by Vella Day
She leaned close to Sam. From his harsh expression, being near the Colter had him angry. “So?”
Sam looked down at her. “So? I’m working hard not to shift and rip out his throat.”
“Easy, big boy. We’re here to observe. Isn’t that what you told me?”
His jaw tightened. “Yes.”
While they’d already eaten dinner, Mac wanted to check out the food. “I’m going to walk around. This place is beautiful in a medieval sort of way.” The swords, maces, and spears as wall art wasn’t her style, but the man was good with sticking to a theme.
As she neared the tables laden with food, the hairs on her neck quivered. A werewolf was near. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Colters stuck together, and Medlock was one.
Not wanting to look obvious, she glanced around as she sampled some of the delicious smelling food. No one was making a beeline toward her, so perhaps it was a false alarm.
With her plate in hand, filled with fruit, roast beef, a roll, and two grape leaves, someone tapped her shoulder. “Hello, Kenzie.”
Oh, crap.
Mac spun around, her heart spiking. “Jay, what are you doing here?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “And don’t say my name. I’m using an alias,” she whispered.
He cocked a brow. “Really? Why’s that?”
“It’s none of your business.”
He shook his head. “Why are you here?” His voice sounded strained.
“I was invited.” She lifted her chin. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her.
“You mean your alias was invited. I’m surprised you’ve met enough people to get an invite. This is for potential donors.”
She shrugged. “Since when did you get rich?”
“I work on Medlock’s automobiles. He invited me.”
Okay, this wasn’t getting them anywhere. She leaned close. “Listen, I’m thinking Medlock might have bought Cheryl.” She held her breath, praying Jay wasn’t really a Colter.
He leaned back and laughed. “Are you crazy?”
“Shh.” Why did men always have to shout?
He grabbed her arm and moved her out of the way of some people trying to reach the food table. “Roger Medlock is running for the Senate. And, if you can’t tell, there are women hanging all over him. He doesn’t need to buy anyone.”
Jay had been the one to suggest Cheryl had been bought in the first place. True, he had no clue who had purchased her, but Medlock was as good a choice as any. “Are you one of his bodyguards or something? Is that why you’re really here?”
“No. I fix his cars. That’s why he invited me.” Jay looked around. “I’m sure you’re aware that Medlock has a lot of sentries around the perimeter, so don’t go snooping. Cheryl’s not here.”
“How do you know?”
“I know the man. Besides, I’ve been here before, and I’ve never seen her.”
She wasn’t certain he’d recognize Cheryl if he saw her since Jay hadn’t been in a good frame of mind at Mac’s dad’s funeral. “She could be in the basement.”
Jay glanced at the ceiling. “Florida homes don’t have basements; at least the ones by the Gulf don’t have them. The water table is too high.”
“Doesn’t mean that Medlock didn’t buy her, but thanks for the update. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to mingle.”
“Be careful, Kenzie.”
Jeez. The man didn’t listen. “Always am.”
As she headed outside, she wondered if Sam or Brandon had seen the exchange. If they had, she’d have to tell them that man was her cousin.
Mac studied everyone. Given the attire of both the men and women, there appeared to be a lot of potential donors at the party. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her men. They seemed to be in deep conversation with someone, though she had no doubt they knew where she was.
Once she finished her incredible plate of food, she set the dish on a tray and wandered back inside. Wanting to check out the rest of the house, she moved away from the crowd, and headed down a corridor. From the size of the home on the outside, she expected more rooms. She peeked her head in one of them. It was a den of sorts, long and quite narrow. Interesting. When she finished examining that half of the one-story mansion, she crossed the main living room to the other side.
Many of the doors were ajar, as if Medlock had nothing to hide. She looked in each one. Two were empty guest rooms, one was some kind of sitting room, and another was a bathroom. The ornate furniture and gold leaf mirrors were a bit too much for her, but the man certainly had expensive taste. She came to a closed door and tested the handle. It was locked.
