Chapter Nineteen

Pax understood how Storm felt. For most of his life, Pax had taken the path of least resistance, often preferring to bury his head in the sand, or in the nearest pair of trousers, rather than confront the shit show his life seemed to be sometimes. Storm's idea, albeit through Python, was a good one. Pax would've probably been perfectly happy exploring that idea further except…he genuinely believed that Cyrus and his friends must've got their wires crossed.

There was no way a bunch of smelly crocodile shifters from Florida would even know about his existence or his uncle's. His uncle lived in some fancy house in New York which was miles and miles away from Montana or Florida. Which meant – and this idea was the one that caused Pax to release his mate from his magic and go with Storm over to Cyrus's workshop – it was his mate who was in danger from his family's proximity, not him. All Pax had to do was convince Cyrus of that, because clearly that was the man everyone else listened to.

Cyrus's apartment was nice, situated above the workshop, although Pax preferred Storm's house. But the couch was comfortable, and Cyrus handed Pax a box of donuts without Pax even having to ask.

"I'm sorry if you think we're being nosy," he said with a warm smile, "but it would be seriously helpful to know more about your family."

"Sweetening me up with donuts is a good start, but there's not a lot I can tell you about my family." Pax quickly bit into one of the donuts, his arm resting over the box in case Cyrus got any ideas about taking it away, or in case Storm decided to filch any.

Swallowing, he added, "My parents are dead. If I had any siblings, I never heard about it. There're only me and my uncle. I've never met another extended family member and when other pixies came to visit I was always told to stay in my room – well, when I was still living with him, obviously. I was always told my lack of wings made me defective, so I was never allowed to meet any of uncle's friends."

Cyrus and Python shared one of those looks that indicated they didn't believe him, but it was Storm who asked, "Where did you and your uncle live when you were growing up?"

"Oh, good point. I meant to tell you about that." Momentarily derailed by Gwen's expertise in the bakery, Pax forced his mind on track. "See, this is why there's no way my uncle could've got Storm's family to put a hit on me. He lives in New York. The crocodiles live in Florida. See." He spread his hands. "There's no way they could ever meet up, and even if they did, my uncle is not the type to sit and drink with biker shifters. No, if my uncle did arrange someone to kill me, then it would be more likely another assassin like you guys, but the bad variety. I'm not saying any of you guys would kill an innocent. That's me, the innocent," he added to Storm. "You know the bad assassins that smoke those smelly cigars that cost a fortune and wear all black clothing, lurking in dark alleys just waiting for cute little old me to walk by."

"My cigars aren't smelly, and I've never lurked in an alley in my life," Python protested when Storm and Cyrus laughed.

"I didn't mean you," Pax said quickly. "I meant…you know what, forget what I meant." Clearly he had to tread carefully with what he said about assassins. "What I can tell you is that my uncle would not consort with people that wore scruffy leather." There. Surely that didn't apply to Storm and his friends.

"When people contract an assassin to kill a family member, they don't usually meet up with the person doing the job. The deal is usually done online, from arranging to have the hit done, when and where, and the funds for the job are all transferred electronically." Cyrus probably thought he was being helpful, but Pax shook his head.

"My uncle wouldn't trust a system like that. He thinks everyone is a crook who's out to steal from him. I mean, how does the person paying the money know the job is done, and how does the killer know they've got the right person? What if I had a twin or were one of triplets? Then the killer might get the wrong person. My uncle would want to meet the person and talk to them face-to-face. He said he has a knack of telling a man's character from first sight." Pax sighed. "Not that I ever saw any evidence of that either."

"Who is your uncle?" Python asked. "We couldn't even find out your family name, because there's no record of you anywhere. What's his family name?"

"I only ever called him uncle." Pax scratched his chin. "He was Uncle Humphrey, but I suppose his friends wouldn't have called him that. He had a title – something like Lord Montague Smurf or something equally ridiculous. It was French sounding, and he only used his title when he wanted to try and impress people. But it was only a pixie title, so it didn't really mean a lot in the normal world."

