32. Quinn

32

QUINN

"All right, rookie, time to run your system diagnostics," I say, eyeing Logan like he's a new piece of software I'm about to beta test. "Let's see if your hardware matches your specs."

I lean against the barricade with my arms crossed, watching Logan intently. The new guy stands a few paces away, his eyes scanning the crowd at the political rally. He has that cocky air about him, but I can see the focus in his eyes and the way he's constantly analyzing everything around him. He's sharp, I'll give him that.

I'm babysitting since I'm usually behind the computer, tracking shit. This way, I can do what I need to do on my iPad and direct him to what he needs to do.

"Don't worry, Logan. We won't bite," I say with a grin. "Unless you're into that sort of thing."

Logan smirks, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "I'll try to keep my kinks to myself, thanks."

"Good to know," I reply, pushing off the barricade. "But seriously, we need to see if you can handle yourself. This isn't just about muscle. It's about strategy, quick thinking, and keeping your cool under pressure."

Logan nods, his expression turning serious. "Understood."

"All right then, let's get started. Dash, you're up," I call out, and Dash bounces over, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced with focused intensity. We have about an hour before the rally starts, so right now, the other teams are letting the crowd in.

The crowd is a powder keg of opposing ideologies. Mayor supporters brandish signs and chant slogans, while protesters push against the barriers, their angry voices rising above the din. The air is thick with tension, like static before a lightning strike.

Dash squares up with Logan, the contrast between them striking. Where Dash is all easy smiles and relaxed muscles, Logan is taut, coiled energy. They circle each other, and then Dash strikes with a quick jab intended more to gauge than to harm.

Logan blocks it with ease, his movements fluid. "Not bad," I call out, "but don't get too comfortable. Dash can be a slippery bastard."

Actually, Dash isn't even the one he needs to watch out for, it's Zane, but I'll keep that to myself.

Dash grins, taking that as his cue to up the ante. He darts in and out, his punches faster and more unpredictable. Logan adapts quickly, his footwork impressive. He isn't just relying on brute strength, he's smart and calculating.

I can't help but be impressed, despite my suspicions. There's something off about Logan, something that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up, but for now, he's proving his worth.

A loud cheer erupts from the crowd, and I glance over to see Mayor Hargrove taking the stage. The mayor is a big target today, and our job is to make sure nothing happens to him. Political rallies can get heated, and with the protesters camped out last night, tensions are high.

The worst part about this is that the guy is a sleaze. I don't like him, and if anything, I'd rather stand with the protesters.

"All right, break it up," I say, clapping my hands. "We have a job to do. Logan, stick close to me. Dash, cover the perimeter."

Dash nods and heads off, melting into the crowd with his usual ease. Logan falls into step beside me, his eyes darting constantly, taking in every detail of our surroundings. The air thrums with tension, a discordant symphony of shouting voices and pounding hearts. The acrid scent of sweat and anger mingles with the metallic taste of adrenaline on my tongue, putting my nerves on high alert.

"Ever done security for a political rally before?" I ask, trying to gauge his experience.

"Not exactly," Logan admits, "but I've handled high-pressure situations."

"Good. Just remember, our job is to keep the mayor safe and the crowd under control. No heroics."

"Understood," Logan says, his tone serious.

We weave through the crowd, keeping a close eye on the mayor and the people around him. Hargrove is in his element, shaking hands and making grand gestures as he speaks. The crowd is a mix of supporters and protesters, and I can see the tension brewing. It's only a matter of time before things get heated.

"What kind of high-pressure situations?" I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.

Logan smiles, giving me a side glance. "Back in my hometown, I thought becoming a firefighter was the best thing I could ever do. Not just for the paycheck, but because I could really help, ya know?"

"Like contributing to your community," I supply.

"Exactly like that." He shoulder bumps me. "So there I was, this young buck training to be a firefighter, and the third month in, we had this massive fire."

"How many alarms?" I wonder, because a fire is no joke.

He waves my question away as though it doesn't matter. "There I was in this house, running through flames to help a little girl, so yeah, I can easily do high-pressure jobs."

Suddenly, a shout rings out, and the crowd surges forward. Logan and I move quickly, positioning ourselves between the mayor and the commotion. A group of protesters is pushing through the barriers, their shouts growing louder.

"Stay calm!" I shout over the noise. "Everyone, back up!"

The stage is separated with a fence, and as they surge forward, the fence wavers.

Logan's beside me, his presence a solid wall of calm in the chaos. He helps push back the crowd, his strength and control evident. For a moment, I almost forget my suspicions. Almost.

The situation escalates quickly. One of the protesters breaks through, charging toward the stage. Logan reacts instantly, intercepting the man and taking him down with a move that's both efficient and controlled. He pins the protester to the ground, his knee pressing into the man's back.

"Got him!" Logan calls out, looking up at me. His eyes are clear and focused, and there is a huge smile on his face, as though he was born to do this.

