Sweet Discovery (The Jessica Sweet Trilogy Book 2)

by Aliya DalRae

  “The sins of the mother paid for by the son. The blood of Evil runs through the veins of your love, and the Beast walks the earth once more. What was past becomes present, he who was wronged seeks revenge. Beware the man you think you know.”

  Okay.

  Lockman closed his eyes again, and he opened them a few seconds later, blinked a few times, and smiled. His eyes had returned to their original color, and he seemed rather pleased with himself.

  “Well?” I asked, pulling my hand out of his grasp.

  “Well what?” he said, leaning back in his chair again and rubbing his temples.

  “Well, what the hell did that mean?” I was more confused than ever.

  “I’m sorry, I never remember what I say. Didn’t I mention? No? Well, never mind. I always tape…” Lockman reached for a recorder on the table, one I hadn’t seen for the Kleenex box it was sitting behind.

  “You mean you recorded the whole thing?”

  “Of course,” he said, nonplussed. “How else would you retain what I’ve told you?” He ejected a little miniature tape from the recorder, returned it to a tiny plastic case, and handed it across the table to me. I took it from him and held it tightly in my grasp.

  “Does Mason know you record your sessions?” I was panicked. What if this wasn’t the only tape? I asked as much, not expecting an honest response.

  “If you’re concerned, you’re welcome to call him,” he said handing me his cell phone. “Speed dial three,” he added. I wondered who one and two were, but didn’t ask. However, I did take the phone, and dialed three for Mason. It was nearing dusk, so I hoped he was awake. The phone rang once, twice, and again before someone picked up.

  “Mason’s phone,” a gruff voice said, and I recognized it right away.

  “Harrier?” I asked to make sure.

  “Who is this?” he said, not bothering to confirm.

  “It’s Jessica. I need to talk to Mason.”

  “He’s busy. Talk to me.”

  “I…” I looked at Lockman, and he motioned me on. “I’m at the psychic’s—Mr. Lockman’s?”

  Harrier didn’t reply due to some commotion on his end of the line, but I went on as though he had.

  “I wanted to make sure you all knew he was taping our session.” I blushed, feeling stupid all of a sudden. Was I really questioning one of the Legion’s resources right in front of the man? I did hear Harrier ask someone in the background, though, and that made me feel a little better.

  “Yeah, Mason knows. And he says he wants the tape. You want to bring it here, or should I stop by tonight and…” I couldn’t hear what he was saying due to a loud roar in the background followed by a tremendous crash.

  “Do you mind?” I asked when Harrier returned to the phone. I didn’t want to chance running into Raven right now, especially since he was obviously in a mood.

  “Not at all, my sweet.” He was being deliberately flirtatious, and I could hear Raven demanding the phone. “Two things. Make sure that the black cat and the red head aren’t around. I don’t think I can handle a repeat of last night. Gotta go!” He gave an evil laugh and I heard another crash before the line went dead.

  “I’m sorry I questioned you,” I told Lockman as I handed his phone back to him, trying not to think about what was going on at the Legion Compound. “Lately, I never know who to trust.”

  “Caution is always wise, especially when dealing with Others.” He said it so that the capital was implied.

  “No shit,” I said, my thoughts wandering back to the tape. “Question,” I said. “If we listened to this together, would you be able to tell me what it means?”

  Lockman shook his head. “Even with the background information you provided, it would only be conjecture on my part. I’m afraid it’s up to you to sort it out.”

  “Figures,” I muttered, staring at the little cassette I was turning round and round in my hands.

  “Might I offer you a bit of advice?” I looked up to see Lockman studying me, his kind eyes softening as he picked up on my emotions. I nodded.

  “It’s never wrong to follow your heart.” He stood up and motioned for me to follow. I guess we were done here.

  “Is that psychic advice?” I stood as well, shoved the tape into my jeans pocket, and reached for my jacket.

  “No, merely an observation.”

  “What if my heart is at war with my instincts?” I asked, following him to the stairs.

