He stiffened and his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “I’m not going back there.”
Makenna placed a reassuring hand on Zac’s arm as they locked gazes. “Hey, no one will make you. I’ll kill anyone who tries.”
Ryan believed that. She was the image of serenity when she turned back to him and his pack mates, but that wild glint still lurked in her eyes. Her comment and fierce tone might have scared another juvenile, but Zac seemed reassured. He obviously felt safe with Makenna. “I have no intention of taking you anywhere against your will,” Ryan assured him. “And I would never force you to go back there.”
Zac didn’t appear totally convinced, but he nodded once. Ryan took a moment to study him, taking in his appearance. The kid didn’t look like a loner. His clothes were decent, he was clean, and he didn’t appear undernourished. The people at the shelter had obviously been taking good care of him. “I brought you something.”
Zac’s eyes widened at the object that Ryan pulled out of his pocket. “A cell phone?”
“The number of every Phoenix wolf is stored in there. If you need anything, if something happens and you need help, you call one of us.”
“But . . . you don’t know me.”
“We’re going to fix that.”
Slowly, Zac reached out and took the phone. “Um, thanks.”
“I have to say,” said Jaime, “I didn’t know there was a shelter for loners. Where is it?”
“Not far from here,” Makenna replied. “The end of Maverick Avenue, near the old church.”
Trey’s brows lifted. “That’s a rough area.”
Dante tilted his head as he looked at Makenna. “Where are you from?” He’d spoken casually, but his eyes were sharp. Assessing. Searching.
She was dealing with an interrogator, Makenna knew. “I’ve lived in a lot of places.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“If you mean am I a hired killer, no.”
A growl threatened to rumble up Ryan’s chest. He didn’t like Dante’s tone at all. It was the same soft yet predatory one he used when grilling intruders or enemies. Makenna didn’t appear to like it much either. But she didn’t shrink away. Again, her strength impressed his wolf. He knew it would gain her the respect of the others—even if it were begrudgingly earned.
“One of our pack members is a very powerful hacker. But he didn’t find anything on a Makenna Wray,” continued Dante. “Not a damn thing. So . . . who are you really? And, more importantly, what did you do that was so bad you were cast out?”
Makenna inwardly sighed. Packs always made the same assumptions about loners. It never occurred to them that sometimes a loner had been wronged in being banished. She’d bristle if she weren’t so used to it. “I’m not important here. Zac is.”
“You’re acting as pretty much a guardian to Ryan’s cousin. We have a right to know who you are.”
A right? Pfft. “You know, my daily horoscope did mention that I’d have a mountain to face today . . . I just hadn’t figured it would be an actual living being.”
Taryn’s mouth curved while Jaime chuckled.
“If you have questions about Zac, feel free to ask them,” said Makenna. “I’m not a subject up for discussion.” Her tone was firm but not harsh.
With an incline of his head, Dante transferred his focus to Zac. For the next thirty minutes, the Phoenix wolves talked with him about everyday things. They were very patient and friendly toward him. Makenna noticed that although he didn’t relax, he was no longer in “flight” mode by the time they returned to her Mustang.
She was just about to slide into the driver’s seat when Ryan came to her side. “I’ll be one minute,” she assured Zac, guessing Ryan wanted to speak with her privately. Zac, who was in the passenger seat playing with his new cell phone, barely looked up.
“What happened to him?” Ryan asked in a low voice after she closed the car door.
She sighed. “I don’t know. He won’t talk about it. Look, I have to be straight with you. The York Pack has put out a search for Zac, which is why I created a false trail. But if they find out he’s with you—”
“Let them fucking come,” growled Ryan. “No one will hurt him. I won’t allow it.”
She nodded. “Good.” As Ryan’s eyes returned to Zac, she said, “I can understand that your instincts are hounding you to take him. I’m glad of that. But he’s not ready yet.”
Knowing she was right didn’t make it any less frustrating. “I want to see him again tomorrow.”
“Good. The consistency will help. We’ll meet you at the diner on Lumley Street at noon. He loves the food there.” Close to the shelter, the diner was smack bam in the middle of an area that mostly housed loners. Zac would feel safer on what, for him, was home turf.
“That’s twice now you’ve dictated the time and the place that I get to see him.”
“Because I know Zac. I know what places make him feel comfortable. I know this must be hard for you in some ways, but his feelings come first to me.” Compelled to poke at him, she arched a brow. “Got a problem with that, White Fang?”
“Drop the White Fang.”
“Drop the snarl.”
“Do you have to be so annoying?”