12. Chapter Twelve

Istood in my office, watching out the window as Heath, Dirk, and several men I didn't know, talked about the little trail that went to my house. Heath was moving a pointed finger along the edge of the parking lot, right at the tree line, saying something.

"We can…along here…barbed wire. Country…gate…"

I could only really hear bits and pieces when his voice went a little louder, and the wind outside died down. It wasn't a blustery day, but there was just enough to mess with my acute sense of hearing. I knew what he was telling them, though. They were the fastest plans we had ever thrown together since we met. Kick Shot had been a slower rebuild, getting the details perfect because it was a place of business.

This was a needed security blanket, so I could feel safe in my own house. The physical look of the design didn't matter, only the practicality.

There would be a new barbed wire fence woven through my trees as a clear line people couldn't cross. Cameras and microphones would be tucked around the woods, carefully wired to a power source in my house. I would lose the trail and get a real driveway, with a country-style gate, something you would see on a farm. It suited the area more than a high-level mansion gate, and I didn't want to stand out too much. I would park my car at home for its security, so I could see it. Motion detectors would tell me when someone was walking or driving down the driveway toward me. The gate would open automatically for people with a certain type of receiver. It was all very fancy, high-tech stuff. Heath had said it was this or magic, and since I was a werecat and so sensitive to magic in my territory, he figured I would like tech better.

He wasn't completely wrong. I would have preferred never having either.

We don't always get what we want, and I have to address what I need.

I was losing a lot of what I loved about my little corner of the world, but I was a werecat. I could adapt to physical changes in my world.

What I couldn't deal with was the violation of my territory and feeling unsafe in it. It wasn't just that I was a woman recorded on tape. This had tapped into something primal, a fear of any of my species. The territory we claimed was our kingdom, the place where we were the dominant power. When someone drew close to the center, our home, the place we laid our solitary heads, the more likely we were to kill those people.

I had fought that instinct, playing safe when I knew people were walking around my woods. I was paying for it now, with the ever-present sick feeling I couldn't go home because it wasn't safe and the idea I would never feel so comfortable again. I knew I had done it to myself.

That was why I let those men change something so vital to me.

I could tolerate the driveway, the barbed wire fencing, and the technology that ruined my pristine forest, but I couldn't tolerate the feeling that felt like a slow rot.

I couldn't watch anymore, turning to check the time on my monitor, its blue glow cold comfort. At least my computer was clean. They weren't going to get me through it.

"One hour," I whispered. "I have one hour." With a shaky inhale, I knew the second meeting was going to be just as hard as the first. Looking down at myself, I was proud for just a moment. I had made it home for a simple shower, with Heath, Landon, and Dirk all hovering in my house—a silent guard. They weren't just there to protect my privacy, but to make sure I didn't lose control like I did in Heath's house.

Once the shower was over, I put on a crisp suit and hunkered down in my office. Landon went to be with Carey while Heath and Dirk worked with the guys Heath had called the day before, once we were settled on what I wanted for security.

I sat down and sighed, but even as I tried to relax, I was ever vigilant. I could hear them still talking, then trucks revved, and some drove away. The back door opened and closed, then footsteps on the back staircase. I could hear their conversation as they headed to my office.

"Do you know what my kind calls your…dad?" Heath asked, unsure about Niko's title for Dirk.

"The Traitor, right? I had heard some use it against him." Dirk shrugged.

"Yeah. He's interesting, though. One of my favorites from Jacky's family."

"He's not bad." Dirk was about as evasive as he always was when Niko was brought up.

I let my mind trail off, considering Niko for a moment. The Traitor was Niko's unofficial title in the same way people called Zuri the Politician and Hisao the Assassin. He was the Traitor, not because he betrayed his werecat family, though. He'd been born to werewolves, and his family didn't want to get involved in the War raging at the time. They had been slaughtered. Hasan rescued Niko, finished raising him, and Niko decided to join the werecats instead. He'd "betrayed" the species he had been born to. He was a traitor to many werewolves old enough to remember, and others used the name just because they had heard it before.

It was an interesting story, but I knew the quiet man who had lived through it. Dirk said it right—Niko was pretty much always an outsider. I had a rocky start coming into the family, but from everything I knew, Niko's was worse, thanks to the circumstances of the time.

As they walked into my office, I looked up and smiled at the two men.

At least I have the support here. My family will catch up. They always do.

"They'll begin work tomorrow," Heath declared. "I was up all night, drawing out the designs, and they got the final measurements needed through today. The driveway and gate will come first. The barbed wire fence will have to be done without a design plan because we don't want to cut down any trees. They'll have to go in and see what they can do. I'm calling the techs from my company tomorrow to talk about how we're going to wire in cameras and mics. It's do-able, but it'll be hard."