  He smiled that pleasant smile and said, “Follow the one that is the strongest.”

  For a psychic, he was absolutely useless.

  Chapter Forty-One

  M ason was pacing his office, kicking the debris left by the recent scuffle so hard that something smashed against the wall. Raven and Harrier were at opposite sides of the room, Tas in between trying to calm the situation.

  Raven’s anger levels were off the charts. The male had always had a short fuse, but until recently he had succeeded in reining in that infamous temper. He thought before he struck, and he only struck out of necessity, never out of emotion. Guess they had Miss Sweet to thank for his recent reactions.

  Watching Raven now, eyes wild, chest heaving, and his black t-shirt twisted from being restrained, it was difficult to bring to mind the calm, calculated Warrior from before. Had it really only been a couple of months? He had hoped that meeting the girl would be good for Raven, that having something to live for would compensate for the loss of his failsafe.

  He didn’t want to think it, but seeing Raven like this, it was only too easy to imagine him killing again, enjoying it. Killing because he enjoyed it.

  Mason shook his head and stopped pacing long enough to glare at Harrier. The Warrior leaned against the wall opposite Raven as though he’d had nothing to do with the destruction of Mason’s office. Other than his hair being slightly ruffled, you would never know how serious the altercation had become. He was dangerous, Harrier was, and not only because of his size. For some reason, he had taken an interest in the Sweet girl, and that would only end in disaster. Taunting Raven was just the beginning. How far would Harrier go to stick it to the male he’d despised at first sight? It was obvious he found great pleasure in torturing Raven. They were like boys on a playground, fighting over a girl with pigtails.

  Mason sighed.

  “First of all, you’ll replace everything you’ve broken. Except for that table—it was priceless. I’ll take that out of your hides.”

  Raven had the good sense to look guilty, while Harrier continued to smirk.

  “Second, Raven, you said you and Perry were going back out tonight? Find out what you can about the Jenkins girl. Talk to humans if you have to, but find out who she was with, what she was doing. I understand why you couldn’t do it last night, but I doubt Jessica will be a hindrance to you tonight. Go. Get to the bottom of this.”

  “I don’t want him going to her house alone,” Raven growled from his corner of the room. “In fact,” he said, straightening. “I don’t want him going at all.”

  “You’ve made that perfectly clear, and I’ll repeat what I said before. If she’s in danger, there is no one better to protect her.”

  “Who will protect her from him?” His eyes were changing again. Christ, would this never end?

  “Down boy,” Mason said. Harrier opened his mouth to say gods-only-knew-what, but at Mason’s glare, he closed it again.

  “Tas will go with him. She’ll be fine. But the sun is setting and I want you and Perry out there immediately. We need answers, Raven.”

  “You think I don’t know that? It’s my life they’re fucking with.”

  “Then I suggest you get to it.”

  Raven left, but not without another warning glower at Harrier, who flashed his fangs in response.

  Once Raven was gone, Harrier shoved himself away from the wall. “Ready to hit it?” he said to Tas.

  “Just a moment,” Mason stopped them. “I’ve changed my mind. Harrier, I’ll be going with you instead. Tas, I
want you to follow Raven and Perry. Watch them, watch the people around them. Perhaps from a different perspective something otherwise hidden will show itself. Keep me posted.

  “Harrier, let’s ride.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  M alcolm drove toward the Alpha’s cabin, through a dark woods on a dirt lane lit only by the periodic moonlight breaking through the trees. Being hired by the Alpha to look over Jessica was, until now, a fortunate accident, and one he didn’t question. It kept him where he wanted to be.

  However, if he was right, and Jessica was responsible for the Alpha’s kid being alive, she deserved more respect than what Dane’s mate displayed earlier. She had proven herself a friend of the Pack, not someone who needed to be spied on twenty-four/seven.

  They were watching her constantly, via Malcolm, and he was furious that he’d not questioned this earlier. If she was on their radar, it was for a reason, and with the wolves that was never a good thing. The Pack was dangerous, and here he was, aiding them, feeding them a constant stream of information. If anything happened to her because of his carelessness, Malcolm would never forgive himself.

