Lycan's Mate: Book Twelve of the Siberian Volkov Pack Romance Series

by Caryn Moya Block

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure.”

  “Who do you think it was?” Lewis asked calmly. Was he taking her seriously?

  “Mr. Lerner from the London Diamond Exchange.” Gwen winced.

  “All right, I’m sending someone over to Mr. Thomas’s house and Mr. Lerner needs to come in for more questioning. Thanks for calling so quickly, Gwen. Gotta go.”

  Gwen frowned at the receiver. Lewis didn’t sound that upset. Would someone get to Mr. Thomas’s house in time? If she Shadow Walked, she could be there in seconds. At least she could warn him of the danger and stay until the police arrived. She grabbed her purse, slipping the strap around her arm to rest on her shoulder.

  “Where are you going?” Mischa asked.

  “Mr. Thomas’s house. Want to come with me?” Would Mischa raise a fuss?

  “I’m not letting you go alone.” Mischa frowned. Gwen walked around her desk and took his hand.

  “I know you want to argue, but if something happened to Mr. Thomas and I didn’t help him, I’d never forgive myself. It’s time to do a little Shadow Walking.” She leaned down next to her desk and found a wavering shadow. Opening a portal, she yanked Mischa through behind her into the cold of the Shadow Dimension.

  “Do you know where Mr. Thomas lives?” Mischa’s question entered her mind like a warm breeze.

  “Yes. I delivered tea to his house one day when he was ill. Quiet now so I can visualize.” Gwen pictured the little two-story brick row house in her mind. Slowly building the visualization until her feet flowed over the ground of the Shadow Dimension. In moments, they stood outside the structure. Gwen found a good place to exit and opened a portal back to Earth. Mischa shivered from the quick change of temperature as they walked up to the entrance, but didn’t say anything when she knocked. The door creaked open on its hinges.

  Mischa put his arm out to block her entrance. “Let me go first. I smell two males besides Mr. Thomas.” He sniffed the air. “Gun oil and black powder.”

  They both cautiously entered the foyer. Gwen went to call out, but a shake from Mischa’s head made her stop.

  “Gwen, I smell blood.” Mischa sent telepathically. Now that he mentioned it, Gwen smelled the coppery sweetness as well.

  The sound of movement from the living room made her stiffen. Her mouth went dry. Mischa peeked in and then hurried inside. Not wanting to be left alone, Gwen hurried after him.

  A moan from behind the couch made her rush over. Nigel Thomas lay on the floor, his chest covered in blood. Gwen quickly knelt next to her friend.

  “Hold on, Mr. Thomas. Help is on the way.” They were too late. Someone had shot him.

  “I’m going to check the rest of the house,” Mischa said.

  Gwen nodded. She looked around for a phone. They’d need an ambulance. She went to rise, when Mr. Thomas grabbed her arm. Gwen winced.

  “Promise me,” he whispered. “You will make them pay.”

  “I’ll do everything I can to find out who did this,” Gwen promised.

  “Sorry to . . . you. Beach.” Mr. Thomas exhaled. His life leaving his body with his breath.

  “No! Mr. Thomas!” Tears poured down Gwen’s face. She covered her mouth to stifle the sobs. He was dead. Her friend was dead.

  Mischa suddenly wrapped his arms around her. He cuddled her close while pulling her away from the body. Sirens were heard coming down the street. Then someone burst into the room. Gwen buried her face in Mischa’s shirt. Sobs wracked her body.

  “Police. Nobody move!”

  §

  “You just had to go over there.” Lewis paced in front of Gwen and Mischa as they sat in a small room at Scotland Yard. “Do you know how dangerous that was? Not to mention that one more time, my officer found you in a compromising situation. Even me admitting that you called in the possible murder doesn’t make it any better for you. They think you used Thomas’s phone to cover for your being there! How the hell did you get there so quickly?”

  “There is no forensic evidence that points to us being the killers. No gunpowder residue on our hands or clothes. You know we didn’t kill Thomas,” Mischa pointed out.

  “The only thing keeping you from being charged is your connection to Grigori Solovyov. Otherwise you’d both be thrown into lock-up.” Lewis leaned over the table and glared at them. “Now, tell me again what happened.”

