Perfect Dark (The Company of Wolves Book 1)

by J. A. Saare

  "No, that's all we need for now." Noah grasped me firmly by the arm as he spoke, pulling me toward the elevator. "Thank you for your time."

  Noah kept his face toward Julian as he backed up.

  He didn't trust the male.

  I felt confused and edgy.

  When the elevator opened, Noah let me go and pushed me inside.

  Even then, he backed into the small space, keeping me behind him.

  I waited for the door to close and asked, "What is the matter with you?"

  "I didn't contact a vampire agent for an escort. I need to call Tom and give him a heads up. If Julian complains, this could put me in serious trouble."

  "How were you supposed to know a vampire owned the place?"

  "By checking."

  "Wait." I placed my hand on his arm as the elevator descended. "You didn't look at the business records? You're not sure if he is using an alias?" Vampires did that sort of thing all the time. When his jaw clenched, I knew he hadn't. As the silence lapsed, I also understood why.

  He'd been so focused on me, he'd let it slip.

  "We didn't interfere with his business," I reminded Noah. "We only asked a couple of questions."

  "Doesn't matter. Vampires have gotten extremely picky about their privacy."

  Dread lined my gut. "How private?"

  "He could have refused to speak to us. PBI protocol requires vampire agents be present to protect their own interests now."

  We exited the elevator and I said, "I didn't know."

  "That's my fault. A lot of things have changed. Several rules have been created or altered. I should gone over that with you before I took you into the field. Vampires and werewolves don't work together like we used to. There's a strict divide. Every element of our involvement with them depends on the case."

  I didn't bother asking about other shifters, fae, or magic-based creatures and occurrences. If changes had happened with vampires and werewolves, who were the only ones humans knew anything about, it definitely would have trickled down. No wonder Noah had been so protective. I'd only had two cases involving vampires in my youth. Both had resolved rather quickly and easily, as the matters didn't involve them directly. They'd merely been witnesses to separate werewolf altercations.

  Neither of them were anything like Julian.

  That alone felt frightening.

  We left Burlesque in a hurry, with Noah placing a call to Tom the moment we stepped outside. I listened as he explained the situation, apologized, and provided details. He didn't open the door for me, using the electronic key fob to unlock the truck. As I rushed to the vehicle and climbed in, I knew I had to visit Noah's office immediately. Not only could he get in trouble for a transgression, he could have gotten hurt.

  We'd entered Julian's domain without approval. The vampire could have started a fight if he felt threatened. Such a thing, to my knowledge, had never happened. But there was a first time for everything.

  The rules had changed.

  We're lucky we didn't walk into a nest.

  I studied Noah's profile, aware I had to step up a well.

  If I wanted him to watch my back, I had to watch his.

  I had serious homework to do.

  Chapter Thirteen

  We made it home, and I trudged up the stairs to the porch. I really didn't want to go inside. Before, I'd had a reason to steer clear of the pack. Now, I'd have to interact with them. The only silver lining came in the form of visiting Noah's office. If and when I told them I needed to go over the new rules and protocols, they'd have no choice but to leave me alone.

  I entered the living room and saw Tricia, Jonathan, Brady, and Mark seated on the enormous sofa facing the television. They had large bowls full of popcorn and were viewing what appeared to be an action movie. Brady and Mark didn't bother looking at me. Jonathan did but didn't say anything.

  "I left dinner on the counter," Trisha said, giving me a smile.

  That provided relief. No need to dive into pack politics.

  Yet.

  I followed Noah into the kitchen and went to retrieve utensils and plates as he uncovered the food. Then, I froze. This felt too normal, but then again, why wouldn't it? Noah and I had done this numerous times in the past. We'd come home after a case, heat up dinner, and sit at the table to talk and eat. He didn't seemed all that bothered, taking plates as I gave them to him. He piled the food high and handed them back so I could nuke them in the microwave.

  As I waited for the food to heat, standing at the counter, he went to the table and sat down. Then he pulled the notepad from his jacket and starting going over his notes. He felt embarrassed of his lapse, I didn't need a good sense of smell or my wolf to tell me that. When the food had been properly heated, I took the utensils and plates to the table and put them down.

  "We're missing something." Noah continued staring at his notes as he retrieved his fork and started eating. "What am I not seeing?"

  "About who?" We were working on two cases: Floyd and Peter.

  "Floyd," Noah answered. "His wife has been forthcoming about everything. She knew he visited clubs, she told everyone as much, but she never mentioned him visiting vampire establishments, or clubs that cater to kinky types. Tom said he'd pay her a visit tomorrow to ask about it."

  "You think he was lying to her?" I took a bite of Trisha's rigatoni with basil casserole. The dish tasted better than I remembered.

  "If he were someone else, I'd say yes. Maybe. Possibly. But his history and her openness indicate they were very real with each other. I don't understand why she wouldn't mention vampire clubs. Especially since the case is preternatural."

  "Well," I said, gazing at him. "She probably didn't think it was important. He wasn't changed into a vampire. What attacked her was a werewolf. She's probably focused on that aspect of the situation. I know I would be. It probably didn't occur to her to mention anything about Burlesque."

