She forced a faint smile. “No, I’ll stay.” Sitting at home, she’d just worry all the more. It was better to keep busy. Besides, if she saw Kellen right now, she might be tempted to kill him! Squaring her shoulders, she tried to look unconcerned. “It might be nothing, but I’ll talk to Kellen tonight about missing work and see what’s going on.”
The manager gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze before opening the door. As she stepped back into the store, Cassie mentally berated Kellen. What the hell had he done now?
*****
Chicago, Illinois, USA...
“Anything else to report, Swanson?” Leon Aldrich rasped out the words to the security guard that stood before him.
“I’ve changed the access codes for the elevator and notified authorized personnel. The surveillance cameras have also been repositioned near the parking garage, and I’ve completed the weekly report.” Swanson set the folder on Aldrich’s desk and then folded his hands behind his back.
Picking up the report, Aldrich quickly flipped through it before setting it aside for closer scrutiny later on. He nodded in approval at Swanson’s stance; shoulders back, eyes straight ahead, quietly awaiting instructions. The man was built like a tank—sturdy, all muscle, no neck—and with his military buzz cut and blank expression, he was intimidating as hell. Perfect for the job.
Swanson was former military. His record while in the service was less than pristine, but the man was effective. He also wasn’t above turning a blind eye to certain activities if the price was right. Aldrich could appreciate that in a man; it was a quality he himself possessed and had used to his advantage throughout his life.
As a matter of fact, it’d got him where he was today. As executor of the Greyson estate and the respected lawyer of the late Anthony Greyson, he had power and wealth; those two combined to open doors that led to the exalted realms of the socially elite. He’d learned that from Anthony Greyson. True, society’s blue bloods might not approve totally, but they didn’t want him as an enemy so they fawned and simpered while turning a deaf ear to any of his less ‘socially acceptable’ dealings.
Swanson was still waiting patiently and Aldrich smiled inwardly while keeping his face blank. It wouldn’t do to let Swanson know of his approval. Employees functioned most effectively when they weren’t completely sure of the employer’s opinion of their work. An edge of uncertainty kept them on their toes. Greyson had taught him that as well.
Quirking an eyebrow, he questioned Swanson, keeping his tone neutral. “And the issue with the neighbouring buildings?”
“We tested your theory about the surrounding rooftops and the chance of a telescopic rifle being used. The correct angle would be difficult, but it is possible. I recommend heavy blinds be installed and kept drawn on all the windows facing to the north and east. Those on the south and west sides are safe since none of the buildings are tall enough to give a good shot.”
“Very well. Tell Ms. Matthews what's required and she will order it.”
“Very good, sir.”
“And what about Mrs. Robinson, my latest nurse?”
“I’ve run a security and background check on her again, once a week as you requested. It’s still clean. She’s exactly what she claims to be; a private nurse, widowed for ten years.”
Aldrich nodded pleased to learn that the woman who cared for him was as trustworthy as his gut was telling him she was. His instincts were seldom wrong about people. “Excellent. She’s very good at her job and seems content to simply carry out her duties, unlike some of the other nurses I’ve employed.”
“Very true, sir.” Swanson kept his face expressionless. “You did seem to have a string of bad luck with the previous women.”
Rubbing his chin, Aldrich thought of the previous nurses he’d hired; annoying, lazy, money-hungry... None had lasted very long. It was nice to know that finally there was someone suitable filling the position. Sylvia Robinson was a godsend in his opinion; almost too good to be true. He allowed a faint smile to curve on his lips as he considered her before refocussing on the tasks at hand.
“Now, what about your report on Ms. Matthews? You indicated she had stopped at a house three weeks ago after leaving the Greyson Estate. Did you find out who owns the home?”
“It belongs to Albert Winters. He’s an antique dealer of some renown, though his methods of acquisition have come under scrutiny at times. However, nothing has ever been proven against him; just rumours in certain circles.”
“Indeed.” Aldrich made a moue, then nodded slowly. “Thank you, Swanson. I’ll consider this information and then let you know how I want you to proceed. Dismissed.”
