Israel

by Avery Gale

  “But… the clothes here…” Lowering her voice until it was little more than a notch below a whisper, she explained, “Everything is going to be expensive in a store like this.” She picked up a delicate camisole, folded neatly on a nearby table and gasped. “I’d be scared to wear anything costing more than my monthly rent.”

  “Darlin’, I’ve seen your apartment. Whatever you were paying was too much.” Bristol probably should have been insulted by the judgment, but he was right. The little studio was a dump… but until today, it had always felt relatively safe. “I’m not as gifted an empath as my brother, but I’ve spent my entire professional career reading people, so I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” Pulling her into a quick hug, he kissed the top of her head and chuckled. “We’re going to have a long chat about your business manager situation. I understand saving money—but damn, girl—that apartment was a fucking slum box.” His disarming smile and sense of humor put her at ease.

  “Can we compromise? Maybe get some things I won’t be terrified to wear?” Shaking his head, he led her back to the dressing rooms.

  “Here’s my offer for a compromise. We buy what Israel requested—after all, these ladies work on commission. You don’t want to be responsible for their heartbreak, do you?”

  “I’m not sure how this is a compromise.” Bristol understood she was being manipulated but knew it was useless to resist.

  “While you’re trying on everything in the dressing room, I’ll text my staff to get the names of a few more moderately priced boutiques.” She firmed her mouth into a hard line—this didn’t seem like much of a compromise, but his take-or-leave-it shrug told her she’d be wasting her time to plead her case. “Perfect. I love a fast learner. Now, go on. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can hit the steak house. I’m starving.”

  Five hours later, Bristol shuffled like a zombie, following Bronx into his favorite steakhouse. She had no idea how or why women enjoyed spending their entire day shopping. Her feet ached from trying on shoes until they all started to blur together. The whole process was exhausting, and she worried after the first hour, points were being shaved off her IQ. Who cared if her purse matched her shoes or her shoes were within the same color family as her outfit? Lord love a leprechaun.

  At one point, she’d asked one of the sales associates if there was an app for her phone with some sort of spreadsheet to help her remember which accessories went with each outfit. She could finance a small country with the amount of money they spent today.

  The bargain shops his staff suggested were marginally better, but the clothing was still far more expensive than anything she’d ever owned. When she’d argued she didn’t have a large enough closet for everything they were buying, Bronx has laughed.

  “Everything is being delivered to Israel’s place. If you decide he’s an ogre, I’m sure Austin and Asia will be happy to give you a suite of your own—but I wouldn’t count on Israel going for it.”

  Making their way to the bar, Bristol was surprised to see Israel and Catalina seated across from each other in a high-backed leather booth. Both had their backs against the wall, so their gazes could easily sweep the large room. Israel got to his feet, holding out his hand to her. As soon as she placed her palm against his, Israel frowned at his brother.

  “She’s exhausted. Did you feed her anything or just run her ragged shopping?” Bristol felt the arc of electricity pass between them, Israel’s much stronger than hers.

  “It’s not Bronx’s fault. He was very patient, and I wasted a lot of his time arguing about how much money we were spending.” Israel continued to glare at his brother as he helped her slide into the booth, placing himself between her and the room. A vision of her destroyed apartment flashed through her mind, the memory sending a shudder of foreboding up her spine. “Thank you for dealing with Chief Andrews. I need to contact my insurance agent, but I doubt the damage will be more than my deductible.”

  “That was on my list, sister. All done. They’ll be sending you a check. The paperwork is in Israel’s office.” Bristol felt her eyes widen at Catalina’s comments. How had she had time to take care of Bristol’s business when she was busy getting her jewelry line and shop up and running? There was no way Bristol would ever be able to afford one of Catalina’s original designs, but the pieces she’d seen online were breathtaking.

  “Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to make the calls when I know you’re busy with your own business.” She was shocked to her core to learn she’d be getting any money.

