by Anya Nowlan
She couldn’t help but snort a little, getting a look for it from Prowler.
“Sorry. It’s sort of odd to see you so riled up about something like that, while both of us have spent a good third of our lives hunting down people who are far worse, and sometimes being them, too.”
“I don’t see it like that,” he said solemnly.
“So how do you see it, then?” Amy asked, legitimately curious to know how his mind worked.
“The people we chase and kill are fanatics, in a way. And I admit, I am one as well. To me, there’s a difference between mass destruction and targeting someone who can’t defend themselves and going after them. You know, kids, women, animals… makes no sense to me. People who do that are the lowest common denominator and I have no remorse for them.”
Amy narrowed her eyes for a moment, considering the man before her. There were stories told about Shifter Squad Nine, The Firm’s very own Suicide Squad. How most of them had dishonorable discharges in their past, or something very close to that simply because their superiors feared them. How entire areas would be decimated if Shifter Squad Nine went over them. How they left a trail of bodies in their wake wherever they went.
And here she was, watching one of them get legitimately angry at the thought of innocent people getting hurt. It sort of tossed her understanding of them right on its head, even if Amy hadn’t entirely believed everything she’d been told. She knew Dice from way back when and at least he wasn’t insane.
Clearly, the Renard twins weren’t either. She had to wonder how much of what she had heard was truth and how much fiction.
“Okay. So you tell me now. Why did you get into the military?”
It seemed like the easiest thing to ask to cut the tension in the room.
“That’s an easy one. Price and I broke into a liquor store for the fifth time, and for the first time, we got caught. Unfortunately for us, though, it wasn’t the first thing we’d gotten picked up for. So the judge took one look at us, me all tatted up and Price literally snarling at him, and told us that it was either juvenile incarceration or the military. We picked guns and mayhem.”
“Easy choice,” Amy said, nodding. “But why were you acting out to begin with, when you were kids?”
That one didn’t seem quite as easy to answer. Prowler seemed to mull over the question for a moment, swishing the tea in his cup quietly. It gave Amy a chance to study his facial features without the haze of tequila that had been there the last time she’d had more than a couple of minutes with him.
He really was a handsome man, even – or maybe because of – the tattoos that were creeping up his neck and running behind his ears. Those high cheekbones and strong chin spoke of excellent genetics, not to mention that it made him easy to look at.
“We were foster kids, me and Price. We don’t share this much, you know. Our pack got torn apart by pack wars and our parents died pretty early. Our aunt’s family raised us for a while but they couldn’t handle it at one point. From there on, we were mostly in normie families – non-shifters. Alpha werewolf twins really shouldn’t be around anyone during the years where they’re… well, dumb enough still to use their strength and skills against people who might not deserve it.”
“So you’re saying you got moved from family to family for a reason, after a while?”
“I am,” Prowler confirmed, nodding his head. “We set a few fires, we scared a few people… stole a bunch of stuff. It got worse the older we got, until no one could really control us. In that sense, the military was the best thing that could have happened to us.”
“Only in a way?” Amy questioned, cocking her head to the side.
“It also trained us to kill,” Prowler said coolly, taking another sip of his tea. “I’m not entirely sure how good of an idea that was, all things considered.”
“As long as you use your skills for good… we’re all on this earth for something, right?” Amy countered, mouthing the words she’d used to get herself through some of the iffier missions, where she’d really had to question whether what she was doing was right.
“Are you sure we’re the good guys, though?” Prowler asked, leaning further back. “I can bet that The Arctics and every man you’ve ever killed has been convinced that they were on the right side, too.”
“If you want to look at it that way, sure. I mean, The Firm definitely has some problems with its moral compass, I’ll give you that. But so far, every mission I’ve run, every guy I’ve come in contact with over them, I’ve thought the world to be a better place without them. I’m sure they think the same about me, but I’ve won for now.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Prowler said, smirking slightly. “Though I wish there was another way to do it all. It feels so endless… kill or be killed. Guys like me, we don’t really have another option.”
“Why not?” Amy asked before she could bite her tongue.
It was obviously a topic that gave Prowler pause and the last thing she wanted was to bring up something painful for him. Yet she was curious to know as much as she could about the father of her future children.
“Because if I got out of The Firm, I might just end up somewhere where I’d be on the other side of you. And trust me, I’d be just as good at telling myself that I was doing the right thing when I killed you. So I stay with the morally ambiguous world of The Firm and hope for the best.”
“I think you don’t give yourself enough credit, Prowler,” Amy said softly.
“How come?” he asked, setting the cup down on the desk now and leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.
Being showered with the full scope of his attention was sort of dizzying in a way. It made her throat go dry, which she was beginning to get sick of, and her skin pimple with goosebumps.
“Well, I think you’re better than that. You clearly know right from wrong, there isn’t a question about that. And I’ve seen your file. I know the stuff you’ve done. Frankly, I think a lot of men would have done the same had they gone through what you and Price did during that mission. I know I would have. The difference between you and I is that I would have gotten myself killed, though.”
