Stealing His Heart

by Bru Baker

  Spending the afternoon at Max’s parents’ house sounded wonderful, but Danny had things to do.

  “I’ve got a thing in the afternoon, but maybe for dinner?”

  “One taste and you’re addicted to Pinoy,” Max teased.

  Danny grinned at the double entendre, laughing when Max caught up a second later and grimaced.

  “Keep it family friendly, Torres,” Oscar said. He clapped Danny on the shoulder. “See you later, Danny. I’ve got to take your man to work.”

  Sloane leaned in as soon as they left the table. “So—”

  Danny shook his head. He didn’t want Max to know he’d hired a private investigator.

  He waited until he couldn’t hear Max’s heartbeat even when he strained for it before talking.

  “I’m meeting her today. She thinks she’s found Joss. If it’s him, he’s been living behind a Dumpster, so he doesn’t have the stuff with him.”

  “He probably sold it that night. I don’t think there’s any chance of you getting those gifts back, Danny.”

  “I’ve already replaced everything. I don’t care about the gifts—I want to make sure Joss is okay. He’s a good kid, Sloane. He wouldn’t have taken that stuff unless he had to.”

  She gave him a skeptical look. “Had to?”

  “Look, you don’t know what it’s like for these kids. He could have fallen in with a gang and been forced to do it for initiation. Or”—he leaned in closer, whispering—“he could have been forced by a witch or something. I know him. He’s had a hard life, but he isn’t a criminal.”

  “Except that he is, if your hunch that he broke into your apartment is right,” Sloane said. “You’re too trusting, Danny.”

  He knew he was. But he had to be. The kids he worked with were skittish and often dangerous. And most of them could scent a lie at fifty paces. They were good kids who’d been put in terrible situations. They had no reason to trust him, which is why he had to trust them. He had to be the one to bend because they couldn’t.

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  He wasn’t going to drag Sloane into this. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself—she could. But she’d stick out like a sore thumb, and he needed to blend in if he had any hope of finding Joss and actually getting to talk to him.

  “Thanks, but this isn’t really your thing.”

  She blew out a breath. “Thank God. I’m going to be spending the day at the library. Text if you need me? And it better not be for bail.”

  He laughed. “I’d call Max if I needed bail. Maybe he’d get a discount.”

  Her smile was practically feral. “So that’s progressing, then.”

  Danny shook his head. “Don’t be nosy.”

  “I don’t have to be nosy to know you two fucked,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You both reek. But you smell happy, so I’ll deal.”

  He was. Danny wasn’t sure he’d ever been this happy, actually. But he wasn’t going to give Sloane any more information than necessary. She was a terrible gossip, and things were too new with Max to share with the world. He wanted to have him to himself for a little while longer.

  “Are you heading straight to meet the investigator?”

  The waitress brought over the bill, and he signed it to his room and left her a hefty tip since they’d probably caused a scene with all their laughing.

  “I have barely enough time to swing by home and change,” he said. “Are you ready to check out, or are you spending the rest of the morning here?”

  “I booked a massage,” she said. “I usually do the morning after a social event with Uncle Daniel.”

  Danny should probably stop by and check on his parents, but that could take hours. Last night had been awful, and he was sure they’d be dealing with the fallout from it for weeks, if not months, to come. But they were adults; they could take care of themselves.

  They’d keep, but Joss might not.

  Chapter Ten

  AS the days passed and more and more robberies piled up, Max’s frustration at not being able to clue his partner in to the supernatural currents grew. They’d been called in to meet with the port authority this afternoon after a random sweep turned up a shipping container of stolen goods linked to Max and Oscar’s case. It was the best lead they’d had in the case, but it still didn’t tell them who was behind the theft ring or how they were picking their targets.

  “At least we know where they’re going now,” Oscar said as they walked out of the precinct. “That’s more of the puzzle than we had this morning.”

