“Wow, brainwashed and dumb as a brick,” Graham muttered under his breath. “If that’s a sample of the caliber of the man’s followers, I say we leave him to his own devices. With stupid like that, this group’s gotta be its own worst enemy.”
The shopgirl appeared not to hear.
Asher was hard-pressed not to agree.
“But did anyone go to check on him?” he persisted. The last thing he wanted was an unaccounted for D’Abo. If the man had changed his routine or gone underground, he might have done so in order to concentrate on his plans for Daphanie.
“No.”
“I feel the need to apologize to bricks.”
Asher ignored the alpha. Personally, he couldn’t decide if she was a victim of stupidity or a terminal lack of personality.
“Then give me his home address,” he ordered. “ I will go and check on him.”
The girl blinked. “Oh. No, I don’t think I can do that.”
He tried a glower. “Why. Not.”
She shrank back a little, but she didn’t change her answer. “Because. That might make the houngan angry. I wouldn’t want to make him angry.”
Asher leaned down, trapping her against the back of her chair. He gave her a moment to absorb his presence, then asked, very, very softly, “Do you want to make me angry?”
The girl squeaked in terror.
Graham laid a hand on his shoulder. “Back off before her head explodes.”
Asher shot him a killing glare.
“You’re not getting anywhere,” the alpha pointed out, “and I just got a text message from Rafe.” He waggled his cell phone under the other man’s nose. “He wants us to meet him back at the club tout de suite .”
Asher straightened slowly, barely noticing when the girl’s eyes rolled back in her head and she slid bonelessly out of her chair and onto the floor.
“Why?” he demanded.
Graham rolled his eyes. “How much information do you think he packed into a text message? Let’s get out of here so we can find out.”
* * *
“I took the liberty of asking an acquaintance to look around the Callahans’ apartment,” Rafe informed them when they had gathered in Graham’s office on the ground floor at Vircolac. “I thought he might be able to find some clue as to the identity of the burglars and their motive for striking.”
“Didn’t we already know that?” Graham asked. He sat behind his desk, his legs outstretched and his booted feet propped on the cluttered surface. He also kept a weather eye on the open door to ensure his secretary didn’t catch him at it. “It was D’Abo and his minions and they were looking for something he could use against Daphanie. Something to strengthen the curse he put on her.”
“Ah, but if it was D’Abo looking for something to use against Daphanie, why was nothing taken?”
“Do we know for sure nothing was?” Asher demanded. “When I asked her if she could see anything missing, she said no, but she was hardly in a state to swear to it. She was too shaken up.”
“Perhaps that is true, but I suspect her first inclination will prove to be correct. It would have been much easier to remove a small item belonging to Daphanie and slip out of the apartment unnoticed. Exerting that sort of destructive effort seems excessive.”
“Unless they did it to scare her. If that was their goal, I can vouch for their success.” Asher’s hands clenched into fists on his lap. He would never forget the look on Daphanie’s face when she first glimpsed the chaos in the apartment. She had looked so lost. Hurt. It made him want to hurt whoever had given her that look. Hurt them until she smiled.
That she wasn’t the type to smile at another’s pain didn’t really matter to him. It would make him smile.
“Do you think that was the goal?” Graham asked. “I got a glimpse of the place, and you’re right that it looks like it cost someone a lot of trouble. That wasn’t five minutes’ work. Whoever was in there took his time about it.”
Rafe nodded. “I think it was part of the objective, yes. But I believe there was more to it. I don’t believe the intruder was there looking for an item of Daphanie’s clothing. I believe he went there for her .”
Asher went blank.
Graham’s feet thumped onto the floor and he leaned forward in his chair. “You think D’Abo went there to try to get to Daphanie directly?”
“Is that not what you would do?” Rafe asked. “If you had a desire to seek revenge on someone, would you break into her home to grab a hair ribbon in hopes of causing her some magical distress? Or would you hope to grab the enemy herself?”
“Of course I’d go after her,” Graham said. “But I’m Lupine, not some kind of witch doctor. I don’t believe in wasting time on this sort of thing.”
“What man does?”
Asher stood so fast, his chair toppled backward, crashing to the floor with a reverberating thump. “I have to get back to my place. I left her there alone. I thought she’d be safe because of the wards, but her sister’s apartment was warded, too, and that didn’t stop them there.”
Rafe rose and stepped into the Guardian’s path. “Relax, my friend. I have already seen to your woman. I posted guards at the door to your home as well as on all the streets leading up to it. She is well protected.”
“By whom? What kind of guards? Are they any good?”
The Felix’s mouth quirked. “Ask Winters. They come from his security force.”
Graham rolled his eyes. “Of course they do. Hey, my pack is your pack, compadre. Feel free to reassign my guards anywhere you like. In fact, why don’t you just give them all the month off with pay? Clearly, I can foot the bill and deal with the inconvenience.”
“It is unbecoming of you to whine,” Rafe said. “You were unfortunately away from your office when I realized precautions needed to be taken.” He paused and grinned. “If it’s any consolation, I consulted with your wife before I spoke with Logan, and she gave me her blessing to make whatever use of your security that I needed.”
