Air: The Elementals Book Two

by L. B. Gilbert

  Still adorable.

  Connell flared his nostrils. What the hell was he supposed to do now? There was no trace of a lie in her scent. And despite losing his wolf, he could still tell when others lied to him. Like Riley. And he knew from first-hand experience what a skilled liar she was.

  Logan had to be telling the truth. And if she wasn’t, he didn’t have another alternative. The witches his pack contacted after his attack hadn’t known how to help him. The healer his father had found had taken one look and said it was beyond his skill. He had nothing to lose by telling Logan what little he knew.

  “I don’t know how it happened. Whatever it was, I was out for most of it,” he said, reaching for the quiche at the end of the counter. It was ham and tomato, conveniently cut into quarters. He inhaled one piece and reached for another.

  “Help yourself, why don’t you?” she said in a neutral tone as he bit into the second piece.

  “I’ve tracked you through four different countries. I’m hungry,” he growled.

  The thick wedge was good. So was the dirty look Logan was giving him. It made him feel alive again.

  “You know you’re replacing that, right?” she asked, her hand on her hip.

  He didn’t answer in favor of plowing through the third piece of quiche. Generously, he left the last quarter for her. He was reaching for the cookies when the imp took a mixing spoon and smacked his hand. Hard. Smiling, he grabbed the cookie anyway.

  Logan’s face was flushed red now. His smile grew wider. Connell was suddenly enjoying himself. She tapped her foot, waiting for him to finish the cookie with crossed arms. When she uncrossed them and started drumming her fingers on the counter, he started talking.

  “Three months ago, I was taking a night run in the woods outside the family compound. You know where it is?”

  The Elementals supposedly kept tabs on his kind. They knew where all the major concentrations of Supes lived. She nodded once, and he continued.

  “I was alone,” he said, not bothering to mention why. Most of the pack ran in pairs or groups, but Connell often ran alone when pack politics and family obligations got to be too much. He’d been running alone a lot in the last few years.

  “Go on,” she said, reaching for the last piece of quiche before hopping on the counter.

  Following her lead, he sat on the marble counter he’d been leaning on. “I was about twenty miles from the pack house in the densest part of the woods. There was nothing unusual. No strange sounds other than those of the forest. No one was near. I would have smelled them. All I remember was a bright light. It was a little greenish in color. And then I was out. I woke up the next day in human form. And it was gone. I couldn’t change back. My wolf was gone,” he finished, dropping his head into his hands.

  He couldn’t meet her eyes. If he saw pity in them, he’d go ballistic.

  “Are you sure you would have noticed anyone nearby if you were running?” she asked. “Your kind moves faster than normal wolves. What do you clock out at? Forty-five or fifty mph?”

  “Seventy,” he said, looking up to see her skeptical smile.

  “Like cheetah speed?” she asked.

  Most werewolves only ran ten or twenty miles faster than normal wolves. Seventy mph was unheard of, but he’d always been advanced.

  “I said seventy.” It was close to a growl. How dare she doubt him?

  “Okay, right, so you’re sure? No unfamiliar smells?” she asked

  He reviewed the night in his head and shook his head. “No.”

  “And no familiar ones that shouldn’t have been there at that time of night?”

  Connell frowned as he replayed that night in his head. He hadn’t given her question much thought before.

  He shook his head. “No, but I’m not sure anymore. It happened fast, whatever it was. I just saw a green light. Next thing I knew, I was waking up buck naked on the ground, my face in the dirt. I must have inhaled a sandbox worth of soil before I woke up.”

  Both Logan’s brows rose at the buck naked, but other than that, she said nothing. Her eyes were on him, but she appeared lost in thought as she mulled over what he’d said.

