by Ava Frost
“I’m tired John, really tired, I just need a break, it’s not like I’m off to Africa for a Safari,” she said irritably.
A strong firm hand coiled itself around her upper arm, and she instantly felt the rush of adrenalin race through her blood.
“Miss Jones is right, she needs a break,” Grant said stoically.
The way John’s mouth gaped open and then shut, was amusing to say the least, but the amusement soon passed when Grant pulled her aside.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded under her breath as she tugged her arm out of his grasp, “I’m more than capable of handling my own business, all you need to do is stay in the background and make sure I’m safe.”
She was blushing profusely but with a perfect temper tantrum, she was confident that the blush that fired up her cheeks could be considered a temper flush instead.
“I believe we have a few things to discuss, I’m basically flying blind here, and Brian only knows about the letters and the dead cat, I’m afraid I’m going to need at least get some sort of a profile to know who we’re dealing with here,” he said as the frown between his brows creased his forehead.
“How on earth am I supposed to help? I know as much as Brian knows, and I’m going to be late for my massage,” she said blankly before spinning around.
The quicker she put some distance between her and the epitome of Hercules over there the better, as it was her hormones were already doing cartwheels causing her ovaries to applaud his mere presence.
Chapter 4
Grant watched as Delilah marched away from him, her hips swayed as if they were beckoning him to throw her over the nearest table and have his way with her, and after the night before, chances were that he would get what he desired sooner or later. Much to his surprise, he was able to access her brains pineal gland through telepathy, something he should only be able to do with another one of his kind. It was one of the first things he learned after that fateful winter’s night, he had just returned from a special ops mission and was on his way to his father’s ranch when he came across a gruesome scene. A deserted truck left on the side of the road that bore tell-tale signs of a vicious killing. He didn’t plan on investigating the scene and considered calling the cops instead, but there was something that drew him in like a magnet. It was at the very moment that he rounded the driver’s side, when he came face to face with Lucas, who he eventually learned was a werewolf, and also evidently his sire. Everything happened so fast and when he eventually came too, he was this monster, a werewolf. And all of reality as he knew it faded into the background. Suddenly the lore of creatures that stole infants at night, and succubi sucking the very life force out of their unsuspecting victims was his harsh reality, and a cross he would have to bare for his entire life.
He snapped out of his own deep thoughts and turned his attention back to Delilah, he was still perplexed at the fact that he was able to so easily cast thoughts into her mind. What bothered him even more was the fact that his intentions were purely professional, an attempt to find out more about the person behind the pretty face and see if the stalker knows her personally, but the moment he connected with her on a higher level of consciousness, he couldn’t stop his inner beast who was craving to touch her.
“Go away!” she shouted over her shoulder as she reached her car, “You’re not tagging along.”
Grant scrutinized her and then crossed his arms over his chest. He knew that she was probably suffering from the same restlessness he’s been suffering from since the night before. And he had to admit that distance would be a win for them both, but unfortunately this was something he could not allow. But perhaps if she did not feel his constant presence and moved around freely, he would be able to get a bit more insight on her.
He raised both hands in surrender, “As you wish mi’ lady,” he mocked, but when she lowered her sunglasses and peered at him over the rim, all the blood rushed down south and his beast growled seeking out his she-wolf.
It was impossible, she was a normal woman, how could his beast possibly know whether or not she was his mate, and he know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would never sire anyone and force them to share the same curse he has had to bare for over a decade.
While Delilah went ahead to the local spa, he followed close by, but not close enough for her to detect him. While he kept an inconspicuous eye on her, he was going to have to do some research on her background. Before his arrival he tried to get as much intel on her as possible, but he wasn’t successful in that, but now that he’s had time to get into her mind, he knew one thing at least, her real identity was Mary Gunter, born in British Colombia in 1993, broken home, drug addict mother who died of an overdose when she was only fourteen, leaving her in the care of her stepfather. And that was as far as he got, until she seduced him.
He highly doubted that her family or her past had anything to do with the stalker that plagued her, if anything it was a diehard fan or foe, who would stop at nothing until she was scared shitless.
An hour later there was still no sign of Delilah, and although he was able to sense her, he didn’t like the fact that he was not able to have a constant view of her, and climbing into her mind unexpectedly in broad daylight was not an option.
Eventually he decided to get out of his truck and make his way over to the spa to check on her.
“Welcome to Petals Spa, can I help you sir?” a petite young girl asked, batting her eye lashes at him.
“I’m looking for Miss Jones,” he said as he scanned the reception area.
“Miss Jones is still busy in her session, you’re welcome to have a seat, I’m sure she won’t be long,” the young woman said, “Can I offer you some refreshments?”
“No thanks,” he declined politely and then sat down.