  The electronics had been found in a shipping container bound for Guangzhou that was registered as an empty shipment. The agent told them there had been an increase in empty containers heading back to China since the demand for scrap metal and other junk to mine for recyclable material had shifted from China to India.

  Oscar was unfailingly optimistic. Max had sat through the same meeting, and he had no idea how Oscar could think they were any better off. If anything, finding the shipping container was derailing their investigation.

  “Who knows, we might be able to tie this up tonight. You ready for a good old-fashioned stakeout?”

  No, he really wasn’t. Six hours in a van with Oscar’s beef-jerky farts was enough to try the resolve of any man. Besides, there was zero chance whoever filled that shipping container was returning for it. The port authority had left it where it was in the hopes the thieves would be back with more goods to finish filling it, but Max knew better.

  Customs and Border Protection might have been discreet in its investigation, but agents had entered the shipping container. When Max and Oscar had visited the scene in plain clothes, he’d known the shipping container would be a dead end.

  It had reeked of ozone, the telltale smell of heavy magic. He’d bet his detective shield that the thing had been warded to the gills. The witch would have known the moment CBP touched it.

  At least it had confirmed his suspicion that there were Supes involved. One witch couldn’t have set wards that strong. Not without help.

  Oscar had been glued to his side since the task-force meeting, so he hadn’t had a chance to call Jackson to get his take on things. With both of them working the Supe angle, they’d turn something up sooner or later, but Max didn’t have time to waste. The first death had opened a seal of sorts—the ring was getting more violent and less cautious, which was not a good thing. They’d taken two more victims, security guards at a warehouse that had been hit yesterday. Homicide was chomping at the bit to take over the investigation completely, and Max was running out of reasons to stop them.

  Small crimes were surging too. Burglaries like Danny’s had increased 60 percent, and tourists were getting mugged for their cell phones left and right. Something had to be done, and soon.

  “The shipyard is loaded with cameras, and these guys managed to get that shipping container half-filled without being caught on any of them. What makes you think we’ll be any more successful?”

  Oscar pulled away from the curb, snaking out into traffic with barely a glance in his mirrors. Driving with Oscar always gave Max heartburn. At least he knew he’d heal if Oscar crashed—he shuddered to think what Oscar’s human partners had thought of his driving.

  “You, buddy. I’ve never worked with anyone who is as freakishly good at sniffing someone out as you are.”

  Max sent him a sideways glance, but Oscar was staring straight ahead. He’d been with Oscar since his promotion, and he’d been ridiculously careful not to out himself as a Supe. He scented the air surreptitiously. Oscar didn’t smell scared or wary. It must have been a figure of speech.

  “Eh, I’m fresher than you,” Max teased. “I’m still trying to prove I deserve my shield.”

  Oscar was five years older and had made detective a year and a half ago. It was a tired joke between them, but Oscar laughed anyway.

  “I heard about you when you were on patrol, you know,” Oscar said. “That deli robbery? Everyone on the force talke
d about that one.”

  Max had been off duty when he’d heard gunshots six blocks away. He’d made it to the deli before the asshole had even cleared out the till. He hadn’t given it a second thought—he’d charged in wearing a T-shirt and running shorts and had the guy on the ground in ten seconds flat.

  He’d been new to the job, right out of the academy. It probably would have been fine, but a columnist for the New York Post had been in the deli. Max had made the front page, and he’d taken an ungodly amount of ribbing for it. He’d also gotten an earful from his Alpha about toning down his abilities and not charging into situations like that unarmed.

  Supes flew under the radar, and front-page news stories about their bravery weren’t exactly subtle.

  “Yeah,” Max said, rubbing his neck as he looked out the window. “I was a bit of a hothead back then. Thought I was bulletproof. I got lucky.”

  He’d been shot in the shoulder last year, but he’d played it off. It had been a through and through, but he’d refused medical treatment on the scene and told his CO he’d been wearing a vest. He hadn’t because they weren’t standard uniform gear, but after that he’d purchased a thin Kevlar vest with his own money. He’d worn it religiously until his promotion. It would take a hell of a shot to kill him, but explaining away disappearing bullet holes was a nightmare he didn’t need.