“Damn.”
She placed her ear to the door and lightly knocked on the off chance Cheryl was inside. No response. She had her lock picks with her, but she wasn’t going to do anything as stupid as try to break in. This was probably his office—his sanctuary.
Determined to find something, she continued down the hallway. At the end was a large master bedroom. She was uneasy just being in Medlock’s room.
If he had Cheryl, maybe her cousin’s clothes would be in the closet. Mac opened the door and peered around the vast space. Oh, my. It was bigger than her bedroom at home. The only problem was that all the clothes belonged to a man.
“What are you doing here?”
It was Medlock. Mac froze.
Chapter Twenty
This was Mac’s worst nightmare. She spun around. “Oh, hi. Your place is amazing. I was just checking it out.” Mac plastered on her best smile, her palms way too damp, but she didn’t dare run her hands down her gown. That would look a bit obvious that she was lying.
Medlock moved closer, his gaze lasered on her face. “Why are you back here?”
Think. “I was looking for a bathroom.”
“You passed one on your way here.” His voice remained even, but there was an underlying command that had her heart hammering.
“Sorry. I’m directionally challenged, I guess.” She shrugged, inhaled, and tossed back her hair as casually as she could. “That’s a lie. I was really curious about you.” With as much subtlety as possible, she tugged on her dress to let show what cleavage she had.
“Is that so?” She swore a blast of interest crossed his face. The man must be desperate if he believed her.
“It’s not every day I run into a fellow werewolf who is handsome and exciting. I don’t know much about computers, but anyone who can program one has my admiration.” She prayed she was doing the right thing. She wanted him to believe she was another gold digger.
“What about those two men you came with? Sam and Brandon was it? They fit the bill.”
She waved a hand. “Of being werewolves, yes, but they’re dull. Besides, they’re just friends.”
“That right?” As if she’d said the magic word, Medlock pulled her close and kissed her hard, his hands landing in a place that made her skin crawl.
* * *
“Where’s Mackenzie?” Sam said looking around.
“She was over by the lounge chairs a moment ago.” Brandon did a slow scan of the occupants. “The house isn’t more than ten or twenty-thousand square feet. How far can she go?”
He didn’t like it. “Don’t be flip. She should know better than to wander off.”
Brandon shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you? You can’t contain someone like Mackenzie. She’s here to get information on Cheryl. If she’s in trouble, we’ll find out soon enough.”
“She better be in the bathroom, or I’m going to tan that girl’s hide, and this time I won’t be gentle.”
Brandon grabbed his arm. “Don’t make a scene. I’ll check the front room as well as the rooms on the west side. You take the east corridor. Let me know when you find her.”
Sam was furious. He’d lost one brother. He wouldn’t lose someone else he cared for. Trying not to attract attention, he surveyed the area once more, checking to make sure Medlock was in sight. Fuck. He wasn’t. Sam’s stomach twisted and hi
s sixth sense shot to high alert.
As he strode through the living room, he spotted Jay Wagner. Shit. Sam debated asking Mackenzie’s cousin if he’d seen her, but since the two of them hadn’t been formally introduced, it would raise too many questions—questions he wasn’t ready to answer.
Seeing Jay reminded him that he needed to find a better way to protect her. If Jay did something to his cousin, the Wagner family would have one more death on their hands.
Sam headed down the hallway and smelled his mate before he saw her. Steeling his nerves to keep from shifting, he strode toward the last room. When he saw Mackenzie in Medlock’s arm—kissing—hair grew on his arms and legs, and his fangs protruded.
Don’t shift.
As much as he wanted to attack the scum, the Pack didn’t need the exposure. “Mackenzie! What are you doing?” His voice came out too sharp; too threatening. The only good thing was that the harshness seemed to startle Medlock enough to break the kiss.
Mackenzie turned around and rushed toward him, her palms up in surrender. “It’s not what you think.”