  Connell took advantage of the sprite’s inattention to study her. She was wearing a wine-red tank made out of some silky material that was fitted at her breasts, but floated around her with the breeze. Her dark blue jeans were tight, but they didn’t seem to constrain her movement. She’d still been able to knock him on his ass outside, despite the fact they looked painted on. And she was wearing black riding boots that were going to feature in some secret sexual fantasies for a long time to come.

  He quashed the sudden impulse to run his fingers over the delicate features of her face. Logan looked too damn young for the thoughts he was having.

  She only looks young. They all do. The imp was probably older than he was.

  “And there was nothing on you?” she asked abruptly, snapping him to attention. “No residue of any kind? No marks?”

  “No,” he said.

  The most grievous injury of his life hadn’t left a scar.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes,” he hissed, hopping off the counter.

  She did the same and said, “Come with me.” She led him back into the living room and gestured to a clear space between the couch and the stairs. “I need to examine you.”

  Connell nodded and reached up with both hands to take off his coat. He whipped off his T-shirt in time to take in her wide, startled eyes.

  5

  Logan stared at Connell’s bare chest in amazement. She hoped her mouth was closed. His chest was sculpted like a fashion model in a magazine, but there was no pretty-boy softness to this man.

  Even now, damaged as he was, he was dangerous. A predator. And weren’t injured predators always the most deadly? This man was lethal. Yet, he was standing there half-naked and gorgeous with his shirt in his hand.

  “Why did you take your shirt off?” Her voice was weaker than she’d hoped it would be.

  “You said you wanted to examine me,” he said, gesturing to his chest.

  “I meant a closer examination of your aura…but I may as well look for marks you and your people might have missed,” Logan said with a shrug, trying her hardest to sound nonchalant.

  She stepped up to him and peered closer at his abdominals. “It’s like it’s photoshopped. Is that a ten pack?” she said, poking one of the raised ridges before she could stop herself.

  Connell didn’t answer the imp. Instead, he coughed as a sudden rush of blood left his head and headed south at breakneck speed. It was almost as if she’d shocked him with electricity at her touch, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  And it was only a pinky, for Christ’s sake.

  Logan finished staring at his chest like he was some sort of bug under a microscope and stepped around him to inspect his back. She poked at some old scars and asked him how he got each one. He told her about his time in the Special Forces, as well as the scars earned as an enforcer for the pack.

  Most of the wounds he’d sustained weren’t severe enough for him to scar. A werewolf healed through the change to wolf and back. That meant most marks disappeared on his kind, but he’d had a more adventurous life than most. He was his father’s right hand, an alpha in his own right.

  His father was Canus Primus, or chieftan, of the largest groups of Weres in North America and Europe. Douglas Maitland was responsible for the safety of his people and those of the neighboring families that had settled under the shelter of the Colorado Basin Pack. He depended on Connell and his men to put down any threats posed by rogue wolves and the few Otherkind stupid enough to tangle with them.

  “What about this here?” Logan asked with a feather-light graze at the base of his spine.

  He suppressed the shiver her touch incited. “What? There’s nothing there.”

  Logan touched him again, tracing a small line. “It’s very thin. Only a nick really. It looks older than three months, but your kin
d heals fast. It’s hard to say how old it is. But the fact that it’s small is unexpected. Something like this ought to have disappeared on one of you by now.”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen it. Do you have a mirror?” he asked, trying to twist around enough to see it.

  “There’s one on the bathroom door,” she said, coming around to face him.

  Her eyes lingered on his bare chest for a moment before she flicked them back up to his face. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she might have been smelling him too. It filled him with a rush of pride, and he couldn’t help teasing her. She’d led him a merry chase across half the globe. It was only fair.

  “Should I take off my pants now?” he asked, voice neutral.

  The color that stained her cheeks was a victory, the first he’d had in a long time.

  But Logan only frowned and straightened up. “I think you should go to the bathroom and drop trou. Give yourself a good once-over. There’s a lot of damage to your aura, but no sign of what caused it. Check and see if you have any other unexplained marks. Doesn’t matter how small.”