How was it even remotely possible that he felt so attracted to this woman, she was a spoiled brat to say the least, typical actress who spends her days in a spa because of so called stress. Granted she had stress, but he was never one for the dollied up type. He preferred natural beauty as opposed to glamor.
He impatiently paged through a magazine while he waited for Delilah to make her grand appearance and rant because he didn’t keep his promise, but he didn’t care. Sooner or later she was going to have to get used to him hanging around whether she liked it or not.
“You promised that you’d stay out of sight,” he heard the high pitched voice of the one and only.
“Promises are meant to be broken,” he smirked and tossed the magazine aside, “The way I see it, you have a problem on your hands, and the sooner we get that problem out of the way, the quicker I can be out of your hair.”
When he then looked up, he had to fight to keep his composure. She looked radiant. Her hair was hanging loosely over her shoulders, the scarf she wore earlier to hide her identity was gone.
“I see you recovered from your bad hair day,” he stated.
“Don’t get cocky with me,” she blurted out and flashed her credit card to the girl who was openly staring at him.
“Sweetheart, if I wanted to be cocky, I would. That was an observation,” he said.
His words were barely cold and he was sure she would hit back with some sort of a comeback, but the sense of dread that washed over him only meant one thing. The hairs on his arms stood up and he knew they were no longer alone. Frowning, he spun around and glanced out into the street through the shop window. There was no sign of his nemesis, Lucas, his sire, but he could sense him. For years now, there had been no sign of him, so what brought him here now?
“Wait here,” he instructed Delilah and stepped out.
“I will not…”
He spun around and glared at her, “It’s not a request. Wait. Here,” he ground out and then turned to the girl behind the counter, “Make sure she doesn’t leave until I say so.”
Both women stood looking at him with shock etched on their faces, neither of them attempting to make a move. Grant exited the store and
then scanned the street; Lucas was close enough for Grant to pick up his scent. He quickly walked to the corner of the street and then stopped in his tracks. He was right, Lucas was here. Although Lucas was his sire, he had no love for him, he had managed to break the bond he had on him enough for him to break away from the pack, but they were still connected through blood.
Lucas stood across the street, as usual with his hands folded aristocratically behind his back, wearing a trench coat and a hat, and the slight incline of his head towards Grant, made him seethe in anger.
“What is the purpose of your visit?” he asked his sire telepathically.
“Is that how you greet an old friend?” Lucas responded, staying in one place.
“Stop playing games, why are you here?” Grant asked bluntly.
“I’m sure you know exactly why I am here.”
Grant had no idea, but somehow he suspected that this had to do with Delilah, and the mere thought of Lucas getting his dirty hands on her had him raging within. But instead of acknowledging his suspicions he decided to pretend to have no clue.
“No I don’t, but whatever your business is, this is my town and you’re not welcome here.”
Lucas threw his head back and laughed then casually approached Grant until he stood only a few feet away.
“I suppose I will have to leave you guessing for now,” Lucas said amusedly, “I’ve been trying to reach you for a while now, you’re quite clever at keeping a low profile. But becoming a lapdog for an actress is not going to help you here, now is it?” he said out loud.
“What I do is my business, so why don’t you tell me exactly what it is you want?”
Lucas cocked a brow and smirked, “I’ll leave you to figure out the details, but that actress you are following around appears to have a price on her head.”
Grant balled his fists, fighting the rage that was threatening to set his beast free, “What price?”
“Now you see, that is what I’m here to find out,” Lucas stepped to the side and looked towards the spa.
In one swift motion, Grant pinned Lucas up against the lamppost, “I suggest you stay far away from her, or I swear to you, I will kill you with my own bare hands, even if it will cost my own life.”
Lucas remained calm and gently pried Grant’s hands away then fixed his collar, “Now that won’t help Mary one bit, so there shall be no killing or dying here today. Word of advice Grant, keep your eyes open and your ears to the ground.”
Grant frowned as Lucas casually turned and walked the opposite way without as much as glancing back. Something was wrong, if Lucas wasn’t the only one looking for her, then who was?
“I don’t like being ordered around.”
He was not surprised that Delilah did not stay put as she was told, and as he turned around to face her, he gripped her wrist firmly and dragged her along, “I would not order you to do anything unless I thought your life depended on it,” he scowled and then took her purse, “Give me your keys.”
“No!” she said and tried to tug her bag out of his hands, but he held firm.
“I’m driving, whether you like it or not,” he dug around in her bag and once he found her keys, he shoved her bag back into her hands, “Get in.”
This time she did not protest, with a slight huff and a mumble she walked to the passenger side and got in.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or am I going to have to make you tell me?” she demanded as she fastened her seatbelt.
“Honey, if I knew what was going on you would be the last person to be kept in the dark.”
