by Juniper Hart
“What?” she snapped defensively, her cheeks staining red. If she really was reading his thoughts, was he reading hers, too?
Lev’s mouth curved up into a knowing smile. Or did she just think it was a knowing smile because she apparently had a perverted conscience?
“Are you always so jumpy?” he asked lightly.
“I am not jumpy,” Hazel huffed, looking about for the server. She signaled for the bill. “We have other things to do today.”
“I’m at your service.”
She grimaced, but the words filled her with an inexplicable warmth. She could think of a few things she could use Lev for. Idly, she considered that he might have meant for her to use him in such a fashion.
You need to make that doctor’s appointment sooner rather than later, Hazel scolded herself. You probably have a brain tumor.
“So, where to next?” Lev asked in that almost cheerful manner that made her furious. What did he have to be so happy about? He should be more serious, more focused.
Hazel realized she was nitpicking, looking for reasons to hate this stranger, but the opposite was happening. The more time she spent with him, the more she savored his company.
You need to get another cat, she decided. You’re looking to strangers for companionship.
“I’m dropping you off, I’ve got some things to do,” she said evasively. “Where can I leave you? The office or your hotel?”
“My hotel is fine,” Lev replied. He didn’t seem fazed by her abruptly ending their workday, and that fact alone alarmed her.
Was he not going to ask her where she was going or what she was doing? That would be a first for any man—partner or not. Even Ortiz would have had questions about such an early day while in the middle of such a complex investigation.
“Fine,” Hazel said, reaching for the bill as the server approached. To her surprise, Lev caught it before it touched the table.
“The man is always supposed to pay on the first date,” he said, a lilt in his tone. Hazel’s mouth dropped.
“This isn’t a date!” she sputtered as Lev dropped a couple of bills on the table and grinned at the waitress.
“Keep the change,” he told her, and the woman beamed at him flirtatiously.
“Thanks,” she murmured. Then she leaned down and murmured something Hazel barely heard. “You know, I’m happy to go on a date with you,” she breathed. Ire sparked through Hazel in a flash, the reaction startling her.
“Whenever you’re done,” she hissed, rising from the booth, “I’ll be at the car.” She turned to storm out of the diner, her mind whirling in confusion.
What the hell is wrong with me? she wondered furiously. This is not like me! What do I care if he’s flirting with the waitress? He can date the busboy for all I care.
As she reached the agency car, she felt a hand on her arm, and she wrenched herself back to glare at Lev.
“Ready to go?” Hazel snapped.
“Sure,” Lev agreed, his brow raised with interest. “Are you upset?”
“Why would I be upset?” she retorted, loathing herself for being annoyed. “I just have things to do.” She opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat.
“I’m assuming whatever it is you have to do has nothing to do with the Werewolf?”
“Is that a question or a statement?” Hazel demanded.
“I’m just saying,” Lev answered, “I would hope you know better than to go chasing leads without your partner.”
“You’re not my partner!”
Why am I yelling at him? She inhaled and closed her eyes, closing her fingers around the steering wheel before reopening them. Seeing the waitress so close to Lev had angered her more than it should have, but no matter how she tried, Hazel couldn’t talk herself down from it.
“I wouldn’t put myself in danger,” she concluded in a much calmer voice. “So of course I’m not going off by myself.”
“All right.”
“Did she give you her number?” Oh, had she just really asked him that? Out loud? With words?
Lev laughed before he could stop himself. “The waitress? No, of course not.”
“Why not? She seemed to like you. You married? Kids?” The questions fired out of her in rapid succession.
It’s a brain tumor, Hazel thought. I have a brain tumor. It’s the only explanation for why I’m acting this way.
“Do I detect a note of… upset in your voice?” Lev asked, the amusement in his voice unhidden.
“What the hell do I care if you cheat on your wife? What hotel are you staying at?” He studied Hazel with amused eyes, but to his credit, he didn’t say anything else, even though Hazel got the distinct impression he was dying to tease her. “What?”
“I didn’t say anything. You sure you don’t want some company on your errands?” She looked at him like he’d sprouted another head.
“Did you hear what I said about us being friends?” she snapped. “There’s no need for us to get too friendly.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I could be your chauffeur.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “I’m the one driving, remember?”
“Suit yourself. I’m staying at the Hyatt.” She blinked.
“Really? Who’s footing the bill for that?” And why was that any of her business? Did she have an off button? Why couldn’t she stop? She frowned as Lev’s grin widened. “Never mind,” she sputtered. “On Pine?”
“Yep.”
Hazel pulled out of the diner and clamped her mouth closed, worried about what else might fall from her lips.
“I’m not married. No kids. Yet.” Lev smiled at her, but she purposely avoided his gaze.
“Then you should have taken the waitress’s number,” she mumbled.
“Nah,” he replied. “I’m a one-woman kinda guy.”
Hazel eyed him through her sidelong vision. So you have a girlfriend then. I hate her, too.
They drove the rest of the way in silence, and when Hazel pulled up in front of the hotel, Lev didn’t move.
“Are you waiting for me to open your door?” she asked in exasperation, but he shook his head.
