“Where are you spending the night?” she asked.
“The Vanguards pack house.” Blain handed her the business card Eric had given him.
Chapter Five
The car ride to the pack house was short. Sonya parked and shut off the engine. “This brownstone seems kind of small to hold the largest pack in America.”
Blain ran his fingertips over the windowsill of the car door. Should he ask her in? He wasn’t sure what to expect inside or what kind of greeting he would receive. Best to send her away and deal with the Vanguards on his own. “Packs don’t tend to live together. A pack house is where they meet, and house guests like me.”
That was all she needed to know. Like most people, she would most likely freak about the silver cages in the basement where packs would keep those who lost control of their beast.
“Do you need help to the door?”
“No, I can manage.”
“That’s what I thought.” She sounded tired.
“You should get more sleep.” He touched her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “Exhaustion won’t save anyone.”
“Ah, sleep. The elusive Holy Grail of FBI agents. I’ll pick you up at seven. Don’t be late.”
Blain exited the vehicle before he did something stupid like kiss her goodnight. He had pushed her enough. Now was the time to allow the prey to think they were safe. Knowing when to pounce was the hard part. He wished he could call Ian or Darrell as they’d both recently mated. He wanted to know how their inner beasts acted around their females, because his was driving him nuts.
Sonya pulled away. He was glad she hadn’t insisted on helping him to the door. Some people seem too driven to do everything for him.
Like Penny. There had been a short period of time when he’d thought she was the one, but he’d seen a flash of their future together where he’d forever be smothered. He wasn’t an invalid. The whole point of bootcamp was to prove he could be a functioning member of the pack.
Not every shifter found their mate and he’d resigned himself to being alone. His wolf apparently had other ideas.
“Are you going to stand there all night?”
Blain jumped. He hadn’t heard or sensed anyone around. His reflexes kicked in and he crouched in a fighting stance. His feelings for Sonya were making him lax.
“Excellent response time. Pallas was always a good trainer.” Blain recognized Daedalus’ voice. The vampire moved like nothing he’d encountered before—not even with Pallas.
Without warning, Blain sensed the change in air pressure as the vampire lunged, and barely had time to block his punch. His bones creaked under the impact.
Daedalus tried to sweep Blain’s feet from under him but he leaped out of the vampire’s reach, landing on the stairs, ready for the next attack.
“You defend yourself well, but why are you hesitating to fight back?” The vampire’s steps grew heavier, almost sounding like a human’s.
Interesting skill.
“Because I am living on your dollar at the bootcamp.”
Daedalus’ laughter didn’t send shivers of cold fear down Blain’s spine like Pallas’ did. “Good answer, but I don’t fund Pallas. The Vanguards do. I just gave Pallas a good hard shove in the right direction. My brother and I don’t work well together.” He slung his arm around Blain’s shoulders and handed him his carry-on bag. “You have excellent fighting skills. Fascinating.” He guided them into the house filled with noise. “Everyone is excited to meet you.”
Blain’s stomach dropped. “Everyone?” He tried to slow his steps, but the vampire dragged him into the living room.
A videogame blasted in the far right corner with the sounds of machine guns and cries of the players. The scent of fresh roasted turkey whiffed from the kitchen and he heard the beat of a cook mashing potatoes. The game was turned off and a male voice swore viciously. Blain counted nine shifters in close proximity.
He dropped his bag, wanting his hands free. One never knew how a pack would respond when a stranger entered their home.
“Blain!” Eric strode into the living room. “We wanted to give you a proper welcome party. My mate tried to cook dinner, but I didn’t want you to die a food poisoning so I invited her sister to take over.”
The house was filled with lots of smells, just like the manor at bootcamp. Fantastic smells like food, beer, and popcorn. There had been laughter when he walked in—comradery, and teasing.
Blain’s chest felt hollow all of a sudden. His pack would be in full swing training right now. Were they still doing hand-to-hand combat? Hopefully he didn’t fall too far behind. Clare was probably bossing Ian around as he teased her until she lost her temper. Darrell would be sneaking into the ammunition room later in the morning to check on their weapons care. Penny probably was still hovering around Alistair while he recuperated.
The scent of two females caught Blain’s attention. They smelled almost the same, except one had a vibrant shifter flare and the other a dryer touch of a vampire.
“So this is Blain. I’m Spice, alpha female of the Vanguards.” Her voice carried a familiar authority. “This is my sister, Sugar.”
“You’re twins.” It came out before he stopped to think. He couldn’t figure out any other reason for their scents to be so similar.
The room grew so quiet he could hear everyone breathing. What had he said?
