by Lucy Leroux
“Stop,” she muttered when the doors opened to reveal the old retired couple from across the hall. Flushing, she pushed away from him, ducking her head in embarrassment.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Isakovic.” She almost ran to her door, aware her shirt buttons weren’t done all the way.
Nina expected Dmitri to be right behind her, but he had paused in the hallway. She frowned as she realized the couple wasn’t talking to each other. They were speaking to Dmitri in their native tongue.
Mrs. Isakovic, a reserved and sour old woman, was openly beaming and feeling Dmitri’s arms, chattering.
She turned to Nina. “Finally, a nice boy for you,” she said in her thick accent.
Turning as a group, the three of them went to the Isakovic’s door.
“I’ll be right back. I’m just going to move a couch for them,” Dmitri said.
“All right.” Bewildered, Nina rubbed her eyes and opened her own door. He was back in a few minutes, holding a plateful of pastries.
She couldn’t believe it. “Mrs. Isakovic gave you food?”
“It’s tulumbe. You’ll love it.”
Shaking her head, she wondered if there was a person alive who could resist Dmitri’s charm. She’d picked up the Isakovic’s mail and watered their plants for an entire month last year when they went back to the Old Country to visit family, and she’d received nothing but a tersely written thank-you note.
“Where did you learn to speak Serbian?”
He shrugged, setting the plate down and following her into the bedroom. “It’s close to Russian. Now, where were we?”
“Moving a couch for septuagenarians gets you in the mood?”
“Around you, I’m always in the mood. And I think it’s sweet to see a couple who has lasted the test of time still happily in love.”
Nina cocked her head. “Are you always such a romantic?”
“Only with you. Allow me to demonstrate.” Dmitri pushed her back until she landed on the bed.
She was naked in ten seconds flat.
“Did Kiera call you?” he asked, pulling off his shirt.
Nina’s brain fizzled as she caught sight of his chiseled pecs and the defined grooves of his ten-pack abdomen. “What?” she asked blankly as he started on the zipper of his pants.
“I asked if Kiera called you. Did she answer all your questions and assure you that I’m healthy?”
Blinking, she raised her head. Thank God he’d reminded her. “Oh, yes, she did. And frankly, I have more questions now because little of what she said made sense.”
His brow lowered, confusion evident. “How so?”
Nina focused on his eyes to avoid getting distracted. “She kept saying those test results were normal for someone like you. And that’s exactly how she said it—‘someone like you’. Which begs the question, are there more like you? Because the only way those results make sense is if you’re part of a super-soldier program.”
He laughed. “Well, I can think of some bits of me that are super-sized,” he teased, unzipping slowly.
She giggled, despite the little jump her heart gave as he pulled his jeans down and set a condom on the bed next to her. “Why don’t we finish this discussion later?” he suggested, his voice low and full of gravel.
Now she was completely confused. “Wait. I thought the whole point of giving me those test results was to have sex without protection?”
“That was before you were ovulating,” he said, crawling over her. “And even though I have every intention of putting my baby in you, I think we should wait. I’m not ready to share you yet.”
Holy shit. Everything Dmitri said was unexpected. And the words were so cheesy. Yet after they came out of his mouth, they transformed into something capable of reducing her to a melted pile of goo. She didn’t even stop to ask how he knew she was ovulating.
Nina stroked his bare chest. He was so warm her palms pricked as if the heat were burning her.
“I don’t understand how you do this to me,” she whispered.
He pressed his lips to hers in an aggressive kiss. “It’s magic,” he said.
Nina laughed again, stroking his broad shoulders with hungry hands. Dmitri didn’t laugh with her.
“You’ll understand soon,” he promised. “I want to go for a drive this weekend. I have something to show you.”
“What is it?”
“Later. You have to see it to believe it. But once you do, you’ll know we’re meant to be. Forever.”
He stopped talking then, dipping his head to take her mouth more aggressively. Her vision blanked out. All she could do was feel.
His hands roamed over her body, caressing her curves wherever his lips didn’t reach. She bucked as he took one nipple in his mouth, then the other, sucking and grazing them with his teeth. Her pulse beat in time with her breath, her heart nearly seizing when he parted her legs, fitting his thick shaft to her entrance.
His possession was a little rough, but she didn’t care. Nina wrapped her arms and legs around him, trying to get closer as he ground against her, working her pussy with deep hard strokes. All too soon, she was there, clenching around him with a mindless shout as her orgasm powered through her.
Dmitri flipped her over until she was on all fours, panting. “This time, I want you to scream my name. Louder.”
She was happy to oblige.
Chapter Nineteen
Dmitri couldn’t believe it. Cass had come up empty.
He’d been up for hours, ever since Nina had been called into the hospital for an emergency surgery shortly before dawn. He dropped her off himself despite her insistence she could summon a car, then he’d gone back to the Caislean for a few more hours of shut-eye and to wait for Cass’s message.
“What do you mean—there was nothing on the collar?” he asked when she finally got in touch.
