by Moira Rogers
Nicole Peyton rarely called him by choice. Jackson was her best friend and she was married to Kat’s cousin—if she had a message for him, it usually went through one of them. The only time she called him directly was when shit was going to hell fast—
—or the Alpha had a message he couldn’t officially give to a rogue bastard.
Alec fumbled for the answer button. “Yeah?”
“You have a problem,” Nick said without preamble. “The guy who attacked Kat disappeared from Conclave custody this afternoon.”
His first thought was, shit, followed closely by the more puzzling question. “How?”
“Oh, I thought I covered that part. He disappeared, as in a teleporter popped into his cell and popped right back out, with him in tow.”
“Jesus Christ, Nicole. Are you shitting me?”
She made a strangled noise that almost sounded like a laugh. “This isn’t my idea of a rollicking good joke, Alec. A Conclave guard watched it all happen, so it was either teleportation or one badass glamour affecting about a hundred people, because no one else in the building saw or heard anything.”
“Damn.” Not good news, considering he’d never heard of a teleporter strong enough to move themselves more than a few hundred feet, much less take someone else along for the ride. Then again, psychics with strong gifts that could be put to sinister uses had good reason not to make their presence known. “I can’t tell if that’s related to my current shitstorm or a completely different shitstorm.”
“The thing with the Mendoza kid?” Nick hesitated. “Look, Alec, I don’t say this a lot—mostly because you can take care of yourself—but watch it. Cesar Mendoza isn’t good people.”
Life really was circling the drain when Nicole Peyton started worrying about him. At least she was too distracted to ask painful questions about Carmen—questions Alec wasn’t in the mood to answer. “I know Cesar Mendoza’s a jackass, which is most of the reason I think this mess with Kat has to be separate. Mendoza wouldn’t send someone on a risky job if they needed rescuing. Maybe if they needed killing, but this… Shit. Does your husband know?”
“Not yet. I thought I’d give you the heads-up first.”
“Don’t suppose you’d consider holding off for a bit?”
“Nope. I like being married.”
Married people were a pain in the ass. “Fine. At least tell him that his cousin’s fine, she dropped a shifter with a stun gun all by herself, and we’re taking good care of her.”
“I will, but don’t be surprised if he shows up anyway.”
“If he does, I’ll deal.” Alec whipped his truck around a corner and swore. “I’m on my way back to meet Kat and Jackson at your bar. Maybe I can convince her to call and fess up.”
“Works for me. In the meantime, I’ll keep an ear open for news.”
“Thanks, Nicole. Give me an hour to convince Kat she’s busted before you spill the beans to Derek, would you?”
“One hour. Talk fast.” The phone clicked.
Shit. One hour to get to the bar and convince Kat that independence didn’t need to mean cutting her cousin out of her life entirely.
Alec buried the needle.
Forty-seven minutes later, Kat capitulated and took her cell phone outside into the April sunshine to call her cousin.
Alec blew out a breath and wondered if it was too early to drink something stronger than beer. “She seems to have bounced back just fine. I think Zola’s stubbornness is rubbing off on her.”
Jackson finished his beer before answering. “Really? I think she’s getting more and more like you.”
“I hope not.” It sure as hell wasn’t a compliment, especially considering the mood he’d been in since Carmen had left his house—and left him regretting half the things he’d said.
“Oh, come on. Don’t get all wounded. It’s a good thing.”
“Uh-huh.” Alec tilted his beer bottle toward the leather satchel on the seat beside his partner. Carmen might not want to talk to him, but he’d still do what he could to keep her safe. “So what’s the news? Kat finally figure out what Cesar’s been doing with his money?”
“Yeah.” Jackson’s eyes shadowed. “You’re not gonna like it.”
“He buy a witch?”
“No. He didn’t spend it at all.” He reached into the satchel and drew out a sheaf of papers. “He’s been transferring it—cash, money market, even real estate assets. All to his brother’s kids.”
“What?” It didn’t make any sense, unless… “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah, looks like he’s sheltering his assets in anticipation of a challenge. Which, if I recall correctly, is a big cowardly no-no, right?”
“Christ, yeah. Assuming it even works.” A few generations ago, it wouldn’t have mattered. An underhanded attempt to escape the consequences of a lost challenge would have been brought before the Conclave, and retribution would have been swift and brutal. The Alpha would have taken his share of the wealth as penalty, and the wolf in question would have been lucky to escape with his life.
John Wesley Peyton might have the strength to be Alpha, but he abhorred unnecessary brutality. The man had been fighting a losing battle for years, trying to drag the wolves into the civilized twenty-first century. Cesar Mendoza might be crazy enough to think he’d get away with a stunt like this.
Jackson tapped his empty bottle on the table. “Kat tracked down the paper trail on the rental house in Algiers too.”
The bottom of Alec’s stomach damn near fell out. It had been the first thing they’d looked into, but the paper trail had gone in endless circles obviously meant to protect whoever had paid for the place. If Kat had been restricted to legal channels, that would have been the end of it.
Thank God it wasn’t—though confirmation of Carmen’s suspicions might make her feel worse, not better. “Was it her father?”
