“He didn’t know Cal was going to move so quickly,” Jace insisted, sitting on the edge of another chair pulled near the window.

My father thought, and I bit my lip to keep from rushing him. “What does he know?”

I could only shrug, still holding the phone up with my hand covering the mouthpiece. “He’s waiting for your word that you’ll take him in.”

“Then how do you know he knows anything?”

Jace frowned. “If Calvin’s involved, Brett knows.”

Marc nodded solemnly. “And he’s probably risking a lot, just talking to Faythe.”

“He is. And he doesn’t have a lot of time.” Too nervous to sit, I stood, watching my father anxiously. My heartbeat ticked off each endless second of silence. Then, finally, he opened his eyes and held one hand out.

“Give me the phone.”

I handed Jace’s cell over and my father held it up to his ear, then stood to walk as he spoke. “Brett? My daughter tells me you have information about your father’s involvement with a Flight of thunderbirds? Are you willing to volunteer that information?”

“I am—in exchange for sanctuary.” Brett’s voice actually shook, and I took Marc’s hand where he still stood, squeezing it to offer him the comfort I couldn’t offer Brett. “I can’t go back after this, Councilman Sanders.”

“I’ll go one better than that. If you can bring us proof of your Alpha’s involvement, you’ll have a job here as an enforcer.”

Brett exhaled, and I could hear his simultaneous relief and unease, all in that one breath. “Are you serious? Sir?”

“Completely.” My father smiled, amused by the young tom’s nervous doubt. “Anyone willing to stand against his own father in the name of justice belongs here with us.”

“Thank you, sir. I accept.”

My grin was so big it threatened to split my face.

“I’m in the middle of something, so I’m going to let you give Faythe the details. Then I want you to get your proof and come straight here. And be careful. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.”

My father was almost truly smiling when he handed me the phone, but his worried frown was back by the time he made it to the hallway. He was concerned about Charlie. And probably about the rest of us. “Take notes,” he instructed, then disappeared down the hall.

I leaned back on the couch, already digging in the nearest end-table drawer for a notepad and pen. Fortunately, my mother stashed them everywhere. “Thank you, Faythe,” Brett whispered into my ear, and I had to blink back tears in order to speak clearly.

“You can thank my dad when you get here. For now, just tell us what you know.”

Marc settled onto the cushion next to me, and Jace leaned forward in his chair, listening carefully as his brother began to speak. “Two days ago, one of our guys took down a deer, then went to ring the proverbial dinner bell. Before he was fifty feet away, this huge bird swooped down on his meal. Our man killed the thunderbird in a dispute over the kill. When we reported it, my dad went nuts. Said the last thing we needed was to piss off the thunderbirds. It took him a day or so to get there.…”