“And I thought I’d had too much to drink,” the one-body answered slowly. “Only...I hadn’t been drinking.”
Robert let his words float in the air for a few minutes before picking up the sheaf of photos I’d dropped onto the floorboards after staring at them for way too long. He flipped through the pages meditatively until Hunter’s lupine form was visible on top of the stack.
And although I hated to admit it, even in the midst of a standoff with the FBI, Hunter’s image inserted a bittersweet lump into my throat. I missed the big lug even though I had a feeling his sheer stubborn adorableness was going to force me to admit to feelings that were better off kept under wraps.
Sooner rather than later, too. Darn it—I hated to be the one giving in...especially when I was in the wrong.
I cleared my throat in an effort to keep my mind on the present moment. Then I cut right to the heart of the matter. “How many people have you shown the video to?”
Robert’s gaze locked with mine, and his suddenly clenched jaw made it obvious my poker face needed some work.
No, I didn’t want to hurt this one-body. He seemed like a nice guy—thumb stabbing aside. But if Robert was the only stranger who had an inkling werewolves existed, then Hunter needed to pay the agent a visit and scare him into line at the very least. And, perhaps we’d be forced to go beyond that....
“My partner saw it,” Robert answered carefully, his eyes still boring into mine. “And, no, I’m not going to give you her name. We didn’t tell our boss because.... Well, just because.”
I sucked in a deep breath and tried to stay calm. A one-body female was bound to set off all of Hunter’s protective instincts. No way would my mate be willing to intimidate Robert’s partner—assuming we could hunt her down in the first place without a name or city to go on.
Unfortunately, my own wolf wasn’t nearly imposing enough to do the job for us. But if I didn’t think of some way to put out this potential fire, the Tribunal would put it out for me. And they’d probably squelch me, Robert, and his unnamed partner quite permanently in the process.
“And the blood work you ran on me?” I prodded. The FBI agent had thus far seemed willing to share information, so I figured I might as well keep questioning him in an effort to determine the full extent of the damage.
Sending a quick alert to my wolf, I leaned in closer while waiting for Robert’s reply. My animal half would do a better job than I would determining if the one-body chose to spin a falsehood now.
But Robert didn’t even attempt to evade my implication. “The blood work came back looking really sketchy,” he answered.
Truth, my wolf whispered.
The agent hadn’t quite met my eyes as he spoke this time, making me doubt my inner animal’s conclusion. A sniff of the air, though, suggested a different reason for Robert’s discomfort—he was ashamed of himself for taking a blood sample without my permission.
“The lab tech knows about us too?” I asked at last, coming as close to an admission as I dared.
“The lab tech thinks the specimen was contaminated,” my companion answered quietly. This time he did meet my gaze, and I almost thought from the tone of his voice that he was trying to reassure me.
Maybe he was. After all, if I’d been raised to think that two-leggers never had worse weapons at their disposal than the occasional gun or knife, I’d try to keep the scary werewolf calm too. So I shot the agent a watery smile even as I muttered a couple of creative curse words under my breath.
“My turn?” my companion asked after a moment.
For all of his bulk, Robert was remarkably good at looking unintimidating. In fact, I only realized as he slipped the photos back between his seat and the center console that the smooth operator was now in possession of my fingerprints.
There goes that chance of staying incognito using fake ID....
Still, I might as well play nice as long as I could. So I shrugged. “Go for it. I can’t promise how much I’ll be able to answer. But you can ask.”
And ask he did. To my relief, Robert’s initial questions were laughable. Was I really a werewolf—yes. Did we live in packs—sometimes.
How many of us were there? That one I didn’t respond to head on. Instead, I told him, “You really don’t want to dig too deep. The more you know...the more dangerous your situation becomes.”
Only when my eyes met the agent’s did I realize that I’d made a misstep at last. I hadn’t intended the words to be ominous—I was just speaking the honest truth and trying to keep the guy from getting his throat ripped out by a stronger shifter than myself.