  “We could use some of that luck on this case,” Oscar grumbled. “If it escalates any further, those dickbags from homicide are going to take it over. Heard Stephens talking about it in the breakroom.”

  Homicide was already involved. This thing had grown far beyond the two of them. They were lucky to still have a seat at the task-force table. But Max kept his mouth shut. Oscar smelled like jealousy every time he bitched about homicide. Max didn’t want to touch that with a ten-foot pole.

  “You want burritos for dinner?”

  Max grimaced. They were close to his favorite burrito joint, but he didn’t love being cooped up with Oscar for hours after eating there. The stakeout was already going to be a long, painful exercise in futility. He didn’t want to eat anywhere that would make it worse.

  “Thai?” Oscar suggested, correctly reading Max’s silence as disagreement. “Or that kebab cart?”

  Traffic was heavy, which meant they didn’t have time to stop and eat in anywhere. Whatever they got would be eaten in the van at the shipyard, and Max would be trapped with the scent of their empty containers for hours.

  “How about that sandwich place by my apartment?”

  They’d be heading right by it on the way. It was easy, they already knew both their orders, and it wouldn’t stink up the van too badly as long as Oscar didn’t order pastrami.

  “Oh, I see,” Oscar said with a snort. “You want an excuse to stop and say hello to lover boy.”

  He wouldn’t say no to seeing Danny. It hadn’t been that long since he’d seen him last, but he missed him like a physical ache. They’d been careful, sticking to blow jobs and hand jobs so things didn’t get out of control. Max didn’t want to give Danny the Alpha Mate bite accidentally. It would happen in the heat of the moment, sure, but he wanted to have Danny’s full consent before they took that step.

  They’d been spending nights together, alternating between his place and Danny’s. He’d been skeptical of Danny’s bed, given the shambles the rest of his furniture was in, but Danny had splurged on a mattress that was much nicer than Max’s. Fooling around on a memory-foam mattress had been a learning experience, but luckily he and Danny didn’t mind putting in enough practice to perfect it.

  “It didn’t even cross my mind,” Max said airily.

  “Sure it didn’t, buddy.”

  “ARE you sure it’s okay for me to be here?”

  Max looped an arm around Danny’s shoulder. “It’s a birthday party, Danny, not a top secret arms summit.”

  This was the first afternoon they’d both had off in a week, and Max wanted them to spend it together. His nephew probably wouldn’t even notice he’d brought a date, and if he did, it wasn’t like Anthony would care.

  His sisters were a different matter. Max tightened his arm around Danny’s shoulders when Tori let out a squeal inside and rushed to the door.

  “It’s so good to see you!” she said, elbowing Max out of the way so she could hug Danny. “Come inside! You met Kathleen and the kids at the Pack cookout, but Phil had to work. Let me take you out back and introduce you.”

  Max stepped inside after them, shaking his head. “A fine greeting for your Alpha,” he muttered.

  “Welcome, Oh Mighty Alpha,” she called in a singsong voice as she and Danny walked through the kitchen. “Thanks for bringing him!”

  He dropped Anthony’s present—he didn’t even know what it was; Danny had picked it out—on the stack of gifts and wandered into the kitchen to grab a beer. His father was shucking corn into a trash can and watching the Mets lose badly at home.

  “Can you believe this?” he asked, pointing toward the iPad with an ear of corn.

  Max rubbed his cheek against his father’s, scenting him. “To be honest, I can’t believe Ma let you bring that to watch the game.”

  His father sent a shifty look at the backyard. “Let me give you some advice now that you’ve found a mate, son,” he said. “It’s always best to act first and ask forgiveness later.”

  Max thumped him on the back. “There’s a reason the couch carried your smell more than your bedroom did when I was a kid.”

  “It’s called a strategic retreat!” his father called after him as Max took his beer outside. “That’s my second piece of mating advice for you!”

