Griffin clears his throat and gives his tie an uncomfortable adjustment.
Well fucking played, Tiny Toes.
Gold grunts his one-word agreement.
Yes.
Pride has me sweetly acknowledging them both.
Thank you.
A.D. pulls a round, orange skinned vegetable from his pajama bottoms to casually munch on right as the hacker begins, “I’ve got bad news, worse news, and bloody awful news. Where would you like me to begin?”
“I see you’re one of those,” I sarcastically smile.
My Fated Mate smirks behind a bite of his snack.
You’ve got M&M’s in your pajama pocket. You might wanna eat them during the meeting. You know. Refuel and shit.
You think I’ll need the energy?
I know I will that’s why I’m eating this red kuri squash. Want a bite?
Not in a thousand lifetimes.
Guess I’ll try again in a thousand and one.
We share an internal laugh that occurs seconds prior to P sighing, “Start at the fucking top, Griffin.”
“As in the first thing I discovered or the worst news I have?”
“You are paid far too much to be this cheeky, griffhole,” Z grumbles, fingers lightly massaging his Fated Mate’s shoulders.
“We’re gonna go in order of murder rules,” I insert myself into the convo while retrieving the bag of chocolate treats from my pocket. “First degree, I.E., the worst shit possible.”
“I’ve been locked out of Magitek’s system entirely.”
Audible grumbles are collectively grabbed from all the men in the room.
“They – apparently – did not take my snooping around their Division of Doom too well.”
Is he fucking up the Legion of Doom cartoon reference or Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom movie reference?
Probably both, on purpose, at the same time to watch you and Dae squirm at him fucking stuff up. He’s not really a fan of the human species as a whole.
Hope The Goddess of Fate mates him to one.
Me. Fucking. Too.
“All efforts to traipse around for information must be momentarily suspended. Once they actively stop looking for leaks and viruses and the calling card that all cocky hackers leave – or the one professionals leave behind to point to their enemies or those that have been getting in their way – I can and will resume my assignment. In the meantime, I will find other ways to be of use. I may be on retainer, which means I’m allowed not to work since it isn’t available; however, I am not lazy.”
“You mean you’re too greedy,” Z points as I shove a mouthful of candy into my mouth. “You know if you stop working at all, P will try to adjust your salary.”
“Correct, The Little Draak with Wood,” he motions to A.D.’s brother’s crotch. “This is my nest and that is my treasure. No one threatens it.”
Muttering around a mouthful causes a tiny piece of candy coating to land on my knee sock-covered feet. “Second degree murder.”
“Your references Bonded One are as equally peculiar as they are entertaining,” Griff announces before proceeding with the information. “The worst news is that I discovered exactly the type of experiments they were doing on Krystie.”
Karry anxiously inches closer. “And?”
“They created a magically, infused chemical product that slows down one’s ability to shift.” He fiddles with his tie in what I am beginning to believe is a nervous tick. “However, depending on the duration of use, it may permanently stop it all together.”
“Is that why she looks so…mutilated?” Karry quietly investigates.
“I’m afraid so.”
One hand covers her mouth to hold in a choked sob.
“Shifter essence pumps directly from something in your heart chambers,” Dae pipes in like the medical professional she is, although whether she’s rambling to us or herself is not salon mirror clear. “Getting into that without just killing you is unheard of – at least at this time – but creating something as a blocker or a shield that prevents your body from being able to shift between forms is…possible.” Her fingers curl around the end of her Dutch braids, thoughts whirling around in a genius brain I would kill to have. “It sounds like they’ve developed a liquid version of the bullets I dug out of Z and Kaleb.”
Kaleb? Is that your cousin, Little B’s, Fated Mate?
You remembered.
Eh, Genie Gene drew me a cheat sheet. It’s color coded and everything.
“The test results and footage I discovered shortly before I had to spread wings and soar indicates that you are correct, doctor of the house,” Griff’s shoulders, to my surprise, sag in sadness. “Magitek is advancing in their efforts to harm shifters, and it’s been completed quicker than the original timeline we had estimated.”
Waves of worry wash over everyone in the room, and I brace myself closer to my Fated Mate, wanting him to feel as much comfort coming from me as possible. “So, what’s the third-degree, bad but not nearly as fucking bad, as those two pieces of news?”
“Krystie has been auctioned off to a wolf billionaire.”
Jaws hit the ground, yet I grouse, “You clearly don’t understand how this system fucking works!”
“Neither do the Sleepers on the other side of The Fog, Bonded One, that’s why they have more problems than solutions.” He doesn’t give me a chance to retort. “Nevertheless, this is the best nugget of the bunch because she is being delivered during a yacht party finally giving you lot an open opportunity to rescue her.”
Seeing his point, but still not liking it, has me popping more candy into my mouth.
“The list I learned – very recently – was an auction sheet. The original numbers were the starting price. The final numbers, the completed purchase amount. Prior to the files being sealed with an encrypted code, which actually wasn’t that hard to break, a delivery date and location were added.” His expression slowly transposes to one I find unsettling. “And someone in this room already has an invitation to said party.” He redirects his attention to Karry. “And this someone could easily have someone else in this room pretend to be her date without raising any red flags due to their very public on again, off again nature in the press.”
A.D. grumbles inside and out.
“And-”
“No,” I quietly mutter between bites. “No more ands.”
“And,” Griff states louder after cutting me a sly glance, “the event, which takes place tomorrow night, is down at the coast, a distance that is not a far flight for those with working wings.”