by Renee George
I grimaced. "Exactly right."
Chapter 4
Grady Conrad drove a white Cadillac Escalade, so he wasn't hard to follow, though I got the impression he wasn't trying too hard to lose me.
"And how are the negotiations going, Eliza?" Leonard asked from the passenger seat.
I jumped, jerking the wheel, and almost landing us in a ditch. I corrected quickly and returned to the road. "Give a girl some warning. Sheesh." I took a slow breath to steady my rapid pulse then glared at Leonard. "What are you doing here?"
He nonchalantly shrugged. "Just checking in." The only thing missing from the affectation was him whistling while he studied his manicured nails. Today he wore a blue Air Force officer’s dress blues and aviator sunglasses. He looked dapper as a young officer.
"The groom is reluctant." I pointed at the Escalade up ahead. "That's him. He left the mediation early, so I thought it best to go have a private conversation with him. Getting to know him is the only way I'm going to find out how best to persuade him to come around."
"Well," Leonard said with a confident smile. He squeezed my shoulder. "If anyone can do it, it's you, m' dear. You have a wonderful charm, and you make it difficult to say no." He dipped his head and drew his glasses down his nose until his red gaze was on me. "I know it would be a difficult task for me."
"Then how about you let me out of my contract," I said.
Leonard sat back in the seat and crossed his arms. "No."
"See," I said. "It's not that hard to say no to me."
"I want a progress report tonight, Eliza. Call me when you are done speaking with Grady Conrad." There must have been something in my expression when he said Grady's name because he added, "And don't sample the merchandise. I have plans for that boy, and it doesn't involve a dalliance with you."
"I would never," I weakly protested to the empty seat, because Leonard had disappeared as quickly as he'd appeared. "Jerk."
I continued my pursuit of Grady across railroad tracks and down 6th Street until he turned onto Pershing. Later, he turned right onto a gravel road and I could see him slow down as if waiting for me to notice. Had he orchestrated the whole diner scene to get me to speak with him alone? I wasn't sure what he could say. I understood having your choices taken from you. I'd grown up in an era where women had very little choice in any of the decisions in their lives. Including who they married. I was lucky I had a dad who loved his daughters more than he loved conventional thinking. Even so, nothing short of a miracle would get Grady out of this marriage contract.
Since he wasn't trying to hide from me, I didn't try to hide from him as I pulled in and parked right behind the large SUV in front of a gray and white three-story Craftsman style home. I was a ghost when American Craftsman became popular, but I hadn't been one for long. Looking at the architecture of this place, the low gables and deep-set eaves with exposed rafters, I guessed it was probably built in the early 1900s. I turned off the engine and waited to see what the young alpha would do next. About that time, several dozen very tall people, men and women, poured out of the large house. Great. No wonder having little ol' me follow him hadn't worried him one iota. Grady Conrad had led me straight to his pack.
I put my hand to the key and debated the merits of running. A bang on my hood made me jump in my seat. I'd only looked down for a second, but somehow Grady Conrad stood next to the driver side door and stared down at me. "You going to sit in there all day or are you coming inside?"
The place, while only a few miles out of town felt isolated and remote. "You're not planning to hurt me, are you?" Jayzus, looking up at his muscled form and handsome face, I couldn't help but wonder just how good hurting me might feel, given the right circumstances. After all, Grady Conrad was a large man, which probably meant all of his parts were extra big.
He narrowed his gaze on me. "I don't hurt women, not even the ones who work for evil bastards."
I wasn't going to take the bait he offered. "Then I'll happily come inside your home." Come and come, and damn it, I had to get my mind out of the gutter. Grady was betrothed to Carol Ann, and I was here to make sure the wedding happened, not fantasize about the groom. "Will you escort me, Mister Conrad?"
"Certainly."
His tattered T-shirt exposed a soft dappling of dark hair on his ridiculously muscular chest. Holy crap, he was pec-tacular. Remarkably, his jeans had managed to survive his transformation. The new fabrics these days were remarkable. As I took one last quick glance at his chest, I was glad he liked cheap shirts.