His assistant’s frustrated hiss could have cut glass. “I told you. I found plenty on the auction. I’ve confirmed Edwards, Genevieve Burgess, and another man named Wilcox participated. I am close to getting the last one. But the collar itself is a no go. Nothing on its provenance or history, not even on the dark websites that have been reliable for this sort of thing in the past.”
Well, fuck. “I need to know what that thing is. I can’t even tell what the stones in it are from that picture.”
They looked like rubies, but could have been garnets. Regardless of their size, they couldn’t account for the amount Edward and other auction participants had spent.
Dmitri was racking his brain to explain why everyone was so crazy to get their hands on the collar when the silence on the other end of the line was interrupted by an impatient grunt. “Earth to Dmitri. You done wool-gathering? Or is your mate there?”
He glanced at his watch. “No, she’s probably cutting someone open around now. She got called into the hospital.”
Cass whistled, reluctantly impressed. “Are you really going to stay with her?”
He pulled the phone away long enough to scowl at it. “Why the fuck would I leave her? You just said it—she’s my mate. Where she goes, I follow.”
She clucked her tongue. “Simmer down, doofus. I meant are you going to stay in Boston with her? Think about it. It’s a big city. You’d be an urban wolf and frankly, I don’t see that. I know you. You need to run. Do it in town and you’d have trigger happy humans taking shots at you all the time. That or they’d be freaking out and calling animal control. Access to the woods is not easy when your mate has to go work in a downtown hospital at all hours.”
Trust Cass to find the black cloud on the horizon. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. Nina hasn’t even seen me shift yet.”
“Well, maybe she should. If it doesn’t melt her little human brain, then you can bring up what a terrible idea living in Boston is for you.”
He grunted, mulling it over. After last night, he knew her job was under threat. What if, instead of taking steps to level the playing field, he did nothing? She’d even asked
him not to interfere. He could be selfish and bring up moving if she was passed over for promotion.
Dmitri owned property all over the world. He even had some on the Pacific coast near Portland. The edge of the land wasn’t that far from town. Instead of living in the cabin in the middle of the property, he could build a big house at the edge. From there, it would be an easy commute to the city center. There was bound to be a hospital she could work at. In all probability, there would be several that would kill to have a superstar of her caliber.
Don’t go there. Nina deserved that prestigious fellowship. She’d worked all her life for it. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least make sure no one stole it out from under her.
“How many bidders were there in the auction again?”
“Four. Edwards, the Burgess woman, Wilcox, and another party I haven’t identified.”
Dmitri started gathering his gear. “Get me Wilcox’s address. I’ll start there while you track down the final name.”
“What about the collar? Any other ideas where I should start?”
He’d have to mark this in his calendar—the day Cass asked for help. It might have been the first time. But in this case, he had a better idea.
“I have another source, one I should contact directly. Alec Broussard.”
Cass gagged. “Not the vampire Alec Broussard.”
Dmitri shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him. “He’s a friend. And he’s an expert in antiquities with a photographic memory. He has access to museum collections around the world. If anyone has heard of this ugly thing, it’ll be him.”
“Suit yourself. You know…it’s a good thing you’re not part of a pack. Consorting with bloodsuckers would get your ass kicked out.”
“I’m well aware,” he drawled. “That’s why I prefer being a lone wolf. Text me Wilcox’s address. If he has the item, I want to know ASAP.”
His phone buzzed moments later. “Done. You won’t have to go far.”
He found out what she meant when he put the address into Google maps. Hammish Wilcox lived in a penthouse in a building down the block.
Dmitri didn’t get a chance to break into Wilcox’s place that morning. He was sidetracked by an irate vampire.
He had emailed Alec Broussard before he set out, never expecting the vamp to get in touch less than a minute later.
“Where is it?” Alec asked, almost yelling.
“Hey.” Dmitri held the phone away from his ear. “Sensitive hearing here. Can you watch the volume?”
“Sorry. But I need it back. It’s extremely dangerous.”
Dmitri set down his bag, taking a seat on the bed. “Back? Is it yours? And it’s a necklace. How dangerous can it be?”
“It’s not a necklace. Well, it’s supposed to go around the neck, but that thing is not an adornment. It was stolen a few months ago from the Elemental archive, along with several other items.”
“Fuck,” Dmitri muttered. As if this couldn’t get any worse, here was proof it could.
There were only four Elementals working at any given time—Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. Four were more than enough, though. The bad-ass female warriors kept the supernatural world in order, making sure the populace maintained their Covenant with Mother Nature. The latter was basically the ten commandments for the magically inclined.
Dmitri heard rumors about a dangerous Elemental artifact ending up in a shifter pack earlier in the year. The idea that more than one was out in the world was enough to make him want to update his will.
“So it’s a weapon, like that staff that caused so much trouble in the Maitland pack not too long ago? The one that killed one of their enforcers?” Dmitri was a lone wolf, but he was on good terms with the Maitland clan and he’d heard about their dilemma.
“No. It’s worse. That collar was confiscated from the Delavordo family.”
Double fuck.
