Noah

He was in the lounge when it all went to shit.

Drinking soda, to be exact. A freshly poured cola. With three cubes of ice and a swirly straw. It was the only straw he could find, not his choice. The door opened, admitting someone. Noah was deep into his thoughts at that point, trying to play mental games in his head, thinking one, two, even five steps ahead of his opponent. Trying to get into their head.

He had a headache.

Why couldn’t this be easier? Why couldn’t they just walk up to me and say:

“Hello, Noah.”

He jerked in surprise, coming up off his seat defensively before he could even realize what was going on.

Chase stood behind the stool next to him, dressed as he was, in the normal outfit of the guard. White T-shirt, black tactical pants, black boots. Boring.

Efficient.

“Whoa, easy there,” Chase said, slipping easily onto the stool and motioning for Noah to join him.

He did, but warily, keeping a watchful eye on his fellow guard out of his periphery. Things had been tense between the two of them ever since their encounter in the hallway nearly a week before. Noah still couldn’t figure out if Chase was like him, and perhaps trying to finger Noah as the spy, or if Chase was the spy himself.

There were simply too many variables, and not enough information for him to come to a conclusion. More data was needed, but getting it had proved elusive. The whole embassy was walking on eggshells, as if everyone was aware something was going on, but nobody was willing to talk about it.

Things were about to change, it would seem.

“What do you want?” he asked grouchily, settling back onto his seat. He wasn’t in the mood to play anymore word games. Not today.

“Information.”

Noah felt his spine attempt to straighten, and forced it down. Now was not the time to give away how on edge that single word put him. He needed Chase to believe that he had no idea what was going on.

“Um, okay? What kind of information?”

“The kind that I am positive you possess. Information about what is going on in Cloud Lake.”

Noah managed to give him a frown. “What do you mean?”

Chase grinned. The look never touched his eyes. For the first time Noah realized how dead they looked. Cold. Empty. Lifeless. How had he never noticed that before? It was a huge sign of someone detached from their reality. A person who was only there for the job, not for any sort of personal reason. Someone like a spy. An agent determined to follow his orders, no matter how wrong they might be.

“You know what I mean. You’re in. I know you are. They brought you in, and told you what was going on, didn’t they?”

The question wasn’t quite phrased properly. There was confidence and command, but not in the right balance. Too much command, not enough confidence. Noah wanted to smile. Chase was lying. He didn’t actually know if Noah knew. He was playing a hunch. A big one too. If he was wrong, he would be revealed as the spy.

Would he though? What evidence do I have to prove he’s not just trying to do what I’m doing? It’s entirely possible Chase is just hoping to prove that it’s me who is the spy. I need proof. Tangible proof, dammit. I need to play dumb some more.

“They ‘brought me in’?” he asked dubiously. “In to what, Chase?” He gave the guard a look of confusion, which was easy to since he hadn’t actually been brought in to anything.

The muscles of the other shifter’s jaw bunched, and for a moment a look of doubt was visible within the dead eyes. Chase smothered it quickly however, revealing himself for what he was, a professional. He’d messed up, and he knew it, but he wasn’t going to let that continue to affect him.

“I know you know more than you’re admitting,” Chase said in a low voice.

Noah lifted his eyebrows, trying to feign surprise and more confusion. “Know more about what?” he asked, letting exasperation color his voice.

“About this town, and what shifters like Gray and Hector are doing to it,” Chase hissed. “I’ve seen how close you and Angela have gotten. She’s friends with Rachel. Girls talk, Noah. You know that.”

He laughed. “Now on that account at least, you’re correct. Girls do talk. I hear about all kinds of stuff I don’t give a shit about. But man, they get angry if you don’t listen.” Noah held up his hands. “Now, I’m not talking trying to offer any advice on solving the problem. Noooo, they don’t want that. They want you to sit there and listen to them vent. Bonus points if you can just vent alongside them, let them feed off of your bitching.” He laughed some more. “I learned that one ages ago.”

