Lynx Northern Shifters 3

a week had passed. Drugs made his estimate fuzzy.
    This time a hand came out and shook Jonah’s shoulder. He flinched and the hand lifted off him. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
Jonah didn’t really see the point.
The man swore. “What the fuck? There is no way in hell you’re a wolf.”
This time Jonah made the effort not to react, and succeeded. Who was this asshole? “Okay, Jonah, here’s how it’s going to be. There’s no IV, not any longer”—at which point Jonah
vaguely recalled there’d been something in his arm while he’d drifted in and out of consciousness—“so you’re going to get damned thirsty if I don’t give you something to drink.”
    Hmmm. Dying of thirst wasn’t the most appealing thing Jonah had heard of. Then again, he wasn’t feeling very tractable at the moment.
“I can’t fucking believe it. Christ.” The man heaved another breath as if he were running a race, or was hugely disappointed. Jonah became curious. He’d never disappointed anyone to this extent for so little reason, and this guy was a perfect stranger.
He opened his eyes, turned his head. Stared into the face of a man he now remembered—Horton. Neil the cop had introduced them and left them in a room together to talk. Last thing Jonah remembered he’d taken a drink of water.
He hoped Neil didn’t feel too badly. The cop had liked to look out for Jonah, had believed he was doing Jonah a favor by bringing Horton to him.
“Okay, reward time. You did as you were told. You get a drink.” Horton didn’t sound enthusiastic about Jonah’s “reward”.
Jonah swallowed, noting his throat was dry, before he spoke. “Why are you talking to me about wolves?”
More swearing, not particularly colorful. Well, this had to be the most unusual experience of Jonah’s life, being shackled to a bed and disappointing some man because he wasn’t a werewolf.
“Do I get a drink?”
The man didn’t move, but his expression changed then, and Jonah realized he was being perceived as useless. He wondered in a rather theoretical way if he was going to be killed. This thought didn’t alarm him, and whether that was the leftover effects of the drugs that had been in his body for a week or simply the dullness that had invaded his thinking over the past year, he didn’t know.
However, instead of slitting Jonah’s throat or whatever other means of murder the man would have used, he passed Jonah a bottle of water which he took with his free hand.
Rising awkwardly given his shackles, Jonah tipped back his head and drank deeply, only then realizing he was hungry. Whether it was wise to admit it or not, he didn’t know. The expression on the man’s face was changing again, disappointment still evident, but also a speculative look.
“How well did you know Trey?”
Jonah stared straight ahead. He didn’t want to speak of Trey to anyone, ever. Trey was dead, or Trey had broken an important promise to Jonah, something he was not going to be able to forgive him for. Either way, Horton obviously knew something about Trey’s link to werewolves and Jonah refused to give Trey away to his captor. He couldn’t stand the idea of Trey being held by Horton in this manner.
His stomach rumbled and Horton threatened again. “Answer my questions or your skinny body is going to get skinnier.”
Lifting one shoulder in a slight shrug, Jonah drank more.
“I cannot understand what Trey would be doing with a homeless human. Homeless wolf, sure. Not human. And you’re sure as hell not one of those rare cougars or you’d be a snarling mess.”
Jonah smiled. He wasn’t a cougar, no. He supposed lynxes were less aggressive. But they knew how to go after prey. When Aaron had beat his mother once too often and too hard and she never woke up again, Jonah had bided his time before becoming the predator and ripping out Aaron’s throat. Jonah was beginning to think he would stalk Horton too, though it was going to be trickier, given that he was bound to this bed and Horton was a free man.
“How did you meet Trey?” Horton asked.
To stalk someone, you sometimes had to interact with them, so Jonah cocked his head, considering his words. “He told me he’d come back.”
“That’s not an answer, Jonah.”
“But you came instead.” Here, Jonah met Horton’s pale blue gaze. “You’re a liar, so it’s pointless to say much to you.”
Horton frowned. “I haven’t lied to you.”
“You misrepresented yourself to Neil. He wouldn’t have