  "Maybe."

  I didn't bother him as he looked over things, making quick work of his food. I felt ravenous, and Trisha was more than an adequate cook. She created dishes that made everyone drool. I finished way ahead of Noah, cleaning my plate in minutes. I put my fork and knife on the plate and stood.

  "Do you mind if I use your office?"

  That got his attention. His chin lifted and his gaze met mine. "Why?"

  "I'd like to go over the new protocols you mentioned. You'd have them filed in the same place, right?"

  His brows lifted. He cocked his head. "You remember the file?"

  "How could I forget?" I grinned. "Stupid Shit for Werewolves."

  "That's the one." He seemed pleased by the response. The emotion was evident in his expression. He pulled his keys from his pocket and handed them to me. When I frowned in confusion, he said, "We baby-proofed the house. My office has a lock. You're welcome to look everything over, just make sure to return each file exactly as you found them."

  As I took the keys, I said, "I'm sorry about earlier."

  He pulled away, and I felt his tension. "Tom said he'd take care of it."

  I lowered my head and picked up my plate. I made sure to take it to the sink and clean off any remaining residue before I placed it and my utensils in the dishwasher. I started walking from the kitchen but glanced back. Noah had put down his fork and was flipping through the notepad. Something had stirred in his brain. He wouldn't stop until he figured out what.

  I exited the room and walked into the living room.

  No one looked at me, focused on explosions on the television.

  I kept quiet as I walked around the back of the room. When I hit the narrow hallway, I increased my pace and made it to Noah's office. I didn't know which key to use, but found the right one on the first try. When I entered, I flipped the switch beside the door, flooding the area in light.

  First, I took in Noah's scent. It was heavy in the enclosed space.

  Then I looked at the room itself.

  Nothing had changed.

  Noah like
d dark wood, which was prevalent in the room. He'd made the desk and bookshelves himself. The pictures of us, placed carefully on numerous shelves, remained. Several files were neatly stacked on top of his desk. I went to the filing cabinet and pulled the top drawer open. Shock tore through me when I saw the documents I'd need to read. The amount of files in the Stupid Werewolf Shit category had increased exponentially, and they weren't merely case files. These were neatly compiled rules and regulations that were sent to him each time a change had been made.

  I pulled newest one from the cabinet and went to Noah's desk.

  As I sat, I noticed a file in a red folder, which was unusual.

  I knew why when I opened it.

  The case inside was mine. Literally.

  And it was thick as hell.

  I was tempted to take a look but didn't. Not wanting to read or see anything negative about myself. Noah wouldn't have written anything severe, but other statements could have anything in them. He'd have written ones from each member of the pack, as well as Michael, Max, and everyone else who maintained contact with me after I'd fled.

  As I pushed my folder aside, I noticed two others.

  Floyd and Peter's cases were placed on top of each other.

  I decided to take another look at them.

  Nothing stood out.

  As time lapsed, I understood Noah's frustration.

  I decided to take two photos of the men from each file, in case I needed them for reference later. Noah usually did that sort of thing, but he'd already proven he wasn't as balanced as he should be. As I was putting them to the side, I noticed something in Floyd's file. The phone number to Burlesque. Noah had placed a sticky note beside the number, reminding himself to contact the business and do a background check before we went there.

  I felt horrible that he hadn't, taking the blame on myself.

  He could be in serious trouble for his transgression.

  A light bulb went off in my head. Maybe I could do something about it. Doubt trickled through me, however. If I made a call, it might not go smoothly. Then I'd have to tell Noah. I hesitated, staring at the number. There was a chance I could clean up the mess. I could directly blame myself for what had happened.

  It wasn't like I couldn't take the heat. My ass was already on the line.

  Mind made up, I used the landline phone on the desk, punched in the phone number, and wriggled in my seat as the call connected and the line rang.

  "Burlesque," a deep and professional voice stated. "How may I assist you?"

  "I'd like to speak to Julian Phoenix, please." I heard the nervousness in my voice. The man on the other end of the line must have as well.

  "May I ask who's calling?"

  I almost hung up, afraid I'd made a mistake. "Eleonora Carthy."

  I knew I'd messed up the minute I'd said it.

  Noah had introduced me as Eleonora Cameron.

  Shit.

  "Please hold."

  I considered hanging up then and there.

  The line clicked, and Julian's voiced came through the phone. "What can I do for you, Eleonora Carthy? Or do you prefer Eleonora Cameron? Or perhaps Mrs. Cameron? You must forgive me. I'm not certain how to formally address you."

  Double shit.

  "Eleonora is fine."

  "As you wish, Eleonora. How may I help you?"

  The vampire rattled me. He was too calm and composed. "I wanted to apologize for earlier." I had to bend the truth, and I hoped it didn't bite me in the ass. "I've been busy and didn't properly vet your business. I shouldn't have come without a proper liaison. I wanted tell you I'm sorry for the intrusion. It was unprofessional on my part. Nothing like that will ever happen again."

  He didn't respond right away, and I thought I was screwed.

  "Mr. Phoenix?"

