by Celia Kyle
At last, her eyes fluttered open, and Dane was there, studying her face.
“Did you…” she asked.
“No,” he said softly, a wicked smile playing at his lips. “Not yet.”
And then he pressed into her again.
Seventeen
After his own surrender, and two more of hers, Aurora lay loosely in Dane’s arms. The curtains wafted around them, soothing them as their breathing slowed. Aurora could feel Dane’s heart beating under her cheek as she shut her eyes to drink in the sound of it.
He traced his fingers lightly along her back in lazy, aimless circles. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so content. Or secure. Only in that moment did she really feel how much anxiety she’d been carrying in her heart. Now that her muscles had slackened with release, she realized how tightly she’d been holding herself.
It was as if she’d been reborn in the arms of this gentle, powerful wolf. And, she hoped, he in hers. Her mind wandered freely, exploring all the little nooks she so often kept shut. And then, something caught the line of her mind, and her eyes snapped open.
“I wonder what the bigger picture is.”
“Bigger picture?” Dane lifted his head from the mound of pillows to look down at her. “Are you saying my junk wasn’t big enough for you?”
“Language,” she said, giving his ribs a playful slap.
“I didn’t use any naughty words.”
“Innuendo counts, you wolf.”
“Guilty.” He grinned, dropping his head back. “So, what bigger thing are you talking about?”
“It’s something you mentioned earlier. You said Mr. Abernathy’s murder let us know this was bigger than just some theft. So... what’s bigger?”
“Huh,” he stopped the grazing lines of his fingertips and planted his palm between her shoulder blades. Almost without meaning to, she snuggled even closer. So close she could feel him thinking.
The solidity of his body hummed beneath her, almost lulling her into a daze where she needed to have him again. Her own skin still tingled all over with the satisfaction of making love to him. It would be so easy to tip headlong into more and not feel a bit bad about it. To let the world spin.
“You know,” he said, “I hadn’t started chasing that particular thought just yet, but now that you mention it…” He patted her back, and she pulled back so he could sit up. “There’s a pretty clear way we could start finding out.”
“What’s that?”
Dane turned to look at her, and his eyes softened. Whatever he was going to say seemed to evaporate.
“What?” she asked, suddenly feeling his gaze on her.
“Nothing. It’s just... You look so good.”
Aurora was braced on her elbow, a corner of the sheet tugged across her hips. She followed his own gaze down to the generous curve of her breasts. His attention made her blush, but the last thing she wanted to do was cover herself. She’d never felt more beautiful than she did under his gaze.
“Is that going to help us? The way I look?”
“It couldn’t hurt,” he answered with a roguish smile. Then, shaking his head, he brought his eyes back up to hers. “But if we want to get an idea who killed Theophilus Abernathy, following Finch would be a good start.”
The intrigue of it excited Aurora, but her natural reticence crept back into her chest. As much as setting off together tempted her, propriety held her back.
“It feels like taking things into our own hands might be a violation of some sort of protocol. I’d hate to get in trouble over this.”
“Just a bit ago, you told me you weren’t even sure you were going to keep your job. If you think the OCJ is going to fire you anyway, what can it hurt?”
She couldn’t help but pull a bashful smile at the trouble still hanging over her head.
“But what about you?” she asked.
He just shrugged and made a wry face. “I’ve been in trouble before. Enforcers are used to it. Besides, if this works, it could break in both our favors. If we’re lucky enough to catch the criminal red-handed, what happened in the courtroom won’t matter. They’ll probably even forget about the fireworks.”
Aurora would have loved to know how he did it. By simply being in his presence, she felt calmer. He had the simplest way of allaying her fears and stoking her curiosity at the same time because she really did want to know.
“If we pull this off, we might just put a bad guy away and save my ass.”
“We’d better,” he said. “It’s too good of an ass to go to waste.”
She batted his knee, laughed lightly, and then scrambled out of the bed. Her clothes were strewn all over, but she set about efficiently tucking herself back into them. As she did, she could feel Dane’s eyes on her. As she fastened her bra again, he let out a sigh.
“Awful shame,” he muttered, just rakishly enough to make her knees turn to water.
He had gathered his clothes into a pile, but still sat naked to her view. A lump lodged in her throat at the sight of him. Every line of his body seemed sculpted to suit her. Even in its softness, the generous spill of his manhood drew her hungry eyes.
“Aren’t you, um…”
“What?” he asked, the picture of innocence. It was delightfully exasperating.
“Aren’t you going to get dressed?”
“Nope.” He leaned forward, proffering his clothes to her, one eyebrow raised in invitation. “I figured I’d be more useful this way.”
She could think of any number of uses for him in this state, but none of them had anything to do with trailing a criminal. However, Dane had something else in mind.
He sat up, stretched his head back, and began to shift. In one fluid glide, he left his human self behind and bristled into a golden-eyed, majestic gray wolf.
“Oh,” Aurora was caught up ever so slightly. Even in this form, he was irresistible. His fur was dense and an almost charcoal gray with a single ring of black at his collar, coming to a point at the ridge of his chest.