“What else?” Sugar asked. He could tell because her voice sounded like Spice’s, but soothing and with less intimidation.
Blain hooked his thumb into his belt loops. “What do you mean?”
“What else can you sense about us?” She stepped closer, into his personal space.
He aimed his blurred gaze at her, knowing most people felt squeamish at his milky eyes. “You’re a vampire.”
“Anyone who can read would know that,” a male voice shouted from the back of the living room.
Blain’s eyebrows shot up. They wanted him to prove himself. Normally, he would tell them to fuck off, but these were the Vanguards. A pack he respected for their honest dealings with the humans of Chicago. They protected the weak and chased out the wicked that the human police couldn’t deal with. They gave shifters a good name.
More importantly, they had offered him a place in the bootcamp. Given him a new pack that treated him as an equal.
He sighed. “The big mouth at the back of the room likes to lift weights. When you move, the chair creaks to the point of wanting to snap, and nature doesn’t make fat shifters. The twitchy guy next to him works delicate things with his hands. He keeps rubbing his calloused fingertips together. There’s a soft footed female behind me who has been trying to stay quiet as a mouse since I walked in, and there are two kids upstairs pretending to sleep but are really playing a handheld videogame on mute.”
Spice snorted. “Little brats.”
The others laughed and tension released as if on a spring.
“Oh and someone is pregnant.”
The laughter stopped abruptly.
“Who?” Eric demanded.
“You don’t know?” Oh shit. It wasn’t Blain’s place to reveal someone else’s secret.
“No.” Spice grabbed Blain’s collar and yanked him down to her level. “Who?”
“That’s not for me to say.” Nice first impression, Blain. Alienate everyone with your super nose. “You can always do pregnancy tests?”
Spice released him as the others denied being pregnant. “Sam-the-big-mouth, want to run to a pharmacy?”
“On it, boss lady.”
The room cleared, leaving Blain with Daedalus and Eric.
“That was awkward.” Blain rubbed the back of his heated neck. “I’ve never been known for being tactful.”
He honestly didn’t know which female gave off the hormonal scent of pregnancy. They’d all been standing so close.
“That’s an understatement.” Daedalus slapped him on the back, nearly propelling him across the room. “You have interesting skills. I almost think the b
ootcamp is a waste of your time.”
“Not at all. Pallas has taught me many new forms of suffering.” He wanted to distract the vampire from his train of thought. He didn’t want them pulling him from the bootcamp—his home.
Eric rested his hand on Blain’s shoulder. “Let me show you to your room. You must be exhausted.”
The alpha walked ahead of Blain, down the hall, away from the noisy kitchen and living room.
Blain used Eric’s scent as a guide but his foot landed on something with small wheels. His right leg dragged forward. If not for the wall to stop his acceleration, he would have done the splits and sang soprano.
Eric caught Blain’s elbow and steadied him.
It happened all so fast, Blain’s head spun. He gave the alpha a chagrinned smile. “Thanks for the save.”
“I’ll make sure the kids pick up their toys better.” Eric sounded upset.
“No harm done.”
Blain could hear and smell many things, fight like a warrior, but he could be taken down by a simple Hot Wheel toy car. He set down his bags and slowly made his way around the furniture using his hands.
“Hungry?” Eric asked.
“Always but…” Blain turned to face him. “We need to talk about what I discovered today.”
“Should you be divulging info on this case?”
“Normally, I wouldn’t, but this concerns the pack.” So much of this case could affect the Vanguards in the long run. They needed to be warned.
Eric closed the door behind him. “Tell me.”
“The killer might be a shifter.” Blain blurted it out. There was no good way of telling Eric the bad news.
“Fuck.” The alpha growled and paced the room. “This changes everything.”
“I know.” Blain sat on the edge of the bed. It also put him in a precarious position between helping the FBI and protecting the shifters from persecution.
Eric continued to pace in silence, then slowed. “Keep me apprised of the situation.” He sat next to Blain. “I’d appreciate a heads-up before things go south.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
He could sense the alpha nod. “Best thing you could do is catch this bastard.”
His presence gave Blain confidence. He and Sonya would do just that.
A weight lifted off Blain’s shoulders. He understood why so many shifters followed Eric so faithfully.
Chapter Six
The sun shone bright in the clear blue sky, which meant icy cold weather. Enough to make the tip of Sonya’s nose go numb; she wished for a tropical vacation. Someplace with lots of sand and drinks with little umbrellas in them. A place Blain could go shirtless without frostbite.
The cold didn’t seem to bother Blain. He still wore the thin winter jacket, but this time over a thick wool sweater. His breath steamed the air more than hers, as if he created more heat. She fought the urge to stick her frozen hands under his sweater and test her theory.