“What do I think?” He shifted his gaze to Medlock who appeared cool and calm. The son of a bitch would pay for this.
Mackenzie was his. If she hadn’t shown Sam all of the prescription drugs Medlock was taking for his impotency, he might have killed the man on the spot. Consequences be damned.
“I was looking for the bathroom and Medlock kissed me.”
Sam looked down at her, disgusted at the blatant lie. “You can do better than that, baby. Come on. We’re leaving.” He grabbed her arm and half dragged her out of the room, not stopping when Medlock called after them.
Medlock was lucky he didn’t try to interfere. The man would have died. Sam felt horrible hustling Mackenzie outside as if she were a common criminal, but he had the feeling she was inches from being a captive herself. He telepathed to Brandon that he’d found Mackenzie and to meet them outside.
She struggled against his grasp, but he wouldn’t let go. Didn’t dare. Not until they were safe. As soon as they were outside, he released her. “Tell me the truth. What the fuck were you doing in there?”
“I was looking for some evidence of Cheryl, and Medlock found me. I had to pretend that I was there to get a feel for the all-powerful man.”
Made sense. Sam stroked his chin, noting his body hair had receded. “He seemed to have bought your story.”
“Hopefully. When he asked about you and Brandon, and why I wasn’t with you, I told him we were just friends. Sorry.”
He wanted to be mad, but she had been quick on her feet. Medlock didn’t appear suspicious. “Don’t do anything like that again, you hear?” He automatically wagged a finger in her face.
She straightened. “I came to find Cheryl.”
He cocked a brow. “And did you find her or find evidence of her?”
“No, but that doesn’t clear Medlock. He owns a yacht, remember? He could have stored her there.
“We’ll check it out.”
The front door opened, and Brandon trotted out just as two other couples were entering. He glanced between him and Mackenzie. “What’s going on?”
“We’re leaving,” Sam said.
Brandon placed a hand on her back. “Did you see anything? Is that why you disappeared?”
She glanced to the side. “I’ll tell you later.”
Brandon needed to be informed of what happened. “She let Medlock kiss her, but it was either that or confront him about Cheryl. Her choice seemed to be the best one.” Sam handed the valet his ticket. “But she shouldn’t have left our side. That was her first mistake.”
Mackenzie lifted her chin. “That was the whole purpose of being here, if you recall. To get info on Cheryl.”
“Leave that to me and Brandon.”
A minute later, his truck arrived.
“I’ll sit in back,” Brandon offered.
Sam was glad his cousin had volunteered to take the rear seat. From the way Mackenzie wasn’t meeting his gaze, she didn’t want to be near him. Too bad. She had to understand that if she messed up, her life could be on the line.
* * *
Something wasn’t right. Medlock pulled out his cell, his mind spinning.
“This better be important,” Statler said. “I’m with a client.” While the man’s tone sounded jovial, Roger could hear the underlying anger.
Statler was with a client? Since when did he work on a Saturday night? His client must be a woman. He had a weakness for them. “I had a very interesting interaction with a young lady by the name of Mackenzie.”
“Really?” Muffled voices sounded in the background. “I’ll call you back in a few minutes. I want to hear all about it.
* * *
Mac didn’t think any of this was fair. She’d done nothing wrong, so why was Sam gripping the wheel so hard and driving too fast? He acted like she’d shouted to the world that Medlock was a werewolf and that he bought women. The man never suspected she thought him guilty of anything, so all was good. Her dad always preached that the ends justified the means.
Sam remained quiet the entire drive, and so did Brandon, but she had no doubt the two of them were conversing with each other silently. She hated being left out of a conversation, but she could no more change that than she could shift.
Sam pulled into the garage and hopped out. Brandon opened her door and held out his hand.
“Don’t worry about him, darlin’. He gets this way sometimes.”
She shook her head. “I know, I know. Give him time.” It was a painful refrain.