“No. I’m just waiting to see if you’d changed your mind about me coming with you on your errands.”
Surprise colored her face, and for a brief second, she considered his words.
“No, thanks,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You going to pick me up?”
“Really? You don’t have a ride?”
“I do,” Lev answered. “But I like being driven around.”
Hazel groaned. “No. I am not picking you up. Have a good day, Agent Kirk.”
“You too, Hazel.” Lev opened the door as she scoffed at his familiar use of her name and slammed the door, waving at her as she drove off.
Without wasting a second, Lev made his way into the parking garage after Hazel drove off and got into his own truck. He reached for his phone as he moved, digging it out of his pocket. The GPS he had placed in her badge was active, and he sat in the driver’s side for a long moment, watching to see where she was going.
She’s going to be more difficult than I thought, he realized, his eyes trained on the phone as Hazel made her way back toward her own apartment.
He sat in the Dodge Ram for a long moment, debating what to do next. He’d been half convinced that she was going to search for leads on the case, so noting that she was going home was a bit of a surprise. He didn’t want her to catch him poking around her neighborhood, but being apart from her was proving to be harder than he had expected.
Like all Lycans, he knew what the impact of being connected to his mate would do. His abilities were enhanced—he could feel it already. What Lev hadn’t been prepared for was the overwhelming desire he had to touch her. He had physically restrained himself from reaching out to cup her face. He didn’t need to be told how she would react to being touched without invitation.
Of course he knew better than to do that. Eve
n placing his hand on Hazel outside the diner had caused electrical surges through his body that he’d never known in his life. What he couldn’t know was if she felt the same. Instinctively, he knew she must, but Hazel had not reacted to reflect the way he had felt in the least. She was a lot harder to read than anyone he’d ever known.
I need to give her space, he thought logically, even when his gut told him to go to her. And Lev was far too primitive a creature to ignore his instincts.
Without giving himself another minute to consider his actions, he pulled out of the garage and headed toward Hazel’s apartment building. She might not know what she was or who she was to him, but she would. And when she was ready, he would be there for her.
When Landon Burke had first approached him with the task of finding Hazel and protecting her, he hadn’t given it much thought. Landon had asked him to do many things over the centuries and Lev had never questioned the councilman once. He was respectful enough of Landon Burke and his position on the Council of Seven—the governing body of the Enchanted—to accept that whatever the leader demanded was for a good reason.
It wasn’t until a few weeks after he’d started his surveillance on Hazel that Lev realized there was something much different about this charge, something he couldn’t quite understand. Even without actually meeting her in the flesh, Lev could sense that he needed to know her.
From there, it was clear that Landon had commissioned him with watching out for his own mate. They were both FBI agents, which was as close to fate as Lev could have hoped for. While many Lycans were in law enforcement, few ventured that deeply into the government. The risk that the Enchanted would be exposed was far too great, and while there were some fairies who dared partake in government affairs, Lycans were notoriously unpredictable, particularly near the tide changes.
Then again, Hazel had not always been a Lycan. Gabriel, the Lycan who had illegally turned her, had not shown his face anywhere near Hazel, as far as Lev could tell, and he was beginning to believe that the four women he had unsuspectingly turned weren’t in any danger—for now.
Whether Gabriel had been scared off by the heat of knowing Landon was on his trail or if he was simply onto other matters with his rogue pack, Lev couldn’t say. All he was fairly confident about was that Hazel was safe.
And she could be safer if she’d just open her eyes and see what’s in front of her, he thought. Me.
He parked his truck in the visitor parking spot and retrieved the phone to check on Hazel’s location again. It showed that she was apparently in her unit. Lev certainly had the means to tap her place, but there was a huge line between protecting her and stalking her. Connected to him or not, she was entitled to her privacy. Whatever Hazel gave to him had to come willingly and not through coercion.
For the time being, all Lev could do was wait and make sure she didn’t get into any trouble. It had taken a year to secure his spot as her partner, and he was as close as he was going to get—until Hazel let her guard down.
With a big sigh, Lev settled back and pushed the seat back.
Thankfully, I’m a patient being, he told himself even as his stomach flipped with impatience.
4
Julip hissed at Hazel and sulked away, and Hazel plopped onto the couch, her cell in hand.
“Oh, stop it,” she snapped at the feline. “I pay rent here, remember? I pay for your food?”
Julip ignored her and claimed a spot a few feet away to glare at her hatefully. Hazel wondered if the cat contemplated her death sometimes. Again, she tried to remember when he’d started to hate her so much.
That’s totally the way I would go out, too, she thought. I could see the headlines. ‘Twenty-Nine-Year-Old Spinster Eaten Alive by Her Cat.’ I’d like to think I’d go out in some heroic way, but I won’t.
Automatically, her mind traveled to her new partner, and she found herself wondering what it would be like to cohabitate with someone like Lev Kirk. She wondered if he liked cats and if Julip would like him.
A pang of wistfulness touched her heart, and Hazel shoved it aside as she scrolled through her contact list for her doctor’s number.
This is the life you chose for yourself, she reminded herself. You’re happy alone. And you’re not alone. You have a cat.