"How much is this going to cost me?" I asked, leaning onto my desk.

"I think you might want to ask Hasan to cover it," Heath said carefully. "At least the technical portion. The driveway and fencing are pretty cheap, all things considered."

"Seriously, Heath. How much?" I asked again. I couldn't ask Hasan for help right now. Well, I could, but I didn't want to. I brought this on my family, and I would eat the costs. I would do everything I could to keep them from getting more involved than they already were.

"The driveway and fence will be close to $50,000. The technical side will probably run close to a million out of pocket. They're going to be breaking out some high-end, possibly prototype stuff for you, especially when you tell them what was used to watch you."

"Those are already in the mail to my brother, so I hope you aren't thinking about giving them what the BSA developed," I said, sighing.

"No, no. And those weren't developed by the BSA. They were developed by the CIA. Werewolves, however, already told both organizations if we get our hands on it, it's ours. They should be more careful with their equipment. Finders keepers." He gave me a wolfy smile, all teeth and definitely not nice. "I've broken down a number of their pieces with my own hands after finding them in my offices and in my backyards when I was an Alpha. They know better."

"Didn't it bother you to be spied on?" Dirk was hovering by the door, so I pointed at a chair. "Sit down. You probably need to hear all of this."

He fell into a chair as Heath casually strolled around the desk and leaned over me.

"It bothered me," he confirmed, kissing my cheek. "But I was already outed. I was more upset when Carey was young. I threatened the agents I knew in Dallas that if I found another camera in my backyard where she played, I would break their legs, so they couldn't run on the next full moon. I would let my pack show them werewolves could, in fact, eat people, and some of them learned to enjoy the act. My daughter was off-limits to the spying. All the children were, no matter the species. If they wanted to see any of them, they had channels to do that. I would have killed them if there was video similar to yours for any young werewolf."

"Would you have really eaten them?" I asked softly, looking up slowly. Heath never, even at his most fearsome, struck me as a man-eating type.

"I do what I have to," he answered enigmatically, pulling away. He fixed his button-down, making sure it was properly tucked in. Gone were the casual jeans and tight-fitting shirts. Today, he was in the business slacks that reminded me of the day I met him. This was business Heath or more aptly, Alpha Heath. He'd dropped this image over the two-plus years he'd been in my territory, but today it was back.

"I should go before they get here," he declared. "They'll be early to throw you off your game. They're going to come in hard and fast with demands and questions, trying to put you off-balance. Hold your ground and make your needs and demands clear. If you press your side, they'll be forced to listen. They'll railroad you into a bad deal if they can. The BSA isn't out to hurt supernaturals, but to better understand us and how we can be useful to the United States. They want to know how we can be used and controlled. Don't give them an inch. Their goals are important enough, they'll listen once they realize you're not going to back down."

"Thank you," I whispered. "Dirk, go with him. Heath, can you keep…" I waved a hand at Dirk. I was already a bit frazzled by my upcoming meeting. Heath's purposefully focused advice only made me more worried. We had already talked about how he couldn't, under any circumstances, get involved.

"By the time everything is done, he'll be ready to manage it. Promise." Heath smiled and thumped Dirk's shoulder. "Let's go and give her some time to breathe before this happens."

"Boss?" Dirk watched me. "Do you want me to go? I can stay and get whatever you need during the meeting. It'll be fine."

"Kick Shot is closed for the night. I have a plan, one I can do on my own. Go with Heath. I'll text or call to check in once it's done."

"You might need back up," he retorted.

"You seem awfully helpful for a nephew who doesn't want to be too involved in the family," I said with a smile. "Go be helpful by learning more from Heath."

He looked between me and Heath, then got up. They both waved before Heath closed me back in my office. I sat in the quiet and listened as their trucks pulled away, tracking Heath as he drove toward his home. After a moment, I stood up.

I had a plan, and I needed to be in the right position for it.

I went down to the main floor, going behind the bar without pausing. There were a couple of cars in the driveway, but I had the Closed sign lit up, and there was a small sign posted out front saying I needed the space for a private event on short notice. There would be a sale on Friday for those that were unhappy about it. That had been Oliver's idea when I told him I wanted to keep Kick Shot closed for the night.

I rearranged bottles, placing everything I used the most where it had once been. I wanted to be comfortable but hadn't wanted Dirk to see me doing this to his precious set up.

Not that he's ever going to get back to it.

Once I was done, I turned and grabbed a glass, making myself a drink to calm my nerves and give me something to sip on, but not the type of drink I was worried about losing my wits. I fully intended on loosening up the agents, though, and having a drink myself could make them more comfortable to indulge.

They wanted to come for me, a bartender. I'll show them what a bartender can do.