  “No problem. When I learned who your agent was, I volunteered. He was a classmate of London’s and had a huge crush on her. He was a jock, and she was a nerd. I never did understand the attraction, but it turns out, he’s still a big fan of hers, so I played the family card for all it was worth. His new wife moved to Austin a month ago, and it seems the waiting list for appointments with Dr. B is long… very long, according to Ted. You can probably expect him to call in the favor sooner rather than later.”

  Bristol shrugged, trying to look unaffected by the Adlers’ show of solidarity. Having them helping her felt wonderful and terrifying at the same time. Gulping several large swallows of the frozen margarita sitting in front of her, Bristol felt the rush of the alcohol before realization hit her.

  “Fudge, I hope this is mine.”

  Chapter Ten

  Israel was grateful Bristol had the opportunity to spend several hours with Bronx. His brother was smart, intuitive, and a natural salesman. He’d talked to Bronx several times during the day and knew how reluctant she’d been to spend money. While he appreciated her conservative nature, he also wanted her to have the things she needed and deserved. Israel was still furious, someone had destroyed everything in her apartment.

  There wasn’t any doubt the intruder had been a shifter, but he hadn’t wanted to confirm the questions he’d heard streaming through Bristol’s mind. Equally clear was the shifter was someone they knew because he or she had tried to cover their scent by dumping an entire bottle of nasty smelling perfume everywhere. Fortunately, the perpetrator had used a brand containing a large percentage of alcohol. Once the alcohol fully evaporated, underlying scents were easily detected.

  Although the scent was familiar, he couldn’t confirm the other shifter’s identity. The first person he intended to check was Clovia Williams. Parker wouldn’t be able to charge her based on Israel’s identification, but she would face censure within the shifter community.

  Shifters as a group were supportive of each other out of necessity. Fighting among themselves led to their discovery by nonmagicals, which inevitably ended in public exposure. Historically, being revealed publicly as a shifter meant you were either forced to flee, leaving everything behind, or you risked being lynched by an angry mob of torch-bearing villagers, intent on ridding their communities of anything they didn’t understand.

  Recently, popular movies brought new levels of understanding of members of their communities, but most government officials were a different story. The local police chief was more open-minded than most and discrete enough to wait until they were alone to ask the important questions.

  A sharp kick to his shin brought Israel back to the moment. He glared at his sister, but Cat wasn’t the least bit intimidated. She returned his glower with one of her own before flashing him an unrepentant grin.

  “You are not the boss of me, so you can stuff the dirty looks, little brother.”

  What a load of bullshit. She’s only a year older and still lording it over me.

  “You’re a menace, Catalina. Cooper is doing a lousy job of keeping you in line. Where is he anyway?” The shift in Cat’s expression was so subtle, only someone who knew her well would have noticed the small tells—the inconspicuous tensing of her jaw and the flash of concern reflected in her wary eyes. Israel felt his brows pull together when he noticed Cat rubbing the fabric napkin between her fingers—a nervous gesture she’d had since she was a kid. He knew she’d worked hard to
break the habit—he also knew it only resurfaced when Catalina was skating on the edge of an emotional implosion.

  “He was called away on business.” I can’t tell you any more about this. Leave it alone, Is. Her use of the nickname only his siblings used had the desired effect. He backed off—for now. Bronx broke the tension by wrapping an arm around Cat, giving her an affectionate squeeze.

  “I’m glad Cooper’s out of town. Hell, I already know there isn’t a chance in the world the beautiful woman I spent the day with is going to be interested in barhopping.” Looking at Catalina, he flashed a smile Israel knew made every woman on the planet melt. “You’re pinch-hitting tonight, Cat.”

  Israel knew the two of them wouldn’t be barhopping. Bronx was experiencing a security issue at one of his dealerships and was hoping Catalina could help him catch the culprit. So far, the intruder hadn’t taken anything and was never seen clearly enough on any of the security cameras to make an identification. Dodging the large number of cameras Israel, which installed at all the dealerships, made them believe they were dealing with a magical. No one knew who was managing to breach every security measure they put in place or what they wanted since nothing was ever disturbed or missing.