But if my companion had been a wolf, his hackles would have risen. As it was, the one-body’s nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you’re in a position to make threats.”
Looking out across the empty lot of the abandoned strip mall where Robert had parked, though, I realized I actually was in a position to make threats. The agent had likely chosen this location in hopes of keeping casualties to a minimum if I went wolf on his ass. However, if Stormwinder had been in my shoes, the uber-alpha would have taken advantage of the lack of bystanders to tear out the human’s tender, unprotected throat.
After solving the problem in the simplest manner possible, the uber-alpha would have followed up by using every bit of stockpiled goodwill at his disposal to track down and snuff out Robert’s partner. Gore cleanup in such a remote location would be a breeze.
But I wasn’t Stormwinder. Instead, I was a half werewolf who was doing her level best to keep a clawless mother safe. I was clinging to humanity with blunt two-legger fingernails and sharp lupine fangs and I didn’t want to dirty either appendage with cold-blooded murder.
On the flip side, letting the footage in Robert’s possession hit the news would result in the loss of dozens—okay, let’s be honest, probably thousands—of shifter lives. Yet, I still wasn’t willing to kill one good man to protect the masses.
So I sighed and let my body sag until my forehead rested on the dashboard. “I know,” I answered. “But I am in the position to beg. Please, for my sake, for your sake, for your partner’s sake—don’t make any rash decisions until I’ve had a little more time to change your mind.”
Chapter 21
TO MY SURPRISE, ROBERT agreed not to spill the beans immediately. In exchange for his silence, though, I had to provide permission for the FBI agent to invade my mother’s home...which was already chock full of four young shifters plus (I hoped) a pregnant schoolteacher and a rogue bloodling.
Turned out I was wrong. Yes, all of the previously listed people were still in residence. But when Robert turned his vehicle into Celia’s driveway, a muscular male form was pushing a lawnmower across an expanse of already manicured grass. The newcomer’s back was turned and he was halfway shielded by shrubbery, but I knew immediately who it was.
The lookout, my wolf murmured. For once, though, it was my human brain who was less interested in why the shifter in question was inventing excuses to hang out in the front yard and more interested in who had turned up on Celia’s doorstep.
Before the SUV had even come to a complete halt, I’d opened the door and half leapt, half fallen out of the vehicle. I wasn’t usually so graceless, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Hunter’s sweat-dappled hide long enough to check my footing. And once his lips curved upward into a slow smile of greeting, I wasn’t even sure my legs would hold me upright there on level ground.
My mate was so much more beautiful than I remembered. In four short days, the uber-alpha had transformed from being a part of my everyday landscape into a coveted and cherished companion that I couldn’t believe I’d ever taken for granted. His broad frame appeared taller, his amber eyes shone more intensely, and his sassafras aroma smelled so enticing it pulled me across the greenery and straight into his arms.
We clicked together like magnets. Hunter’s lips smashed down over mine, the stubble of his incipient beard prickling against my softer skin. The subtle pain sh
ould have broken the spell, but instead it sucked me in deeper.
I moaned as I reached up to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to my needy body. His lips forced mine apart even as I pressed my belly up against his long, hard length.
Hunter growled his appreciation of my proximity, and I suspect we might have gotten down and dirty right there on the lawn if Robert hadn’t cleared his throat behind us.
That, unfortunately, broke the spell quite effectively. My mate’s nostrils immediately flared wide and he twisted me around so I was still cradled in his arms but now had my back up against his chest.
The pose was protection. It was warning. It was possession.
So this is what love feels like.
The mossy spring-water flavor on my tongue was the first hint that Hunter had invaded my mind as well as my body. I expected him to make note of my use of the L word, but instead, his hands clenched down on my shoulders just shy of leaving bruises. Danger, he warned.