"You have an accent I can't place," he said, as he opened the door for me and offered me his arm. "You're not from Missouri, are you?"
"No, further south."
His brows rose. "Hell?"
I giggled as I looped my arm in his. "Not that far south. Georgia. My father owned a farm there."
"Owned? Is he gone?"
"Yes." I nodded solemnly. "Do not fret about me, Mister Conrad, my grief is old." Like me. "My poppa died a very long time ago."
"I'm sorry for your loss," he said.
A fresh wave of sorrow renewed in my heart. "He was a good man. I still miss him." I held my head up high as Grady walked me past a glaring, angry crowd of shifters. Even so, I felt weirdly safe next to him. "I don't think they're happy I'm here."
"They’re not," Grady said. A tall man with chestnut brown hair, a narrow torso and long legs, opened the door for us as we walked in the house. The moment we were alone, he turned me to face him. "My father wasn't a good man, Miss Madder, and neither is Bobby Broderick. I'll be damned if I will allow my pack to fall into that tyrant bastard's hands."
I sighed. "Well, that's going to be a big problem, because Leonard wants what Leonard wants, and he wants you married to Carol Ann." Though I don't think he cared whether Broderick was in charge of the pack or not. "Wait a minute? Broderick doesn't look much older than you, which tells me that your kind live a very long time. How did your father die?"
Grady paused then said, "I killed him."
Suddenly, I felt a whole lot less safe.
"Come on." Grady gestured at a long hallway. "My office is down this way."
I walked ahead of him and turned back once, totally catching him checking out my derriere. He looked startled at being caught before quirking his head to the side as he smiled like the cat who ate the canary. I shook my head but walked the rest of the way with an extra spring in my step. Even if he wasn't meant for me, it was nice to know the attraction wasn't completely one-sided.
He reached ahead of me and opened the door. The office was cluttered with file cabinets, boxes, books, and paperwork. It smelled faintly of cigar smoke and dust. A dark wooden desk rested against the wall under the only window in the room, and a large leather chair, warn in some spots, flat in others, and a rip in the seat was perched in front of it. A painting of deer in a meadow decorated one wall. On another was a framed photograph of a young man, a pretty, dark-haired woman, and a small boy. The boy had black hair and green eyes.
"Is that you?" I asked, pointing to the picture.
"Yes," he said. He yanked his ripped shirt over his head, and his naked torso almost gave me the vapors. I resisted the urge to sit down and fan myself. I would have made a comment, but I think a part of me hoped this was the beginning of some werewolf ritual stripping of the clothing. Hubba-hubba. Unfortunately, he grabbed a crumpled blue T-shirt from the top of a file cabinet and put it on, the tag and seams on the outside.
"Your shirt is on inside out," I said.
He tugged it out, exposing his rock-hard abs, and poked a finger through a hole in the front then shrugged. "It's fine."
Whew. "More than fine."
"Really, Miss Madder. What would my fiancé say?" he teased.
The heat of a blush crept up my cheeks. "What? Oh. I..." Crap, I'd said that out loud. "I only meant, it's fine that your shirt is on inside out. It won't interfere with my mediation." Except that it did, and it would, because, my word, Grady was sexier than all
the chocolate in Belgium, and I thought Belgium chocolate was pretty damned sexy. I turned my attention to the family portrait. The man, who had sandy brown hair and brown eyes, didn't resemble Grady except in build. "And that's your father?"
"Yep." He sat in the chair, his fingers flexed on the armrests. "That's him."
"He was a right bastard to use his child to make a deal with Leonard."
"He needed the demon to beat my grandfather and take the pack."
"He wasn't the leader when he made the deal?"
Grady chuckled, and my body tightened with pleasure. Stop that, I scolded myself. "Why do you think he made the deal?"
Grady gestured to the interior of the office. "For all this, I suppose."
"He liked paperwork?"
"He liked power, and my grandfather, like my father, was a real son-of-a-bitch." His fisted knuckles turned white, and I saw bloody marks when he openly flexed them.