  The lane opened up into a wide glade, the light of the nearly full moon casting the area in a silvery glow, emphasizing a large log cabin at the north end. Perhaps the word “cabin” was a misnomer; it was more like a log palace. The place was enormous, two stories tall, with a wraparound porch, and friendly, sparkling windows across the face, upstairs and down. A wide, brick chimney climbed the south side of the cabin and was currently streaming clouds of fragrant wood smoke into the forest air.

  Malcolm was probably breaking a hundred Pack rules by being here, which had him questioning his own sanity. His Overlord was going to be pissed at him for breaching protocol. Approaching an Alpha like this without an appointment was foolish at best, but he needed answers. He needed to understand why he had been hired, why the Were’s were interested in Jessica in the first place. Most important, he needed to know how they could disregard her, flat out disrespect her, the way they had. She should be celebrated for putting her own life on the line to save their children. She deserved better.

  Malcolm rubbed his chin as he stared at the cabin. Sitting in the car wasn’t going to get him anywhere, so he climbed out of the Pontiac and slammed the door. It never hurt to make his presence known on the off chance he hadn’t already been reported. He had barely reached the front of the car when he felt the air stir around him and knew for certain he wasn’t alone.

  He stopped and waited, not a bit surprised at being intercepted. He could play nice, though, and when a black wolf with silver streaks in his shaggy fur approached him, he lowered his eyes in respect. The wolf transformed in front of him, and Malcolm found himself face to chest with a large man, devoid of clothing.

  “I’m here to see the Alpha,” Malcolm said, without making eye contact. “Tell him Malcolm is here.”

  “Alpha’s busy,” the large man said, and spat on the ground at Malcolm’s feet. Nice.

  “Dane hired me to watch a girl. I have some questions.” Malcolm kept his eyes lowered, but knew without looking that he was currently surrounded.

  “Ask me,” the large man said. This was getting old. Malcolm raised his eyes, meeting the other man’s gaze.

  “I’d prefer to ask the man in charge,” he said, knowing he was challenging the wolf with his stare, but not backing down. The large man laughed.

  “Gutsy little pussy cat, ain’t ya?” he said, holding out his hand. “Name’s Butch, and I’m Dane’s Second. If you have questions about your assignment, I’ll know the answers.”

  Malcolm recognized the name. He often reported to the man, but they had never actually met. “Nice to meet you, Butch.” It couldn’t hurt to be polite. “I’ll get right to it. Can you tell me why I’m watching her?”

  Butch scratched his beard and regarded Malcolm for a moment. “Because the Alpha’s paying you to, I’d imagine.”

  Malcolm’s hackles were rising, but he tried again.

  “What is she to the wolves? Why is she important?”

  “Because the Alpha says she is.” Butch took a step toward Malcolm, his face gone from almost friendly to slightly menacing. Malcolm didn’t back up or look away. “Do you have a problem all of a sudden, taking the Pack’s money?”

  Malcolm shook his head. “It’s not about the money. She tends to get in a lot of trouble, and it occurs to me that the Pack is being less than respectful to her, especially given what she’s done for your Alpha.”

  “What she has or has not done for the Pack is none of your business.” Butch put his arm around Malcolm’s shoulders and walked him back to the driver’s side of the car. “If I were you, I would jump in that vehicle there and head on back the way you came. You’re not being paid to ask questions, and you’re being here like this could be bad for your health. If you don’t like the job, you’re welcome to quit, but as long as you’re employed by Mr. Dane, you’ll do as he says. The whys are his concern. If you can’t do that, let us know, and we’ll make other arrangements.”

  Malcolm pulled himself from the Second’s grasp and reached for the door handle. Several growls sounded in the woods nearby, but he ignored them and focused on the man in front of him.

  “Something’s going on here, and I’m not convinced it’s in Jessica’s best interest. If she’s hurt in any way, I’ll consider it an act of war, and I will seek retribution.”

