“I’m getting evidence for Blackwell.” Before he could press for details, I turned to Jace. “I need your phone.”

Jace dug it from his pocket with neither hesitation nor questions, and I smiled at him gratefully. No one else would have done that. Even Marc would have asked why I wanted it.

I took Jace’s phone and headed toward my room, calling over my shoulder as I ran. “I’ll fill you in after I consult my source.”

Seven

“Hello?” Brett sounded cautious and suspicious—and he didn’t even know who was calling yet. Jace had his half brother on speed dial, as I’d known he would. Other than his mother, Brett was the only family member in his contacts—which I’d also guessed.

“Hey, Brett, it’s me.”

“Faythe?” he whispered, then something scratched against the receiver as he covered it. A few seconds later, he was back, and the background chatter was gone, leaving only the wind—a hollow-sounding echo in my ear. “My dad will kill me if he finds out I’m talking to you!”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the game. He tried to kill me in November.” I was too nervous and upset to sit, so I walked the carpet at the foot of my bed, occasionally running the fingers of my casted hand over the scarred posts.

“It’s not a good time, Faythe. What do you want?”

I took a deep breath and tried to keep in mind how difficult this whole thing must have been for Brett. He knew his father was a lying, ambitious, hypocritical, sexist, bigoted bastard, and there was nothing he could do about that. Unlike Jace, he was Malone’s actual son and couldn’t just walk away from his Pride. Not without leaving his mother and the rest of his family. And not without permission, which Malone would never give.

But the time for easy choices had passed.

I sighed and let a hint of true fear and frustration leak into my tone. “There’s never going to be a good time, Brett. I need a favor. Information.”

For a moment, I heard only the whistling wind and the heavy rustle of evergreen boughs. He was in the woods behind his house, hopefully out of hearing range of the rest of his Pride, because if anyone overheard what I was about to ask for, he could be locked up for the rest of his life. Or worse.

Finally Brett spoke, and each word sounded like it hurt coming out. “I’m all out of favors, Faythe. Things are bad around here. They’re going to notice I’m gone.”

My heart ached for Brett. I knew what it was like to stand in conflict with the rest of my family. The rest of my Pride. But lives weren’t at stake when I argued with my parents. My Alpha wasn’t psychotically ambitious.

However, as strongly as I sympathized with his position, I had to think of my Pride first. Of Kaci and Manx. Of my father’s precarious position on the council. If he lost it, he’d lose the ability to protect us all. So I steeled my spine and forged ahead.