Roan (Shifters Elite Book 1)

by Ava Benton

  “With all due respect, you accepted a case the client presented to you on false pretenses. He lied when he said she ran away and he was worried about her safety. He hired a man to find and kill her. It’s not my fault things weren’t the way we thought they were.”

  “That’s not your call, Roan.”

  “It isn’t?”

  “No!” Her voice echoed in my ears.

  I had never seen her lose her temper before. “It would be one thing to leave town without the girl. I could even understand that—we could tell Fremont you never found her. I could accept that compromise, but only if you came to me first and discussed it. This is unconscionable, Roan. I’m so disappointed in you.”

  Damn, that stung. It really did.

  I never knew my mother—she died when I was young, not long after Slate was born—but I could imagine feeling the same sting if my actual mom said something like that. I wasn’t used to disappointing people. My personality was too Type A for that.

  “I did what I thought was right, and I still think it’s right.”

  She sighed. “Are you sure this isn’t personal?”

  “Meaning what?” I couldn’t help bristling, but I kept my temper down.

  “You know what I mean. Are you sure you’re not doing this because you’re attracted to her?”

  I growled under my breath before replying. “I did it because she needs help. She has nobody. I know how that feels—and how it felt when somebody stepped in to give me some sort of a life.”

  Mary’s thin shoulders slumped a little as she understood my meaning. “This is different. This is a girl somebody wants dead.”

  “You mean to tell me the government didn’t want us dead?” I laughed bitterly. “Please. A lot of people would’ve slept better at night if the rest of the guys—and I—were wiped out completely, instead of just swept under the rug.”

  “I know. You’re right about that.”

  “And you took a big chance.”

  “I did—which is why I’m not keen on taking another chance.”

  “Do you regret taking a chance on us that much?”

  “That’s not what I mean. You know I don’t regret rescuing you four. And we’re doing good work together.”

  “I agree with that.” I could feel her cooling off.

  She was about to come around to my side.

  I could feel it.

  “I understand you plan on letting her use the jet to go wherever she wants after this.” There went that stern tone again.

  And I was so close to getting what I wanted, too.

  “It doesn’t have to be the jet. My old chopper is out in the shed. I could take it cross-country.” I almost wished Mary would force me into that.

  It had been years since I took a long ride. It would be fun having Hope on the back, arms around my waist, seeing everything with me. I had always gone it alone before and there were times when I wished there was somebody to share it with. Like the first time I watched the sun rise in the desert, or when I camped out under a million stars. It wasn’t the same without somebody to see it with.

  “I thought you got rid of that old thing,” she said with a wry smile.

  I almost had her again.

  “Oh, come on. I couldn’t part with my girl. And I can tune her up with no problem.”

  “Yeah, I bet you could,” she smirked. “I hope you know the client won’t be happy.”

  My blood started to simmer. “I hope you don’t expect me to feel sorry for him. The bastard tried to kill his daughter.”

  “Still, he did contract us for work.”

  “Which was contracted under false pretenses,” I snarled.

  “Reel it in,” she snapped. “I’m on your side. Don’t show me your temper. And yes, if he confronts me about it, I’ll let him know that we received information which contradicts the information he gave us and can’t honor the contract as a result. Leave that up to me.”

  “So you’re okay with this?”

  “I didn’t say that. Let’s use the word resigned. How’s that sound?”

  “That sounds good enough for me.”

  She shook her head but still smiled. “I’ll call tomorrow night, same time.” With that, she ended the call.

  I shut down the system and went back upstairs, whistling as I did.

  Time to plan the next steps.

  8

  Hope

  I tiptoed down the hall, dread just about crushing my chest. The sensation grew heavier and heavier with every step, every inch closer to that strip of light coming from the just barely opened door to Dad’s study. My legs were heavy, too, like I was walking through semi-set concrete. Still, I moved. On and on, closer and closer, knowing the whole time that something terrible was waiting for me. I couldn’t help it. I had to know what.

  Dan. Poor Dan.

  I looked through the opening in time to see Gio Rossi pump lead into his chest. I watched him fall.

  He didn’t even have time to scream or beg for his life. He hit the floor with a thud that reverberated all through me. The sound was like a load of laundry getting dumped out of a basket all at once.

  I opened my mouth to let out the scream bubbling up in my throat, but no sound came out.

  Dad’s eyes. Cold. Unfeeling. Locked onto mine.

  And I ran.

  My eyes flew open. There was still a scream on my lips, just about to fill the air. I realized it was only a dream. Then, I realized I had no idea where I was.

  “Help!” I scrambled backward until I was against an old-fashioned wooden headboard.

  There were blankets all around me. I pulled them close until I was almost completely covered. I couldn’t stop shaking, even with my knees to my chest with my arms wrapped around them.

  The door flew open, and for a split-second I didn’t know who was standing there.

  All I saw was a dark shape—a large, hulking shape that just about filled the doorframe.

  What was he going to do to me? I screamed again.