With that he sped off towards the filming set. He needed to find out exactly what Lucas had to do with Delilah.
Chapter 5
Shady part of town…
In a small pub downtown, Lucas sat waiting for Morrey. Smoke twisted artistically, forming clouds and curls in the gloomy dimly lit place. Behind the bar stood bottles filled with amber liquid decorating the shelves. The music was deafening, and men and women alike crowded the place like a bunch of pigs. He hated coming to such a pathetic place and having to mingle with these drug mules and addicts who think life is a curse. If they could just see what lays beyond the dark night where mortality is no longer a question and death evades you like a distant memory. He hated the day he was changed, but he learned to embrace it. Being a werewolf has its advantages, but also its disadvantages. If only he could figure out how Grant broke the sire bond with him, then he could also be free of Morrey, but here he was, waiting for his sire, and doing his evil bidding.
“Did you find her?” a disembodied voice echoed in his mind.
He didn’t answer, simply turned in his seat and waited for Morrey to make his appearance. Once the older man entered and came to sit next to him he signalled the barman to top up his drink.
“I did, but we have a problem,” Lucas said and took a sip of his whiskey.
“Sort it out then,” Morrey said flatly.
“Easier said than done, Grant is her protector and he won’t let her out of his sight.”
“That would be your problem, not mine. The order has clear instructions and they want the Omega,” the older man said.
Lucas rubbed his earlobe and leaned on the counter with one arm, “I’ll get it done, I just need time.”
“Time is what you don’t have. Either get the woman, or I’ll have to get someone capable of doing the job.”
Morrey didn’t wait for Lucas to respond, simply stood up and walked out. Lucas hated the fact that he had to do the bidding of his sire more than he hated being a werewolf, but he had little or no choice.
Chapter 6
Delilah sat at her dresser and looked at herself in the mirror; she never expected fame to come with such pressure, normal pressure was related to learning a script, or getting the delivery of the dialogue right. But being stalked and having to get bodyguards only ever happened to gangster rock stars. This was also her first ever leading role, so it made no sense.
A knock on her door drew her out of her thoughts, it could only be one of two people, and she wasn’t looking forward to either one.
“Come in,” she called and turned the lights of her dressing mirror off.
“Hey,” Grant greeted and held up a brown paper bag, “I got you some dinner, can we talk?”
That was touching; she thought to herself and stood up, “I guess it’s not like you’ll just go poof!”
He laughed and her insides went on a rollercoaster ride.
“I wasn’t sure if you’re the type who watches the pounds or if you like the occasional good old fashion take-out, so I got, wait for it…” he paused and opened the brown paper bag, “Greek salad and ta-da! Chinese duck and noodles.”
She scrunched up her nose and reached for the Chinese, “Do I look like I need to diet?” she said laughing, “I’m not a goat, so you can help yourself to the greens.”
Grant chuckled and shoved the Greek salad aside, “That settles it then, I guess that beer doesn’t go with either of the meals I chose, but I figured you could use some.”
This time she raised a brow, she had never been one for beer, “Thanks, I think, but I’ll pass on that.”
“Come on now where is your sense of adventure? One beer, that’s it.”
She couldn’t help but smile, somehow between earlier in the day and now he had accomplished a successful ice breaker. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought; after all, he was really just doing his job.
For the first time since Grant’s arrival she felt safe, which was strange considering she hardly knew him. There was a moment of silence as they both ate dinner, neither of them wanting to say a word, but it was Delilah who first shredded the silence.
“So how did you get into this line of work?”
“It just happened, I was in the military, did my time and then went rogue,” he said and chuckled, “I guess I just didn’t want to stick to the regimental ways they have you conform to when you’re there.”
“So
you’re more the rule breaking rebel,” she said raising a brow.
“I guess you could say that,” he said and rode back on the bench.
Delilah tried everything to keep her eyes on her food, but with him in such close proximity, especially after the dreams she had, it was no easy task. She scraped her food around on her plate, took another sip of beer, glanced around the trailer as if she was going to find something new to admire, but every time, her eyes came to rest on his face.
“Well, that’s me done, I need to get to bed,” she said trying to fib an excuse for him to leave.
“Go ahead; I’ll hang around for a few more minutes. You know, make sure there are no dead cats in your trailer?”
She laughed and shook her head, “Take a look, there’s nothing in my fridge.”
Grant got up and squeezed past her. This close up, he was even taller than normal, and she caught a hint of his masculine scent that momentarily left her breathless, not because he smelled so damn good, but because her dream didn’t lie, it was like the scent of him was imprinted in her brain.
When he opened the fridge he frowned, and she instantly took a step closer, but he blocked her view of the fridge.
“What is it?” she asked nervously.