Once the man left the room, Aldrich leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The effort required to project his voice and regulate his breathing made conversation tiring. He reached up, touching his throat where the tracheotomy tube was situated and adjusted the silk scarf he used to cover the opening.
Damned werewolf! He curled his fingers into a fist. The beast had nearly killed him, but Leon Aldrich was a survivor. Despite having his throat crushed and his vocal chords mangled, he was still around. True, he struggled when talking and needed a trach tube to breath, but it was better than being in a coffin.
Even after three years, he could still remember the feel of the wolf’s paws hitting him full force in the chest, knocking him to the ground. For a brief second, he’d locked eyes with the beast, sensing its murderous hate. Then, as if in slow motion, he’d reached up and grabbed at its neck, trying to push it away. His efforts had been futile. The wolf had possessed unbelievable strength. Its breath had been hot against his skin just before pain erupted as the creature sank its teeth into his flesh, snarling and ripping...
Aldrich sat up straight, shuddering at the memories that still haunted him. Running a shaking hand over his face, he forced himself to calm down. He was safe in his self-made fortress. The guards he had hired did an excellent job protecting him against any threat... Well, any human threat.
Life would be simpler if he could just inform them to be on the lookout for werewolf assassins, but of course that wasn’t possible. Should he ever reveal what he was truly afraid of, he’d be locked up in an insane asylum so fast his head would spin. No one really believed in werewolves. Well, no one except himself and the late Anthony Greyson.
Just before Greyson’s accidental death, the man had revealed an obsession for finding a werewolf pack. Now, a lawyer of his repute would normally have scoffed at the old man’s preposterous idea if it wasn’t for one simple fact. He, Leon Aldrich, had observed a young woman named Melody Greene actually turn into a wolf just hours before.
So yes, he knew werewolves existed, but he had no proof to substantiate his claim; the one picture that might have added some veracity to his story had mysteriously disappeared, much to his ire. Therefore, keeping his own counsel was the best course at this point in time. That wasn’t to say he was willing to forget the whole incident. In fact, he was actively conducting research on the supposedly mythical creatures; a thorough knowledge of an opponent always made for the best defence.
That the wolves would attack again, he had no doubt. Greyson had been babbling about some werewolf law called the Keeping just before he died. Since then, carefully sifting fact from fiction had revealed such a law did exist and called for the elimination of any human who discovered the truth. With this in mind, Aldrich took every precaution to keep the beasts at bay. If he now had to live the life of a recluse, so be it. One day he would triumph over them; he had plans in place.
A flashing light caught his eye; he’d had all calls held while he talked to Swanson. Activating his voice mail, he picked up a pen in preparation for taking any salient notes.
“Hey, Aldrich! This is Nate Graham.”
Aldrich grimaced when he heard the voice, despising the casual manner in which the man addressed him, but willing to overlook the fact, since the fellow did seem to be making some progress in straightening out the mess in Nevada
. Narrowing his eyes, he listened to what the man had to say.
Once the basic information had been delivered, Nate began his usual whining for more money. “I’ll get back to you in a few days and let you know how the situation develops. If you want me to keep working out here, then you need to finance it. I’m not sitting on a pile of money like you are. Talk to you later, Aldie.”
“Talk to you later, Aldie—indeed!” Aldrich shuddered at over-familiarity of the phrase, but made a notation to have Ms. Matthews take care of the financial matter. He’d known Nate back when they were both still little better than street rats. He’d risen above his lowly beginnings, but Nate continued to swim in the sewer. Ah well, it took contacts in all kinds of places to keep things running smoothly and Nate was good at leg work.
Turning his chair, he accessed his computer and pulled up the Nevada file; a leftover business venture from his early days. Several times, he’d considered letting the business go as it no longer suited his present image, but some quixotic bit of nostalgia had him hanging on to it. After all, Dollar Niche had been operating successfully up until Greyson’s death and his own hospitalization. Unfortunately, about that time, he’d let things slide, thinking the company was in competent hands. He’d been wrong. A steady drop in the profit margin had come to light during the last audit and Nate was investigating the source of the problem. Aldrich had his suspicions, but knew better than to act without cold hard facts.