  “We went to the door and knocked. It opened on its own. We stepped into the foyer and heard movement and then a moan in the living room. We ran inside. Mr. Thomas was on the floor behind the couch,” Gwen said. Her frustration leaked into the mating bond.

  “While Gwen stayed with Thomas, I checked the rest of the first floor. I didn’t want the shooters to surprise us. I found the back door open.”

  “Shooters? You think there were two? Why?”

  “I have a sensitive nose.” Mischa glanced at Gwen. He’d have to be careful. “There were two different aftershave smells at the door.”

  “Aftershave smells?” Lewis looked at Gwen. She shrugged.

  “Did you smell two different aftershave scents?” Lewis asked Gwen. Mischa squeezed her hand in reassurance.

  “I was too concerned about Mr. Thomas and the call. I didn’t smell anything.” Gwen admitted, sticking to the absolute truth.

  “All right, sensitive nose. What did I eat for dinner?”

  “Something with tomato sauce and garlic. You drank a beer with it. I can smell the hops.” Lewis gaped at Mischa.

  “What are you a foxhound? I don’t know what to do with you two. For some stupid reason, I think you’re telling me the truth, but I don’t know why I should believe you.”

  “Detective Lewis, I promised Mr. Thomas I’d find whoever did this.” Gwen looked at the man, a stubborn tilt to her chin. Her determination flowed into Mischa.

  “No! Absolutely not!” Lewis’s nostrils flared. “You’ve done enough. I don’t want you mixed up in this, Gwen. These men are dangerous. You stay away from this investigation.” Mischa agreed with Lewis, but Gwen would never give up this case now that her friend had been murdered.

  “Mr. Thomas was my friend. Whether I want to be or not, I’m already mixed up in this.”

  Lewis groaned. “Go home, go to work, but stay away from this case. You can leave now.” He shook his head. “I’ll have one of my men drive you home.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Gwen said. “I need some air.” She strode from the room. Mischa hurried to follow her. He opened the door and Gwen swept outside. When she would have marched off down the street, Mischa grabbed her hand.

  “Hey. We’re in this together, remember?”

  “How can he tell me to stay out of it? They killed Mr. Thomas!”

  “Gwen, it could have just as easily been you.”

  “I know, but I promised him. I promised him I’d find the killers and . . . He died.” Her lip began to quiver and tears filled her eyes.

  “I know, detka.” He sighed while drawing her close into the shelter of his arms. Great Goddess, he loved this woman. “I’ll help you find these men. I know their smell.”

  Gwen looked up at him, her eyes glistening with her tears. “You will?”

  Mischa nodded. “Where you go, I go. I know you can’t leave this alone. Your resolve flows through the mating bond. Right now, we should get some rest. We’ll make a plan of attack tomorrow.”

  “Thank you,” Gwen whispered.

  “For what, lyubov?”

  “For standing by me, for taking my needs into account. You’re a good man, Mischa Sokolov.”

  Mischa smiled. “The man who loves you.”

  §

  Gwen paused at her apartment door. She glanced quickly at Mischa before using her key to open the door. Noticing her behavior, Mischa pulled on the mating bond connecting them. Gwen felt anxious.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked while she entered the security code to the alarm system.

  “No. I didn’t expect to have you here, to ah stay the nigh
t.”

  “We can Shadow Walk to the Alpha’s lodge if you would prefer.” Mischa ran his hand through his hair. He didn’t want to intrude much further into her thoughts. If something bothered her, he wanted her to tell him.

  Gwen placed her purse on a small table next to the door. “The bed isn’t large enough for two. It won’t be comfortable for both of us.”

  Mischa chuckled. “I can shift and sleep on the floor. You don’t have to go out of your way for me, detka.”

  “But we mated. I thought you would expect to sleep together.” Gwen wrung her hands.

  Mischa walked up and gently grasped her shoulders. He looked deep into her eyes. “This is not a problem. You’ve had a hard day. What do you need from me to feel better?”

  Gwen pressed her lips together. “I need some space, Mischa. If you don’t mind.”