Rather than pushing more words down the mate bond, he instead elaborated with flickers of sensations and images. Hunter’s acute bloodling nose wasn’t thrilled by the variety of emotions wafting off the FBI agent, and my terrified mental plea an hour earlier hadn’t gone unnoticed either. Together, those feelings plus tidbits of information I’d doled out previously coalesced into an intense distrust for the one-body who stood before us.
From the way my mate vibrated with tension, I had a feeling Hunter would snap at any moment. And even though I was only grudgingly willing to let Robert into our lives, I was even less willing to have him eaten alive by a big, bad werewolf who would regret it in the morning. So I forced myself to dip out of the latter’s tantalizing embrace in order to look upon both males’ faces without turning my head.
Time to stop this altercation before it really began.
“Robert, this is Hunter, my...my mate,” I said, my voice catching only slightly on the shifter-centric word.
Then I took a deep breath and grabbed hold of the uber-alpha’s arm just in case he decided to do something rash. “And, Hunter,” I finished, “this is the FBI agent who caught you shifting on video last week.”
“OKAY.”
Okay? That was my mate’s response to the thorny situation that I had yet to find a solution to?
One minute ago, Hunter had seemed ready to go full-on wolf and give Robert the type of greeting the agent had expected from me out on the highway. Then, a few seconds later, my mate had regained the calm, gentle demeanor I’d first fallen in love with.
In lust with, I meant. Darned slip of the tongue.
On the other hand, the FBI agent was less complacent. As I slid a glance in his direction, I noticed for the first time that Robert’s hand hovered beneath his armpit and likely had during the entire preceding exchange. Either the one-body really needed to scratch an improper itch, or he’d been preparing to pull out some entirely human firepower if Hunter made the slightest move in the wrong direction.
I’d like to think that same realization was the reason why my mate had accepted my bomb-dropping so cavalierly. But Hunter didn’t back down from wolves with weapons and I doubted he’d cede the field to armed humans either.
No, my favorite uber-alpha was pretty sure he was invincible...and thus far his assumptions had proven entirely correct. So I raised both eyebrows at my mate questioningly.
“Okay,” Hunter elaborated. “If you trust him, then I trust him. But we have a bit of a situation here that needs your attention.”
Ah, so that was the deal. Bloodlings tended to be a bit single-minded once they locked their focus onto a particular object or task. So I fully expected Hunter to draw me toward whatever “situation” he’d been guarding with Celia’s lawnmower when the Escalade first pulled up.
Instead, my mate simply gazed at me, head cocked to one side. He didn’t tap his foot impatiently the way I might have done, yet it was clear the bloodling was waiting for something.
In the end, Robert was the one to break the silence. The human almost seemed amused as he glanced back and forth between me and my mate, but he met my gaze levelly when he finally spoke. “He’s asking if you trust me,” the agent clued me in.
Good question. On the one hand, I really shouldn’t have trusted Robert. The agent possessed information that vastly exceeded his level of clearance. And for my own part, I had a less than stellar track record choosing who did and didn’t deserve my confidences.
Piled on top of my personal insecurities were the events of the recent past. Robert had stalked me, had scared me to death with his reckless driving, and had taken a blood sample without my knowledge.
And yet, if I was being honest, I’d already made the decision Hunter was asking me to verbalize when I chose to bring Robert back to my lair in hopes of changing the agent’s mind in the first place. I couldn’t precisely explain why, but my wolf was calmer than I would have expected around the one-body. In fact, ever since Robert had laid all of his cards on the table, my inner beast had offered him the same simple acceptance that she granted members of our own pack.
On my right and left, both males waited patiently for me to hand down a decision. Hunter had drifted back into my personal space while I was lost in thought, his body angled ever so subtly away from the human as if in preparation for springing to my defense. For his part, Robert had dropped his aggressive stance and now stood with both arms slightly out to his sides, palms facing forward in the universal gesture of goodwill.
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. I wasn’t quite sure what the human planned to do with the crash course in werewolfism he was about to pick up, but my gut said he wouldn’t misuse the knowledge. So I gently pulled my mate out of his protective posture while I answered. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, I think I do.”
