Hunted – 45

Brice watched with some amusement when Skye and Logan separated and she turned bright red in embarrassment. It was the first time today that he’d actually had something to smile about. He and Faolán had prowled around each other like two wolves who wanted to fight but had to ascertain the strength of the enemy first. Only he didn’t want to fight or argue. He just couldn’t think of a way to defuse the situation.

It hadn’t helped that he and the show’s director had had words about how the man expected him to play a scene. Now that Brice knew he was a shifter with all it entailed, he suddenly found some of the things he was expected to do as the werewolf galling. Especially since Faolán had been there, albeit off on the sidelines, with a look of disdain on his face as he’d watched the filming of the scene.

Now, once she regained her composure, Skye asked, “So what’s the plan?”

“I want to see the house,” Faolán replied. “Why we didn’t just meet there rather than here…” He shot a disgusted look at Brice.

“We have to come up with a way to get Maximus to come after me at the house, and not somewhere else,” Brice said as he ignored Faolán’s comment. “I did call Morgan about the panic room, and ordered the paint and the silver nitrate early this morning. Both companies promised to have the stuff delivered there by the end of the today, which hopefully means Skye can mix them tonight.”

“Another reason we should be there, not here,” Faolán muttered.

Brice stared daggers at him for a moment. “We will be. Sorry if it offended you that I didn’t set that up with them last night before they left.”

Logan glanced between the two men. “Whoa, what’s going on here?”

Faolán opened his mouth to reply then snapped it closed again. Brice wasn’t so circumspect. “He seems to have an issue with my life style,” he said acerbically.

“Not true. Only with the fact that you brag about it. How you live your life is none of my business.”

“Men, honestly,” Skye grumbled. “Brice, why would you be bragging to him about…whatever in the first place?

“I wasn’t,” Brice said defensively. “I was just trying to explain something and the more I did the worse it sounded.”

Faolán spat out, “No shit. The Lothario here seems to think every man, and woman, finds him irresistible.”

“That is not what I said to you.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Stop, both of you, now!” Skye’s lips quirked up in amusement as she said, “Just kiss and make up.”  

Brice looked at her in shock. “What? I so don’t think that’s happening. For starters he’d probably cold-cock me. I’d be willing to bet on it, actually.”

“Why?”

“After what Maximus did to him? The last thing he’d want would be some gay man trying…anything.”

Faolán looked puzzled. “You say that as if I’m straight.”

“Aren’t you? I thought from what you said that… I mean surely the ones Maximus forced himself on weren’t…there can’t be that many…”

Faolán almost smiled as he replied, “Do you really think you were the only gay male born into the pack? Yes, Maximus thought his victims were straight. He liked the idea of using and abusing them. Of being able to bend them to his will. It made him feel all the more powerful. Sometimes…” Faolán shrugged, “he chose wrong. Not that it made it any better in my case, or yours.”

“Well…hell.”

Logan couldn’t help it. He laughed at the look on Brice’s face. “Now that that’s cleared up,” he said, “can we get back to the business at hand? You two can work things out between you later.”

“There’s nothing to work out. He’s still a conceited…actor,” Faolán growled.

“And you’re a self-righteous...”

“Yes?” Faolán cocked an eyebrow.

“Shifter,” Brice said quickly. “And Logan’s right, we should get down to business.”