Fully shifted, he turned those eyes up to her, and she could see every bit of what lay behind them. Then, settling herself on the task ahead, she waved their love nest into mist and released the invisibility spell.
As soon as she did, Dane lifted his nose and began to scent the air as they walked. Aurora wondered if he had some vestige of these faculties when he was in human form. It was oddly captivating, watching him search through the air for the thread that would lead them. Carving their way back into the heart of Othercross, she saw the moment when he caught it.
His body seemed to tense and sharpen. As though a line had been cast in front of him, he became obsessed with following it. She could see how keen he was to break into a run, but he kept his pace even, never getting too far ahead of her. Aurora’s heart warmed even more. They were in this together.
The nicer parts of Othercross fell away around them. In a few short turns, they broke into the part of town where she would have feared to go alone. But with this powerful wolf at her side, she walked with sure feet.
The houses looked derelict, and the pavement Dane padded over was interlaced with cracks and weeds. Even so, he kept his head low, following the trail. At last, they came to a stop in front of a seedy, dangerous-looking bar. This was a far cry from Talbot’s. It looked like the kind of place a good girl like Aurora might walk into and never come out of.
Even in the earliest part of the evening, a low, almost fearsome tangle of voices filtered out into the street. Aurora was nervous they might actually have to go inside.
“Is this it? Is he here?”
The wolf looked up at her and then to the doorway. After a beat, he lifted his head again and closed his eyes. With a decisive snuff, he trotted past the door and picked up Finch’s trail on the other side. The farther they got from the dark doorway, the easier she was able to breathe.
The path tangled, and she got the distinct impression their quarry had been trying to shake someone. Could it be them? Was it possible the
felon had gotten wind of them and set out again? The thought only sharpened her determination to find him.
Little by little, they wound their way back into the safer parts of town. At last, Aurora found herself crossing the quad of Othercross University. She’d studiously avoided campus since her graduation, as it held no truly fond memories for her. Yet, in this wolf’s company, she kept her head high, making no effort to vanish among the ivy-covered walls.
Tucking around the far side of the Great Hall, they paced into the Othercross Gardens. All at once, Dane stopped short. The fur across his shoulders bristled, and a throaty growl rolled out of his snout. Venturing a step or two ahead, Aurora saw the cause.
Griffin Finch was there in the garden, nestled under the drooping arms of a massive willow. His throat was opened in a long, clean slit, and crimson blood spilled down his chest. It was fresh enough to still be bright and wet.
“Oh, no, Dane. How…?”
She turned back to him, but he was gone. Breaking into a run, she came around the corner of the central building before she caught sight of him. Still locked on a scent, he was cutting across the far edge of the green, moving as fast as the scent would let him.
“Dane,” she called after him. “Wait!” But he didn’t even break his stride.
Fine.
Aurora began to run in earnest, or as well as she could while holding his pile of clothes. Catching up with him wasn’t even a faint hope. She just had to keep her eyes on him. To lose him now wasn’t an option. After all, they were a team. She became more certain of that with each footfall.
Once or twice, she was only able to catch a glimpse of his hind-quarters as he sailed around a corner, but she always managed to trace him. In truth, some moments she felt like she would have been able to follow the golden link that bound them together even with her eyes closed. She might not have been ready to acknowledge the truth of the mating bond between them, but she felt it as surely as her own skin.
Rounding one last corner, she was startled to find that Dane had come to a halt. Of all places, he was directly in front of the doors of the Othercross Judiciary, sniffing intently up the steps from the street. When he spotted her, he hunkered down and shifted back into the Dane she had shared her body with.
Unfolding to his full height, she stole another look at the full glory of him. Then, remembering just how public they were, she handed over his clothes and he dressed himself.
“The trail ends here?” She was still breathless from the dash across town.
“Yeah.”
“You’re sure?” None of it made any sense to her. “Maybe we followed the trail backward?”
“This isn’t Finch’s trail,” he said, pacing to the curb, his eyes flashing golden with excitement. “This is somebody else. The scent dies right out here.” He turned to face her, and she could see his mind whirring away behind those rich, brown irises. “I think whoever killed Finch must have gotten into a waiting car.”
“So we lost him? With Griffin Finch dead, have we lost the trail completely?”
“No,” Dane said, reaching out to run a finger under the line of her jaw. “Far from it, actually. Whoever this is, I’ve got his scent now. I’ll know him the next time he crosses my path.”
Again, that pure certainty grounded her, soothing her anxiety. It made her long for the finger at her neck to stray lower. It wasn’t a way she was used to feeling, but she was ready for it to become familiar.
Eighteen
If her hot and heavy tryst with Dane earlier in the day had left her flying high, stepping back into the office brought Aurora squarely back down to earth. In fact, it seemed to open a hole in the ground and shove her into it.
Leaving Dane on the steps of the Judiciary had been awkward. Even after the profound shared intimacy, she was battling with herself over what it meant. The fact that they were right in front of where they were supposed to be their most professional selves hadn’t helped a bit. However much they may have wanted to kiss goodbye, there was no way.
