He handed her bag and the duffel he’d had over his shoulder to Henry. “We drove straight here. Can you take these to my rooms? We need to freshen up.”
Henry winked and Brock really hoped Elsie hadn’t seen the subtle action. “Got it, sir.”
Except there was no escaping the rush of people who’d heard Henry’s boisterous greeting. From their entrance to the walk to their rooms, about twenty to thirty of the resident wolves interrupted them to say hi and introduce themselves to Elsie.
She handled herself well enough, even though Brock knew she was probably frustrated that she wasn’t at her best. But she should know that she was always at her best to him. Maybe her hair wasn’t all perfectly placed and her lips weren’t an unnatural shade of red or pink, but Elsie really didn’t need tight clothes and makeup to be beautiful. It was in the way that she walked. The way she held her head high. The subtle scent of her lavender soap and the purely Elsie scent that he’d grown used to over the years. The scent that made him hard just thinking about it....
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her away from the small crowd that had formed. “She’ll be back soon. I promise,” he said as he pulled her along.
“Is it like this every time you come here or am I causing a bit of a fuss?” she asked.
“As much as I’d love to give you all the credit, it’s like this every time I come out here for anything. Can’t get a damn thing done without fifteen people who either want to catch up or bring up some issue they want me to solve.”
She let out a laugh. “It’s tough to be the king.”
“You’re telling me.” He took Elsie up a back staircase and through the middle section of the house until they finally reached the far west wing. “These rooms are all mine. Well, ours now. No one else is allowed entry. There’s a master bedroom and bathroom combination, an office and an entertainment room. And a few extra bedrooms that are kept empty for...”
“For kids,” finished Elsie.
Brock stopped and smiled down at her. “Yes. Eventually they’re for kids. For now, they’re for any guests you’d want close at hand. Family maybe.”
She snorted. “No... If my mother ever comes to visit, she can stay way, way over there.” She gestured toward the rest of the house with a hand.
Brock chuckled. “Leaving your own family to the wolves?”
“Please. The wolves would be lucky to survive that woman.” Her brows drew together. “And I’m saying that with love, of course.”
“Of course. Did you want to see our room?”
“The room is probably great. I want to see the shower. I think your pack could smell me two states away.”
“They couldn’t smell you two states away. Besides, with our sense of smell, we’re used to the smell of BO.”
Elsie narrowed her eyes at him. “Not helping, Holt. Shower. Now.”
“I didn’t mean you smell like...” He decided to stop before he dug this hole any deeper. “Fine. Follow me.”
He continued down the hallway past the two doors to the spare rooms before he reached the double doors at the very end and pushed them open for Elsie.
She let out a relieved breath as she stepped past the threshold and looked around. “I was a little scared it was going to be the room from the dream,” she said softly.
“Once the dreams started, that room was closed off. It’s at the other end of the Ranch, if you want to check it out tomorrow. From what I understand, it looks the same as you know it.”
A shiver raced through her. “We’ll see how I feel tomorrow,” she said hesitantly.
Brock clenched his jaw but forced himself to relax. He still couldn’t believe it was true. He’d been so convinced that the curse would pass over Elsie entirely. It had been bad enough when the queen took Delia from him, but she’d known what she’d been getting into. She’d been looking forward to beating the curse and becoming a true queen.
Elsie had no idea what she was getting into when he’d claimed her as his. Hell, now that he’d met Lucian, he was starting to think Elsie would’ve been better off if he’d left her the hell alone.
Except that would mean he wouldn’t have Elsie now, and that was a whole other hell he didn’t want to think about.
“Obviously we can change anything you don’t like.” He studied her, looking for any sign of approval or disapproval as she walked around the room. Like the cabin, there was wood paneling everywhere. But this room had tall ceilings that stretched up about twelve feet tall. A window with bench seating looked out over the large expanse of the property, and built-in shelves framed the bed.
Though the king-size bed took up a considerable amount of room, the space was large enough that there was even room for a decorative chest at the foot of the bed and a loveseat in front of the fireplace.
“I don’t think you need to change anything.” She looked over the books on all the bookshelves. “Except maybe add a picture or two. The cabin room seemed like...yours. This feels more bed-and-breakfast-y. Really expensive bed-and-breakfast-y.”
“Like I said, I don’t make it out this way much. I’m sure we can have a few pictures put up of us.”
Elsie frowned. “There aren’t any pictures of us. How sad is that?”
Brock came up behind Elsie and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him and gently kissing her neck. “I’m sure there are dozens of people here who would be more than happy to take our picture.”
“But after I shower, right?”
Brock kissed her once more on the shoulder. “Yes, after you shower.”
Elsie moved from his arms and stripped out of her embroidered shirt and jeans until she was naked in front of him. Every part of Brock wanted to go to her and truly break in the bed, but he held himself back, trying to respect her need to get clean and refreshed.
But Elsie looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. “I need a good ten minutes in there, but if you want to join me after that....”
Brock answered her with a predatory grin.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“So these are the journals?” Elsie sat down in the bedroom from her nightmares.