  “You don’t speak for your Clowder, cat.”

  Malcolm eyed the wolf and shook his head. “No,” he said, “I speak for myself, and probably a Vampire or two.” Malcolm nodded toward the woods, climbed in the car, and drove away.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  R aven and Perry spent over an hour at Good Times, asking about Mandy Jenkins, and they soon learned that her disappearance was well documented. Not a problem, though. The Legion could deal with the human aspect.

  Still, it was time well spent. The two women who had accompanied the unfortunate girl on her last night out on the town had been quick to identify Raven as the man who had danced with their friend. Perry approached them, having a subtlety that Raven apparently lacked, namely that the young vamp didn’t scare the crap out of humans. Raven, meanwhile, stood near a table, far enough away not to be intimidating, but sufficiently close to hear what was said.

  “Your friend can’t speak for himself?” the first girl asked Perry. Raven thought her name was Megan.

  “I’m sorry?”

  The other girl—Abby?—nodded at Raven and giggled. “Tall, dark and surly over there. He couldn’t keep his hands off Mandy the other night, but obviously he’s not as confident as he wants folks to think. Tell him he should have asked for her number instead of taking off like that. If he’s come back to find her, he’s too late. She’s gone.”

  Both girls giggled, and Raven wondered what rumors were already circulating. Rumors worked in mysterious ways, and often to one’s own advantage, but that might not be the case here.

  Perry smiled at the ladies, laying the charm on thick, with soulful eyes and Crest-white teeth, and Raven swore one of them sighed. His boy had skills.

  Rubbing the back of his neck, Perry said, “Yeah, he comes off all hard-ass, but the guy’s a butterfly, really. Pussycat.” The Soldier flashed a mischievous grin at Raven, and the older male growled at the insinuation.

  Perry knew about that furball, Malcolm, and would pay for the dig. When he tuned back in, Perry was saying, “…wanted to ask for her number, but he chickened out. You say she’s gone, though? Where?”

  Both idiot humans were swooning now, and Raven couldn’t help a grudging respect for the other male’s methods of persuasion. These girls were putty. The one called Megan had sidled up to Perry and was stroking his arm, teasing. Raven watched her, thinking of Jessica, wishing she would just talk to him.

  “We think she ran away from that helicopter father of hers,” Megan was saying. Abby looked like she struggling to resist attaching hers
elf to Perry’s other arm. “He was always telling her she was stupid, and the best she could expect out of life was running the Polar King. Mandy thought different. She’s been threatening to run away for years. In fact, we thought she’d run off with your friend, but if he’s looking for her now, she must have found another way out of this shit town.”

  “Just between us?” Perry leaned closer to the girls, giving Megan a playful wink. “My friend was totally wasted that night. Did he say anything? You know, that might have been embarrassing or awkward?”

  “Nope. Never said a word,” Abby offered quickly. “Mandy was bummed, she never even got his name.”

  “Yeah, he’s quiet like that. Truth is, he has a really high voice. Sounds like a girl. He doesn’t say much if he doesn’t have to. Prefers to let the body do the talking, if you know what I mean.” The girls giggled and Perry chuckled along with them.

  “Thanks, anyway,” he said, disentangling himself from Megan’s grasp and heading back to Raven, pausing on the way to turn back and give a sly wave at the drooling twosome. He was grinning when he reached Raven, and his smile only widened at Raven’s scowl.

  “The pussycat remark was bad enough,” Raven growled, “but the voice thing was totally uncalled for.”

  “I know,” Perry laughed, a twinkle in his eye. “But it’s not often a Soldier can get a dig in on the Legion’s toughest Warrior without fear of retaliation.”

  “What makes you think there’ll be no retaliation?” Raven asked, giving the Soldier a rough slap on the back, and aiming him toward the exit.

  “We’re friends, now,” Perry shrugged, flashing an innocent smile. “Friends are forgiving.”

  Raven frowned. “Not sure I like having friends.”

  Chapter Forty-Four