  “Well, would you look at that? Someone drank my margarita.” Looking up at him, Bristol’s blue eyes appeared slightly unfocused as they narrowed. “Was it you? That seems a bit presump… umm precou… shit… pushy. Yeah, that’s it. Pushy. I’m still thirsty. Can I have another since I didn’t get to drink this one?”

  Damn, she’d only had one drink, and his mate was trashed. If he didn’t get some food in her, she was going to be down for the count. He looked up, grateful to see their waiter approaching with their dinner.

  “You can have another drink after you finish your dinner.” The imp had the audacity to look to Bronx for help.

  “Do something. I’m thirsty, and your brother is being mean. Hell, I didn’t like the parents I had… why would I want to give fate another shot at blowing up my heart.”

  Shit. Even drunk, she’d managed to paint him into a corner. If he hadn’t been worried about her getting sick, he might have relented. Luckily, she saved him the trouble. Israel laughed when her focus switched to the steak in front of her.

  “Holy cow.” She burst out laughing at the unintentional pun. “Rare. Perfect. Hey, wait. Somebody put a potato on the plate with my steak. Who would do such a thing? At least they didn’t try to give me a salad. That would have been insulting.” Shoveling in several small pieces of steak into her mouth, Israel heard her moan. Damned if the sound didn’t go straight to his cock. “I love steak. I don’t get to eat it often, my budget doesn’t have room for steaks, and before this past week, my schedule was a train wreck, too.” Between bites, she kept chattering, making the rest of them laugh.

  She’s said more now than she did the entire time we were shopping. Margaritas are going to be the magic elixir to get her to open up, brother.

  Even though the observation had been telepathic, Israel was still able to hear the affection and amusement in Bronx’s voice. When the waiter brought Bristol another margarita, her smile lit up the room.

  “Thank you, I appreciate it. I’m always in awe of food service workers. You all are amazing.”

  The young man paused for a heartbeat, and Israel suspected the steakhouse patrons were usually too engrossed in their business or romantic discussions to thank those serving them. Bristol’s simple act of kindness told him more about her character than anything in his staff’s report. Hell, maybe he needed to start taking people out for a drink before interviewing them. The young man smiled, nodding his thanks before disappearing into the kitchen once again.

  “I worked at a bar the summer before I started medical school—hardest job in the world. Drug names are scientific, they make sense. Drinks? Not so much. Seriously, naming a drink Sex on the Beach doesn’t tell you it has vodka, peach schnapps, grapefruit, and cranberry juice in it.” When none of them responded, she simply shrugged. “You have to learn the ingredients and amounts. Hell, the only reason it isn’t worse than cooking is even I couldn’t find a way to set something on fire. No risk of burning the place down should have made it the perfect summer job. I guess it wasn’t that bad—aside from having to pay one of my classmates to create a fake ID. I didn’t drink, I was there for work. Why did I need to be twenty-one? Another ridiculous rule. Have you noticed there are a lot of insane rules these days? It’s like that old song by the Five Man Electrical Band… Sign, sign, everywhere a sign. Blockin’ out the scenery, breakin’ my mind. Do this, don’t do that. Can’t you read the sign?”

  Taking another large gulp of her drink, Bristol shrugged when no one else at the table spoke, just stared at her, their mouths hanging open in surprise.

  They didn’t even try to sing along, what’s up with that? Oh, well, not my problem. Letting the alcohol take the edge off this dumpster-fire of a day feels better than I imagined it could. Damn, being able to speak my mind is damned liberating. Sort of like those women back in the sixties burning their bras… not like anyone would notice if I burned mine, but… Wait, where was I going with this?

  Her mind had been spinning, and the only thing he’d been able to piece together had him battling laughter. It was time to reel her back in a bit.

