Page 62 of A Touch of Crimson
“Yeah, but I need to keep a low profile now.”
She winced. “Because of me? Because I took off?”
“No.” He exhaled audibly. “I used to be a member of the Navajo Lake pack. Then I was sent to Adrian for observation. Right now, the less I’m observed, the more likely it’ll be that they forget I was any trouble at all.”
“I didn’t peg you for the troublemaker type.” He was too stoic, too honorable. He took his commitments seriously, as evidenced by the fact that he’d jumped on a plane to come after her in spite of being terrified of flying.
“I don’t think I am.”
“Hmm… Let’s head someplace to eat, and you can tell me about it.”
“I’m up for the food, not for the talking.”
She shot him a wry look. “After nearly a week in my company, you still haven’t figured me out yet?”
Elijah gave a long-suffering sigh and gestured toward the door. “It was worth a shot.”
Lindsay managed to let Elijah mow his way through two full stacks of pancakes and six over-easy eggs before she pressed him for more information. “So why do people think you’re a troublemaker?”
He dropped a pat of butter onto his hash browns. “I said I was being observed, not that I’m a troublemaker.”
“Okay then.” She pushed aside the remnants of her breakfast. “What are you being observed for?”
He shoveled a massive forkful of potatoes into his mouth. After he chewed and swallowed, he said, “There are some who think I show Alpha traits.”
“Alpha. Like top dog? King of the hill? Master of all he surveys?” She nodded. “Totally.”
He paused with another heaping forkful suspended halfway between his plate and his lips. “You’re not helping.”
“What?” She leaned back into the booth. “What’s wrong with that? Better than being a Beta male for sure. I mean, they have their uses and all. But really, women are looking for sexy, hunky Alpha males. We like that take-charge, take-no-shit, bad-boy vibe. It really does a number on us, which I’m sure you’ve noticed in the course of your seventy-some-odd years of living.”
Elijah exhaled in a way that conveyed endless patience. “Women aside,” he said drily, “it’s not good to show Alpha traits when you’re a lycan.”
“Why not?”
He stared at her for a long moment, as if debating what to say or whether he should say it at all. “The Sentinels are supposed to be the only Alphas. The lycans are supposed to look to them for guidance, not to each other.”
The gravity in his voice sobered her. Lindsay waited until their waitress had topped off her coffee and moved on to another table, then asked, “What happens if it’s decided that you’re an Alpha lycan?”
“I’ll be separated from the others and… I don’t know. Alphas don’t come around very often, so I don’t know what happens to them. I’ve heard rumors that they’re kept together and used for non–field assignments, like interrogations, but frankly, I don’t see how that would work. You can’t put a bunch of Alphas together and expect them to play nice. But maybe that’s the point—make us kill each other, so the Sentinels don’t get their hands dirty.”
“I can’t believe Adrian would condone that.”
“After working with him, I’m not sure he’s fully aware of how the lycan system is run.” He grabbed the top half of an English muffin and eyed the amount of butter already on it. “He’s out there in the trenches, more so than any other Sentinel I’ve seen. He’s always on a hunt. He hadn’t been home in almost two weeks when you saw us in Phoenix. We’d taken out a rogue minion just a few hours before we ran across you.”
“He’s been away from home for days now.”
Elijah opened two jelly packets and scraped the contents onto his muffin. “Yeah. Hunting is what he lives for. It’s his way.”
She blew out her breath. It was her way, too. The only way she knew. “Okay, you’ll think this is crazy, but… what about going into business with me? Bounty hunting, maybe? Private investigations? You’d still be hunting. Plus, I’ve got a score to settle that I could really use your help with. We both know I need someone to be the levelheaded voice of reason.”
He paused in the act of chewing, staring at her, then washed down his food with half a glass of orange juice. “You think I can just quit?”
“Hey, I’d have to quit my job, too.”
“The only way out of working for the Sentinels is death.”
Lindsay’s pulse stuttered. “What are you saying? You’re prisoners? Slaves?”