I nod, moving to help secure the area. More security personnel arrive, and we manage to push the crowd back, restoring some semblance of order. Mayor Hargrove continues his speech, seemingly unfazed by the disruption.

As the rally progresses, I keep one eye on Logan. He's handling himself well, but there's something about the way he moves and always seems to be one step ahead that keeps me on edge.

My earpiece crackles to life. "Quinn, all clear on the stage," Zane's voice comes through. "How's it looking from your end?"

"Copy that," I respond, then turn to Logan. "Come on, we're going to check the van. I need to run a system sweep." This way, I can keep an eye on both the situation and our mysterious new recruit. I feel itchy without my monitors, and since Logan is my problem today, he gets to camp out in the van with me.

Logan's piercing gaze finds mine, and he gives me a brilliant smile. "Sure."

We step to the side and walk along the outside of the fencing. Inside, we pass our guys every three feet. On this side, the protesters jeer at us. It isn't like I blame them. Not really.

They think we are here because we support the mayor. We don't. Maybe we should look into denying those contracts, but at the time we signed on, we weren't really sure what we were getting into.

Now we know, and we won't do it again.

As we step onto the sidewalk with the hot sun overhead, I unlock the van, feeling the tension immediately drain from my shoulders.

"Oh, hell yeah." Logan whistles as he takes in my setup. "This is…"

"My baby." I climb in, plop into my seat, and turn back to Logan. "Come on in. It's tight but not too bad."

"I'm a big dude." He laughs at the tight space. He is big. "There's no way I'm fitting in there."

"Take the passenger seat," I tell him. "Malachi and Zane don't fit back here either."

"It's like a little nest." He ribs me as he slides into the passenger seat. I can't tell if he is joking or making fun of me.

Instead of saying anything, I turn around, slam the door shut, and put my headset on.

"So is this what you do?" he asks. "You're the tech guy?"

"Yeah, I guess that's me." I flip all my monitors on. Zane, Dash, and Malachi all have cameras attached to their vests. It allows my algorithm to pick up on things that we might miss otherwise.

"I suppose every pack has one." He leans back in his seat and closes his eyes. It's kind of annoying, but I don't really have anything for him to actually do. "So Zane is the brooding one, Dash is the golden retriever, and Malachi is in charge, while you are the techy." He hums under his breath.

What the hell is he getting at?

"What do I bring to the table?" he whispers under his breath, making me pause.

"What do you mean?"

He sits up and shifts. "I mean, what do I bring to the table?"

"Well, we are waiting for your background?—"

"Not to the security company." His blue eyes seem to pierce right through me, and a weird feeling comes over me. "The pack."

My stomach twists and turns. Trusting my algorithm, I slide my headset off and turn to him. "You want to join our pack?"

He swallows and looks slightly uncomfortable. "I mean, yeah, I thought…" He shakes his head and laughs at himself. "Never mind."

"No, what?" My curiosity gets the better of me.

"Well," Logan starts, his voice casual but his eyes sharp, "I like you guys. Been looking to join a pack for a while." He leans in slightly, his scent spiking with an emotion I can't quite place. "You know how it is, right? A lone wolf in a world of packs?" There's something in his tone that makes my fingers twitch over my keyboard.

"Have you tried Pack Pulse?" Even as I ask the question, I know how he feels about it in the way his face tightens.

It's the same way I feel.

It's like joining a dating site for friendships only. You get the most desperate of people, and you always discover why they have no pack or friends, and it's usually because they just aren't good people.

"Yeah, that's a stupid question," I say.

"I mean, would you consider it?" he asks, his eyes hopeful.

I keep the pack bond tight but let out a little of my emotions and thoughts to the others to see how they feel.

Zane sends absolute hostility, Dash is curious, and Malachi is skeptical, which I get.

"I don't know, man. We've been a pack for a while," I hedge.

"Do you have an omega?" he asks, sounding as though the question pops from him like a shook soda can.

We do. Kind of. I mean, we have Aria, and no one knows she is an omega but me. "No."

I lie easily. I thought it would be hard, but keeping her safe comes easy to me.

"All right, so court me." He gives me a goofy grin. "You know, get to know me." He snaps his fingers. "Doesn't Dash have a gig tonight? We can start there."

Something uneasy shifts in my gut, like when my system flags a potential security breach. I can't pinpoint the exact threat, but every instinct screams that I need to keep Aria as far from Logan as possible. The urge to protect her wars with my need to maintain our cover.

I also can't tell him not to go to a public place.

"All right, come with us, bring up your thoughts to the pack, and see what they say."

"That's all I'm asking for, man. Thanks." He seems genuine, but there's a wild look in his gaze.

I don't get to analyze it too much, because Zane opens the passenger door. "Get the fuck out. Let's go."

"Yes, sir." Logan pops up and gets out, but then he looks back in. "See you later, Quinn."