It wasn’t the same. Whatever she saw in her head must’ve been preserved exactly like it had been when Marella lived...like a time capsule.
“Marella started to keep track of her life toward the end. A lot of it is paranoid jumbles and rants. It’s hard to make heads or tails of, but you can feel free to study it,” said Gretchen, a distant cousin of Brock’s who lived at the Ranch.
One of hundreds of cousins he had. Apparently Brock had a massive family that she didn’t know about. Elsie had filed that away under “things I should’ve asked before we mated.” Mated in any sense of the word...
Gretchen had introduced herself shortly after Brock and Elsie had emerged from their bedroom. They’d managed to thoroughly break in the shower and bed, only emerging when hunger had driven them out. Brock had almost immediately gotten swept away in introductions and old greetings, and Elsie took the chance to venture over to the other side of the Ranch to learn more about the queen who’d been torturing her dreams.
“I didn’t realize she’d come so close to losing it in the end. Everything I read about her made her seem so put together.”
Gretchen nodded as she handed Elsie three of the dusty, leather-bound journals and reached for another two. “Remember, Marella was very old. Nearing two thousand by the time her reign was cut short. That kind of time can mess with a person. Especially that much time away from home.”
Elsie started to gently flip through the pages of one of the journals. “Away from home?”
“Marella was an off-worlder. Like the vampires.”
Elsie’s head shot up at the revelation. “What? Is this common knowledge?”
“There was speculation about it, but now with all this talk of portals and aliens, it’s pretty much common belief. We all knew Marella was a strangely powerful witch who turned her lover and his tribe into
the first werewolves. That kind of power just didn’t exist naturally here. Had to come from somewhere.”
“So this wasn’t just a werewolf who was killed. It was a sorceress.” Not exactly easy to sneak up on someone with that kind of power. It was shocking anyone ever got to the queen, which kind of made Elsie wonder what chance she stood...
Gretchen motioned with her head as she started to lead Elsie out of the room. “Why don’t we make our way to the east library? No one really likes spending much time in here.”
“Can’t imagine why,” mumbled Elsie under her breath. She followed her new family member down the hall and around the corner. Gretchen didn’t look that much like Brock, but she had the same tall stature and dark hair. She had the build of a marathon runner: long limbs without an ounce of fat on her. Her flannel shirt was small, and even that hung loose on her frame. But Elsie was getting used to the fact that wolves all wore loose clothes. Easier to get rid of fast while changing.
She’d have to seriously rethink her wardrobe.
“So who killed her?” asked Elsie as they reached the library and set all the journals down.
“Her personal maid. Another wolf who had been with Marella for about two hundred years. It wasn’t a well-planned attack. The girl was killed before she even made it out of the Ranch. Back then it was called the Castle, but we’re a bit less formal now.”
“So it was a crime of passion then?”
Gretchen frowned. “What makes you say that?”
“Well you said it wasn’t planned well. And a maid should’ve had fifteen different ways to end the queen while giving herself enough time to get away. At least for a little bit.” Gretchen eyed her warily, and Elsie quickly added, “I watch a lot of police procedurals on TV.”
She snorted. “Honestly, no one really knows what happened. The maid was dead in minutes and Marella was dead before that.”
“So how are you sure that it was the maid who did the killing?”
“Because that’s what Marella told her lover’s next mate when she started having the dreams.”
In one of the dreams before the queen killed her. Well, that was a pretty good eyewitness account.
“And all of the other, um, queens had access to these journals?”
“Yep. They all seemed interested in what they had to say, though you obviously know it didn’t do them much good.”
“Probably do me more good than sitting around doing nothing.”
Gretchen narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think you and Brock were doing nothing last night.”
Oh how she’d forgotten about the joys of living with family with supernatural hearing. “Well, Brock is busy right now.” Elsie tried to hide her embarrassment. Even though Gretchen was probably used to hearing more than she wanted to through the walls, it didn’t make Elsie feel much better.
“And I’ll make sure he grabs you as soon as he’s done.” Gretchen winked. She pulled a drawer open on the coffee table in front of the ornate hunter-green sofa. “Here are some pens and paper if you want to take notes. It probably goes without saying, but I’m gonna say it. These books are old. They’re treasures. You’re only allowed to see them because of...extenuating circumstances.”
“At least if I die, I can’t get in trouble for messing with werewolf treasures.”
Gretchen didn’t smile. “Don’t joke. We’re all happy to see you and we’re happy Brock’s happy, but no one is happy about this.”
Elsie’s face fell. It wasn’t as though she was happy either, but what was she supposed to do? Crawl into a corner and just hope it all went away? If she wanted to make a damn joke to make herself feel better, she would. “So you think I’m going to die then?”
Gretchen set a hand on her hip and stared contemplatively at Elsie, as though searching for the right words. “Well, have you ever won a fight with anyone? I mean—no offense, of course—but what exactly can a siren do?”