He closed the Nevada file and turned to the electronic chess game he was playing. Steepling his fingers, he narrowed his eyes and played out the possible moves and countermoves he could take. He curled his lip as he sent out a pawn, knowing he was sacrificing it to save a more important piece.
Life was rather like a large chess game, he reflected, only the stakes were a little higher. In real life, the pawns were people rather than playing pieces, but they served the same purpose; eventually being forfeited in order to gain the main prize. And he would gain the main prize, no matter how many ‘pawns’ he had to sacrifice.
*****
Stump River, Ontario, Canada...
Bryan sat in the pack house office completely unaware of the bright sunshine that streamed in through the window heralding the start of spring. Nor was he aware of the piles of paper work stacked on the side of his desk, the half eaten sandwich and now cold cup of coffee. Instead, he was transfixed by the e-mail displayed before him on his computer screen. A mixture of excitement and disbelief washed over him as he finished scanning the text.
“Hey Ryne! Come look at this!” Bryan called over his shoulder, knowing the Alpha was in the house somewhere.
A minute later, Ryne strolled into the room with Mel, his arm wrapped possessively around her slightly thickened waist. He was nuzzling her neck. “What’s up?”
Bryan looked at the two of them; watching as Ryne nipped Mel’s neck and she made an appreciative noise in her throat.
“Er...did I interrupt something?”
“Not yet.” Mel grinned and ran her fingers through Ryne thick black hair, then trailed them down his chest towards his belt buckle.
The Alpha growled and clamped his hand over hers. “Behave.”
Tugging at her hand, Mel tried unsuccessfully to free it. “I can’t help myself; raging hormones, you know. Besides, it’s your own fault for getting me pregnant.”
“It had better be my fault.” Ryne rubbed the slight swell of her belly. “If I ever found out you’d—”
“Me? You’re the one who had women draped all over him when we went to that show in Toronto a few weeks ago!”
“What can I say? I’m a chick magnet.” Ryne waggled his eyebrows and smirked.
“A chick magnet? More like a bit conceited.” Mel finally freed her hand and stepped away, looking at him with narrowed eyes.
“Hey! I’m just aware of my strong points and as Alpha—”
Mel rolled her eyes. “Oh, right. How could I forget that whole ‘you’re my supreme leader’ bit?”
Ryne pulled her closer and patted her on the head, then spoke in a condescending tone. “That’s all right, Melody. From what I’ve heard, becoming forgetful is all part of making baby-brains.”
Bryan groaned inwardly sensing another one of their infamous arguments. The two really loved each other, but sometimes...
“So what’s up?” Ryne quirked an eyebrow at him as Mel sputtered at his side, no doubt trying to think of a suitable retort.
“It’s about this e-mail that just came in. I might have some information on Cassandra Greyson.”
“Really?” Mel looked at him with interest, apparently forgetting her spat with her mate. Then just as suddenly, she winced.
Ever vigilant where his mate was concerned, Ryne immediately looked concerned. “Are you okay, Melody?”
“I’m fine. The baby just kicked, I think.” She blushed slightly and then began backing closer to the door. “I…I think I need to go to the bathroom.” With that she turned and scurried away.
Ryne watched her, shaking his head. “Pregnant women seem to live in the bathroom, and she gets upset about the strangest things.” He frowned as if trying to fathom the problem, then shrugged and turned back to Bryan. “So what did you discover about the Greyson girl?”
Bryan gestured to the computer screen. “Look at this. A werewolf named Robert Walker was on vacation in Vegas and thinks he’s found Cassandra Greyson. He wasn’t able to get any information on her, but he did take a picture using his cell phone. Does this look like her?”
