by T. A. Grey
Tempting Whispers
The Kategan Alphas 6
T. A. GREY
WARNING: The content in this book contains explicit sexual content. This book is intended for mature audiences only. It contains sexually explicit scenes that may be offensive. Please keep your file in a safe area on your computer and away from minors.
This book is not transferable. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and scenarios are solely the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, though reference to actual events or locations may be real.
Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.
Cover image by: Dphotographer/www.istockphoto.com
Text design by: T. A. Grey
Tempting Whispers: The Kategan Alphas 6 © July 2012 by T. A. Grey
www.tagrey.com
All Rights Reserved
Also available by T. A. Grey
THE KATEGAN ALPHAS
Breeding Cycle
Dark Awakening
Wicked Surrender
Eternal Temptation
Dark Seduction
Tempting Whispers
THE BELLUM SISTERS TRILOGY
Chains of Frost
Bonds of Fire
Ties That Bind
STANDALONE WORKS
Capturing Jeron
Midnight Sex Shop
Evernight Romance Anthology –
‘The Vampire’s Mate’
One Last Chance (free)
Ecstasy Overload (free)
Dedication
To my fans for wanting more Kategans and for taking a chance on a newbie writer. And to everyone who helps me to finish my books: my editor, my beta readers, and my fiancé, who always listens (or pretends to very well) when I need an ear. Thank you!
Chapter 1
Brayden slid the finished paperwork across the desk. “Is that it?”
The clerk looked over the papers with a nod. “Everything looks good here. You’ll be due back to work in three weeks.” The young vampire picked up a large stamp and pressed the approved seal against the bottom of his verification forms. “So, what do you plan on doing for your vacation? Traveling?”
Brayden took his copy of the paperwork and folded it neatly before putting it in his jacket pocket. “Not quite. I’m doing someone a favor.” He left it at that. With a final nod, he turned and left the HR department.
The Justicars headquarters were swarmed with an assortment of vampires and lykaens all looking very human in their business suits, with their briefcases, and talking on their cellphones. Brayden didn’t like the idea of taking a vacation. He liked to work, enjoyed his job, and was damn good at it. But in the two years since he’d promised Alpha Vane Kategan that he’d find out what happened to his mate’s dead mother, he’d come up with nearly nothing. More and more caseloads of peace treaties, rogue lykaens and vampires, and trials had kept him occupied. Finally, at Sarina’s beseeching phone call last night, he promised to take time off and see the matter through once and for all.
In two years, he’d gone through all the paperwork there was on the matter. Had even spoken twice to the Justicar that led the investigation—for what there was of one. The investigation as it was had merely consisted of taking King Brunes’ witness report of the night, since no others were around, and doing an autopsy that showed, indeed, Queen Clara Brunes had drowned that night almost fifteen years ago while out on their yacht.
Talk about opening a cold case.
The only piece of evidence he had, the only reason he hadn’t canceled his investigation sooner was that something with the case didn’t settle right in his gut. All the paperwork was cut neat; every ‘T’ crossed and ‘i’ dotted. He couldn’t quite lay his finger on what bothered him about it. Perhaps it was the lack of witnesses that night out on their yacht, or maybe the fact that the Justicar on the case accepted King Brunes’ version of events as fact without drilling him further. Either way, Brunes wouldn’t be the first high-profile person to get away with murder, and if he had, then Brayden knew he’d catch him. Everyone paid for their crimes.
“Get your hands off of me!” The feminine scream brought a frown to his face. The Justicars headquarters was a quiet, serious place, not a place to throw a fit. Brayden’s shoulders stiffened and he made his way quickly down the hall toward the sound of rising voices.
“Security, get her out of here!”
Brayden took a left into the lobby and stopped hard. Two security guards had their hands locked around a struggling woman’s arms, trying desperately to drag her out the front door. She looked small, yet when she dug her feet into the tiled floor, it stopped the guards momentum. A quick glance showed that people were already stopping to watch the show.
“I need that order. You have to give it to me!” the woman pleaded in a desperate voice.
The guards dug their feet in and by brute strength started dragging the woman toward the revolving doors. “Come on now, you’re making a scene,” one of the guard’s said between clenched teeth.
The woman kicked one of the guard’s knees and he cursed, his hands flying off her. She turned and started struggling with the other. Brayden shook his head and strode forward.
“Enough! What is this?”
The guard’s eyes widened as he saw him. He straightened quickly, the hands holding the woman forgotten. “Sir, I apologize for this...problem. We’re taking care of it.”
“That not what it looks like.” He leveled his gaze on the back of the woman’s head. “What’s the problem here?”
The woman’s back stiffened and then she turned around slowly, her face raising to meet his. Brayden felt like he got hit in the gut with a sledgehammer. All the air whooshed out of his lungs. The slightly taller than average female form, the dark brown eyes and hair, the slender form. She looked almost exactly the same. Almost being the key word. She’d grown. Her body had filled out in ways that made his blood warm—something he didn’t even want to think about. And her eyes were tense, hard.
