Page 5 of The Lynx and the Llama
“This llama was especially given to me to mentor!” Richard objected with words that made little sense to Quinn. Richard, his mentor? Weren’t mentors supposed to nurture those under them? All Richard had done was throw more and more work on Quinn.
“And now he’s been given a new job opportunity,” Stan replied. “I knew you’d try to get in the way, and I came to make sure you didn’t. All the paperwork has the T’s crossed and the I’s dotted. You can’t try to stifle this opportunity as you tried with Carol five and a half years ago, Richard, because I won’t let you.”
“Hey! I was only looking out for her! Since her parents passed and all, someone had to. Don’t forget that! And I did it to keep her safe! That’s what I’m trying to do here, for Quinn. Big surprise, another orphan I’ve tried to keep and protect decides I’m not good enough and wants to leave!”
“Richard…” Stan shook his head, and Quinn swore he saw something like sympathy in Stan’s eyes. But why? Was Stan really buying Richard’s load of lies?
Richard cleared his throat, breaking eye contact with Stan. “Quinn is fantastic at being my assistant. He needs to stay here and prove himself further.”
Stan crossed his arms and planted his feet firmly in place. “Are you even listening to yourself right now? You sound worse than any drama-llama I’ve known! And I can think of at least one other in this Academy who is pretty bad. Heck—Quinn is a llama, and he’s never been this over the top. Especially not like you are right now. Richard, the boy has a right to move on.”
Richard’s eyes widened into saucers, and Quinn had never witnessed such a sight. It felt good to watch his boss being put in his place, whether Quinn had something directly to do with it or not.
“But you said it yourself. Quinn’s just a boy. He needs more time to be nurtured before we feed him to the proverbial wolves. Or, in this case—Zagan! Quinn was that madman’s pin cushion for far too long. Can’t I want to keep him safe for a little longer?”
Heat rushed from Quinn’s gut and shot straight to his cheeks like a bottle rocket. It didn’t sit right with him that two men stood there in front of him discussing his life. Not only that, but how dare Richard speak like he actuallycaredabout Quinn? No, Quinn had heard words like that before—from Zagan. And he wouldn’t be fooled by them again. No one—No. One!—was going to tell Quinn how to live his life. Especially not his dick of a boss.
“Not one person gets to tell me what I can or can’t do!” Quinn stood from his desk and spat the words as if venom were coming out of his mouth. Yeah, he was a llama, and they got testy if provoked, but what Richard had just done? He didn’t just poke the hornet’s nest—he tried for a home run with a baseball bat, and that would not happen. Not on Quinn’s watch. Nope! “I have been taking care of myself since the age of seventeen and ever since Stan’s team rescued me from Zagan, I’ve wanted to collar the bastard myself! Training as BS gets me one step closer to my goal! You will not deny me that right, Richard. Stop being a dick!”
He almost wanted to take back his last sentence. Almost. But his boss—no, make thatex-boss—had crossed a line, and Quinn wasn’t taking it all that well.
Richard’s eyes widened to saucers again.
“I’m sorry!” Richard said, shocking Quinn with the words—shocking him even more with the way his face softened into something that looked like actual chagrin. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just I want nothing bad to happen to you, Quinn. I feel you are my responsibility sometimes.”
There was something in his tone thatalmostmade Quinn believe him. Almost. But he had to remember who he was dealing with. Richard wasnota good guy. Good at his job, yes—which was the only reason Quinn could find for why FUCN’A kept him on—but a goodperson? No. He cheated on Carol, treating her poorly while they were together and afterward, from what Quinn had been told. Richard had gone through a revolving door of assistants who couldn’t stand to work with him, proving he was a bad boss. And he’d certainly not shown any genuine care for Quinn at any point while they’d worked together.
“Well, you’re not my keeper,” Quinn said, crossing his arms and planting his feet more firmly into the floor. “I mean I can appreciate the fact that both you and Stan have been surrogate father-figures to me in some ways since rescuing me from Zagan’s lab. But I lost my parents a long time ago. I don’t need someone to protect me. I’m old enough to protect myself. This is not up for discussion. I am going.”
Yeah, what he said about the men was only a half-truth. Quinn indeed looked up to Stan and considered him a father-figure in his life. But he didn’t feel the same way about Richard. The guy was an impossible PITA—Pain In The Ass—to be around. If anything, Quinn could only liken Richard to a very distant uncle.
“Exactly. This isn’t up for discussion,” Stan added, looking at Richard. “So you can either let him go on good terms, or you can do what you’re known for—act like a Dick about it.”
Seeming to choose the later, Richard stormed off into his office, slamming the door for emphasis.
“Don’t let him get to you,” Stan said, looking back at Quinn. “Here’s a folder for you to peruse. It has tactics that Bonafide Security has used in the past for the Shifter Hellenic Island Talks. This is the first year the talks will be in Santorini, so some of this might not work on that island. It is a bit more touristy than the previous islands. But there’s been talk resurfacing that Santorini is the original lost city of Atlantis. Lear has witnessed sea turtle shifters unfamiliar to him on the island and wants to see if they may be Atlantean shifters or part of Zagan’s gang. Many of them have been combing Ancient Akrotiri, which worries Lear because some of his people have gone missing. It’s all there in the report.”
“Thanks, Stan. This will be great reading material for the long flight.”
“Now, how about you head on home and pack? You’ll be there for less than a week, and you don’t have much time between now and six a.m. to pack your street clothes. Carol will have your standard-issued security uniforms, complete with combat boots, when you get there. Still, you will also have to pack things to blend in. A lot of your BS sweeps will be done in your civies.”
“Will do, boss. I’ll pack enough, then.”
Quinn gave Stan a smile and then looked thoughtfully toward Richard’s door. In all this time he’d thought Richard just a dick, had there really been a part of him that had cared?
Quinn might never know, but he certainly wasn’t sticking around to find out.
* * *
The next morning Quinn woke up before his alarm, excited to start his next adventure in life. He quickly showered and gathered the suitcases he’d left by the door the night before. He took one last glance around his room and then headed out, not looking back again.
He was determined to make the most out of the next several days, no matter what they might bring him. A pang squeezed his heart as he thought about his parents. While he’d never recovered all his memories—including his last name—hehadremembered that he’d always wanted to make them proud. He hoped to live up to that legacy as a trained Bonafide Security agent.
“Can I get you anything to eat or drink, Mr. Taylor?”
The flight attendant broke his thoughts with the question he wasn’t actually prepared to answer.
“Some crackers and whatever beer you’ve got—high test, of course.” Quinn gave her a smile, and she headed to the back of the plane to get him his specially formulated alcoholic beverage. Because of his shifter side, he wouldn’t get buzzed off of human liquor, but with the shifter stuff, which was definitely a high-test concoction, he could. Not that Quinn wanted to get drunk, of course! He’d be on duty in a little over a day from now, so he didn’t want to get crazy—just one drink to celebrate his new venture and to help him relax during the long flight. He wasn’t exactly fond of flying—llamas liked to keep their cloven hoofs firmly on solid ground—so anything that would take the edge off was something he’d welcome.