  “Absolutely. Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll fix you a cup of tea. Take your time. I’ll be here if you need me.”

  Gwen nodded. “Okay, thank you for understanding.” She slipped off her shoes and scooped them up before walking down the hallway.

  Mischa stepped into the kitchenette and found the electric kettle. In moments, the water was prepared to boil and he found a cup. He heard the water start in the bathroom.

  Thinking of Gwen naked in the shower made his body tighten in need. He suppressed the urge to join her. If his mate needed space, that’s what she would have.

  He waited for the kettle to finish boiling the water and poured it over the tea leaves, letting them steep. Wandering into the sitting room, he glanced around curiously. Gwen lived here.

  The bright yellow walls contrasted nicely with the red and yellow pillows sitting on a small tan loveseat. A chair and table piled with books were positioned next to the window. Mischa glanced at the titles, surprised to find two on sexual assault. He smiled when he realized he’d read the same books before coming to London.

  His mate was a strong woman. He frowned when he thought of her crying over Thomas’s body. Loyal to her friends, she’d promised to find the killers. Mischa sighed. He heard a door open and smelled a waft of lilac and sage scented steam. Gwen walked into the sitting room wearing a terrycloth robe and a towel on her head. Mischa hurried over and picked up the still steeping tea and handed it to her. Gwen settled on the love seat, the cup cradled in her hand, her feet tucked beneath her.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’ve been thinking about Mr. Lerner. If he called me.”

  “What about him?” Mischa sat next to her on the loveseat. He kept to the side, not wanting to crowd Gwen. The mating bond flowed with her sadness over her friend’s death. Only her fierce desire to find those responsible kept it from overwhelming her.

  “Well, if he was in on the diamond heist, then he’d need help. I’m not sure who he’s working with, but while employed at the Knight Tea Shoppe, I noticed he seemed sweet on the owner, Mildred Stone.”

  “You want to investigate the tea shop?”

  “Right before Mildred let me go, I heard her arguing with her brother, Henry, about money. He’s the one who told her to fire me. She said something about not having the money to pay him because of my salary. He became extremely angry.”

  “Do you know his last name?”

  Gwen shook her head. “No, but Mildred mentioned that he worked with computers. You’d need a computer specialist to bypass the security systems at the Diamond Exchange. I also remember Lerner meeting several men at the tea shop including Mildred’s brother and Mr. Thomas. I didn’t know who the others were or hear what they talked about, but it might explain someone warning me to leave London.”

  “They planned the heist at the tea shop?”

  “I don’t know, but it might be a place to start.” Gwen sipped her tea.

  “If I stole millions of dollars’ worth of diamonds. I’d be on a plane headed out of the country.” Mischa shook his head. He didn’t want to discourage her, but the thieves were probably out of reach.

  “Lerner has to stay, or he’ll look guilty. If we could get some evidence on him, we could force him to tell us who he worked with. Someone killed Mr. Thomas and you said you smelled two men. So, they haven’t left the country yet.” Gwen yawned and blinked her eyes.

  “You do realize this is a long shot. Lerner might be innocent and someone else called your office.” Mischa hated to be the voice of reason.

  “I know.” Gwen sighed. “I have to do something, Mischa. Will you come to the tea shop with me tomorrow?” She glanced at him.

  “Of course. I told you I’d help. Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll wait until you’re settled before I shift.”

  “Okay.” Gwen yawned again. She rose from the loveseat. “Don’t go near the windows. I don’t need someone reporting me for having a dog in the apartment.”

  Mischa chuckled. “I’ll be careful, detka.” Mischa got up and reached for the now empty tea mug. “Can I have a kiss goodnight?” Would she willingly kiss him?

  Gwen wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him before resting her head on his chest. Mischa held her close, needing her against him. Gwen’s pleasure spiked at his nearness. She needed him, too.

  “Thank you for sticking by me today,” she whispered.

  “I am yours as you are mine,” he replied before he kissed her on the forehead.

  Gwen turned slowly and walked down the hall to her bedroom. Mischa stood holding the empty tea mug in his hand.