I looked at the lady with the black hair. "And your momma?"
"She's dead, too." He leaned back in the chair. "You're not here to talk about my past, Miss Madder."
"Actually, I'm not sure why I'm here, Mister Conrad. I mean, I know why I'm here in the area, but I'm not sure what I'm doing at your house."
"You followed me here, not the other way around."
"Only because you let me."
He smiled. "True."
"Just tell me what you think I can help you with, so I can disabuse you of the notion, and we can get down to business. Leonard isn't the worst demon lord out there, but none of them are nice. You don't want him popping down here."
"Why? Is he going to kill me?"
"If you were human, I'd say, no, but since you're a lycanthrope, a creature whose line was started by Leonard, I'd say, he can probably do what he wants with you and none of the angels will care." He looked a bit confused, so I added, "The angels and the demons have an accord. Demons can trick humans and make deals with them and entice them with wicked sins to win their souls, but they can't harm humans physically. No striking anyone dead just because they pissed off a demon."
"And how do you know all this?"
"My sister was a minion for one-hundred and fifty years, and her husband is half-angel who has been researching demons and other supernatural creatures for a lot of years."
"Excellent," he said as he stood. He towered over me, and his weighted gaze made my knees wobbly. "I'm so glad to hear what I've heard about your family is true."
Uh oh, that didn't sound good. "And what have you heard?"
"That you and your sisters know how to send demons to hell."
"That claim is highly exaggerated," I said.
"But mostly true," he said.
"After a fashion."
"Then you will make good on the little side deal your sister made with my father four months ago and help me get rid of the demon, Eliza." His green gaze and the use of my first name melted my panties and nearly my resolve.
Wait a minute. Did he say the little side deal my sister made? What in the world was he talking about? "I can't--"
"Take can't out of your vocabulary," he said, placing his large, warm hands on my shoulders and cutting me off. "Now, what do I have to do to get out of this bargain with the dread lord Leonard?"
Chapter 5
"What in the world do you mean by the deal my sister made with your father?" As far as I knew, none of my sisters had even heard of the Conrads or werewolves before Leonard gave me my assignment. But I knew, given how old the deal was, only one Madder sister could’ve made the bargain, and that was Olivia. But she’d never worked for Leonard, so what the hell was going on?
"Olivia," he said, confirming my suspicions. "The one they call 'The Madder.'"
I rolled my eyes. That stupid nickname was never going away. "That's impossible. Demon lords don’t share minions.”
Grady stared at me. “I’m talking about the new deal she made, Eliza, not the original bargain struck with Dad and Bobby. She told my dad she could break the bargain.”
"Was he having second thoughts about the deal?"
"I think it was a misguided attempt to assuage his guilt over my mother. She had not agreed with the bargain and had learned to hate him for using me in his bid for more power."
"I can guarantee Olivia didn't seek out your father to make any sort of transaction." I knew without a shadow of doubt she was no longer in the deal-making business. Since pocketing Demon Lord Moloch into a philosopher's stone, Olivia had been mostly sidelined with wife and mom duties.
"Really? So, you don’t have a twin sister named Elise and another sister named Charlotte?" He tucked his chin. "Although, she said you were dead."
"At one time." I put my hands on my hips. “And what did this Olivia look like, exactly?"
"She was blonde, expensive clothes, well-put together." He tilted his head at me. "Pretty enough, if you like the type."
Did he like the type? Because that put me way out of the running. Which would be good, right? Because Carol Ann and all. Sheesh, I had to keep my mine on the job. Job. Job. Oh, and an apparent fake Olivia. "Olivia doesn't have, and has never had, blonde hair."
Consternation lines formed between his eyebrows. "Never?"
I shook my head emphatically. "She's been a brunette since the day she was born." I tried to think about who might impersonate my sister, but I couldn't think of anyone who knew her or us well enough, at least, not since I'd been resurrected. "And she said she was Olivia Madder?"