“Yeah, I feel so much better now,” the Lupine grumbled.
“Feel free to take it up with her.”
Asher relaxed just a fraction at the news that Logan Hunter headed up Daphanie’s guard. He didn’t know the Lupine well, but he did know that he held the position of beta to the Silverback Clan and chief of security for Vircolac and the pack’s other, more private, concerns. If Asher couldn’t personally be with Daphanie, at least he could trust Hunter to protect her with his life.
Rafe turned back to Asher. “Rest assured, I would never take risks with another man’s mate, Guardian. She is as safe as we can make her. For the moment.”
“But we need to make her safer.”
“Exactly. In my opinion, the only way to make her wholly safe is to remove the threat against her.”
“That’s what we were planning to do,” Graham said. “That’s what we went over to D’Abo’s temple to do—to remove him. Only it turns out the bastard wasn’t there.”
“And no one seemed to know where he’s gone. I tried to get the address of his home out of one of his minions, but she refused. I was unable to press her further because Graham interrupted to tell me you’d texted.”
The alpha snorted. “You were unable to press her further because you’d already pressed her so hard she passed out. When we left the shop, she was drooling on the linoleum.”
Asher shrugged. He didn’t much care about details.
“I admit, I am not surprised to hear that,” Rafe mused. “I suspected he might prove hard to find after I heard of what my acquaintance found at the Callahans’ apartment.”
Asher sharpened. “Why? What did he find?”
“He found this.” Rafe reached into the pocket of his trousers and came out with a string of large beads carved from a variety of different woods, ranging in color from the pale cream of maple to the violet of purpleheart and the dark brown of walnut.
“I recognize it. It’s D’Abo’s.” Asher frowned, an uneasy feeling
needling him. “He wore it at the club the night he and Daphanie had their confrontation.”
Graham snorted. “It must have fallen off while he was ransacking the apartment, and he didn’t notice. Very clumsy of him.”
Rafe pursed his lips. “I suppose that is a possibility. A slim one. But I do not think that is what happened.”
Asher reached out and took the necklace from the Felix. He examined it closely, stretching the circle around his spread fingers. Still that sense of wrongness prodded at him.
“Where did he find it?” he asked, glancing up to meet Rafe’s sharp, golden eyes.
“On the living room floor, just to the left of the entrance. A sheet of paper lay half over it, but it wasn’t hard to spot. He found it just like that.” Rafe nodded to the piece significantly.
“Just like this…?” Asher repeated, rolling the words over in his mind while he stared at the unbroken circle of beads. It took only a few seconds, and he swore like a dockhand.
Rafe nodded. “This is what I said when he handed it to me.”
Graham just looked confused. “What? Have the two of you developed a secret language? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Rafe’s … acquaintance found it just like this, ” Asher repeated, holding the necklace aloft. “Look at this part right there. There’s a clasp on it. The necklace isn’t big enough for D’Abo to pull on and off over his swollen head. He has to put it on by fastening and unfastening the clasp. And the clasp is fastened. There’s no way this necklace just fell off of anyone.”
The light dawned in the alpha’s face. “Holy shit. So that means someone left it in the apartment on purpose.”
“Planted it,” Rafe said firmly. “Someone deliberately planted the necklace so that we would assume D’Abo had been the one who was there, the one who ransacked the place.”
“Okay, that part I get, but why bother? Who else were we going to think did it? No one but D’Abo has any reason to want to harm Daphanie.” Graham looked at Asher.
“And yet D’Abo is missing.”
Rafe nodded, his eyes glinting. “Exactly. I think someone is deliberately trying to confuse us. Whether it is D’Abo or someone else, and I begin to lean toward the idea of someone else at least playing a role, our adversary wants to ensure that our little mystery remains a puzzle to us.”
“He can want whatever he damned well pleases.” Asher balled the necklace up in his fist and shoved it into the pocket of his coat. “I intend to find out what’s going on and put a stop to it. For Daphanie’s sake.”
Fourteen
If there is one generalization that can be applied to the Others in regards to the relations between the sexes, it is that Other men have never made the mistake of underestimating the power of a woman.
It is likely the reason they were not wiped out centuries ago.
—A Human Handbook to the Others, Chapter Two
Daphanie took the news with surprising calm, more than Asher expected he had exhibited. She just curled her fingers around the cup of tea she had poured for herself and watched him with bruised eyes. She hadn’t slept as well as he’d hoped she would. In fact, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.
“If it’s not D’Abo who laid this curse on me, who could it be?” she asked.
She looked like a child curling up on the bench at the table in his breakfast nook, her feet tucked beneath her and another pair of ill-fitting sweats clothing her. This time they were his and both shirt and pants bagged on her hopelessly, despite her having rolled up hem and cuffs half a dozen times each.
“I think I can safely say that I don’t make a habit of pissing off people with magical powers.” Her lips curved at her own humor, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes.
“Of course you don’t,” he said, reaching out to seize one of her hands, tangling her finger with his. They felt cold in spite of the warmth of the tea. “You’re not the one who caused this, and whoever is behind it, we’re going to find them, and we’re going to stop them. Understand?”