“Really now?” Prowler chuckled. “Because I’ve seen your file as well and I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’re one of the three female leads in The Firm to begin with, and the only human one. Don’t you think that says something?”
“Well, aren’t we just a couple of self-doubting idiots then?” Amy laughed. “Careful, we keep flattering one another like that and it might just go to our heads.”
“You have other thoughts on how we could be spending our time, then?” he asked, a dangerous, sexy edge entering his voice.
Amy had bitten down on her lower lip before she even registered that she was going to do it. In a flash, Prowler was up on his feet and scooping her out of the chair. She gasped as he tipped her chin upwards, his strong arms tight around her body, and looked into her eyes with his piercing greens.
“Because I have a few ideas, if you’ll entertain them.”
Amy stuttered something that definitely wasn’t anywhere near articulate. Prowler met it with a grin, slowly moving closer to her lips. She closed her eyes, craning her neck as her hands rested on his chest, waiting for the kiss that seemed inevitable.
You were supposed to keep clear of them! You were supposed to not get tangled any deeper while there was a mission to see through!
The objections couldn’t have been feebler in her head.
Just when Prowler was only half an inch from kissing her, something buzzed in the other room. Amy gasped, surprise and disappointment coming together as she felt his grip on her lighten. The long sigh that went through him seemed to be echoed in Amy as she felt his chest rise and fall.
Ruefully, he looked down at her and then pecked her forehead with a light kiss.
“Duty calls,” he said, and Amy disentangled herself from his arms awkwardly.
“Right. Work to do.”
&nb
sp; The way he stomped into the office as Amy gathered her flustered self made her smile privately, though. Apparently she wasn’t the only one disappointed about the distraction.
Thirteen
Price
“I still maintain that this is thoroughly and by far the most ridiculous mission I’ve ever been on,” Price grumbled, sipping on his Mai Tai.
He’d taken the umbrella out of it and flicked it at the waiter who’d originally brought the drink to him. Not only had they put the damn umbrella in there, but it was pink of all colors.
“I think you’re just being grouchy because Captain Sexy there doesn’t have time to deal with you,” Ryker commented idly, slurping contentedly on the pink concoction that could loosely be referred to as his drink.
He was rocking the pink umbrella and not thinking anything of it, though. It only made Price grumble more.
“You’re full of shit,” Price huffed, averting his gaze from the Captain’s table for once.
So what if he had been staring at it all night? No one could blame him. He had a job to do, after all. Among his tasks was making sure that the captain of the vessel they were on wasn’t mauled to death by randy cruise-goers.
“She can take care of herself, you know,” Prowler said quietly, keeping his words between the two of them.
Amy had been the center of some unwanted attention – at least in Price’s opinion – every night during the large banquet dinners. Each evening had a separate theme, with tonight’s being Secret Dance Affair, whatever that was. It all meant that there would be countless guys buzzing around the captain’s table, vying for her attention and trying to get a dance in with the admittedly gorgeous woman.
Despite better judgment, it made Price irrevocably jealous. So much, in fact, that each night, sitting at the dinner table with Shifter Squad Nine, he couldn’t really do anything but throw hateful glances at every man who dared approach her table.
To his credit, he was pretty sure he’d managed to scare off a couple of men who’d seen his eyes flash golden.
“I know she can,” Price muttered in response.
He was still salty that Prowler had managed to snag some alone time with her as well. In fact, Prowler had been over to her cabin twice and while Price knew his brother well enough to be sure that nothing untoward had happened, it still made him bitterly envious.
Just have to make my own fortune, I guess.
“How did you know about her anyway?” Prowler asked suddenly, leaning across the table to throw a glance at Ryker. “You weren’t even there for most of the time when we… uh, met her.”
Price cringed a little at Prowler’s choice of words. He didn’t have to glance at Dice to know that their lead was trying to hide a wide smirk behind his bite of chicken Tikka Masala.
Bastards.
“Oh, you know. Word gets around. It’s our job to know. So on, and so forth,” Ryker said with a theatric sigh, met with a smile from his brother.
One that was far too knowing for Price’s taste.
“It was Thor, wasn’t it?” Price said dryly, tossing a look at the characteristically quiet sniper, who took up the furthest end of the table from Price.
Thor didn’t even arch a brow at the insinuation that he’d been spreading rumors. Though could they be considered rumors if they were totally true?
“Maybe,” Rio admitted with a shrug.
“And how did you know?” Prowler asked, obviously somewhat taken aback at how well-informed his squad was about the trouble that he and his brother had gotten themselves into.
“I could smell it on the two of you,” Thor said evenly, laughter breaking out in the wake of his comments from the rest of the men at the table.
“I don’t follow,” Price said, frowning.
He was gripping his fork a little too hard at this point. Prowler nudged him with his elbow and Price averted his gaze from Thor to glance at the captain’s table again. Some tall, blond goofball with a crew-cut was trying to talk Amy up and she was putting on a brave face. The thought of shoving his fork in that man’s skull seemed entirely too appealing for a moment.