Blain marched ahead of her and held open the door to the office building, like a gentleman.
She matched his gesture by holding the next set of doors for him, like a lady.
He strolled by and brushed his knuckles over hers. He could have done it by accident but she doubted it. He was so hyper aware of his surroundings—it was hard to believe he could make such a simple mistake.
At the elevators, he waited. “I can’t choose which floor.”
She hit the third floor button. “What would you have done if you were alone?”
“Taken the stairs.”
Of course. She watched the numbers above change, trying to ignore his proximity. It was impossible in such tight quarters, especially with him inching closer. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Blain sniffing her hair.
“You smell like parsley.” He sounded confused. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice.”
“My cousin sent me soap as a gift. It’s herbal.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Don’t sniff me in public, especially in the office.” As a female agent, she had to fight for every inch of respect. Having a shifter visibly chasing her skirt could destroy her reputation.
The door slid open and he exited first. “But I’m allowed in private.” It wasn’t a question, rather a stated fact.
She clicked her jaw shut. The doors began to slide shut, forcing her to shimmy to squeeze through.
Why wasn’t she protesting? Because he was hot. Flirting with what was unattainable made her feel safe. There was no way he was actually interested in her. Not in this reality, but in her dreams? Oh baby…
“Blain.” William boomed out the welcome, grinning like a fool. Morning people should be shot on sight. “I’m glad Agent Camp hasn’t scared you away.”
Exactly how could she?
“She seems very knowledgeable and experienced.” Blain gave her a professional nod. From his behavior, no one would guess he had been kissing her palm last night.
“She should be.” William met her curious look. What was he up to? “She’s sent to investigate a lot of these types of cases. Her director lets her pick and choose.”
Sonya breathed through her nose, counted to ten, and let it out slow. He made it sound like she was teacher’s pet. “My director lets me pick because I get results.”
So much for the Crucial Conversation classes they’d forced her to take at the Academy so she’d get along better with her peers.
William crossed his arms. “You get results by withholding information?”
“What do you mean?” Sonya matched his stance.
Sean and the auxiliary team members kept their heads down, pretending to work while every single one was actually listening.
William held up the memo she’d left on his desk about their discovery. “Don’t you think you should have called me instead of leaving a note?” He flung it on the floor. “What else have you discovered overnight?”
“Besides my supervisor is paranoid? Nothing. I dropped Blain off at the pack house and went home for some much needed sleep. The trail is cold. Nothing would have changed by pulling an all-nighter. If this killer is a shifter, we need to reevaluate evidence and change our tactics.” She picked up her memo, fisted it, and tossed it in the trash. “That’s experience talking.”
She crossed the space between her and William, meeting his glare. In a low voice so the others couldn’t hear, she said, “Next time you have an issue with me, have the courtesy to speak with me in private. You’re the district supervisor—not my boss.”
“You’re supposed to be helping me, not making the decisions.”
“I’m supposed to catch a killer.” She turned her back on him and retreated to the kitchen.
The coffee pot sat empty on the hot plate with a crust of burnt coffee caked to the bottom. Fan-fucking-tastic. Under the sink, she found some steel wool and proceeded to clean the ever motherfucking life from the glass carafe.
William made it no secret what he thought of free agents like herself. They weren’t assigned territories—they were specialists, and her specialty was hunting down murderers. Not because she had any specific training, but because she was driven.
Those dead girls had left behind family and friends. Nothing would replace the void their deaths had left. Those mourning had to cope, just like she did. This was how Sonya dealt with her sister being torn from her life seven years prior, because her sister had matched some psycho’s profile. No ladder-climbing agent looking for a promotion was going to fuck up this investigation on her watch.
Someone laid a hand on her shoulder and she jumped.
Blain stood behind her, appearing more solemn than she’d ever seen him. Great, she’d made him uncomfortable working with the team. “Come on partner, William had me sniffing old evidence and I found something.”
How long had she been scrubbing this pot? She lifted the gleaming vessel. Yeah… “I’m not your partner. I work alone.” She filled the coffee machine and started the cycle.
He frowned. “You know, for shift
ers, being a lone wolf is the worst fate.”
“I thought some of you wanted to be alone.”
“Don’t ever believe a wolf who says that. They’re lone wolves because no pack will accept them. For a reason. Everyone needs a partner, Sonya. Let me be yours.” He cast his gaze to the ground and gave a nervous little laugh. “You know, for this case.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and retreated from the kitchen, knocking over one of the chairs.
Blind Wolf Bluff: Shifter Romance (Vanguard Elite Book 3) Page 4