Witch lines rose and died out with regularity, just like shifter ones, but seven families had stood the test of time, founding dynasties that survived to this day. The Delavordos were the worst of the lot, yielding some of the most notorious black witches the world had ever seen.
If this collar was theirs, it was evil.
“Can you cut to the chase? What does this thing do? I’m burning daylight here.”
If Wilcox was at work, these were precious hours Dmitri could be spending casing his place.
“So, you don’t have it yet?” Alec asked.
“Not yet, but I will soon.”
“I take it you were hired to find it.”
Unlike his mate, Alec knew his true profession. He’d even hired him a few times. “I was. But the first person I was supposed to acquire it from was dead and the item was gone.”
“Who was it?”
“Genevieve Burgess.”
“Damn it, Dmitri. Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier!”
“Hey, I can’t run all my jobs past you on the off chance it involves a witch or Elemental business. I certainly didn’t expect it on this one. The man who hired me is human.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he hissed indignantly. “And how dare you insult my sense of smell.”
Alec snorted. “Could he be a practitioner in disguise? Maybe he’s masking himself.”
“Not a chance. I would be able to smell the magic of the charm. There was nothing like that on him.”
“I don’t know; there’s some crazy masking spells out there these days. Remember Toulouse?”
He did, but Dmitri was sure this was nothing like that. Edwards was human. Period.
“He wouldn’t have had time to cast a spell or activate a charm,” he added. “I caught him off guard.”
“All right, I believe you. But that thing can’t stay out in the world. If you find it, you have to return it. It can’t go to your client.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
Cass was going to hate missing this commission, but even she would agree it was better not to get on the Elemental’s shit list. Any one of them could knock him on his ass with one hand tied behind their backs.
Also, they were the good guys. If they said this thing belonged under lock and key in their care, he wasn’t going to argue.
“Damn, I can’t believe Genevieve is dead,” Alec muttered.
“Did you know her?”
“I met her once a few decades ago. She seemed like a nice woman, for a witch. She liked to collect antique porcelain. And though she was a known practitioner, it was nothing questionable. I wouldn’t have pegged her as someone who would buy a Delavordo artifact.”
But as a member of the Burgess clan, she would have some idea of what it did and how to use it.
“So, what is it?” And why would a human like Edwards want it so badly?
Alec was quiet a beat too long. “I wish I knew the answer to that. Regrettably, the records for the collar are incomplete. Given what happened, they were probably intentionally misplaced or destroyed. It’s been hell trying to piece together a complete list of items stolen, let alone what they all do.”
“Shit. I had no idea it was so extensive a theft.”
Not to mention, a thief of Dmitri’s caliber should have heard about a heist of this nature. The Elementals must be pissed. When they found the person who stole from them, it was going to be a bloodbath.
“Well, the Elementals and their archivists obviously aren’t eager to spread the word,” Alec confessed. “I trust you’ll keep this under your hat.”
Like he had a choice. “Believe me, I value my life too much do otherwise.” And there was Nina to consider.
Fuck. The truth hit him hard. Dmitri had just met his mate. Tangling with black magic artifacts was the last thing he should be doing.
But the case already involved her through her connection to Edwards, albeit peripherally.
Keep it that way. Screw the money from the commission. Keeping Nina safe was his priority.
His phone buzzed. Cass had work
ed her magic. He had the last name—Carlton Lang, a millionaire banker with a sprawling townhouse on Beacon Hill.
“Alec, I’m going to get back to you. I have a couple of leads I need to follow.”
“All right. But be careful. Take every precaution you can when you find the collar. It could be cursed. I wouldn’t even touch it.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” Dmitri muttered before clicking off.
He didn’t need the warning. Knowing the necklace came from the Delavordo clan was enough. Whatever the necklace did, it had bad mojo written all over it.
Chapter Twenty
Lang was a dead end. Dmitri had watched his house for more than a day before determining the man wasn’t even in the country. After taking the precaution of breaking into his home to plant listening devices and hidden cameras, he refocused his efforts on Wilcox—in between bouts of lovemaking with his mate.
Nina was at the hospital quite a bit. But despite her continued stellar work there, she was on edge. She didn’t say so, but he knew the fact they hadn’t announced the winner for the fellowship was bothering her.
He didn’t like seeing her worry, but the long hours apart gave him plenty of time to find the collar. But getting into Wilcox’s place was more of a challenge than he’d anticipated. The old man was retired and an invalid.
Bedridden for the better half of the last decade, the octogenarian was a retired real estate mogul who’d started out as a slum lord. Wilcox built an empire by gentrifying low-income tracts. The fact he’d displaced thousands of people in the process hadn’t kept him from gracing dozens of magazine covers in the eighties and nineties.
Karma had caught up with him, however. The rapacious old fart hadn’t been able to buy his way out of the slow and painful death sentence.
The mark rarely left his home, a palatial penthouse in a six-story Atlantic Avenue building. Unlike the private homes of the other bidders, this one was protected by armed guards in addition to a state-of-the-art security system, including fingerprint lock access to each individual floor. There were also a superfluous number of closed-circuit cameras. The only time Wilcox left his suite was a regular appointment to see his doctor every week.