“We get married,” said Elsie with a little bit of bite. It was the common misconception that a siren’s main power was snaring a man, but there were a few other tricks up their sleeve. Etta used her singing voice to entrance her fiancé into happiness more often than necessary. Though no one really considered a good singing voice that much of a power.
“I’m just saying that if you think you can take down Marella, you need a plan.”
Elsie did have a plan: Survive.
Didn’t that count?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Where’s Elsie?” asked Brock the second he was able to get a moment to himself.
“The same place she was the last time you asked,” said Gretchen from the other side of his office. Well, more like a living area with a desk. Sometimes the crowds in his old office would get so large that not everyone could fit in the room, so he had to take out the wall between the old office and the bedroom next door to make one massive space.
“Do I have enough time to get over there or are there more people waiting?” There’d been a line of his pack mates waiting to see him ever since he’d first been corralled in there.
“You’re free for now,” she said tentatively as she crossed her arms over her chest, glancing between the door and Brock.
“What? Is Elsie okay? Did she have another nightmare?”
“As far as I know, she’s fine. But I just got a call from Henry. Apparently Cullen and his new mate just arrived. They’ve taken up residence in one of the cottages in the outlands.”
“Shit.” Brock stood and strode out of the office and into the hallway. “Get Henry and Dallas over to Elsie now. I don’t want her to see her or talk to Cullen or anyone Cullen might be working with. And I want eyes on Cullen. I want to know if he has any new friends here. His mate, Rachel, might have connections we don’t know about, too.” He stopped abruptly and turned to Gretchen, who almost ran into him. “But keep them away from Elsie.”
Gretchen nodded. “Yeah, you said that already.”
“Because that’s the most important part!”
She stepped back and averted her gaze to the floor. Sometimes he and the pack acted like old friends and family, which they were, but he needed to make sure that his orders were being followed now.
“I’m on it,” she said submissively as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. He stayed with her until he personally heard her give the order for Henry and Dallas to get to Elsie. Then he was off to the locked room right off his wing. When he found the right panel, he held his hand up to the wood in the perfect spot.
As soon as his hand hit the wood, he felt the heat of the security sensors taking his palm reading and the panel suddenly slid open. His own personal gun safe was programmed to only open for him and his second-in-command, Russell. The pack didn’t use guns all that often, but he liked to be prepared. Especially considering he knew there was a threat nearby.
He pulled out the Glock 17 and a subcompact revolver. The accuracy was better on his Glock, but the little revolver fit easily into his pocket, and because this version didn’t have a hammer, it could fire in the tight confines of the clothes without a hammer or slide catching on anything.
After loading the guns, he tucked the revolver into the pocket of his loose jeans and tucked the Glock into the waistband of the pants in the back.
As soon as he was armed, he headed back to the front of the ranch, where a group of the older pack members were waiting. “Have you talked to Russell?” he asked Vaughn, the tallest of the group.
“Russell was about an hour out when I called him. I’m guessing he’ll be here in half an hour with the speed laws he’s probably breaking right now.”
Henry was the head of security, but Vaughn was his backup. Brock would rather have his best man with Elsie while Vaughn had his back if he needed it.
“Have any of you seen Cullen since he got here or just rumors?” Brock asked Vaughn and the three others. Each of them wolves Brock had known for over a hundred years. Each able-bodied and more than capable of fighting.
B
ut Cullen knew the security Brock had. If he was going to try something here, he’d have to already have some way around the defenses. Unless he was just there to cause trouble and be a pain in Brock’s ass. In which case, mission accomplished. Either way, Brock would rather overreact to a nuisance than underreact to a threat.
“I saw him,” said Jason, the blond arms expert. “He kept to himself as his guys unloaded the car for him. His mate, though...she’s a peculiar one.”
Brock frowned. He knew Cullen had become suddenly attached to someone but didn’t know much about her, and his sources weren’t talking. “What about her?”
“Well, she’s not a wolf. I could tell that right off the bat,” said Jason. “Not human either. Couldn’t get a good read on her.”
“Elsie got a good look at her the other day.” Both when she was taken from the cabin and when Rachel showed up in Elsie’s dreams. But his men didn’t need to know about her extracurricular activities. “I’ll ask her if she picked up on anything.” Even if she didn’t connect Rachel to something. “Follow me.” Brock started on the long walk to the end of the east wing, where Gretchen had told him Elsie was studying up on the old queen.
As he walked, he talked to his men. “Are there enough guys to be posted outside and monitor the video feed from the cameras? I don’t want them out of our sight for even a second.”
The hallway was suddenly dead silent and Brock realized there were no footsteps behind him anymore. He turned around, pulling the Glock out of his waistband, and saw that Vaughn and his men were still there. Just standing still and looking straight ahead.
“What’s wrong?” asked Brock, but there was no answer. The men stood like statues, stock-still and offering no protection to anything. Which meant...
“Elsie,” he breathed as he ran. The damn house was too big and she was too far... The guns were good protection, but he had one better. In one step, he was human and the next, his paws hit the hardwood.
~~~~~
Ruling Fire (Bad Boys Of The Underworld Book 4) Page 21