Ryne leaned over, bracing his arm on the desk to examine the photo displayed on the computer screen. It was grainy, but... “Hey, I think that’s her! Zoom in a bit... Uh-huh... Uh-huh...” A slow smile spread over his face. “Yeah. I only saw her for a moment, but it looks like the same girl.” Straightening, he shook his head in obvious amazement. “If it is her, we’re damned lucky. After all this time, and only having a description to post rather than an actual picture, it’s amazing anyone made the connection.” He paused and rubbed his neck. “This was taken in Las Vegas you said?”
“Yep; in a grocery store of all places.”
“Hmm... That could work to our advantage.” Crossing the room, Ryne rifled through some papers on a shelf, then pulled out a map and spread it out on his desk. Bryan followed, leaning his hip casually against the corner of the desk as he stared at a map of North America. It showed all the packs and their respective territories.
Tapping the map with his finger, Ryne indicated the area in question. “There are other packs in the area, but as you can see, Las Vegas is considered neutral territory. Being a major tourist destination, it would be too difficult to constantly have wolves reporting in and signing out. If Cassandra is there, it will be a lot easier for you to bring her home; no Alphas making you wait while they contact me for confirmation and no paperwork to be processed, either.”
“And we all know how efficient you are when it comes to paperwork.” Bryan quipped, trying to keep a straight face.
“I get the work done...eventually.” Ryne scowled at him before relenting under Bryan’s steady gaze. He gave a self-deprecating laugh. Everyone knew his strength was in leading, not administrative paper-pushing. “Anyway, paperwork aside; it was a clever place for her to hide. With visiting wolves leaving their scent everywhere, no one would pay any attention to one more being in the area.”
“When I went there to check out the ATM security footage three years ago, I thought I searched everywhere, but I never checked the suburbs or the grocery stores. I never pictured a rich girl choosing that as her hideout.” Bryan chuckled softly. “If this guy hadn’t become lost while sightseeing and his mate hadn’t made him stop to ask for directions, we’d probably never have found her.”
Ryne sat down, folded his arms behind his head and propped his feet on the desk. “It’s probably one for the record books; an heiress worth millions of dollars working as a grocery store clerk.” He paused and quirked one eyebrow. “You know what this me
ans, of course.”
Bryan could feel his wolf rising inside him, anticipation surging as the beast strained to be set free. He couldn’t totally suppress the grin that threatened to spread across his face. “I get to go hunting?”
“Uh-huh. Find the girl in the picture, determine if she really is Cassandra Greyson, and if it is her bring her back here. Once we’re sure of our facts, I’ll get on the internet and contact the Lycan Link network. They’ll make arrangements to slip her through Customs.” He gave a satisfied sigh. “It will be good to get this wrapped up before the pup is born. Rogue werewolves can be dangerous. You should have her in line by then.”
“She’s not exactly a rogue.” Bryan felt the need to qualify his Alpha’s statement. Rogues were loners with no packs, out for themselves and possessing no sense of duty towards the well-being of others of their kind. Some even teetered on the border of sanity, having no pack to keep them grounded. They could be unpredictable and often became a menace to those around them. Originally, that’s how he had viewed the Greyson girl, but the longer he’d searched for her, the more his opinion had softened. He frowned inwardly, not sure why that was.
Ryne frowned and began to enumerate the facts. “Cassandra Greyson might not be a rogue yet, but I’m sure it’s just pure luck. From what we’ve been able to determine, she was raised human. What does she know our ways? What type of control does she have over her wolf? You know as well as I do she’s a recipe for disaster. The girl is like a time bomb waiting to explode. And, since we’re the ones who discovered her, she’s our responsibility. The Finding clause is quite specific on that. It’s definitely a case of ‘finder’s keepers,’ whether you want to or not.”
Bryan nodded. He’d studied that particular part of the law several times over the past few years, knowing he would eventually be responsible for dealing with the young, untutored wolf. If a pack found a rogue or a lone wolf, it was their duty to deal with them in whatever way was deemed most appropriate; integration, relocation or, at worst, eliminating those who refused to comply.
The Finding Page 6