by JJ King
“Do you think he is intelligent enough or strong enough to have gained his grandfather’s approval and confidence? Benson Wellington senior trusts very few people. I’m shocked he trusted his son enough to grace him with the name, let alone a third-generation.”
I considered, even though I wanted to jump to conclusions about the ass hat. He wasn’t dumb, I knew that, but he led with bravado and brute force, so I had no way to be sure of his intelligence and deviousness. I shook my head. “I don’t know him well enough. Bash would, though. Headmistress Donahue, too.” The Headmistress struck me as a woman who noticed the truth about people rather than just seeing the gloss they wore like masks.
Sylvie nodded. “Well, while I doubt Wellington would share any real plans he had with his grandson, we do have to look into the possibility that the boy knows more than he divulged. But,” she continued, looking directly at me, “if he is wrapped up in whatever that man is planning, we don’t want to tip them off. He still has no idea you heard his private conversation, right, Elena?”
I nodded.
“Who were the others he was talking to?”
“Chaz Cartwright and Donavan Boucher,” I said immediately, having dredged their names from my memory in anticipation of the question.
Pens scratched on paper, noting down the guys’ names. I went back to fidgeting beneath the table.
The conversation moved away from me, thankfully, and onto various other conspiracy theories based on the knowledge they presently had. From what I could gather, The Sisterhood had been frantically pulling in favors and scrambling to round up information on the women who had been murdered and those who had been kidnapped in the hopes of creating a foundation of where to take the investigation.
I’d watched enough episodes of CSI and read enough JD Robb books to know that it was important to know the victim if you wanted to find the perpetrator.
I couldn’t help with that side of things; I hadn’t known the women personally and wasn’t up to date on the social or political fine points of our society. I’d been taking lessons from Sylvie for months now, but there is just too much history to cover to have a firm grasp on it so soon. My frustration searched for something I could contribute and landed firmly on Benson Wellington III.
I was the only one here that had a personal connection to him. He hated me with the fiery passions of hell, which meant he probably wouldn’t be very gracious, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t get something out of him. Sylvie had mentioned the danger of tipping off the grandfather by poking into Benson’s involvement, but surely, I could get something out of the asshole without raising any red flags. I turned the idea over in my mind, considering how I could stage a run in that would look innocent. I didn’t know much about him beyond the fact that he’d threatened Rory more than once and was a world-class shit, but I had friends who would have the whole scoop on him.
It made me feel useful, the thought that I could potentially contribute something more to the cause. When all eyes had been on me, waiting for information only I could give, I’d felt pressure and nerves, which had made me feel nauseous, but even that had been better than the feeling of uselessness I had sitting here. I looked around the table and at the people on the computer screen and wondered how they did it. There was pain, and fear, and unimaginable anger in each of them, but they were all business now. Even Rose, who’d never been trained to be a member of an Alpha family, was ready and able to focus all the negative energies in the room on the single goal of finding justice for those women.
My mind wandered again, slipping away from the present to skim over my memories of the last year. Like Rose, I hadn’t had the training Sylvie, Katherine, and the LaFlamme men had. Even Daphne, who’d been born and raised in Newfoundland, like me, had spent the last decade of her life working alongside Jacob Little Foot, honing her skills in the face of stress and urgency. I studied Rose in the way she leaned into the table, engaging in the conversation, her face alight with passion and razor-sharp focus.
She’d found her place in this world, obviously, while I was still struggling to get my feet under me. Fake it till you make it; I repeated my personal mantra in my head and forced my attention back to the topic at hand.
“There’s not a whole lot we can do until we get those reports in,” Anthony said with a frown that made him look even more like his deceased father. I wondered if it was comforting to Sylvie to see so much of her late husband, the previous Alpha of Canada, Pierre LaFlamme, in her eldest son. It had been the furthest thing from comforting to see my eyes looking out at me from my psychotic uncle’s face.
“Okay,” Sylvie said with finality that indicated the end of this war council. “We each know what we have to do. Katherine,” she added. “Your transport should be there soon. I’ll see you, Rose, and Daphne soon and boys,” she addressed her sons, each Alphas in their own right. “We’ll meet again tomorrow with updates and, hopefully, some good news.” Her screen went blank, followed immediately by Anthony’s, Ronan’s, and Tegan’s. Katherine closed the laptop and scanned the faces at the table.
“You heard the boss,” she said with a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Let’s grab our things and meet the chopper.” Katherine glanced at me and blinked, as if just registering that I was still here.
The acid in my stomach bubbled to life.
“Elena,” she said, pushing up from the table and gathering her notes. “I know this is a lot, but it’s good that you were here. We’re not going to cut you out of the loop, I promise. You’ll be included in our meetings. Are you alright with that?”
I swallowed and nodded, then added, “yes,” when I realized she wasn’t looking at me. She had a lot more than me on her mind, so I didn’t blame her. I resolved to face down Benson and pull something useful out of his moronic brain so this overwhelming feeling of uselessness would ease up, even just a little.