  Her tone was professional, but the blush on those cheeks wasn’t. Connell gave her a slow grin, feeling more alive than he had since this whole mess started. Actually, since before then.

  “You don’t want to help?” he invited, leaning toward her. “You could take a closer look. Make sure I don’t miss anything. While you’re at it, you can convince yourself that nothing’s been airbrushed or cosmetically enhanced…”

  Logan took in the flirtatious grin on Connell’s face and felt her face get even redder than it already was. None of Michel’s most practiced moves had ever turned her on as much as one smile from this man. He was carnal sin on two legs.

  Except he prefers four.

  Narrowing her eyes, she reminded herself how much she disliked Weres. She schooled her expression. “Something tells me you’re used to handling yourself just fine,” she said with a meaningful glance at his groin region.

  Her voice was sweeter than sugar, but her insinuation didn’t put him off. Instead, his smile deepened, and she was suddenly in danger of not being able to catch her breath.

  “Are you sure?” he teased.

  “Bathroom’s up the stairs, first door on the right.” She pointed, all business.

  Connell backed away with a long, lingering look. He was wearing that panty-melting smile when he turned and headed up the stairs.

  “Don’t forget to check the soles of your feet too,” she called after him, her voice perfectly even. Once he was gone, Logan let out a long, hard breath. Damn, that man was hot.

  She wished she had taken Michel up on one his many offers to take her to bed. Recent sex might have acted as a shield against Connell’s supercharged pheromones.

  Well, you didn’t sleep with him, and there’s no point regretting that now.

  Sighing, she dematerialized, heading outside for a quick trip to the air currents. It was better than a cold shower any day.

  Connell stared at himself in the mirror for a long moment.

  Logan. Her name was Logan. And she was a revelation. She smelled good. Really good. Like a summer storm or a crisp breeze blowing over fresh snow. It was heady stuff. A little weird too. Her scent seemed to change constantly. Yet, it stayed identifiably hers.

  He still missed his wolf, but for a few moments with her, he’d felt whole, complete.

  Connell shook his head and stripped down. What was wrong with him? He was kidding himself—he wasn’t whole. Now that he wasn’t with Logan, he could feel the empty space in his head again. The longer he focused on it, the more broken he felt.

  And Logan could see the damage—what he was missing. That was all wrong. Someone like her should only see him at his best. He sighed. He had better forget about taking the sprite to bed, at least for the moment. Once he got his wolf back, well, that was a different story.

  The overhead lights were bright, which was a good thing. He stood under their glare and checked out his own backside with care. Other than his tattoo and an old mark from a nasty bullet wound, there was nothing. His ankles, feet, and soles were clear too. The only thing he couldn’t account for was the tiny scar Logan had found.

  Craning his neck, he used the mirror and took a long look at the little line on his back. It was at the base of his spine where the sacral chakra was supposed to be. The mark was thin, almost surgical in its precision. And Logan was right. Something that small should have faded by now. But maybe the reason it hadn’t was due to the unpredictable nature of his healing ability since his attack. It might not have anything to do with his lost wolf.

  He pulled on his clothes and went downstairs to search for the sprite, but Logan wasn’t there. Her scent was all over the house, but she was gone.

  For a second, his heart seized. Forcing himself to relax, he stalked around the living room.

  She just stepped out, he told himself. He didn’t think she would leave without telling him. She hadn’t technically agreed to help him, but her actions had implied as much. And she was a direct link to the most powerful forces on Earth. If she couldn’t help him, then he wasn’t going to get better.

  Scanning outside through the living room windows, he resisted the urge to growl. The predator in him, the side that had nothing to do with his wolf, didn’t like that Logan wasn’t there. Connell wanted her with him at all times. He didn’t bother to analyze why the impulse was so strong. It was only natural after he’d chased her across two continents

  Calm down. Logan was coming back. She wouldn’t ditch him now. But first, he would teach her a tiny lesson about ducking out on him without a word. He snorted to himself and went to finish the rest of her cookies in retaliation.