“Vanessa Kategan?” He couldn’t keep himself from asking, even though he knew it was her. From her flowery, feminine scent, to the Kategan coloring in her eyes and hair.
Her eyes flared in shock. “Brayden? What are you doing here?”
That sent a brow flying upward. “I work here. What are you doing here?” The last he’d heard, her father had reached an agreement with Vane and had collected her from Vane’s lands.
Her gaze skittered to the clerk behind the lobby desk to glare. “I came for help, but obviously I’m in the wrong place, since no one wants to help me.”
If she didn’t have his attention before, she sure did now. “What are you talking about? Help with what?”
Her lips flattened and she sent a disgusted glare to the guards that had been trying to escort her out. She turned back to him, gave him an assessing glance then shook her head. “Nothing, apparently. No one can help me. Goodbye, Brayden.” Turning away, she pushed between the two guards mumbling “assholes” under her breath, then went through the revolving doors.
Brayden was after her before he thought twice about it.
Chapter 2
The sky overhead darkened with oncoming storm clouds of black and gray. If it started to pour right now, it’d fit her mood.
“Fucking assholes,” Vanessa said, just because it made h
er feel a little better.
Tucking her chin down, she made her way down the path with one haunting thought in her mind—what was she supposed to do now?
“Vanessa, wait!” The deeply familiar voice brought her feet to a stop. She turned and knew the pounding of her heart had nothing to do with how angry she was and everything to do with the strong, gorgeous man striding toward her.
“Brayden.” He looked even better than she remembered which was some feat, considering she’d pictured him often and in various degrees of undress as time had passed. Though tall, he didn’t appear as tall as she remembered. She had grown a few inches since she last saw him, topping out at a whopping 5’6”. But he had to be a few over six, which meant she had to pull her head back to look up at him. His gray eyes looked the same—piercing, beautiful, and bright. They shone out from his tanned skin in a way that caught a woman’s eye. She swallowed over the lump in her throat. Just looking at him made her skin feel stretched, too tight, her every cell sensitized and on alert. He had the look of a man who could take a woman to bed and show her the kind of pleasure she only dreamed of.
And the sport’s jacket he wore over his suit shirt and black slacks did nothing to diminish the strength of his body. He was built like a warrior, sturdy and strong. He kept his light-brown curling hair clipped close to his head with just enough length to make her wonder what it’d feel like to thread her fingers between. He looked like a knight in an accountant’s clothing.
“What are you doing here?” He sounded angry. Now that wasn’t a surprise. It seemed everything she ever did pissed him off.
She let out a deep breath. “Unless you can help me, that’s none of your business. Do you think you can help me?” Her stomach muscles tightened as she held her breath. God, she needed help. She’d thought that by coming here, they’d give her all the answers she would need. She’d sign a few papers and be done with it and then she could move on with her life. If only it was that simple.
“It depends.” He looked around at the crowd of faces walking past them. “Where’s your family?”
She smiled and knew it was sad. “Not here. This doesn’t involve them.” At least, not in the way he probably thought.
His eyes stopped sweeping the faces around them and locked on hers. It felt like he could discover every hidden thought she had with those striking eyes. For a moment, panic flared that he could, but she relaxed her mind. He was just a vampire, and being one didn’t give him a special psychic power. Just a thing for blood and living long.
“All right, then, tell me what’s wrong? And why you’re in Chicago.”
The words almost tumbled from her lips. She wanted to. Maybe it was because he’d saved her in the past. Just being near him made her feel safe, like everything was going to be fine. It was a lie. She had to remember that. If she told him and he didn’t help her, he could ruin the little bit of freedom she’d fought so hard to achieve.
She smiled at him. “Sorry, I can’t do that.” Her phone beeped at her and she pulled it out of her back pocket. “Time for me to get to work.” She gave him one last look. Not for the first time, her mind flashed to what it would have been like to be mated to him instead. She doubted, even with his ostensibility, that she’d be here right now getting thrown out of Justicar’s headquarters. He wasn’t like Joseph, not at all. “Take care, Brayden.”
She turned to leave, but his hand caught her arm. His hand touched the bare skin of her arm making her breath catch as warmth rushed through her body. “What do you mean you have a job here? You live here now? Where do you work?”
She wanted to stand there with his hand touching her gently, wanted to wrap her arms around him and just hug another good person, but she couldn’t. So, with a sad smile, she tugged her arm out of his grasp. “I can’t tell you that. For all your good intentions, you might just do more harm than good. ’Bye now.”
She turned and forced one foot in front of the other. She wondered if he’d call out to her, if he’d stop her. Worse, her gut was clenched with excitement that he just might do it. But he didn’t and she tried to tell herself it didn’t bother her. She was doing the right thing, she knew it.