I stepped back, out-of-the-way, and watched as the three women gathered their things as quickly as possible and headed for the door, then nodded at each of them and murmured,” stay safe,” before turning towards my dorm so I could rope my friends and mate into an undercover operation.
And stopped dead when I saw Connor waiting for me at the end of the hallway.
Chapter 14
“What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped, immediately going on the offensive. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been concussed and had kissed me. I bit back the rest I wanted to snarl because his concussion had been my fault.
He cocked an eyebrow in a way I’d once found irresistible but now found incredibly annoying.
“Suck it up, Princess,” he clapped back, surprising me. “The Sisterhood is under attack and they don’t need anything else added to their already extremely full plate. You will stay out of trouble,” he took a step closer and leveled his icy blue eyes on me. “I’ll make damn sure of it.”
My breath caught in my chest as he stalked closer, his lips pressed tightly together. He looked like a predator.
I could use a predator to keep me safe.
It took effort to swallow my pride, but I did. He was right. Viktor would certainly take this opportunity to plan an attack on my life. Dread shivered up my spine at the realization that the war council had missed a possible angle on the attacks. What if Viktor had staged them so he could use the upheaval to his benefit?
“Thank you,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. It didn’t feel forced, not now that I’d made that connection. And once I spoke to Sylvie about my fears, she’d agree that Connor was a necessary evil. It was time to put the past behind us and move the fuck on. “Sorry about slamming you up against a cave.” I moved past him, heading towards my dorm and my next step in this undercover op.
He fell into step beside me, never breaking stride, and murmured, “Sorry for kissing you.”
♀♀♀
I wasted no time in calling Sylvie to inform her of my realization and wasn’t in the least shocked when she confessed it w
as a possibility they were already looking into.
I called Bash but repeatedly got his message. He’d made plans to hang with his friends tonight after I’d gotten the call for The Sisterhood meeting, so I figured they were still out, or he was passed out after drinking way too much. I chewed on my lip and kept walking, wondering if I should postpone the mission until he was able to join.
No, I argued with my instincts. This “accidental run in” only worked if it seemed casual and nothing tipped Benson off to our purpose. Having Bash there would only spike the testosterone levels and start a fight. Benson underestimated me, being a simple woman, even though he knew of my gift. It would be far easier to weasel information out of him without another male around.
I wasn’t sure what to do about Connor, but I’d figure it out on the way.
Next, I called Rory, but when she didn’t answer. So, I called Daniella and asked her to meet me outside her dorm. I didn’t stop moving or planning or ignoring Connor. He’d wanted me to react to that little snide comment and I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. So, instead, I focused on my goal of rattling Benson’s cage until something came loose.
Connor slid into the shadows as we approached the building, probably checking for attackers, hiding in the bushes. I ignored him and walked up to Daniella who was waiting on a bench outside her dorm building, typing something into her phone. She looked up with a bored expression on her perfect face, which was still fully made up, even though she’d changed out of her party clothes into a pair of jeans topped with a fitted and expensive looking jacket.
“I didn’t expect you to be finished so quickly,” she said, pushing up to her feet. “What little covert affair are you pulling off at this time of the day?” Daniella glanced up at the rising sun and glared as if it offended her.
Since neither of us had gotten any sleep, I understood the reaction.
"Yeah," I said with a shrug. "I mean you don't have to help if you don't want to." I turned slightly away, sure she wouldn't give up an opportunity to work for The Sisterhood, even if it meant working through me.
I wasn't wrong. I'd only taken a single step forward when Daniella sighed.
"Alright," she said as if she were doing me some grand favor. "I'm in. Nothing better to do around here anyway."
Just then Connor reappeared beside me like a ghost, stealing Daniella’s attention. She glanced at him then away, then shifted to take a closer look. Her eyes narrowed and something flashed in their emerald depths.
"You must be the infamous Connor," Daniella said, cocking an eyebrow and tilting her head to the side to assess him. Her long, slow appraisal from his boots to the tip of his hair was judgmental as fuck and made me smile. We might not always get along when it was just the two of us, but whenever we were up against anyone else, Daniella had my back.
Connor waited until Daniella had sized him up good then grinned that slow, sideways grin that used to melt my knees. I'm not sure what it did to Daniella's knees, but it made her mouth fall open just a little.
"And you must be the Queen bitch," Connor replied, without breaking eye contact or giving any hint of emotion in his tone.
Daniella's chin lifted and the corners of her lips twitched then fell as she assumed a haughty glare. Anyone who didn’t know her would have been immediately intimidated, but I saw the amusement dance behind her eyes and nearly groaned.
I looked back and forth between the two of them, annoyed by whatever was going on and made a dismissive sound. "Okay," I drew the word out to get their attention. "Bash and Rory are off somewhere not answering their phones, so it's just us."
"And what exactly is the mission, 007?" Daniella said haughtily, finally turning her gaze back to me.
I smiled, liking her reference to James Bond. "The mission, should you choose to accept it, is to intercept Benson Wellington III in a completely natural looking way so that I can interrogate him without him realizing." I set my hands on my hips jauntily and grinned.
Daniella just stared at me. "You want me to start a fight so you can wrangle some information out of him?"
