Page 30 of Black Moon

He shrugged. “Just didn’t think it was relevant.”

“Right.” I twisted a loose thread at the edge of the menu and pinched it off.

“Can I get you boys some coffee?” Ms. Chadwick asked, sugar in her tone. When I met her eyes, she looked bothered.

And, even though I was snapping at her son in the middle of the family business, she didn’t look angry at me, either.

“A coffee would be wonderful, Ms. Chadwick, thank you.”

Skip grunted, and she went off to get us mugs.

“So, even assuming this kidnapping had nothing to do with the topic of the article I was writing, you didn’t think it’d be relevant to me, an omega, that there might be cause for concern, wandering the streets late at night?”

Wide eyed and shocked, he blinked at me. “I’d never let anything happen to you.”

One deep breath—that was supposed to calm people down, right?—and I exploded.

“It’s not fucking up to you what happens to me!”

Customers turned to look at us, some shocked, some amused, and Ms. Chadwick was silent as stone when she set coffee on the table between us.

Mad as I was, I didn’t think I needed to make a public spectacle when I wanted the pack as a whole to still consider me to be, you know, sane and reliable and trustworthy.

I leaned across the Formica tabletop and glared at the alpha across from me. “You’re not my pack alpha. You’re notmyalpha. And I can take care of my fucking self. So what I want you to do is tell me why I’m here.”

Skip sat there, his shoulders inching slowly up toward his ears. I wasn’t sure what happened to alpha nerves when the omegas around them got pissed—Mom would’ve died before raising her voice to Dad like this—but I didn’t owe Skip Chadwick the consideration I’d give a mate.

“You asked to come,” he said tightly.

Before I’d planned anything, I slipped out of the bench. With my hand on the table, I leaned over him.

“Bullshit. See, what I think’s going on is that the Grove pack lost an omega. Given how things are going lately, the Condition dwindling our numbers, alphas on edge, that’d understandably make you antsy. So, instead of fighting for Brook, you figured an asset’s an asset. Lose one, find another, huh? So while Linden and Zeke and the Morgans are focused on saving one of your own pack, you’re trying to show you can provide too. A simpler way—one that nobody’s even got to fight for. Because if you gave a single damn about Brook Morgan, you’d have spent more time talking about how to get him back than posturing for your dumbass friends.”

I stepped back while his mouth was still hanging open, and dropped a five-dollar bill on the counter for Ms. Chadwick.

“Thanks for the coffee,” I called to her over my shoulder.

“Anytime, sweetie.”

And if I weren’t entirely mistaken, that was amusement in Ms. Chadwick’s voice.

15

Linden

Friday came, and there had been no story from Colt.

Not that I’d expected him to break his word, but it was still a huge relief.

There were whispers around town about how “Skip’s new omega” had broken up with him, right in the middle of the restaurant. Since I knew damn well they hadn’t been dating to begin with, I figured Skip had just annoyed Colt, and been treated to the resulting anger. No less than he deserved, really, if everyone was right about him.

Under different circumstances, I’d have tried to get to know Skip, find the problem and help him see it as well...but boy did I have bigger fish to fry than why Skip seemed to repel parts of the pack.

We’d made a point of taking Friday casually. No big meeting of pack enforcers all getting together and preparing to go invade Reid territory where everyone could see.

No, Zeke called them one by one, over the course of the day. He summoned them to Grove House, and as they arrived, we prepared. Everyone was congregating in the basement, in what was usually the game room—complete with bar, dart board, and pool table. On this occasion, the pool table was covered with a topographical map of the local area, and no one was playing any games.

The most sensible bet was that Maxim Reid himself was keeping Brook prisoner. He’d never been shy about his belief in the positively feudal notion that anything owned by a member of his pack belonged to him. And without a doubt in my mind, I was sure Maxim thought he now owned Brook.

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