“GOOD,” HUNTER RESPONDED. And then he grabbed my hand without warning, yanking me toward the house at a near trot.
I expected to be pulled up the steps toward the front door. But, instead, we slipped between a row of bushes and a wooden fence line to enter a backyard that I’d barely had a moment to explore during the four days I’d been in residence.
Now that I was finally able to set foot in Celia’s more private sanctuary without rain dripping into my eyes, I saw that her gardening hadn’t been relegated to the front of the house. In fact, the backyard’s infrastructure suggested that my mother spent quite a bit of time amid the greenery and tranquility of this more hidden arena. There was a burbling fountain, an enticing bench, a sculpted Japanese maple...and two terrified amber eyes peering out through the encircling shrubbery.
Before I could remark upon Lupe’s presence, though, Robert spoke up from behind us. I hadn’t actually realized the one-body was following in our footsteps, but now he wrenched my attention around to the house quite effectively. “Someone doesn’t like you much,” the agent observed.
I followed his gaze to take in stark red lines slashing across the perfect paint job on the residence’s exterior. The vandalism was an obvious invasion of Celia’s perfectly ordered home, but it wasn’t until I sidled backwards a step that I was able to make out the words.
Then a shiver raced down my spine, the rogue bloodling momentarily forgotten. “You shall not suffer a witch to live,” I read aloud. No wonder Hunter had been guarding the perimeter.
Up until this point, I’d been lulled into complacency by the one-body cops’ analysis of Celia’s aggressor. The officers had suggested that anyone leaving road-killed raccoons on someone’s doorstep and calling in bomb threats without any explosives present was more bluster than action. So I’d tried to keep Celia under my thumb, but hadn’t worried too much about her being actively harmed.
Plus, I’d thought I knew who the culprit was. Robert’s attempts to keep tabs on my every move made him into the obvious suspect, and I figured the danger I knew was a manageable danger.
Wrong on both counts.
Because I was now confident that Robert wasn’t Celia’s stalker. And some
thing about these three-foot-high letters felt different than the threats that came before.
The blood-red lines were harsh and firm, as if the painter had been in a hurry to get his point across...or had been angry as hell. Penmanship aside, the words themselves were an overt death threat.
“We need to get Celia out of here ASAP,” I mused aloud.
But my mate was already shaking his head. “We can’t split up the pack.”
For all of our semi-dependable ability to communicate through telepathy, sometimes I really wanted to be able to actually read Hunter’s mind during day-to-day conversations. “I agree,” I said carefully, brows furrowed. “But we don’t have to divide the pack in order to protect my mother. We can just take them, and her, some place else. Whoever left this message isn’t going to let well enough alone....”
Before I could continue with that line of reasoning, though, my usually polite mate had broken into my monologue. “We can’t leave,” Hunter explained, “because I have twenty bloodlings shut in the kitchen who threaten to attack anyone except me. And your rogue is holed up back behind those trees. We’ve been waiting for you to arrive because your bloodling won’t let any of us even come close.”
Chapter 22
THE ONLY PERSON LUPE had allowed within fifty feet of her hiding place was the very pregnant teacher who I was now sorely regretting pulling into this mess in the first place. Mrs. Sawyer was red-faced, her sleek blond hair matted with sweat as she crouched down in front of the skittish werewolf. I couldn’t help thinking her current exertion levels couldn’t be good for her pups.
Pups. Kids. Whatever.
“No one’s going to hurt you,” the one-body cooed as she extended her hand toward the rogue. But instead of sniffing, Lupe growled and snapped, her teeth closing a hair’s breadth away from the human’s fingertips.
The bloodling’s eyes had flicked to me repeatedly as I eased my way closer, and each time I’d peered back in hopes of finding a hint of humanity within that piercing gaze. No such luck. Still, up until this point I’d figured Lupe was simply less than thrilled to see me in particular.
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