  In the air, Logan whispered to her sisters. Like Serin, she could communicate over long distances when in her non-corporeal form. So could Gia and Diana for that matter, but their communication was limited—Gia’s by geography and Diana’s by the amount of time she spent in her medium. If Di was using fire to travel, she moved too fast to communicate with the rest of them.

  Her sisters weren’t available to talk in real time, so she left an update—one the winds would carry to them. Summarizing what he’d told her, she conveyed her confusion about Connell’s state. But she didn’t mention the detail that had been nagging her since his explanation.

  I’ve tracked you through four different countries. Logan sniffed. He’d just gotten lucky.

  Four times.

  Pushing away that thought, she descended with a thump outside the kitchen door. Connell was impatiently shifting around inside. She walked in and noted with irritation that every last one of her cookies was gone. Giving him a dirty look, she took her usual seat on top of the kitchen counter.

  “Any other scars or marks I should know about?”

  Connell gave her a crooked grin that threatened to melt her into a puddle on the floor. “Aside from my tattoo?”

  “You have a tattoo?” she asked in surprise, flushing hot.

  She had seen every inch of his chest and extremely muscular back. There had been no trace of ink there. Where was it?

  It took special effort for a Were to keep a permanent mark on their skin for more than a few years. Their self-healing ability made any tattooing or branding temporary.

  He leaned closer and put his hands on either side of her, trapping her against the counter. “You’ll see it eventually,” he murmured into her ear before he pushed away.

  Feeling foolishly weak in the knees, she frowned. “Excuse me? Wasn’t I the enemy a few minutes ago?”

  Connell shrugged. “More like twenty. Things change. Try to keep up,” he said in a gruff, sexy tone somewhere between a growl and purr.

  Since when was a growl sexy?

  Logan was irritated with him. She’d never gotten so hot and bothered around a man before. The new feeling of being off-balance was ticking her off.

  She made her tone clipped and frosty. “I think it’s best for all concerned if yo
u keep your pants on around me. I am the Air Elemental, after all. It gets quite chilly around me sometimes. Sensitive bits tend to suffer in the cold.”

  Connell’s grin only grew broader, and he made a show of scenting the air as if he was smelling her. And enjoying it. Ugh. Her threats didn’t seem to faze him at all. She decided it was time to get back to business.

  “I need to examine the area where your wolf was taken. You should give me the exact coordinates. In the meantime, you should return to your people. When I have something, I’ll find you.”

  His flirtatious swagger disappeared in a blink. “No. No way. There’s no chance in the seven hells I’m letting you out of my sight until I get my wolf back. Besides, I should be there to show you what happened. I’m not going to cool my heels with the pack and wait while you investigate,” he growled.

  Logan paused for a moment “I see,” she said softly.

  “What do you see?” he bit back.

  She shifted to the bowl, intending to replace the cookies he’d eaten by baking more, but it was empty. He had eaten all the raw cookie dough. With pursed lips, she slammed the empty bowl down on the counter.

  Connell’s eyes glinted, and she had the sense he was laughing at her. Feeling a little vindictive, she said, “I’m guessing things aren’t too comfortable at home just now. Pack hierarchy is determined by strength. Your position must have been compromised when your wolf went walkabout, and some of your underlings are probably getting ideas.”

  Connell visibly bristled with irritation, but he ignored her comment. “It took me a long time to find you, girl. I’m not letting you go anywhere without me.”

  Logan sighed. He was going to make things as difficult as possible.

  Of course he is, he’s a Were. His tight, sculpted abs had made her forget that fact for a moment.

  “Look, I work alone. Frankly, I can make it there and back a lot faster without you tagging along.”

  He took a step closer, invading her personal space to tower over her. “Not gonna happen,” he snapped, reaching out to grab her arm.