"Yup," I replied.
"Exactly what information do you need to get out of him?" Daniella asked, turning to walk down one of the paths. "His dorm is this way." She glanced back at Connor as I fell into stride next to her.
I considered the fact that Daniella and Rory hadn't been included in the war council but came to the immediate conclusion that they were as trustworthy with my secrets as anyone could possibly be. I could and would share every detail with them and Bash, and, I reluctantly admitted to myself, Connor. There was no use denying the fact that he was back, so he might as well be useful.
"Back before the plane crash," I started, knowing Daniella hated to talk about it but needing to give the conversation context. "Bash and I overheard Benson chatting with Chaz Cartwright and Donavan Boucher about The Sisterhood. Turns out Benson's grandfather is pretty important and has some serious hate for anyone not an old male wolf drowning in money. He made some insinuations that his grandfather had shared some plans to take The Sisterhood down a few notches. We're just going to go poke around a little without being obvious just in case he actually is wrapped up in something sinister and reports back to his grandfather." I shrugged. "It's more a mission to find out if he's ignorant or involved."
Daniella was silent for a long moment and blew out a deep breath. "Okay, so the challenge is to get him bragging about his importance in his grandfather's life so that he confirms or denies that he'd have information in the first place?"
I chuckled. "Basically. I figure with his superiority complex and how much he despises me, it'll be easy to provoke him to the point where he talks out of his ass. Plus, you're pretty good at pissing people off. You do your thing and I'll do mine." Just to make sure she knew I was joking, kind of, I bumped my shoulder into hers and grinned.
Daniella shot me a glare that was clearly amused than looked at the screen of her cell phone and winced. "You know I didn't sleep at all last night, right?" To punctuate her question, she yawned behind her hand
I understood why she hadn't been able to sleep. The horrific reality of what had happened to our Sisters would've kept anyone awake. I thought of the uselessness I'd felt during the meeting and even now and felt sorry for her.
"I know. I don't think I would've been able to sleep even if I'd gone back to my dorm room. I just need to do something, you know?" I knew she'd understand.
Daniella nodded. "Well, Benson usually has breakfast with his stooges right about now then he goes for a run. His buddies prefer picking things up and putting them down, so they go to the gym. It will be the perfect time to accidentally run into him." She made quotation marks on either side of her head.
"How do you know so much about them?" I asked, not sure I can remember my own schedule as well as she'd laid out Benson's.
Daniella shrugged. "I just have a knack for recalling details."
"You should join the Men in Black, then," I quipped as we approached the cafeteria. My stomach rumbled at the thought and smell of food and I wished I'd had the forethought to have breakfast or coffee before venturing out to 007 the hell out of Benson.
Daniella whirled around and stared at Connor, her eyes blazing. “What did you say?”
I gaped, having been lost in thought so much that I hadn’t heard him say anything. Daniella’s eyes glinted with wild emotion that I found more than a little surprising. She barely knew Connor. Maybe she was just projecting my annoyance of him like a good friend, which she was steadily becoming more of each day.
Connor crossed his arms over his chest and stood, hips apart, staring down at Daniella. I narrowed my eyes at them, wondering why they were being so weird. It was like watching feral cats face off against each other, all posturing, and hisses.
“I heard you mutter something under your breath,” Daniella said sharply, not backing down for even a moment. “What did you say?” She jutted her chin forward and put her hands on her hips
. The air practically thickened between them.
Connor moved forward, ever so slightly, putting his face close to hers and murmured, “I said you’d make the black suit look good.”
I stood back, feeling like an idiot or a voyeur, and eyed them. They were being weird, and we didn’t have time for it. I cleared my throat and stepped forward to push Connor back a full step. He went easily enough but kept his gaze locked on Daniella’s.
“Well, that was fun,” I said derisively, stepping between them so Daniella’s gaze snapped to mine. “Are you ready or do you want to square off a bit longer?”
She blinked, refocusing her eyes on me, then huffed out a breath and stepped around me. “Come on. We don’t want to miss out on our chance.”
“Okay,” I mumbled, rushing to catch up with her quick strides. I shot dagger eyes back at Connor and got a haughty look in return.
Just as Daniella had predicted, Benson and his friends left the cafeteria around ten minutes later and split up. We’d moved past the cafeteria building into the shadows of one of the mature elms, so he’d walk directly into us, thereby igniting the authentically bitter words we’d share. As discussed, Connor faded away, leaving just us girls to our evil devices and wiles.
Benson strode down the path with his head bent to his phone, ignoring everyone and everything around him, which worked perfectly for a plan. My skin jittered with anticipation as I ran the prompts I'd prepared to start this fight over and over in my mind. We had to be careful, so careful. If Benson was caught up in whatever his grandfather and his old cronies had planned, if that was anything at all, then he'd pick up on my suspicion a lot easier.
I'd gone over our bickering and outright fighting after the plane crash and was certain he'd have prodded me or Daniella with some kind of snide comment if he had actual chops to back up his bragging. But he resorted to posturing and general asshole behaviors, which meant one of two things; either he knew nothing at all, or he knew too much and was being careful.