  Tori was hanging off Danny’s back when Max made his way over to them. Danny didn’t seem bothered, so he shrugged and handed him a beer. Phil was in the middle of a story that, if memory served, Max didn’t come out looking great in, and Ray and Eileen were eavesdropping from the other side of the yard, adding commentary when they thought Phil wasn’t telling the story right.

  There were human kids running around in the sprinkler, friends of Anthony’s from school and baseball. He’d have to yell at Eileen and Ray later. Though to anyone else it would look like they were having a quiet conversation by themselves. Still, they weren’t setting a great example for the kids.

  No one other than family was here from the Pack. Partly because they’d be having another party for Anthony next week at the monthly Pack gathering, and partly because the young kids wouldn’t be able to handle the excitement without a few slips. Until age four or five, the kids in the Pack shifted back and forth fluidly, mostly based on instinct as they learned how to navigate the world both on four paws and two feet. Kind of like how bilingual children switched between their two primary languages when they spoke, mixing up the vocabulary. It was adorable, but it also wasn’t something you wanted to happen on a crowded street or at a twelve-year-old’s birthday party.

  Max didn’t interject anything, letting his siblings tell their story. He was content to be there with them, even when Danny laughed so hard he dropped Tori.

  “It sounds like you were a handful when you were a cub,” Danny said after Max had helped Tori up. “I bet all of you were terrible. Your poor mother.”

  “Ma’s a saint,” Phil said. “You’ll understand when you have cubs of your own. Danny, you have no idea what you and Max are in for. Kids are the worst.”

  Max hadn’t fully digested his words before Danny’s heart went nuts, loud even in the noisy backyard. He looked over, alarmed, before he caught drift of Danny’s scent. It was similar to the smell of Oscar’s jealousy, but lighter. Barely there, like a whisper of a thought. If he had to catalog it, Max would call it yearning, mixed with an intense smell of sadness.

  Did Danny think Max didn’t want cubs? That couldn’t be further from the truth.

  “We haven’t exactly talked about cubs yet,” Max said dryly, trying to deflect their attention from the hot blush on Danny’s cheeks. “Let’s not chase away my Alpha Mate befor
e we finish the bond, hmm?”

  He didn’t think that was a big risk. Not if he’d interpreted Danny’s scent right. They’d only known each other a few weeks, but it was easy to imagine having cubs with Danny. They hadn’t had a serious discussion about what their future would look like if they accepted the Alpha Mate bond, but he was relieved to know Danny wanted cubs too.

  Kathleen came out of the house a moment later with an enormous cake. She put it on the table and quietly asked for help getting the guests up to the deck so they could sing to Anthony. Phil took off for the sprinklers and Tori went to help her light the candles, leaving Max and Danny alone in the yard.

  Danny leaned forward and buried his face against Max’s T-shirt. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  Max stroked the back of his head. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you want kids.”

  “I’ve always planned to adopt a Supe kid. There are so many who need a family,” Danny said, his voice still muffled by the fabric. “But you’ll need an heir. Someone to pass the Alpha spark to. So our kids will have to be shifters.”

  Max nudged Danny until he looked up at him. “I’d love to adopt, and I don’t care if our kids are shifters or not. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Phil said cubs—”

  “That’s just kind of a Pack default word for kid.” Max brushed Danny’s hair out of his face. “I don’t need a biological child. We’re decades out from me choosing a successor. I’m sure my nieces and nephews will have plenty of children. Our next Alpha needs to be a binturong shifter, but I’ll have a whole Pack to pick from.”

  Danny’s smile was electric, and Max couldn’t help but grin back. They hurried over to the throng near the deck when the singing started, and by the time a thoroughly embarrassed Anthony had blown out his candles, Danny’s scent was back to normal, no yearning or sadness to be found.

  They ate cake and played games until the kids started to disperse a few hours later, leaving in little clumps until the only people left in the backyard were family.

  “You have a good birthday, my man?” Max asked Anthony as they picked up paper plates and cups.