a first step, not an endgame,” Max said carefully. “And it’s not just Brady anymore.”
His conclusion was what they all feared.
“It’s a warning shot.” Colin paced the living area, looking ragged and on edge. “There’s no safe place to hide if they’re determined to kill us. Our only chance for survival is to take the fight to them where they live.”
“You want to go at Brady right in front of the news cameras?” Kip didn’t say that like he thought it was a bad idea.
“It’s not just Brady,” Colin reminded. “If he adds our father into the mix, we’re done.”
“Ain’t you just a ray a sunshine,” Rico grumbled, flopping down on the sofa. “There’s no denying he can pull numbers we can’t. He knows how we think, what we’ll do.”
“Not all of us, he doesn’t.” Cale looked to Max. “He doesn’t know you.”
This was the moment Max feared was coming, when he’d be called upon to fulfill the role destiny said was his. The Shifter King. If he believed in such things. Apparently, the Terriots did, for they looked to him expectantly. He took a breath and waded in. “We’ll prepare, organize.” He nodded to Rico. “You’ve got the loyalty of the Patrol behind you.”
“Some,” he argued, “not all. We need Tibideaux. He can rally them in ways I can’t as an outsider.”
“Then get Tibideaux.”
A tap on the door distracted them as Mia slipped inside, her gaze seeking Colin. “What’s happened? Can I help?”
Noting Colin’s brief hesitation, Amber smiled at her. “Come in. You’re always welcome.”
So, Max wondered, observing the scene, why didn’t Colin look like it?
He hadn’t seen the former Guedry heir since the hospital. She’d recovered well but as he watched her interact with the others, something seemed . . . off. It was nothing in her appearance, though she was still pale, nor in her mannerisms. It went deeper, to that place he’d tried to reach while she lay upon that hospital bed. Mia Guedry hadn’t been there.
Why wasn’t he sensing her now?
– – –
Relief melted the iron-hard lines of Jacques LaRoche’s face as Max and Silas approached the bar just before the rush began, Silas asking, “Where is he?”
The bar owner tipped the bristle-covered top of his head toward a grouping of empty tables near the back door. “Been there for the better part of two hours, sucking up enough to put a normal fella into a coma or a coffin.”
Studying the lone figure slumped over his glass in the shadows, Max mused, “He doesn’t look dangerous.”
“Well, I’m not taking any chances after the last time he drank up my inventory and nearly ripped my clientele to pieces. I’m making him your problem.”
“We’ll take care of it.” Silas assured with a placating smile.
Jacques merely shrugged. “Just do it quick and quiet and without any property damage.”
Max nodded to the back stairs. “Your office available?”
“As long as you don’t make a mess I have to clean up.”
For the two of them to approach the table without Colin Terriot noticing set off alarms. Even a glaze of drunkenness couldn’t cover the sharp edge of pain in his face as he blinked slowly to acknowledge them.
“Hey, got a minute?” Silas reached for an elbow, tugging determinedly to haul the big Shifter’s unresponsive weight from the chair.
When an uncoordinated effort failed to find his glass, Max interceded with a quiet, “I’ll get that for you.”
“Holy crap,” MacCreedy grumbled, struggling to drag the listing figure up the short flight of steps, “Might as well be towing a cement truck with its parking brake on.” Colin’s head rolled back, the momentum taking them back down two of the stairs. “A hand, Savoie?”
With Max on the opposite side, they managed to navigate their rudderless barge of a friend, who was determined to go anywhere but in the right direction, into Cheveux du Chien’s pristine office. Before they reached the right-angled leather couches, Colin muttered, “I need to sit down,” and the muscles in his sturdy legs liquefied. Max managed to get a hip under his to act as fulcrum, tipping the huge Terriot toward the final drop to the cushions. Expensive upholstery groaned beneath the sudden deposit of his weight.
While Silas went into the small bathroom to wet a towel and fetch an equally chilled water bottle from the mini-fridge, Max arranged uncoordinated arms and legs to keep the drunken prince from toppling over. Colin’s head dropped onto the couch back, jaw loosening for the issuance of a sound-barrier-breaking snore. MacCreedy plopped the