22. Marcus

Sweat forms on my brow as I consider the consequences of killing Alvarez. He may have attacked me first, but he had tapped out when I snapped his neck to send the message. It wouldn"t be long before they made it through each interview and found out my involvement.

I hope I didn't fuck this up.

Deacon didn't seem worried, but why would he be? I was only his partner for the first event. Now that we're here, who knows how long this tenuous agreement will remain. After inhaling my food without so much as tasting it, I return to the barracks hoping I can find a few minutes to mind-link with my Alpha to report in and ask about the next steps.

I"m not excited about explaining this to him.

Marcus: Alpha, we have a problem.

Alpha Barton: What kind of problem?

Marcus: They are investigating the death of Parker Alvarez.

Alpha Barton: And why does this affect me?

Marcus: Because I killed him.

Alpha Barton: Stupid boy. What did I tell you about staying below the radar?

Marcus: It was an unfortunate series of events, but I was well within my rights. He attacked me.

Alpha Barton: Did anyone see you kill him?

My mind flashes to Deacon clapping at the sound of Alvarez's demise, and I decide to withhold that little detail.

Marcus: No, we were alone.

Alpha Barton: Then you keep your mouth shut. No one needs to know it was you who was involved.

Marcus: Yes, Alpha.

Alpha Barton: Any other news? Have you met up with the Martin kid?

Marcus: Not yet. They have us sequestered. I will attempt an alliance once we are back in the game.

Alpha Barton: Remember how much is riding on this. I want Nevada. We will need the surrounding packs if we push Northern Nevada's territory.

Marcus: I understand.

I finish our conversation, grinding my teeth at the thought of my Alpha's need for power. It mattered more than his own son, and now I am the ambassador who is supposed to align with packs to give him the upper hand.

Certainly complicates things with my only alliance. Not that my Alpha let me know that the strongest Alpha born in generations was at this training alongside me and that I would need to beat him to help solidify the state under one ruler.

It sounded like a swell idea before I knew who Deacon Marlo was. Before I knew he would be here, before he became my partner, before I trusted him.

Deacon doesn't want to be Alpha. He said so himself.

Shaking my head, I unpacked my bag into the trunk at the end of my bed. The task was mind-numbing and gave me the ability to work through how I would answer the questions they threw at me.

Would Deacon lie for me?

I'd have to hope he does.

Four hours later, they begin calling us into the headquarters tent which acts as our interrogation area. One by one, they pull cadets in what I realize must be alphabetical order. No one returns. Once they are taken inside, a few minutes go by, and then the next is pulled. I try to make eye contact with Deacon in hopes of seeing where his head is at, but he spends the time writing in a notebook on his bed.

At the sound of his name, he tucks the notebook away and saunters out as if he doesn't have a care in the world.

I need this to go away.

Feeling my wolf pacing beneath my skin, I take a few deep breaths and wait for the next name. Ten minutes go by, then twenty, then thirty.

What the fuck is going on in there?

Nerves overtake my good sense, and I begin pacing, knowing he could be sharing everything that transpired. He could tell them I attacked first. He could be sealing my fate.

Fuck.

It's almost forty minutes before the Beta returns and grabs the next cadet. By then, I have clawed through most of my palm, trying to hold my wolf at bay. They had Deacon in that room for far too long for a simple interrogation. He must have told them something.

The next few are back on schedule, and it"s about an hour before they come for me. I wish I had time to shift. So I could run off some of this excess energy. It would have helped me focus, but I still don't know if we're allowed to, and I wasn't risking my spot when I'm already in hot water.

I follow the Beta into headquarters and down the hall on the left. We enter a small conference room with a long rectangular table surrounded by eight high-back chairs. The scarred Alpha sits in a seat at the corner, and two well-dressed men stand discussing something I can't quite hear in the corner.

Damn, they are speaking quietly if my wolf can't pick up the conversation. It"s then that one of the men turns, revealing red irises, and I immediately understand.

They're vampires.

A growl escapes my throat as my wolf takes in the threat.

I've never encountered a vampire before, but from the stories, I know we only began working with them in the last century. Before that, we were in a constant state of war, slowly killing each other off.

The Treaty of Simul allowed us to lean on the other species" unique talents, and we found a balance of power ever since.

If they're here, I have a larger problem.

"Cadet, have a seat," Stickman instructs, pointing to the chair nearest the exit. His hand is wrapped in a white cloth that is stained with blood, and a small cut is crusted on his lip.

What happened to you?

"Good morning, Mr. Stone. My name is Alaric, and this is my associate Alexander. We are here to take your testimony for the LLC's legal team." The man's voice pulls my attention to him. He stands at the corner of the table in a perfectly tailored dove grey suit. His face is pale, and his ashen hair falls to his shoulders. His voice is smooth and has a lilt I can't quite place, but he sounds as if he has traveled in Europe. His presence is cold, but his voice dances with amusement as he continues.

"Alexander is training in a new capacity and will be using his abilities to adjudicate your version of events." He finishes, gesturing to the other man.

While Alaric comes across as calm and professional, Alexander is calculating and gives nothing away. His jet-black inky hair is pulled tightly back into a ponytail, which accents his high cheekbones and otherworldly eyes. Where his partners are red, his carry a lavender hue that intensifies to a dark purple ring. His suit is black on black, which only draws more attention to his eyes.

"What does that mean?" I ask, clearing my throat as I force myself to drag my eyes away from his.

Guess that makes sense how they lure in humans. That man is beautiful, and I'm not even interested in men.

"Don't knock it til you've tried it, little wolf."

The British-infused words are spoken directly into my mind, and I jump at the intrusion. My wolf pushes beneath my skin, eyes flipping up to find the threat.

What the fuck?

Alexander chuckles to himself before he speaks—out loud this time.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Marcus. Adjudication is the process in which I look into your memories to verify your statements are accurate."

How the fuck?

"Do I have a choice?" I ask, my eyes looking between them.

"Not if you would like to stay," Stickman responds, unrestrained joy oozing out of him at the prospect of getting rid of me.

Fuck.

"Do I have to give a statement, or can you just… watch?" This question comes out strained as I fight my wolf for control.

He didn't like the casual intrusion, and I'm not entirely sure he's going to do well with any of this adjudication process, knowing that a vampire will be rooting around in our mind.

Alexander's face shows no reaction to the question or the tone behind it, though he considers the request for a moment before responding.

"I'd prefer not to. Having an idea of the event allows me to focus my search there. Without your conscious relay of the timeline, I would need to access more memory. Most people prefer to avoid that. Now, if you don't mind answering a few questions, we can try to get you out of here." He finishes his statement with a perfunctory smile before grabbing a stack of papers on the table and sitting down in front of it, gesturing for me to take a seat as well.

My eyes land on the chair, and I have to intentionally release the tension I've stored in my muscles the last few hours.

He attacked me. I didn't do anything wrong.

Releasing my breath, I lower myself into the chair and cross my fingers that my wolf cooperates. It's at that moment I realize what must have taken them so long with Deacon.

I almost laugh out loud as my eyes land on Stickman. I guess Deacon's wolf was less than cooperative.

I knew I liked that guy.