Brandon grinned and most of the anxiety in her heart melted. She wasn’t sure she was ready to think about life after she found Cheryl. Her cousin would need a lot of support and counseling. She doubted Aunt Hannah would be much use or Uncle Andrew for that matter, so it would be up to her to make sure Cheryl received the needed help.
Once more, Sam stood by the back door and looked up. “What is he doing? What does he find so interesting up there?”
Brandon chuckled. “That’s an eye scanner. It reads his retinal image and unlocks the door. Sam’s lazy. He doesn’t like to use a key.”
That was impressive. “Maybe you can hook me up with that thing sometime.”
“I’ll be happy to.”
Brandon escorted her inside. Sam was already in the kitchen grabbing a beer. Neither had anything to drink at the party, as they’d been “working.”
Sam waved the bottle. “I’m hitting the hay.”
Really? He didn’t want to discuss her transgression? “Night.” She waited for his bedroom door to close before turning to Brandon. “That was hostile. Guess it’s you and me tonight.” The three of them had slept in Brandon’s bedroom ever since she’d moved in, but apparently, that wasn’t going to be the case tonight.
Brandon stroked her cheek. “Go kiss and make up with Sam. I don’t want to be around him tomorrow if he’s upset. Sam doesn’t think straight when he’s worried.”
“Worried about what? You think Medlock would have done anything to me while there was a houseful of people?”
Brandon cupped her face. “Just because he didn’t harm you this time, doesn’t mean he won’t round up his men to keep tabs on you.”
She shivered. The last thing she needed was a bunch of werewolves watching her every move. “Way to be a downer. I’ll be sure to carry my trusty weapon.”
Brandon kissed her. “Don’t always assume you’ll have time to get it out of your purse when they approach. We shifters can be fast buggers.”
“I’m fast, too.”
He tapped her butt. “Go and make nice with Sam and don’t take no for an answer.” He touched her arm. “Wait. I have an idea. Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” She loved it when Brandon was spontaneous.
“Trust me.”
She followed Brandon into their “special room.” He stepped over to the shelves containing lots of interesting items and picked up what look like
clothes pins with a chain attached to them.
“What is it?”
“Something you’ll like. They’re nipple clamps. They’ll pinch like hell when Sam puts them on, but as soon as he takes them off, the rush will be nothing like anything you’ve felt before. Here. Tell Sam you want to experiment. He won’t be able to resist you.”
She frowned. “I want him to want me for my own sake, not because I have clamps.”
Brandon hugged her. “As sure as we are werewolves, he wants you—bad. This is just to break the ice. He’s in a bear of a mood.”
“More like a wolf of a mood.”
Brandon nodded toward the hallway. “Get in there and have fun.”
Mac contemplated waltzing in naked, but she thought Sam would enjoy taking off her dress. This time she’d have to let him take control—assuming she could keep her mouth shut.
“Wish me luck.”
“Darlin’, you don’t need luck.”
She inhaled, tapped on Sam’s door, and pushed it open. At least he hadn’t locked it. He was sitting on the bed, fully clothed with the lights on, a beer in his hand. He looked lost.
“What do you want?” he grumbled.
She hadn’t expected such gruffness, but she’d deal. “I came to apologize.”
Mac hid the nipple clamps behind her back since she wanted the toy to be a surprise.
“So you’re admitting that what you did was stupid and rash?” He glanced up at her.
“Rash, perhaps. Stupid, no.” She could only bend so far.
“Okay.”
“Okay? What does that mean?” She thought he’d get up, but apparently he wanted her to grovel. When he didn’t answer, Mac nodded toward the bed. “I thought maybe you’d like some company.”
“You came here for sex?” His gaze bored into her.
She didn’t know why he had to be so crude. “I came to make you feel better; to make us feel better.”
Sam finally leveraged himself off the bed, set the beer bottle on the side table, and strode toward her. “You know what would make me feel better?”
“What?”
“Spanking you. I need to get out my frustration.” He rubbed his hands together.