“Hate it like hell, but yeah. Diego Mendoza secured the rental six months ago.”
“Jesus. Wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision, was it?”
Jackson smiled mirthlessly. “I don’t think you can hit up the phone directory and find the kind of caster he needed for this shit. I’d be surprised if it took him less than a year of planning.”
That was going to break Carmen’s heart. “Did Kat include that in the paperwork?”
“Nope. I figured you could decide which parts to tell her.”
“She suspects already.” Alec sat back and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Suspecting isn’t the same as knowing, is it?”
“Not about something like this, it isn’t.”
He’d pushed her away because she wasn’t safe in his world. It had seemed stupid enough during the lonely nights he’d spent wishing she was in his bed. It seemed even stupider now, with proof in front of him in black and white—Carmen wasn’t safe in her own world, and it had nothing to do with him. She’d be in danger whether she was with him or not.
Hell, she’d be a whole lot safer with him. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” Jackson replied instantly. “What are we talking about, specifically?”
Alec made a particularly rude gesture and earned himself a glare from the woman polishing the bar. “Acting like Carmen getting tangled up with me is more dangerous than the shit her family’s dragging her through. I blew her off like an asshole.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, you did.” The waitress delivered another round, and Jackson thanked her with a smile. “Good news is, there’s probably still time to fix it.”
“Yeah, these files will make a great peace offering. ‘Hi, honey. Your dad tried to kill you and your uncle’s a spineless coward. Wanna screw?’”
His partner spewed beer all over the table. “And here I thought you were smoother than that.”
He was, usually, but Carmen scrambled his brain. She made the world blurry, like the mating urge was trying to take hold even though she wasn’t a wolf. Maybe the urge had been driving him the whole time, tying him in knots that nothing wo
uld ever undo. Making him dumb.
Only one way to find out. “I’ll polish my charm.”
“Good. I’m still putting out feelers about the witch but, like as not, we won’t hear a peep.”
“Dead ends and stonewalling. Business as usual.” Alec finished his beer and shoved the bottle away. “Anything else I need to know? Plagues? Rain of toads?”
“Nah, pestilence must have taken the week off.”
“Smartass. Just for that, you get to deal with Kat and her cousin. Keep Derek from storming the town and stirring up shit, would you?”
Jackson grinned. “You underestimate me.”
“Let’s hope.”
“Mm-hmm.” His partner slid the papers back into the satchel and handed it over to him. “In case Dr. Mendoza wants to see it for herself. I’m going to give Kat a ride and head home.”
“Sounds good.” Now all he had to do was learn how to grovel.
Chapter Ten
Carmen had just finished showering and dressing and was considering the Chinese takeout menu in her hand when the doorbell rang.
She peered through the window by the door, and her heart jumped. Alec stood on the porch, a leather folder in one hand. He was simply but neatly dressed in jeans and a black button-down shirt, and she looked down at her own clothes. Cotton lounge pants and a tank top had seemed fine for an evening in, but not with company.
Especially company that had fucked up and should now eat its heart out.
She opened the door, but held the edge instead of inviting him in. “Alec.”
He didn’t even greet her. “I’m sorry. I’m a jackass, and I’m sorry.”
Franklin must have put him up to apologizing. “I said I understood, and I do.” She raised both eyebrows. “Is there something else?”
Alec closed his fingers around the edge of the door, as if he was afraid she might jerk it shut. “You can’t possibly understand. I don’t even understand.”
Looking at him hurt, so much more when he looked at her that earnestly. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I forgive you? Just…go away, all right?”
“I can’t.” Uncertainty crept over her—his emotions, tinged with something almost like fear. “It was supposed to be clearer without you, but it’s not. Just hurts more.”
Part of her wanted to slam the door and retreat to a place where he couldn’t wound her again. “I can’t do this, Alec. What happens in another week or two when you decide that yes, you were right, your life is too dangerous for me?”
“You’re not Heidi.” His fingers tightened on the door until the wood creaked. “I could have walked away and kept her safe, but I’m so fucking self-involved I never realized that none of this shit came to your door because of me. I didn’t put you in danger, but I can protect you. Let me protect you.”
Had he really thought he was at fault? “My family’s been interfering with my life and my happiness for years. It’s not you.”
“I know that now.” He held up his other hand, revealing a portfolio. “Jackson rubbed the proof in my face. Sometimes I’m stuck in my ways. I need to have the truth smacked into me.”
She swung the door open and let him in. “I don’t understand.”
Relief flooded the room. Flooded his face. He stepped past her, his shoulder brushing her arm. “Kat figured out who paid for the house where the witch brought you.”
She opened her mouth to ask him to explain, but a flash of memory slammed into her, stealing her breath. She’d talked to her father the day of her kidnapping, had stood in the too-warm spring sunlight and argued with him.
We’re not talking about political alliances, Dad. We’re talking about the rest of my life, and I’m not for sale.
I’m sorry to hear you say that, honey.
The sadness in his voice had held a finality that made her hair stand on end. And something else he’d said had been enough to scare the hell out of her. Enough to make her call Julio.