"Babe, what's the name on your ID? You know, the name you used for the lease on your apartment, getting the utilities connected and things like that." Storm's arm was over Pax's shoulder, which meant his hand was getting very close to Pax's donut box.

"Beaumont. Pax Beaumont, but that name's as real as Storm is for you, or likely Python's is to him. I just picked it because I thought it had a solid ring to it." Pax beamed up at his mate. "Keep your fingers away from my donuts."

Turning back to Cyrus and Python, he said, "As for my apartment and utilities, my uncle arranged all that for me. I used to have an apartment in New York, but my uncle must have gotten annoyed with me about something. I never found out what it was, but one day I'm sleeping in, and then bam, there's a moving van at my door and a guy with a plane ticket, telling me I was getting relocated and to get my ass to Bozeman. So I did."

Cyrus and Python exchanged one of their looks again, and this time they included Storm.

"What? What is it?" Pax didn't like feeling excluded or as if there was something going on he was oblivious to. "Look. Can't you see that I'm not the one in danger here. It's Storm we should be worrying about. If my uncle was going to hire thugs from Florida to do away with me, then wouldn't it be cheaper for him to move me closer to them, instead of farther away? My uncle doesn't like spending money on anything but himself. New York is closer to Florida than Bozeman is, isn't it?"

"Did you ask your uncle why he moved you to Bozeman?" Cyrus asked.

"There wasn't any point. He wouldn't have told me anyway. Chances are the apartment he got me into in Bozeman was cheaper. I used to hear people complaining all the time how New York rents were expensive. But now you can see there is no way I'm the one in danger here, can we concentrate on what we're going to do about those rogue crocodiles in Bozeman? They need to go back to Florida and stay there."

That deserved another donut, at least in Pax's opinion, but when he opened the box, there were three missing, not just the one he'd eaten. How did he do that?

He glared at Storm, who quickly licked his lips.

"If I catch just a hint of sweetness on those lips of yours, you won't be getting any sugar from me," he warned. "You do not get between a pixie and his sweet treats." Clearly he was going to have to pay more attention to his mate with his wandering fingers, but it seemed Cyrus wasn't going to let that happen.

"Pax, is this your uncle?" Cyrus handed over a piece of printer paper.

"Yep." Pax peered at the picture a bit closer and then laughed. "He won't be happy with who ever took that shot. It's not showing his best side. Appearances are everything to my uncle."

"We have more pictures of him." Cyrus handed him three more pieces of paper. In the new pictures, Pax's uncle wasn't on his own.

"Who's that?" He pointed to a rough looking man with slicked back gray hair.

"Razor. My father." Storm bit the words out as if they pained him.

"So they have met?" Pax scanned the surroundings. "The pictures were taken in Bozeman… I recognize the sign right there. But… but…no. This isn't right." He tapped the date at the bottom of the picture. "That Bullet brother of yours who couldn't ride a bike properly said he and your dad were only in Bozeman for a few days before heading back to Florida, and that was in the past week. This picture was taken the same day my uncle said he was coming to see me over a month ago. Why didn't he come and see me if he was in the area anyway?"

Pax felt as though the answer was right there, as clear as the nose on his face, but he couldn't quite get it.

"Babe, you said you waited for your uncle when he said he was coming on your birthday. What did you do when he didn't turn up?" Storm was talking to him as though he should be able to see whatever it was he was missing.

"I went out. And okay, I might not have waited very long because clearly I have an issue with knowing how much time has passed." Pax flicked a look at a smiling Python. "I'm not good at waiting around with nothing to do. And it was my birthday. You tell me what was the point of hanging around if my uncle wasn't going to turn up."

Pax really wasn't sure why all of a sudden he was being smothered by one of Storm's hugs. It wasn't that he was complaining, but he was really tired of being the only one who didn't know what was going on.