Chase looked furious at the dismissive laughter. Noah didn’t understand. What was driving him? Why was he being so aggressive after weeks of stealthy operation? Revealing himself openly like this in a gamble to get Noah to side with him was insane. Something was pushing him, forcing him to rush, to be sloppy.

Then again, he reminded himself, Chase still hadn’t actually revealed anything.

“Don’t lie to me,” Chase accused him.

Noah whirled and slammed a fist down onto the bar top, cracking it in half, the entire length splitting apart. He kept his fist there, eyes blazing with fury as he stared Chase straight in the eye.

“I didn’t lie,” he said icily, his voice cold enough to freeze fire. “Angela told me nothing. Got it? Whatever you’re trying to figure out here, whatever you seem to think it is that I’m involved in, she has nothing to do with it. Accuse me of craziness all you like, I can handle it, because I know I’ve done nothing wrong. Hell, I still don’t know what you’re accusing me of. But you leave Angela out of it. Understood?”

Chase smiled.

Shit. I let him get a reaction out of me. That was stupid, Noah. Really, really stupid.

“Give it up, Noah,” Chase said, sliding from his seat.

“Okay, I have to respond to that,” he said tiredly. “First, give what up? And secondly, are you threatening me?”

“I’ll find out one way or another. It would be a lot easier if you would just tell me.”

Noah let his shoulders slump in defeat. Chase was definitely going all out, but he still wasn’t giving away what was going on. Which was even more confusing. If he was that good, why the rash action tonight? Had he truly expected Noah to reveal what he knew? What if he was completely wrong, and Noah hadn’t known anything?

None of it made sense!

“Go away, Chase.”

“Sure,” the other man said cheerily. “I’ll just go call up Angela. Maybe she’ll tell me.”

Noah shouldn’t have done it. He knew he shouldn’t have. It was playing right into Chase’s hands. He was goading him into it, egging him on, getting under his skin, and doing a damn good job of it. The whole conversation had been geared toward this point he thought, to making him do what he was about to do.

Fuck it. The man had mentioned Angela. Had subtly threatened her. Noah wasn’t the type to take that lightly.

So he kicked the barstool into Chase’s legs. Then, while the other shifter was reacting to that he tore one half of the ten-foot-long bar from its mount and used it like a baseball bat. Chase flew across the room, hitting the far wall with his left shoulder and bouncing off it to the ground. A deep gong sounded from where he’d impacted, running up and down the length of the wall and then some.

Noah smiled. Out of sheer luck he’d found one of the building’s steel support beams. How unfortunate for Chase. He darted across the room, reaching out to wrap his hands around the other shifter’s neck.

He was inches away when a frying pan dented itself on his forehead. Noah’s knee’s suddenly stopped working and he wobbled backward, depositing himself ass-first on the floor. Chase laughed and went to rise, but the backhand of the pan took him in the chin. Noah had the satisfaction of seeing blood and what might have been a tooth go flying before a massive figure loomed up in front of him.

“What the FUCK is going on here?!” Gray bellowed, his voice cutting through the ringing in Noah’s ears with ease.

He started to respond, but Chase beat him to it.

“It was my fault,” he said, breathing hard, blood dripping from his mouth as he spoke. “I got jealous, said something about his woman I shouldn’t have.”

Gray looked at Noah. “Is this true?”

Noah gritted his teeth, and then nodded. “Yes,” he replied, his voice sounding like thunder inside his head. He raised a hand, touching the impact spot gingerly. It hurt. “I overreacted. A little.”

Gray barked a laugh. “A little? Using a ten-foot-long club is what you deem a ‘little’? No wonder you tossed a guy through a door and then into a wall your first day here.”

“I’m never going to live that down,” he complained.

“You two are suspended from duty. No pay for a week. Confined to your rooms. Got it?”

Noah opened his mouth to protest, but Chase agreed immediately, leaving the ball in his court. Fuck that slimy little sonofabitch, he thought. He knew this was going to happen.

The question was, as it seemed to be so irritatingly often recently: why?

Chase gained something from having them both confined to their rooms. It was up to Noah to find out what.