I have to go now, but I’ll see you soon.
“It wasn’t Cesar,” she whispered hoarsely. “He didn’t know what Julio was talking about because he had no idea.”
“Your father rented the house six months ago.”
My father. Call—call my father. Please.
Where do you think we’re taking you?
Her knees wobbled, and Alec caught her with one arm. He pushed the door shut and twisted the lock, then swung her up into his arms and carried her to the couch. “Carmen? Stay with me.”
The exact words she’d wanted from him before, and the circumstances under which they came now made her laugh. It came out sounding hysterical, so she pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “Franklin said it. This has been the week from hell.”
“Yeah, it has.” He settled with her in his lap, one hand rubbing between her shoulder blades. “And I haven’t made it any easier on you by being an asshole and a coward.”
“Shut up.” She’d had the week from hell, all right, and being in his arms had been one of the few bright spots in it. “I don’t want to hear about how stupid you were. Just tell me you’re not going to do it again.”
“I’m not going to do it again.” It held the ring of truth, but regret still lingered. His fingers spread wide on her back as he sighed. “I don’t want to lay anything else on you…but there’s something else you need to know. About your uncle, and what he’s been up to.”
“Uh-huh.” It had to be more important than kissing the side of Alec’s neck, but that was what she found herself doing.
“Christ, Carmen.” His knuckles brushed her neck, and his fingers slid into her hair. “How are you feeling? Magical crap mostly gone?”
Her body responded too quickly to his touch, and she didn’t care. She’d been hungry for him before; now, she was starving. “I feel better,” she answered breathlessly. “Good.”
His eyes sparked with an interest echoed in the subtle shift of his emotions. “Good’s good.”
There was nothing between them this time, no reason to turn and walk away. Carmen took his other hand, folding both of hers around it. “This is going to sound—” No, she wouldn’t apologize, and it couldn’t be ridiculous, not with him looking at her like that. “I missed you.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up as he stroked his thumb up and down the side of her throat. “Don’t hear that very much from women who’ve spent more than a couple hours with me.”
“So you keep reminding me.” She tilted her head, baring more of her neck. “I think they haven’t figured you out yet.”
“And you have?” The callused pad of his thumb swept down toward her collarbone, then up the front of her throat. His fingers were warm against her nape. “What have you figured?”
She swallowed hard. “That you’re not crazy. You just hurt.”
His smile faded, and his hand stilled. “I think I’ve hurt so long that I might be a little crazy.”
Maybe they both were. It couldn’t diminish the heat that blazed inside her at the thought of his mouth on hers. “I’m an empath, remember?” Even as she spoke, Carmen reached up to guide his head closer. “I’d be able to tell.”
He froze with his lips almost touching hers, and no amount of urging could budge him. “What else can you tell?”
Dominance pulsed between them, and every beat of her heart answered it with growing arousal. “You want me to submit,” she whispered. “To let go of everything that isn’t you and feel.”
“Mmm.” His fingers tickled the back of her neck as he twisted his wrist, twining the damp strands of her hair around his hand. “Just enough wolf in you to bring it out. This isn’t a human game. It’s not about power. It just is.”
“I know.” He evoked it like no one else ever had, that quiet instinctive need to belong completely to someone. “It’s not control. It’s caring.”
“Always.” Hot breath spilled across her cheek as he shifted his lips to her ear. “It’s always about caring, but it can be about dirty goddamn fucking to
o.”
Blood roared in her ears, and her hands began to tremble. “You say that like they don’t go together.”
Laughter spilled out of him, low and dark. “Oh, sometimes they do. But not everything is about fucking.”
No, not everything. “Alec?”
He tilted her head back with the fingers curled in her hair, and his short beard lightly chafed her jaw as he pressed a kiss beneath her ear. “Yeah?”
“Sometimes, you talk too much.”
“That so?” His teeth scraped against her skin. “And here we are, doing the one damn thing I’m not half bad at talking about. But if you don’t like it…”
Before she could respond, he bit the spot where her neck curved into her shoulder, a rumbling growl of pleasure washing over her along with his intense satisfaction.
The forceful caress stole her breath, and she whispered a curse. “Just to clarify, we’re not starting something we’re not going to finish, right?”
“Not unless you decide to stop it.”
It was all she needed to know. She rose on shaky legs, his hand still clutched in hers, and tried to pull him up beside her. When he resisted, she growled and climbed onto his lap. “Maybe I’m going to bite you now.”
Alec just smiled and slid one hand around to the small of her back, edging her shirt up. “Take this off.”
Nothing less than a command. She watched him as she drew the thin cotton up, hesitating just before it bared her breasts. He narrowed his eyes, his gaze dark and hot, and she shivered and stripped off the shirt.
He leaned forward without a word and tugged his shirt up and over his head, baring tanned skin marked by one or two thin scars and the black ink that curled around his arm and the back of his shoulder.
She ached to taste him, so she traced the hard line of his shoulder with her fingertips, then followed the same path with her mouth.
An approving noise vibrated up from deep in his chest as he caught her hair in one hand and stroked the bare line of her spine with the other. “Gonna bite me or not?”