As if on cue, Julip growled at her. Hazel sighed and dialed out, forcing herself not to think about it. Maybe she was more of a dog person.
“Dr. Whitby’s office?”
“Hi, this is Hazel Carrington. I’d like to make an appointment with the doctor.”
“All right, Ms. Carrington. What is the reason for the appointment?”
Here’s the moment of truth now, Hazel thought. I should hang up. This is stupid. I’m making a big deal out of nothing.
“Ms. Carrington? Just a check-up?” Hazel shoved aside all her doubts and answered.
“No. I’ve been having memory loss…” She trailed off, wondering if she should mention the voices in her head. She reasoned that one display of weakness was more than enough. There was no need for the receptionist to know more than that.
Alarm filled the receptionist’s next words. “Have you been in an accident recently? Hurt your head?”
“No, nothing like that,” Hazel muttered, humiliation coloring her cheeks. “It’s… it’s probably nothing.”
I’m probably just losing my mind. Don’t worry about it, she added silently.
“Dizziness? Shortness of breath?” the receptionist prattled on. “Any vomiting?”
“No, no. It’s…” Hazel didn’t continue. She didn’t want to discuss all the details with anyone, let alone the receptionist. If she was going to do that, she might as well go on Web MD and get a diagnosis. “Can I just make an appointment?”
“Yes, of course, Ms. Carrington. I just want to ensure you’re not in any state of emergency. How long has this been happening?”
Hazel swallowed, foreseeing the reaction she was going to get with her answer. “About a year.”
“A YEAR?” She had to pull the phone away from her ear.
“It hasn’t been consistent. It’s happened maybe a handful of times, and I’m not even sure it’s anything—” Hazel started to defend herself, but she was cut off midsentence.
“Can you come in today at five-thirty?” The question took her aback.
“Don’t you close at 5?” Hazel asked slowly, thinking of an excuse not to go.
“Did you want to see the doctor or not?”
Not really. I want to just continue with my life like always, but I don’t really have a choice, do I?
“I’ll be there,” Hazel mumbled.
“Ms. Carrington, if you start vomiting or have shortness of breath, you must present yourself to an emergency room.”
“I will, but I won’t,” Hazel grunted. “Thanks.” She disconnected the call before the receptionist could offer any more advice and sat on the couch, staring at her phone.
Did I ever have friends? she wondered. People to call when I was scared or feeling alone?
It was a dumb thought. She was Hazel Carrington. She was never scared, nor did she ever feel alone. Friends were a weakness in themselves. It was too easy to get caught up in their drama and problems. She had enough to worry about without other people’s issues.
“I have you, right, Julip? You’re a big enough pain in my ass.” There was no response from the feline. On a whim, Hazel called Ortiz. He answered almost right away, and she wondered if he missed her as much as she co-dependently missed him.
“Ortiz,” he grunted into the phone, and Hazel felt a deep relief, hearing his voice.
“How’s it going in San Fran?” she asked without preamble, rising from the couch to pace around the living room. Suddenly, sitting still was impossible. This wasn’t a social call, after all. She was back in work mode.
“It’s definitely the Werewolf,” Ortiz replied, and Hazel sighed. She had expected as much, despite her lecture in the debriefing that morning. She simply hadn’t wanted
to jump to conclusions.
You’re doing an awful lot of wishful thinking these days, she thought.
“Great. We have another Ted Bundy on our hands,” she said aloud.
“Seems that way. Again, no signs of struggle, no forced entry. This guy makes his victims trust him somehow and then kills them. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“What does your coroner say?” ‘His’ coroner. Great. Hazel was already thinking of Ortiz as being gone permanently. Idly, she wondered what it would be like to have Lev Kirk as a partner full-time. Inexplicably, shivers slid down her spine. More wishful thinking, perhaps?
“The medical examiner is as stumped as we were by what was used to make the puncture marks. She’s sure they are teeth, but of what animal, she can’t say,” Ortiz continued. “Same deal as there.”
“It’s something meant to look like teeth,” Hazel retorted. “That’s why we coined him the Werewolf, remember? He’s trying to throw us off, unless he’s using an animal as a weapon.”
“Well, he’s doing a great job,” Ortiz grumbled. “This team is disorganized, too. I wish you were here to set them straight. They wouldn’t know what to do with you here. How’s the suit?”
A blush crept its way up Hazel’s cheeks as she thought about Lev, and a small smile touched her lips.
“He’s okay,” she replied, surprising herself. Ortiz inhaled sharply but said nothing. “What?” Hazel demanded. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s okay?” Ortiz scoffed. “Are you kidding? The last time I heard you say anything was ‘okay’ was that four-hundred-dollar wine Castillo popped open last Christmas.”
The disbelief in his voice was warranted. Ortiz had undoubtedly been expecting a diatribe about the new guy, but Hazel couldn’t bring herself to talk badly about Lev.
“Oh, come on!” she protested. “I’m not that miserable. I pay compliments where they’re due!” Didn’t she?
“Don’t change the subject. Tell me about the suit. Have you replaced me already?”
“He’s fine,” Hazel offered, knowing how lame it sounded to her own ears. “He’s nice, and of course I haven’t replaced you. We’re partners, remember?”