Alex was almost second-guessing his decision to hold an all-hands meeting, including the humans, to announce his revised plan on the raid. Everyone sat around the living room, pretending to eat breakfast when they were really chewing on their palpable fears and digesting his words. They were also looking at him as if his brain was oozing out of his ears, which was possible, given that it felt as if it had been shredded. As he’d laid out his thinking, it had certainly sounded as if he’d lost his grip on reality. But he wasn’t going to take it back, because he’d promised Quinn, and the boy had been right. Damn it all. Quinn was the only one not surprised by any of this, and he sat pressed against Alex’s side, his hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze of support.
It was Malcolm who spoke first, giving words to the others’ thoughts, no doubt. “Are you out of your fucking mind, mun?”
“Language,” Will rebuked, as Annika was with them, feeding her dog bits of bacon and acting as if she were oblivious to the bomb Alex had lobbed into the room. It was probably because she wasn’t surprised. He was beginning to suspect that the Queen knew far more than she let on.
Emil was kinder. “We should have discussed this in your office first, Alex.”
What he really meant was that the other men would have liked the opportunity to change his mind before their boys became privy to it. Fuck that. This wasn’t a democracy and they didn’t have the luxury of endless discussion. They had to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. That was assuming, of course, that Merlin sent them useful information soon. If not, they knew where they were headed and would have to assume certain security measures and be prepared to counteract them. Any man here who could convince his lover to stay behind was welcome to try.
The cop, Jefferson, was the one to lay that suggestion to rest. “No general ever cleared his plans with me.” When annoyed eyes turned his way, he shrugged. “I’m just saying you’re focused on the wrong thing. My question is how confident are you all that leaving the less-experienced combatants with the helos you plan to fly in will be effective. And I’m asking you boys, too. Can you handle it? Because if not, you’ll be a liability—and I know you don’t want that.”
“I can’t go, obviously,” Mackie chimed in, proving how much he’d matured in a short period of time. With his hand on his growing belly, he added, “I’m not in any condition to be useful in a fight. It kills me to admit that.”
Val hugged him closer. “Thanks, baby. You don’t know how important it is to me that you stay safe.”
Mackie twisted his neck to look fully at his husband. “You’re wrong. I know exactly how important it is. That’s why I’m not making a fuss about it.”
Trey cleared his throat. “Look… We all know who has to stay and who is electing to go for good reasons. This is really about Jase, Brenin and Damien. It seems to me that’s a discussion for Emil, Malcolm and Will to have with their boys.”
Malcolm jumped to his feet and held his hand out to Brenin. “Duncan makes an excellent point. Let’s have ours right now, laddie.”
Brenin ignored the hand. “There’s no point. I’m going. It’s a waste of your time to try to convince me otherwise.”
A terrible look passed across Malcolm’s face, one of horror and misery. He sat back beside Brenin and pitched his voice low. Even the humans could likely still hear it, however. “Och, Brenin, my love, you’re only getting past what happened to you. I cannae bear the idea of your putting yourself under that stress.”
The boy took hold of Malcolm’s arm. “It’s precisely because of what happened to me that I want in on this. I need to feel like I’ve contributed to his downfall.”
There was no need to elaborate who he meant with ‘his’.
Brenin added, “Sergeant Jefferson asked a sensible question and my answer is yes. Yes, I’m confident I can help guard the helicopters.”
“That puts two of us on guard-duty for each,” Jase said in his usual quiet voice, and if that biddable boy was taking a stand, it was a done deal for all of them. Emil didn’t utter a word in protest. He merely pulled his lover in for a quick kiss.
“I can also fly one if necessary,” Damien chimed in. He flashed a smile at Willem. “I’ve had an excellent instructor, and I’m sure he’d agree that I have the skill. Just don’t make it necessary for me to use it,” he admonished with a glare at his man. “I expect you and Christos to make it back to fly us home.”
Will put his face in his hands. “Fuck me.”
“Excuse me.” Everyone turned in Alun’s direction. The timid man was sitting near Jefferson. He looked almost serene as he spoke, a strange turn of events, which had to mean the human’s attention was good for him. “There will be a fifth man. Me,” he clarified, as if his meaning hadn’t been clear. “I suppose I can act as a floater.”
It was on the tip of Alex’s tongue to argue the point. Really, the idea of this sweet, broken man going on the mission—his son’s involvement notwithstanding—seemed even more ridiculous than Quinn or any of the other more fully human boys doing so. Jefferson caught his eye before he got anything out. With a quick shake of his head, the man conveyed his thoughts on the idea of Alex saying no—or at least that was his take on the gesture. And really, if Jefferson was willing to take on that responsibility, what difference did it make to Alex or the others?
“I want to be part of the assault, but I understand I would be a burden more than anything else. I still want to be close by when my son is rescued.”
“And so you shall.” Jefferson smiled indulgently at the man. It reminded Alex of his own interactions with Quinn. That was that.
“Speaking of Merlin,” Val interjected, “I had an email message from him on my secure account. I must confess that I’m surprised he managed it.”
“Oh, I’m not, Mr. Val,” Annika offered cheerfully. “I had every confidence in his succeeding.”
Alex smiled at her. “Of course you did.” To Val, he practically growled, “Why are telling us only now?”
“Because it came in around five this morning. I picked it up right before we came down for breakfast. I was going to lead with it once we all had our food, but someone—and I’m not pointing any fingers here—dropped a fucking H-bomb into the room before I had a chance.”
Alex bared his teeth, mindful that they were all on edge. “Well, the fallout has dissipated now. What’s the good word?”
“The kid has sent exact coordinates of where they are, which we already had. He has also included a schematic of the lair, complete with the locations of the security cameras around the perimeter. And,” he breathed out, “he says everyone is hanging on in there.”
Christos let out a grunt. “Thank fuck.”
“Madre de Dios, gracias.” Paz, who had remained quiet during all of the planning he’d attended, bowed his head. A shudder ran through him. Lucien went over and put his arms around the man.
“He’s given a head count of twenty-five mercenaries, plus Dracul is there with Petru’s former changeling.”