So, there she sat, at odds with herself, filing away evidence from a case that never happened. All the preparation had been for naught. As her busy hands worked, she wondered how often that might happen over the course of her career.
If she still had one, that was.
It seemed more and more unlikely to her, no matter what Dane said. He had a vested interest in making her feel good, and he had proven himself very adept at that. Debilitatingly so. Even as she stood there, parts of her body still tingled with the afterglow of their lovemaking.
And it was lovemaking. There was no question as to the emotions involved, which only made things more unsettling. Nothing in her life was within her control, and after working so hard to keep herself in check, it was easy to look at things like they were spinning into chaos.
At least the pit was quiet. Given the way the other juniors were all slinking around, she half-wondered whether Paul or some other official had shouted the room down. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence when any of the brass was feeling punchy. And getting a mistrial on a sure thing would have been more than enough to cause some general punchiness.
Still, the fact that nobody had said boo to her since her return had done precious little to ease the tension in the room. The air was so thick, it had practically billowed out into the hallway when she’d opened the door.
In the midst of it all, Aurora held one certainty. Paul was going to fire her the second he laid eyes on her. She was so sure of it, she was tempted to throw her own money into the pool her compatriots had going. Her money was on less than a minute after his arrival but no tears on her part. With a hint of morose amusement, she wondered what the odds were.
“Rhonelle.”
Paul Keenan stood in the doorway staring at her with a flat expression. The rest of the juniors looked as surprised as she felt. He hadn’t banged the door open with his usual vigor. Instead, he just gestured her over with two fingers.
“Come with me.”
A quick glance at the clock told her it was smack at the end of his working day. He’d saved it for last. Aurora’s stomach sank, imagining the relish he was going to take in it, especially after such a public debacle.
His face was unreadable, but the others in the room sure were. Varying degrees of pity and victory called out to her. Just before she stepped into the hallway, she caught Gotho’s glance, and he gave her a sympathetic grimace. At least somebody was going to miss her.
They walked in silence down the hallway, Keenan not even turning to look at her. Was there some conference room where they did the firing? Would there be more superiors there to make it all official?
At last, he stepped through the doorway to the cafeteria. Perplexed, Aurora followed him into the open, fluorescent-bright room. Stepping up to the counter, he looked at her for the first time.
“Regular or decaf?”
“Um. What?”
He shrugged lightly at her and turned back to the woman at the register.
“Two regulars. Leave room.”
Coffee in hand, he trod over and crammed his hand into the bins, coming up with a handful of creamers and more sugar than it would take to bake a cake. That done, he picked a table in the big, empty room and slumped into a chair.
Aurora hovered opposite him, her own mug clutched between her hands like a shield. Paul ran a hand over his head and only then seemed to notice that she hadn’t taken a seat. He waved a loose hand toward the chair opposite him.
“Rough day, huh?” he said as she settled herself. “Too bad, really. Still, don’t let it get you down, Rhonelle. Some days you eat the bear and some days the bear eats you.”
She was gob smacked. His expression was sympathetic in a way she had always thought beyond him. Was it possible she wasn’t here to get canned?
“Excuse me, sir, but…am I fired?”
“Fired?” His eyebrows shot up as he peeled back the top of one of the creamers. “Are you kidding? Look, if we fired everyone who ca
ught a bad break, this building would have a For Sale sign on it. Fuck that.”
Only then did Aurora realize she’d been holding her breath. Reaching out, she tentatively took a thimble of creamer for herself. The coffee at the Judiciary was far more bitter than what she made at Hollow House, so she watched him hard to see how he made it more palatable.
“Look, you’ve been busting your ass over this thing. Don’t think I didn’t notice. What were the chances old Abernathy would end up dead over it? That’s nobody’s fault. Well, it’s somebody’s fault, but certainly not yours. From what the coroner tells me, he was in the drink days before the trial started, so you’re off the hook for not bringing him in too.”
Relief flooded into every crevice of her body. After the fierce look she’d seen earlier in the day, it was as if she was sitting opposite a completely different man. He looked older, but far more relaxed. Almost paternal.
“You’re a good kid, Aurora. Okay if I call you that?”
“Sure.” She burned her lips just a bit, and went for more creamer to cut the acrid taste.
“This stuff is shit. Ain’t it? You get used to it, I guess. So... get used to it.” He smiled at her perplexed look. “Look, you do good work. I didn’t want to give you a big head, but more than being a smart dresser got you the gig. So this one didn’t break in your favor, but at least you found the body.”
“And... that’s a good thing?”
“Are you kidding?” he said again. “You’ve been moping around, wondering if you were gonna get fired. Haven’t you? Lemme tell you something, Aurora. What you did today was legendary. And I don’t fire legends.”
“Really?” She blushed, tucking her chin, but he just let out a full-throated guffaw.
“Come on! You pulled the body of a missing witness up from the bottom of the sea while bungee jumping. If that’s not some epic shit, I don’t know what is.”