  “Hope!” He came over to the bed but didn’t sit down. “What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

  I covered my face with my hands when everything came back to me. “Oh, God. I’m such an idiot. I can’t believe I freaked out like that.”

  It was only Roan. He was only trying to help me.

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” I felt his presence next to the bed. He didn’t sit down or even move closer. Giving me space.

  “Is this the cabin?” I peered through spread fingers to look around the room.

  There was a dim light glowing in the corner. An oil lamp. Had we gone back in time, too? Was that where the jet took us? The walls were wood planks, and there was a rag rug on the floor. White curtains on the windows. It looked like something off the set of a Western or old-time movie. Still, for its simplicity, it was nice. Comforting.

  Once my heartbeat returned to a steady rhythm and the urge to scream passed, I could appreciate how cozy it felt.

  “It’s not the kind of place you’re used to, I know.”

  I snorted, still looking around. “How do you even know?”

  “I was in your room.”

  “You were what?” I glared up at him.

  “Christ almighty, it’s not like I was sniffing your underwear or something.”

  “Oh, God. Just the thought of that.” I shuddered, but had to laugh, too. “Anyway, it’s heaven compared to the shitty hotel I hid out in.”

  “There’s not much in the way of creature comforts around here—we don’t even have Internet.”

  “I can live with that. As long as I can sleep better.”

  “You weren’t sleeping well just now,” he pointed out.

  “Thanks for reminding me.” I looked away and wished I could forget that nightmare. I wished I could forget everything that happened and start all over again.

  He sighed. “That was probably a shitty thing to say.”

  The mattress sank when he sat on the edge.
/>
  “It’s all right. I’m still messed up, I guess. I don’t need you to walk on egg shells or anything.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Good.” I looked down at myself. “I’m still in my clothes.”

  “What did you think I was gonna do? Strip you down before I put you to bed?”

  “You put me to bed?”

  “Yeah. Of course. It was either that or leave you in the car.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” I shrugged. “Seems I’m always thanking you.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m pretty amazing.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” I grinned.

  He grinned back.

  “So how do you know about this place? Whose is it?”

  “It’s a team thing.”

  “Oh, right. Your team.” I listened hard, but heard nothing but the sounds of owls and crickets. “Where are they?”

  “They left.”

  “What?” My heart skipped a beat. “I didn’t know it would just be the two of us here. Are they coming back?”

  He shook his head, one eyebrow raised. “Is that a problem?”

  “Not a problem. Just a surprise.” And a problem.

  I felt distinctly uncomfortable just being close to him—not because I didn’t trust him, but because I didn’t trust us. Not when it was dark and he wasn’t wearing a shirt and holy crap, his body was beyond ridiculous. I hadn’t paid much attention when I was scared to death, but looking at him while he wore nothing but a pair of jeans was a real treat. I didn’t think men like him existed outside photoshopped underwear ads, with the chiseled abs and bulging arms and a chest I had already felt the unyielding strength of.

  There was an elaborate tattoo on his right shoulder, extending almost to his elbow. “A wolf?” I pointed without touching.

  He looked down. “Oh. Yeah. Sometimes I forget it’s even there.”

  “Why a wolf?”

  Not just a wolf, but a very large wolf. Majestic, even. I noticed that one of its paws held down a writhing bit of prey, like a large cat or something. Borderline gross.

  “It’s a team thing,” he said with a shrug. “We all have one.”

  “Oh.”

  Men were weird.

  But I already knew that. “How long have you four been out of the military?”

  Anything but a rehash of my nightmare or anything related to us being alone. Together. Sitting on a bed.

  “Three years. Sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago.”

  “I guess so—it really is another life.”

  He tensed up and shifted like he was ready to flee the room. “What do you know about it?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Why are you always so defensive? I was just trying to say, I understand how that must feel. Jeez. I was trying to relate.”

  He relaxed, but only a little. “You’re right. It was another life. In every way.”

  “Except you still have missions, right? Like your mission to find me.”

  “That’s true.”

  I looked down at what looked like a hand-knit bedspread. Where the heck were we that somebody had knit the thing by hand?

  “What sort of missions did you go on?” I asked, picking at a pulled bit of yarn. Careful to avoid his eyes.

  “Secret missions.”

  “Stop playing.” I looked up at him. I hadn’t expected that. “You’re teasing me.”

  “Nope.”

  “Secret missions? Doing what?” I scrambled to my knees. “What sort of stuff did you do?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “You could tell me you did secret stuff, but you can’t tell me what?” I scowled. “That’s not fair. You shouldn’t have said anything at all, then. Tease.”

  “Stop pouting.”

  “I’m not pouting.”

  “Yeah, you are.” He shook his head with a grin and stood up, going to the window.

  He leaned one forearm against the wood frame and looked out into the moonlight night.

  I almost forgot to breathe. He was so beautiful. It was easy to forget that he was protecting me, that we had a sort of professional relationship going on, when he looked the way he did.

  “We did a lot of work in North Africa. It was real deep cover stuff. We had certain skills that made us perfect for the work they needed from us.”

  “You and your brother and cousins?”

  “Yeah.”