* * *
Brayden let her go—for now. If she wasn’t going to give him answers, then he’d find them. She had no idea just how good at that he was. Or she’d forgotten at how skilled he was at tracking.
Inside, he cornered the secretary behind the lobby’s main desk. He checked her nametag for her name. “Sara, what did that woman want?”
Sara’s eyes sparked with pleasure and Brayden wanted to shake her. Certain women seemed to always find him attractive and it either helped or hindered whatever he was doing. He hoped for the prior in this case.
“The woman that made the scene?”
He glared at her in answer.
She fidgeted with her collar. “Yes, her, of course. She came asking questions about an annulment, divorce, things like that. I told her both parties must be present for any formal arrangements, and when she threw a fit, I called security.” She tossed a bright-white smile up at him and he left without a word.
Settling into his SUV, he turned the car on then sat back, his thumb idly scratching his chin. He caught stubble there and made note to shave later. The questions wouldn’t leave his mind. What was Vanessa Kategan doing in Chicago and whom was she trying to get a divorce from? His mind scoured the events that took place two years before. The name Joseph popped up. She’d run away from her father because he planned to have her mated to Joseph, an older Alpha from a different pack. In return, they’d combine packs to have more land. By law and duty, she had to obey her father. His gut twisted tight with nerves. Law was law and needed to be obeyed. He’d chosen his job based off his own personal beliefs. He’d even told her then that she should be a good daughter and do what was needed of her. Now he clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut to the pounding sting banging at his temples. Had he made a mistake?
Grabbing his cellphone out of the center console, he flipped through the contacts to Vane Kategan. His finger hovered over the green ‘call’ button. With a curse, he shut his phone and tossed it into the passenger seat.
He put the car into drive and took off. He’d find her and figure out what she was up to. Even if that meant sending her back to where she came.
Chapter 3
Vanessa couldn’t stop looking over her shoulder. She wasn’t sure what she’d find. A tall, gorgeous man with a full head of thick, slightly curling hair, and lips that taunted her to taste them, or a shorter, stauncher man with meaty fists and a steadfast frown. A chill swept down her spine at the thought of Joseph. She petted the pocketknife in her jean pocket to calm herself.
The sun began its descent from the sky. A crackle of thunder clapped overhead and she jumped, her legs moving faster. The streetlights kicked on, casting the streets in a dim yellow glow. She passed a small 7-Eleven crammed between two clothing stores in large brownstone-type buildings and turned left at the next street. She spotted the glowing neon sign for the trendy little coffee shop she’d taken a job at, and sighed.
She dashed across the street and rushed inside, the feeling of eyes on her only now lessening from the warmth of the room and laughter of the small crowd already gathered. A Cup of Joe was a trendy coffee shop with a small stage set up for poetry readings, small local bands, and karaoke nights. The furniture consisted of old, vintage-style chairs and worn-out leather sofas sandwiched together in a tight area. The aroma of vanilla, cocoa, and chocolate made her sigh as she made her way into the employee’s lounge in the back. She had a small locker here and inside sat her only belongings—a satchel of things she’d managed to grab in a hurry.
“Hey, Vanessa,” a male voice called out.
She pulled on the dark brown apron and pulled her hair back into a tie before turning around. Her boss, a youngish human in his thirties checked his watch then smiled. “You’re on time. Good, I like punctuality. Want to try your hand at taking orders
tonight?”
“Yeah, sure.”
He handed her a small pad and pen. “Have at it and don’t forget to clock in.”
Time passed in a whirl of dirty coffee cups, fresh brew, and bawdy laughter from the guests. The muscles in her back felt tense and hard and she desperately wanted a massage or a steaming hot bath. But she dredged on carrying trays laden with iced and hot coffee drinks until the clock struck midnight. As the last guest left, she sighed and got to work wiping down the tables and sweeping up the joint. Her boss, Rob, and the other three employees joked and laughed at the bar as they wiped it down and ran the dishwasher. She wished she didn’t feel alone, left out, but she did. Maybe it was for the best that she didn’t try to make friends. Yeah, making friends could make possible targets. See? Being alone wasn’t so bad after all.
In the back room, she put away the broom, dirty towels, and hung up her apron. She counted her tips and grimaced. Twenty-nine bucks and fifty cents.
“Hell,” she muttered.
She stuffed her measly change into her bag, waved goodbye to everyone, and stepped outside. The strong male presence hit her fast and hard. With frantic fingers, she reached into her pocket and clenched the pocketknife in her hand, which she’d bought after escaping. With the press of a button, the blade stuck out. She kept it flat and pressed against her thigh as her eyes darted left and right, narrowed on the passing cars, searching every face, every window in the building across from her until her eyes hurt from squinting into the night. Someone watched her. Someone was here.
The door opened behind her and she jumped. Rob frowned at her. He was only slightly taller than her, with a little extra weight around the middle of his tucked in striped shirt. “Hey, you okay? Need a ride home?”