"Demon huntress, for a price. She conned Dad out of all of the Pack’s money." His face took on a menacing expression. I hadn't realized that he'd back me up against the wall until his fist bit through the plaster ten inches away from my right ear. The family portrait bounced from its hanger and hit the wooden floor, the glass breaking from the frame. "It was all a lie. She couldn’t break the bargain. Damn it!"
I gulped as his canines elongated. "I'm afraid so. I'm really sorry."
"I'm going to find fake-Olivia and rip her arms off and feed them to my pack."
"That's very graphic." And did they really eat people, because, yuck. Though I supposed that didn't make them cannibals since werewolves were a different species, but still, human being had to be an acquired taste.
He cast his gaze downward at my heaving bosom. Shoot, I was breathing way too hard. "You don't have to be afraid. I won't hurt you."
"Tell that to the wall," I huffed.
The tension around his eyes softened for a moment. "I get a little edgy sometimes." He cast me a clothes-falling-on-the-floor smile.
Stupidly, I smiled back. Ack. I was a terrible minion.
He leaned closer, his face inches from mine. "You are very attractive, Eliza."
Shoot. Werewolf, I reminded myself. I'd read enough fiction to know their senses were highly attuned. Could he smell my reaction to him?"
I croaked out the words, "If you like the type."
He stroked a finger down my cheek. "I do."
I closed my eyes and enjoyed the shiver of thrill pulsing under my skin then smartened up and ducked under his arms and moved several feet away from him.
"Now, Mister Conrad, I don't care what you might be smelling on me, but I can tell you right now, a lady doesn't dally with taken men."
His eyes widened for a moment then he laughed. "Smell on you? Like your strawberry scented shampoo? Or your raspberry body spray?"
He was two for two on the body products. "You know very well, what I'm talking about."
Grady closed the distance between us with his long legs in one powerful stride. An energy unlike anything I'd ever felt warmed me like sunshine after a hard rain. He crooked his finger under my chin and tilted my head back. "Are you talking about heat, Eliza? Do you think I can smell the scent of your desire for me?"
"Uhm, maybe." I pinched my lips together as my mouth began to water.
"You're adorable," Grady said. He let my chin go then pivoted to his desk chair and collapsed down into it. "Lycanthropes do
not have heat-seeking senses, regardless of what movies or books you might have read say on the subject. We do have very good noses, but it's impossible to detect something like pheromones. Besides, were werewolves, not dogs."
"Oh, then how did you--"
"Know that you are attracted to me?" He smiled and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees as his gaze seemed to drink me in. "I have eyes, Eliza. And you are really honest with your body language." He licked his lips. "I find that sexy in a woman."
"Stop that," I told him. Then an awful thought popped into my head. "Are you trying to seduce me, so I'll help you get out of your contract?"
He flinched. Damn it. He was trying to use me.
"How dare you, sir?" My sir came out as a Deep South "suh" but I didn't even care. "I will not be manipulated by you and your large muscles." I slashed my fingers at his chest and arms. "Or your handsome face." I waved my palm in front of his nose. "You will honor your responsibility to Leonard."
He rose to his feet and towered over me again. "And if I don't?"
I balled my fingers into fists. "I will not be intimidated by the likes of you."
"Nor I you," Grady said. Touché.
I wagged my finger at him. "I'll be back!" Because, I seriously needed to regroup. I had no idea how I was going to get this stubborn werewolf back into the same room with his adversary, let alone get him married in the time frame Leonard wanted. I don't know why that stupid demon lord thought I could. Was he setting me up for failure? Well, Eliza Madder was no quitter. I just needed to come up with a plan. And maybe I needed a little help in the process.
"Olivia, it has been horrible here in Hannibal." I grimaced as I sat back on the motel bed with my cell phone pressed to my ear. "Werewolves are terrible people."
"I met one once in West Virginia. He was arrogant, but not evil. Are you sure you're not exaggerating? You do that, you know."
"I assure you, sister, that I am not overstating the issue. Your West Virginia wolfman must have been neutered because Grady Conrad is a complete monster," I huffed. "What am I going to do? He doesn't want to marry this girl. And he thinks I can help him get out of the deal."