  "Julian, please. If you wish to be informal, then so shall we both," he stated, calm as still water. "No apology is necessary. The lack of insight on your part is understandable, given the circumstances. I was pleasantly surprised to see you at Burlesque. You are more than welcome here."

  I didn't understand. "I am?"

  "Of course."

  I felt shaky and uncertain, having no idea what he meant by my circumstances, or why he felt I was welcome at Burlesque. I didn't want to insult him and tried to formulate an adequate question or response. Why would he want a werewolf at his business? He indicated my kind never came there. We weren't to his 'taste' as he'd so politely informed me and Noah.

  "What you did in New York is commendable. I applaud you for taking action. Others would not have done so."

  Oh dear.

  He'd seen the news. He knew who I was.

  He'd seen what I'd done at the bank.

  Michael warned me my face had been splashed on newspapers and the like, but so much had transpired in the last week, I'd nearly forgotten about it. I'd actually wanted to delete the incident from my mind altogether.

  I felt nauseous and embarrassed.

  "Eleonora, while I'm more than happy to speak with you, I do have a business to run. Is there something more I can help you with?"

  "I..." What did I say? What did I do. "I wanted to apologize."

  "No apology is necessary."

  "So you're not lodging a complaint?"

  "Why would I?"

  The conversation felt jolting and unexpected.

  There were only two words I could say. "Thank you."

  "You are most welcome. Is there anything else?"

  I didn't want to push my luck, so I said, "No, that's it."

  "Then I bid you good evening, Eleonora. If I can be of further assistance, don't hesitate to call."

  As I hung up, I sat in confusion.

  He wasn't going to report what had happened.

  He hadn't seem bothered.

  I wondered if I'd made things better or worse.

  ◆◆◆

  Several hours later, my eyes and head hurt.

  I'd taken in a ton of information, none of it pleasant.

  The rules had changed.

  Before, vampires and werewolf agents worked in harmony.

  Now, they only converged if necessary.

  I'd wondered why until I'd referenced a case involving a young werewolf male who'd become romantically involved with a vampire female. Both were in their teens, just coming into their abilities, and met on neutral ground in a human populated Nashville. Their romance had created tension on both sides. Such a thing was more than taboo, it was forbidden.

  With good reason.

  The male couldn't state with absolute certainty the female was his mate and, since vampires could be devoted to one partner but openly accepted and welcomed sexual relations with others, such a union would be a catastrophe of gargantuan proportions. A werewolf wouldn't let another male touch his female and, based on vampire history, that would eventually happen.

  Michael had met with the head vampire in Tennessee. A decision had been made. The girl remained with her people. The male stayed with his. But the youths defied the rules and ran away together. They were found in Colorado. Due to the situation, they'd been put down together. The event had been horrific and tragic.

  Not something I wanted to think about.

  I climbed up the stairs and entered the bedroom, but I stilled when I closed the door behind me. Noah sat at the edge of the bed and looked at me.

  "I'm exhausted, angel. I don't want to fight."

  I took a step forward. "About what?"

  "Anything."

  His weariness slammed into me. "Are you alright?"

  "No, I'm not." He inhaled deeply and said, "I need to be close to you. I need to hold you." His voice radiated heavy emotion. "I'll leave if you tell me to, but I'm asking you to give me this."

  His wolf called out to mine, and she answered.

  They came together as they once had, reveling in the connection.

  I stumbled, unsteady and off balance.

  Not only did his wolf need this, so did mine.
r />   He immediately took control, pulling his back.

  I became fully aware of what he needed.

  He'd kept himself in check for far too long. He didn't want sex. He didn't want to bend me over the bed and screw me silly. He required the calm and clarity my presence provided.

  I recalled how the evening had gone, reminded of Julian. Noah could have been hurt. Although he was strong and capable, he wasn't infallible. What if something happened to him? I thought of Steven and felt terrified of something similar happening to Noah. Time in the world was never promised. Moments people took for granted might not ever happen again.

  "I'll change," I told him, moving to the closet.

  I didn't look back as I rushed to remove my clothing and put on one of Noah's T-shirts, which fell to my knees. He'd take comfort in knowing I shared his scent. I'd already accepted he needed the wolfen part of me. He'd become too unbalanced without it. Closeness and touch would do wonders for him, especially if we rested on the bed and found sleep together.

  Werewolves were like that.

  It was the reason Trisha and Jonathan had come to me after Steven's funeral. Werewolves needed the contact of their kind, especially their mates, to soothe the savage beast. I returned to the bedroom and discovered he'd removed his clothes and climbed beneath the sheets.

  His exhaustion batted at me.

  He felt tired, overwhelmed.

  I didn't say a word, going to my side of the bed.

  I climbed in, and he swept his arm around my waist.

  I felt his desperation.

  He was starved for my attention and nearness.

  I guided him closer, bringing his body against mine. I'd situated myself higher than him, so he could rest his head at the hollow of my throat. I placed the top of my chin on his head and kept my arms around him. He exhaled, and I felt the heat of his breath against my skin.

  "Do you love me anymore, angel?"

  I stroked his hair, collecting my thoughts. "You know."

  The scent of uncertainty told me I was incorrect. "I don't."