“Fine. I know the medic on Shadow Two. We used to share some downtime, if you know what I mean,” Thor said with a sigh, apparently moved by the murderous glances he was getting from the Renard twins. “She told me that you two had been sighted sharing one too many tequilas with a certain someone.”
“Great,” Price muttered. “Can’t even have a goddamn drink without the whole company knowing about it.”
“You forget that The Firm is basically high school, with more testosterone and bigger guns,” Dice commented with a stifled yawn.
The days on The Pearl Princess had been surprisingly brutal. Because they had to keep their ears open and be ready to move at any time, it meant that the whole squad had gotten strict orders to mingle as much as possible and keep busy. It was really a fancy way of saying that all of them had played way too much bingo, taken part in limbo competitions, poetry readings and speed dating rounds to be able to tell one from the other anymore.
While Price would have enjoyed all of it at any other time, after meeting Amy, his capability of enjoying time spent with other women had taken a very obvious dive. The fake smile he’d put on during the speed dating event that afternoon still hurt his cheeks.
But, at least most of them were sporting a decent tan at this point and they were yet to discover any evil plots to blow up the ship, or worse. That had to count for something, right?
If only those fucking asshats would leave her alone, I could sleep easy tonight…
Grimly, Price speared his fork into a cut of beef and popped it in his mouth. It tasted dry and bland and he knew it had nothing to do with the meat itself and everything to do with the fact that he wanted to be on a warpath. Instead, he had to sit there with Shifter Squad Nine and pretend to be having a civilized conversation with them.
Pure torture.
Just then, the host for the night appeared in the middle of the large, open space left in the main banquet hall. The collective groan that went through the Shifter Squad Nine table was hard to muffle, though the raucous clapping around them did a fine enough job of it.
Price stirred the swizzle stick in his drink, watching the colors swirl together. Try as he might, he wasn’t going to be able to get his mind off of Amy that night. Or any night, really.
“Dear guests, are you having a good time!?” the host hollered, giving the widest, toothiest grin Price had ever seen.
He answered it with a glower that she didn’t notice. The whole room was hooting and hollering, the happy revelers anxiously awaiting for the festivities to begin.
Any other time, Price would have been scoping out his competition for the host, and probably arguing with his brother whether she was worth their attention. On this damn cruise though, those thoughts were the furthest thing from Price’s head.
It was like he was stuck in some special kind of hell – he couldn’t hide out in the cabin because he had work to do, and also because he didn’t want to stray too far from Amy. And he couldn’t enjoy his time doing all of the silly activities because… well, he would have much rather been having a conversation with Amy.
About anything.
That alone made him cringe. Price Renard wasn’t exactly the talking type.
Sufficiently pleased with her welcome, the tiny, blond bombshell of an event director beamed another smile and hushed the crowd with a raised hand.
“Tonight, we have something special for you all! Our lovely band, the Shaking Shifters, have planned a full night of dancing for you with only the best tunes to get your butts out of the chairs and shaking about! And, as a special treat, our esteemed Captain has agreed to take part as well! Isn’t that awesome!?”
Price perked up immediately, his and Prowler’s attention snapping immediately to the event director and then to Amy, who was smiling courteously and lifting her glass of water in greeting to everyone. Then, Prowler looked at Price a
nd their gazes met, a silent conversation taking part between the two brothers.
“Try not to kill one another, will you? She can’t dance with both of you,” Ryker commented wryly, bringing a low growl to Price’s lips. “Whoa there, puppy. Settle down. I’m a happily married man, I mean no offense,” Ryker added with a chuckle, holding up his hand for a moment.
There was no ring on it, though. Apparently Ryker had forgotten about that for a moment. All of the married men in Squad Nine had had to put their bands away and none of them were particularly happy about it. He let his hand drop down on the table with a grunt, Rio patting him on the shoulder in a commiserating kind of way.
“Whatever. You get what I mean,” Ryker snorted.
“Shh, she’s talking,” Prowler shushed, nodding at the event director.
“The rules are simple! Whichever couple impresses the judges the most gets this fabulous prize!”
She swung her hand to point at a large, garish trophy being brought in by two crewmembers, glinting and glimmering under the spotlights.
“Isn’t it awesome!?”
The crowd roared. Price tried to keep from gagging on the schmaltziness of it all.
“But we’re not only giving away this trophy! No, you will get free bar credit for three days and a special coupon to tomorrow’s All You Can Eat Carnivore Buffet! If you want to take part of the dance-off, then you need to be on the dance floor in ten seconds! I’m going to start counting down now! Ten… Nine…”
People were getting up from their tables and rushing across the room to snatch up their partners. Some grabbed the hand of the closest person to them, but others made very distinct beelines for someone else.
“Eight… Seven…”
Price swallowed, his eyes flashing gold. Sharing another look with Prowler, he knew exactly how this was going to play out.
“Six… Five…”
“Dibs,” he called, causing his younger brother’s brows to shoot up.
When Price practically jumped over the table to get out of his seat faster, Dice’s chuckle was the last thing that he heard. His senses went into overdrive as he sprinted across the floor, his trajectory bullet-straight.