  “I noticed you didn’t have much in your kitchen, Beautiful.” What little she had was now in the apartment complex dumpster. He hadn’t felt bad about throwing away the broken dishes since nothing seemed to be of any particular significance.

  “I never really learned to cook. During college, I wasn’t allowed to cook in my dorm room.” Taking a big drink of her margarita, she looked at the baked potato and sighed. “I supposed I could eat another one.” When Cat snickered, obviously understanding Bristol’s reluctance. “I had a small microwave in my room. I wasn’t allowed to make popcorn after the fire. Turns out, you actually need to pay attention to microwave popcorn, or the bag catches on fire, and the stench is nasty. Who knew? I ate so many baked potatoes, I swore I’d never be able to choke down another one.”

  “Oh, we’re going to get along great, sister. Cooking is not in my skill set, either. Hell, now that I think about it, none of the women in my circle of friends cook. I have to give my mom credit, she had a lot more luck teaching the boys to cook than she did with her daughters.” Israel heard the longing in Cat’s voice. They all missed their parents as much today as they did when they first lost them. The pain wasn’t as acute now, but the dull ache was always lurking just below the surface.

  Israel had recently learned a couple of members of a neighboring pack were overheard discussing how they’d taken out the head of Adler Oil and his witchy wife once and would do it again—for a price. So far, the information was little more than a rumor. Two drunks bragging in a bar wasn’t credible evidence, but it wasn’t something he planned to ignore.

  Bristol turned to him so quickly, her blonde hair fanned out around her, and in his mind’s eye, he saw it spread over his bare thighs as she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. Hell, the rush made him dizzy.

  “It’s cool that your mom taught you to cook.” A look of panic flashed in her eyes before she started frantically digging in her small purse. “Shit. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t be drinking? I better call someone about… something. What time is it? I know I have to be late for something. I’m always late.”

  She was spiraling, winding herself up so tight, energy was pouring from her. Putting his hand on her forearm to still her frantic digging, Israel was shocked by the fear he felt from her. She was terrified she was letting her patients down and even more worried about being impaired.

  “Bristol, listen to me. We talked about this earlier. Your shift is being covered. Parker called the hospital, and they shared our concerns about your safety, especially after we discovered one of the alarms at your clinic was triggered last night.” She gasped, spinning to look at Bronx, her eyes narrowing.

  �
��No, sweetness, I didn’t know anything about it until just now. I know my brother—I’ll bet you dollars to doughnuts, he wanted to make sure you ate something before he shared information, he knew would upset you.” She didn’t respond for so long, Israel was beginning to worry she was slipping through his fingers.

  “This has been the strangest day.” Bristol leaned back and sighed. Her expression was more resigned than worried, and Israel could feel the sadness he’d known was coming. She drained the last of her margarita and shook her head. “I should have gotten the security system with cameras, but I didn’t have the money at the time. We haven’t had any trouble, so I’ve never upgraded it. I’ll call someone tomorrow.”

  Catalina and Bronx both burst out laughing, no doubt their amusement being fed by the stricken look on Israel’s face.

  “Damn, I’d have paid good money to have that on video. You’ve just achieved hero status with the Adler sisters, Bristol. Now, in the interest of saving your ass some serious time over Israel’s lap, you might want to speak with him about your security needs rather than calling another firm.”

  Catalina’s coaching gave Israel time to pull back his frustration. The truth was, they’d only met a couple of days earlier, so it wasn’t a huge surprise she’d forgotten what he did for a living. Not to mention she’d had a damned stressful day, topped off with an impressive amount of alcohol.

  “I didn’t forget you have a security company, but it would be presumptuous—see, I do know how to say that word—for me to assume you want to provide services.” She must have sensed the sudden chill in the air because her expression became wary as she cut herself off. “Not those services, good heavens, I’d never…” Her face went scarlet, and her eyes dilated as the magnitude of her error worked its way to the surface of her alcohol-infused mind. Bristol’s thoughts were spinning so frantically, she hadn’t noticed the couple who’d walked in and were standing beside their table.