She nodded, and her smile this time was almost genuine. She lifted their joined hands to her mouth and kissed the back of his knuckles. By the time she lowered them back to the table, the smile was gone.
She was beginning to worry him. During this past week, he’d seen the shadows beneath her eyes begin to bloom and her skin grow a little paler, but he’d put it down to her not sleeping well. After all, it couldn’t be easy to rest when he knew she continued to have the dream of the ritual in the firelit tent. That was why he’d left her sleeping when he went out to seek D’Abo. He’d wanted her to regain a little of her energy, hoping it would make her feel more like herself.
It hadn’t worked.
He squeezed her hand. “You look tired. Do you want to take a nap?”
She eyed him over the rim of her cup. “I suppose that depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether ‘nap’ is a euphemism.”
He chuckled. “And if it’s not?”
“Then I’m not interested.”
He scooped her up and settled her on his lap, tea and all, bending to press a kiss to her forehead.
She scowled up at him. “Cut it out.”
“Cut what out? Kissing you?”
“Kissing me like that. I’m not a child, and I’m not fragile. You can stop treating me like I’m going to break if you touch me the wrong way.”
He bit back the urge to tell her he feared exactly that. Had she looked at herself in the mirror today?
“Did I treat you like I was afraid to break you last night?” he asked instead, his voice dropping to an intimate rumble.
The smile that bloomed across her face almost took his breath away. “No, you didn’t,” she purred, leaning against him. “And it was wonnnderful.”
He chuckled. He’d given himself a few tense moments last night, thinking he might have hurt her, in spite of the obvious pleasure she’d taken in their joining. It felt good to hear she’d enjoyed it.
“Now if that was what you meant by napping…” She leaned up to nip at the end of his chin, her quick tongue soothing the minor sting. “In that case, I would be very interested.”
Asher glanced down at her, seeing the light flush desire had brought to her cheeks and feeling a surge of mingled relief and tenderness. Gently, he plucked the mug from her grasp and set it aside.
“It wasn’t quite what I meant,” he murmured, gathering her closer and brushing his lips gently once, twice, across hers. “But I think I should be able to come up with something to interest you more than sleeping.”
She purred her agreement against his throat and let him lift and carry her through to the bedroom.
Last night, he had tripped Daphanie and beat her to the floor—literally. But tonight, he had something else in mind.
He set her gently on her feet beside his bed. The sheets were still rumpled from when she’d risen late that morning, but he had more interesting things to think about than her housekeeping habits. Like the warm, slumberous look in her dark eyes, or the pink flush of desire climbing up from the neck of her borrowed sweatshirt, heating her skin.
In silence, he stripped her of her clothes, leaving the garments crumpled on the floor as he lifted her and placed her gently in the center of his mattress. He pulled the tangle of bedding aside, shoving them down to the foot of the bed with the duvet to give himself an unobstructed view of her naked body.
Her dusky skin glowed, all coffee-and-cream silk, against the navy cotton of his sheets. His eyes slid over her, slowly, hungrily, from her delicate toes—the nails painted a glittering bronze—up her surprisingly long legs to the neat tangle of dark curls between, over the gentle curve of her belly and the lush flare of her hips to the sweet, soft weight of her breasts. Her nipples tightened under his gaze, hardening to rosy brown points and making his mouth water for the taste of them. One more item he’d rushed past last night, and he added it to the list of things he meant to savor this time.<
br />
Raising his gaze to hers, he saw her tongue dart out to moisten her lips and felt his own curve in response.
Oh, yes, this time he had a very, very long list. And he intended to accomplish every single item on it. Even if it took all night.
* * *
Daphanie shivered under her lover’s gaze. Whether it was from the chill of being naked in the cool dark of his bedroom, or from the anticipation, she couldn’t tell.
It didn’t matter, anyway. Judging by the look in his eyes, Asher would warm her up soon enough.
She watched as he straightened and began to shed his own clothes, his eyes never leaving hers as he dealt with buttons and zippers. Last night they’d each been in too much of a hurry to spend much time looking at each other, but tonight Asher moved slowly, deliberately, and she was grateful for the opportunity it gave her to feast her eyes on his masculine beauty.
She’d never seen a man like him, not in all her thirty-one years. He could have modeled for a Renaissance sculpture, all hard planes, graceful lines, and lean, powerful muscle. Except for his sex. She couldn’t imagine a fig leaf in the world that would serve to cover his impressive erection.
Free of confining fabrics, he joined her on the bed, crawling over her like some great jungle cat, straddling her thighs and settling back on his haunches so that she felt like nothing so much as a plate of delicacies spread out for his enjoyment. He certainly eyed her with an appropriate hunger.
“You’re not touching me,” she pointed out, her skin tingling in anticipation.
“Oh, but I’m making plans,” he purred, smiling like a Cheshire cat. “I don’t want to rush this. I want— No, I need to take my time.”
She forced out a nervous laugh. “Fine, but I’m not getting any younger here.”
Something dark and raw flickered behind his eyes, but it was gone before she could remark on it. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers and she couldn’t remark on anything at all.
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