  §

  Gwen rubbed the paper towel over the bodice of her prom dress and brushed away angry tears. The red punch was sure to stain and her dress would be ruined. Ruined by a clumsy oaf that had to bump into her, making her cup spill. She sighed. No use crying, it wouldn’t save the dress. She tossed the towel in the trashcan and opened the door to exit the girl’s restroom.

  “There you are, little squaw. How about we have some fun?” Chuck leered at her and pushed her back into the room.

  “Knock it off, Chuck. You already ruined my dress.” The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Gwen rubbed her arms trying to hide her fear.

  “You think you’re so much better than me. But I know your secret. You’re lycan just like me. I can smell your little bitch. Let’s see if we can get her to come out and play.” He pushed her again, harder this time.

  Gwen fell back and tripped in her high heels. She lost her balance and went down. Her head hit the cold tile floor and she cried out. Chuck fell on her, grabbing her breast and squeezing her thigh. Gwen whimpered. She tried to push him off.

  “No! Stop! Don’t! You’re hurting me.”

  Chapter Nine

  Suddenly, Chuck flew through the air and crashed into the row of sinks. He groaned as he sank to the ground. Mischa reached down and slipping his arm around Gwen’s waist, he lifted her. She shook her head. How did Mischa get here? He stared into her eyes, his blue eyes warm with love.

  “Time to wake up, lyubov moya. This dream no longer has power over you.”

  Gwen’s eyes flew open as a wet tongue licked her face. She sat up. Her nightgown had wrapped around her waist and she tugged it down. Her mind took in her surroundings, her flat in London. She killed Chuck almost a year ago.

  Mischa stood at the side of the bed in his wolf form. His front paws up on the mattress. His head cocked to the side as he watched her. His tail wagged slowly. He licked her face again.

  Gwen buried her hands in the ruff around his neck. She pressed her face into his fur. He’d come for her in her nightmare. Unbelievable. How was it even possible?

  Even now, the experience pulled away from her awareness, her fear dissolved into nothingness. Love, complete and unconditional, flowed into her mind filling all the dark places with light. Warmth and comfort surrounded her. Mischa did this for her. Tears prickled her eyes. What had she done to deserve a mate so wonderful?

  She sighed and released him, patting the bed next to her as she scooted to the far edge.

  “Come on up. I want you here beside me.�
��

  Mischa jumped onto the bed and lay spread out next to her. Gwen snuggled against him and put her arm around him. She pressed her face into his fur, taking his woodsy scent into her lungs. Peace washed over her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop these nightmares. Maybe now they will leave you in peace. You are safe with me, lyubov moya.”

  She smiled. Yes. She was.

  Gwen awoke to the smell of bacon cooking. She pushed her hair back from her face and slowly sat up. Mischa murmured something Gwen couldn’t make out from the kitchen. Then his footsteps approached down the hall.

  Gwen shivered even as her toes curled under the covers. What should she say to him? He’d come into her nightmare and saved her. It was all a dream, but now she’d always remember the satisfying sound of Chuck hitting the porcelain sink. His groan of pain as he sank to the floor. The feeling of safety that had washed over her as Mischa helped her from the floor. Almost like it really happened that way. Mischa saved her.

  He leaned against the doorframe and smiled. His light blond hair mussed as if he ran his hand through it. He wore pants and nothing else. Gwen’s heartbeat picked up. She was fascinated by the muscles of his chest and abdomen, the sprinkling of curly hair that arrowed down and disappeared below his waistline. He was beautiful.

  “Good morning, detka. You look lovely.”

  Gwen snorted. “Yeah, right. Morning isn’t my best time.” Embarrassed, she tugged on her nightgown, trying to get it to lie flat, then ran her hand through her tangled hair.

  “I brought you a cup of your favorite tea and I have breakfast ready in the kitchen.” Mischa walked over to the bed.

  Gwen accepted the warm mug and sniffed the lovely scent of bergamot wafting from the brew. It smelled heavenly. She sighed, her eyes closing in contentment.

  “Why don’t I bring a tray in here? I can see you’re not ready to move yet.”

  Gwen smiled. “Thank you, that would be nice.” Mischa always seemed to know what she needed.