"Please don't hurt anyone."
Ty paused at the door.
"I'll be back before dark."
That's what his mouth said, but the stony hardness in his eyes said something else entirely.
No promises.
Chapter Six
Samson hadn't been exaggerating. The outsiders really had set up camp in the parking lot of his bar. Cars, trucks, a goddam RV—all of them glossy government black, of course—took up nearly every inch of the parking lot.
The betas had come prepared to stay awhile.
Too fucking bad.
Ty was about to send them home early.
He smashed his foot down on his truck's brake pedal as he made the turn, sending dust and gravel flying high into the air. He killed the engine and threw open his door. Twenty or so beta faces snapped his way as he stepped down.
"Who's in charge?" he demanded.
They all stared at him, not one daring to move. His parking lot had turned into a frozen sea of ill-fitting black suits and gaping mouths.
"Get me the beta in charge now," Ty shouted again.
That did it. One of the suits was rattled out of his stupor. He ran over to the RV in the center of the caravan and pounded on the door. After three hard knocks, it finally opened.
Ty crossed his arms and leaned back against the hood of his truck as a man in a slightly nicer suit than the others' stepped out. This beta didn't seem particularly awestruck or afraid as he looked Ty over. Streaks of silver shone in his dark, slicked-back hair. A network of faint lines at the corners of his eyes suggested he'd seen something of the world.
"You must be Mr. Wick," the beta said.
Mister? Nobody ever called him that.
"My name is Ty."
"I'm Agent Michael Christie." The beta stepped forward with a confidence that Ty rarely saw in outsiders. The man wasn't cocky—Ty caught a healthy whiff of fear in his sweat, and there was a healthy measure of respect in his gaze. He was even smart enough to stop with a good ten foot buffer between them. "I'm the lead agent on this assignment."
Just as Samson had said—the man appeared to be reasonable.
"What assignment?" Ty said. "The treaty clearly states that beta laws don't apply past the boundary."
"True." The agent nodded. "I don't claim to have any authority over you or your land."
Good. At least that was clear.
"But betas do have certain rights in neutral territory," Agent Christie continued. "Including the right to congregate and ask questions without fear of bodily harm."
"You've been to the Boundarylands before, haven't you?" Ty ventured a guess.
"I have," the agent said. "Though it is my first visit to the Pacific Northwest. All of my previous cases have been in the Southeast Boundarylands."
"They must do things differently down there," Ty said, shifting his weight on the hood. "We're don't generally welcome large groups of outsiders."
The agent nodded his understanding. "I understand that our presence here is upsetting many of your alpha brothers. You have my apologies for that."
"Does that mean you're leaving?"
The beta's lips pressed together as he shook his head. "Unfortunately, not yet. I've been sent here to do a job, and I cannot leave until it's done."
The agent didn't look any happier with the answer than Ty was, but at least the man wasn't trying to blow smoke up his ass. He was being honest. Ty could respect that.
Ty wasn't so sure about the other agents. Some of them reeked of nervous tension. Others were staring at him with thinly veiled disgust. He didn't trust a single one of them. They were too young, too inexperienced. The kind of betas with hair-trigger instincts and something to prove.
"I'm thirsty," Ty said, pushing himself off the truck. He started for the bar door and didn't look back. "If you want to ask questions, you'll have to ask them inside the bar. Alone."
A chorus of protests rose up as Agent Christie followed a few steps behind. Apparently, his underlings didn't like the thought of losing sight of their leader.
Tough shit. Ty didn't like them filling up his parking lot with their bullshit.
He felt some of his tension ease the second he stepped inside. The place was packed—an unusual sight for a Wednesday afternoon. Some of these alphas he only saw on the Friday nights when Nicki brought her girls in. But it seemed that after four days' lockdown, everyone was thirsty for a beer and game of pool.
Samson gave Ty a nod of welcome from behind the bar. "I see you met Agent Christie."
The beta wisely left an empty stool between himself and Ty as he took a seat.
"Two beers," Ty said.
Samson nodded and poured from a tap as Ty and the beta sized each other up in silence. The agent pulled out his wallet and slid Samson a bill large enough to cover drinks for everyone in the place.
"It was wise to open up the bar," the agent said before taking a sip. "Tensions eased immediately."
"They would disappear if you'd pack up your caravan and leave."
"I really wish I could," the agent sighed.
"But you have a job to do," Ty finished for him. "So, do it. I know you've been waiting to talk to me. Here I am. Talk."
The beta took another long and fortifying swig. When he put down his glass, his steady, unflinching gaze hinted at why he had been promoted to lead agent.
"I'm looking for a beta woman named Mia Baird," Christie said.
"I don't know any betas with that name."
The agent's brows inched up. This couldn't be new information to him, but it was obvious from his expression that it wasn't the news he'd been hoping for.
"So…she is an omega?" Christie asked carefully.
Ty pulled his shoulders back, instinctually reminding the beta who and what he was dealing with. "She's my omega."
The beta's expression tightened. He obviously wasn't looking forward