  What could that mean? Special skills? Well, Roan was able to point a gun at a man’s head and blow his brains out without thinking twice about it. Cold-blooded. Did he start out that way, or did his Special Ops training make him that way?

  “Only…” he trailed off with what sounded like a sigh. “Somebody found out about us. They shouldn’t have—nobody should have. Word got out about what we were doing and our commanding officer had a choice to make.”

  “What choice?” I whispered.

  “He could admit what he was doing all along—and not just him, either, but all the higher-ups. People whose names we didn’t even know. Or he could doctor up some story to make us look like we went nuts and slaughtered innocent civilians. We were dishonorably discharged.”

  “Holy crap.” It was all I could say, as silly and unnecessary as it was.

  “They wanted to put us in prison, on top of everything. Like we needed anything else. It was bad enough we lost everything—our lives, reputations. Records. All fucked. No way was I going to prison. Everybody else felt the same way, of course. I mean, nobody wants to get locked up when all they were doing was following orders.”

  He turned to me, just enough for our eyes to meet.

  I could’ve sworn an electric current jumped between us.

  “And don’t get smart with me about following orders. I know people use that as an excuse for bad shit all the time. This was different.” He turned back to the window. “And they knew it. And they used that against us.”

  “Different how?”

  He didn’t reply—instead, he left the room.

  I watched open-mouthed, as he closed the door behind him. I asked too many questions; I always did. Something my teachers used to get on my case for all the time.

  My backpack sat on the floor beside the bed. I wondered if anybody had gone through it and decided they hadn’t—none of them seemed the type. Then again, Roan had already admitted to going into my room.

  I pulled off my clothes and wondered about any laundry facilities at the little cabin. They probably used a washboard down by the creek or something. Maybe they washed with homemade soap, too.

  I snickered at the thought of Roan washing his clothes that way while I slid into a nightshirt. There was a little dresser and mirror, which I used as I brushed out the hair that hung down to my chest. It used to be my best feature, after my eyes.

  My eyes were lifeless, my hair lank and needing a wash. And there I was, looking at Roan like he would ever look at me the same way. He wasn’t exactly seeing me at my best.

  I told myself to go back to sleep and forget it. It was only fatigue that made me give Roan a second look, anyway. Once I slept for at least another eight hours, things would seem a lot different.

  I also told myself, just as I was lingering between wakefulness and sleep, that I was only imagining the howling of a wolf.

  9

  Roan

  Even a hunt didn’t make me feel better.

  Neither did sleeping.

  Nothing did. I couldn’t get the thought of her questions out of my head. She knew just how to get under my skin—and the worst part was, she had no idea. I could never show her, either. That went without saying.

  The morning after that first night, it was pretty clear we’d have to go out for food. I went to the shed and pushed piles of leaves and brush away from the door. The hinges screamed as I swung the door open. There she was, under the tarp. Just like I left her.

  I waved away the dust that billowed up in thick clouds when I pulled the tarp off the once-shiny chopper. Just the sight of it, even t
hough it wasn’t anywhere near in the condition it once was, made a lump form in my throat. I remembered it shining in the sun, the chrome polished to a high shine, the blue trim a deep, burning sapphire. The sight of rust blooming everywhere was shameful. Dad would never have allowed that.

  Her scent hit me, hard. I smelled her before I heard her. When I turned, I told myself not to get too pissed off—it wasn’t like I told her not to step foot out the door.

  Not yet.

  “It’s not safe for you to be out here,” I warned.

  She stopped in her tracks. “Good morning to you, too.” She was wearing a cream-colored sweater and tight jeans.

  A little nicer than what I saw her in when I first found her—because she wasn’t trying to hide, not the same way we were hiding at the cabin. Her hair was still damp from the shower and wound in a long braid that hung over her chest. Sleep had given her cheeks color, or it could’ve been the chill in the air.

  “I’m just saying. Be careful. This isn’t the wilds of Manhattan. There’s all kinds of animals out here.”

  She shoved her hands into her pockets and rocked back and forth from her heels to the balls of her feet. “Yeah. I thought I heard a wolf last night. I forgot about it, but you just reminded me.”

  I needed to learn how to keep my mouth shut.

  Yeah, she had heard a wolf. I knew exactly which wolf that was. I had to be more careful—then again, it wasn’t like I could afford to go far out to hunt. I didn’t want to leave her alone for too long.

  “Wolves, yeah. And bears. There’s a lot of bears around here.”

  “Seriously?” That got her. She took a few steps backward, toward the house.

  “I don’t know that they would walk right up to us,” I smirked. And they wouldn’t, not when they smelled me. “But if you were alone out here, I couldn’t make any guarantees for your safety.”

  It was her turn to smirk. “Oh. So animals are afraid of you? Do you shoot them in the head, too?” Her face fell, and the flush in her cheeks deepened. “I’m sorry. That was a low blow.”

  “I didn’t take it that way, but if it’s how you meant it…” I shrugged.

  “I didn’t mean it any way. I thought you might take it wrong. That’s all.”