Lynx Northern Shifters 3

even if it was meant to be reassuring.
    “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.” Neil started walking and Jonah obediently fell in step. “Remember you were asking about a Trey Walters?”
Jonah faltered briefly and tried not to react in an obvious manner. Humans thought there was something wrong with him when he revealed too much emotion. But of course he remembered.
“I found someone who might be able to answer some of your questions.”
And then they were there, across the road, Jonah staring into the pale eyes of a middle-aged man with a grizzled beard. Jonah had the impression FBI agents were likely to be clean-shaven and tried not to show his disappointment. After all this time, it seemed impossible to think this nondescript man might know something about Trey. Still, Jonah kept a tight grip on himself, because the speculative look in the stranger’s eyes made him uneasy. In addition there was a scent about him that Jonah had come to associate with anticipation.
The bearded man was excited to be meeting Jonah.
“Jonah Carvin,” he said, introducing himself and putting out his hand. Taking the initiative sometimes helped him in situations where he couldn’t predict what would happen next.
The man didn’t smile, just gave Jonah the briefest once-over, an assessment of sorts, before putting out his hand in return. As they shook, he said, “My name is Horton. I wanted to ask you some questions about Trey Walters.”
Jonah’s throat felt dry but he forced the words out. “Is he alive?”
“Absolutely. But I’m surprised that you’ve met him. And that’s what we have to talk about.”
“All right,” Jonah said slowly and looked once to Neil, for reassurance, he supposed, though how the cop could reassure him, Jonah didn’t know.
“We’ll go back to the station.” Neil indicated the police car. “You’re not in trouble.”
“Not at all,” Horton added smoothly, causing the back of Jonah’s neck to prickle, invisible cat fur rising in distrust. Nevertheless, his desire to hear more about Trey trumped his reluctance to be with this man, so Jonah collected his belongings, explained the situation to his boss and slid into the backseat of the police car.

Chapter Thirteen
Jonah woke to a blurred hazy world. He was finally back at home, in his cot.
    No, not at home. Why had he thought that? He lay on a bed, on a mattress. There were lines surrounding him. Bars?
That couldn’t be right. He blinked more than a few times, though his eyelids were heavy and it was difficult to see. There were bars on the bed. Bars at the door. When he tried to lift his head, its weight held him down and that alarmed him so much that he forced himself to sit up. The room spun, and he felt himself collapsing as his world turned black.
    His lynx wanted to escape. That’s all he knew as he faded in and out of consciousness. But he lay plastered to the bed, unable to move, still human and without enough energy to rise despite his lynx raging within.
    He wasn’t always alone.
“Jonah,” said the voice. It had spoken before, and the only thing Jonah could do was pretend it didn’t exist. He wasn’t thinking coherently enough to know why he should keep up this show of pretense, but it took no energy and it seemed to be the safest option. He followed his cat’s instinct.
“Jonah Carvin.” A more authoritative tone this time. “You do not have enough drug in your body to be this incapacitated. I’ve tested you people. A wolf would have shifted by now and be pacing your cell.”
Good thing I’m not a wolf.
“So wolf means something to you, does it?” A soft grunt. The voice had expected a reaction and he got one, though Jonah didn’t know what he’d done, what he’d revealed.
Wolf meant Trey, but Jonah intended to say nothing about Trey. In fact, he thought he might never speak again. Certainly not under these conditions. The voice repeated his name and other nonsensical words followed. The voice was commanding, directing, but Jonah did not bother to listen, to decipher the flow of the words. He let the noise pass by him and allowed himself to fall back into the abyss.
The next time he woke, he was bound—shackled tightly around one wrist and one ankle so that he could not shift to escape—but at least his head had cleared.
    “Are you human?” That voice again, Jonah was getting tired of it and he hadn’t been conscious for all that long over the past few…days? His internal clock said it was possible