"Yeah," I mumble, and then he's shutting the door.

Pulling out my phone, I shoot off a text to Cayenne.

Quinn: Hey, did that background check on Logan Pierce come through yet?

Cayenne: Not yet. All okay?

Quinn: He wants to join the pack.

Cayenne: No.

Snorting, I put my phone away and focus on the screens. I make it two seconds before pulling my phone out and creating a group message between the pack and Aria.

I name it Clarke pack, because yes, I'm being presumptuous about Aria accepting us as an omega.

Quinn: Hey, everyone, just a reminder about the gig tonight at eight! Who's excited?

Aria: I can't wait to head there after work with Willow! We're going to be the loudest fans in the crowd! I plan to lose my voice and need hot cocoa.

Zane: First round of drinks is on Dash.

Dash: What? Fine. Totally pumped! Ready to bring the house down and have some fun. Let's make it a night to remember!

Malachi: I'll get the first round.

Quinn: Aria, I want the first dance of the night with you.

Aria: I brought my dancing shoes. Good luck keeping up with me.

Zane: I'll watch.

Dash: No fair, I want to dance.

Aria: I'll need a lap to rest in.

Dash: I volunteer as tribute.

Malachi: No. You will be on stage.

Quinn: My lap.

Zane: Get back to work.

I put the phone away and get to it, focusing on the computers and feeling a little less unsettled.

After the rally, Logan saunters back to the van, where I wait for all of the others with the doors open. Logan's wiping sweat from his brow as he makes his way over, his expression unreadable.

"Nice work out there," I say, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Thanks," he replies, his tone casual. "It's all part of the job, right?"

"Right," I say slowly. "But you handled that protester like a pro. Where'd you learn to move like that?"

Logan shrugs. "Experience. You pick up a few tricks along the way."

Before I can press further, my radio crackles to life. "Quinn, we have a situation at the east entrance." It's one of the other alpha teams. Usually, Malachi takes care of this shit, but he's speaking to the mayor.

Damn, we are supposed to be ending this. It's almost five, and I want to shower before the show, which is looking less and less likely to happen.

"On my way," I respond, turning to Logan. "Stay here and keep an eye on the mayor. I'll be back soon."

Logan nods, and I head off, weaving through the crowd toward the east entrance. As I approach, I see a group of people arguing, their voices rising in anger. A few uniformed officers are trying to keep things under control, but it's clear they are struggling.

"All right, what's going on here?" I ask, stepping into the fray.

Damn, I wish Malachi was taking care of this.

One of the officers turns to me, relief evident on his face. "This group is trying to get through the barricade. They say they have a right to be here, but we have orders to keep this area clear."

I size up the situation quickly. The group is a mix of young and old, their signs and banners indicating they are here to protest Hargrove's policies. I recognize a few faces from previous rallies—people who are passionate but not usually violent.

"Everyone, calm down," I say, raising my hands. "We need to keep this area clear for safety reasons. You can protest, but you need to do it from the designated areas."

Besides, the damn rally is over. What do they plan to do here now?

A woman steps forward, her face flushed with anger. "We have a right to be heard! The mayor needs to see us!"

Ah, so they thought they'd go after him after the rally.

"You have the right to protest," I agree, keeping my voice steady, "but we have to follow the rules. Let's move back to the designated area and continue this peacefully."

There's grumbling, but the group slowly starts to move back. I keep an eye on them, making sure they aren't planning anything else. Once things are under control, I turn back toward the stage, my mind still on Logan and the strange feeling I can't shake.

When I return to the van, Logan is exactly where I left him, his eyes scanning the crowd. He looks up as I approach, and I see a flicker of something in his expression. Relief, maybe? Or is it something else?

"Everything okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, just a minor issue," I reply. "You handle things here all right?"

"No problems," he says, his tone even.

I analyze Logan like a complex line of code, searching for the bug that's causing my system to glitch. He's encrypted himself well, I'll give him that, but there's an anomaly in his algorithm that I can't quite decode. Until I figure out what it is, I'm keeping a close eye on him.

As the crowd begins to disperse, Malachi's voice booms over everyone. "Let's get the fuck out of here. We can debrief tomorrow morning."

A chorus of, "Thanks," spreads through us. At least the rally didn't go sideways.

Everyone heads back to the van, the tension from the day still buzzing in my veins. My mind whirs like a hard drive, processing and reprocessing the data from today's events. I create mental flowcharts and decision trees, trying to map out the variables that make up the enigma called Logan. But no matter how I arrange the information, there's always an error in the output. He's proven himself capable, but my gut tells me there's more to his story.

"Q, can we head straight for the venue? I don't want to miss sound check," Dash asks as he climbs into the van.

"Only if there are showers there," I grumble, wiping sweat from my brow.

"Whole suite," Dash answers.

"I fucking need it." Zane slumps in the passenger seat. "What the hell did I feel through the bond about Logan?"

I groan. "About that…"