging out the dozen Shade operatives their elven prisoner had immobilized in a matter of minutes—all on his own and while no one else was watching.

Rebecca didn’t protest when Maxwell ordered two other operatives to level their augmented assault rifles at the elf man’s face while the others helped their fallen comrades back up to their feet and out of the holding room. One by one they emerged, limping into the hall, groaning, wiping blood off minor cuts and abrasions.

Everyone glowered at the russet-haired elf still sitting on the table.

Rowan watched the whole thing like it was a contrived act he’d come specifically to see for himself—after paying a pretty penny for it, too.

Part of Rebecca wanted to laugh at his constant carelessness, the way she used to laugh at it so very long ago.

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