by R. J. Blain
“You know what happens now? I get calls from my mother asking if you’ll be cooking again. That was years ago, and she’s still asking. You’re sick, Declan. Completely sick.”
I laughed. “You enjoyed every bite of it and you know it.”
“He can’t beat Navy cooks,” Lane declared.
I shifted my eyes from the road to the rearview mirror and said nothing. I did, however, smile.
Maybe Anthony wasn’t a werewolf, but he turned on the SEAL and hissed, “He’s better.”
“How would you know?”
“My great uncle was one when he was in the service. Ate his cooking all the time. He begs for Declan’s food, too. Begs for it. He’s corrupted my entire family.” My friend and conspirator kneed the back of my seat. “He was asking when you’d come and cook for him in his veritable old age again, by the way.”
“I told him the only way I’d feed him again was if he gave me his sugar cookie recipe. No recipe, no cooking. That’s the deal, Tony.”
“You bake, too? I’m really taking you home with me now, Declan.” Nicole made a sound suspiciously like a purr. “No one bakes better than Richard, but two bakers is better than one.”
“Don’t challenge him, please. Please don’t. He’ll take you up on it. We’ll all get fat, and it’ll be your fault.” Anthony sighed. “I’ll beg.”
“Baked goods last a while, and with seven stressed women joining us soon, I intend to be prepared.” The ladies made a convenient excuse. By the time my wolf was through with the full moon, there wouldn’t be a lot of cookies left over for them to enjoy, but that wasn’t my problem.
All I cared about was making it through the full moon without sprouting a pink, glowing fur coat in front of anyone.
Chapter Sixteen
In my determination to cook my way through the night, I bought so many ingredients Lane had to reorganize the SUV to make everything fit. Even then, everyone except me ended up holding something on their lap.
As both punishment and a challenge, I made Desmond hold the three dozen eggs I had purchased along with every other fragile object I could find, including a delicate bottle of olive oil. I needed the oil for my cooking, but I had chosen the most fragile bottle I could find just to make the other werewolf carry it, threatening life and limb if the horrifically expensive bottle broke.
“Artisan olive oil,” the werewolf snarled at me, his cheek twitching. “Isn’t regular olive oil good enough for you?”
“No.”
“Now look here, son.”
I ignored Desmond snapping and growling, driving with far more care than I had prior to my stop at the market. The place was only twenty minutes out from my destination, but I estimated it’d take me thirty or forty depending on the roads.
If any of my eggs broke, it wouldn’t be because I took the twisting, turning roads leading into the Swiss Alps at a reckless speed. It’d been years since I had been to the town, but I remembered the barely there pathways leading to the lodge all too well.
They hadn’t changed. The owners of the cabins hadn’t, either, although Bodwin had sounded older and far more tired than I liked. He’d been happy to hook me up with both of his cabins, and he hadn’t even charged me a fortune for them.
My wolf liked Bodwin and his irreverent ways. He played life by his own rules, and my wolf and I respected that. Add in the fact he enjoyed art almost as much as I did, and we were quite comfortable with each other.
Before I left, I’d have to surprise him with a visit to his reclusive home farther up the mountain. If I brought cookies, he probably wouldn’t shoot me again.
Maybe.
“You’re far too pleased with yourself, boy.” Desmond didn’t sound happy, which made it difficult for me to keep from grinning.
“Dad, leave the poor man alone. If he wants to cook, let him cook.” Nicole thumped her knees into the back of her father’s seat. “You’re supposed to be an adult.”
“He’s really not,” Anthony muttered.
“I know. It’s terrible. What exactly did he do to you? I will ask Richard and Sanders to straighten him out.”
“Kidnapping and armed ‘encouragement.’ Desmond wanted his help locating me,” I supplied. “International kidnapping, if that makes a difference.”
“Oh, it does, Declan. It does.” Nicole cracked her knuckles. “I think I’ll help them. Father, did you really kidnap the poor man?”
“I needed his help to meet with Declan. I paid him for it. I’m paying for the entire trip. It’s not a kidnapping if I hired him.”
“He pointed a gun at my head until I accepted his check and agreed to help. He even walked me to the bank to cash it to make certain there were no problems.” At Anthony’s faked sniffles, I bit my lip so I wouldn’t grin or laugh.
Desmond shifted and fidgeted, and I felt his glare on me.
“Break a single one of my eggs, Desmond, and I really will be pissed.” I glanced at the man before turning my full attention to the road. “And since we’re on the subject of international kidnappings, you’ll triple Tony’s pay for pointing a gun at him in addition to hazard pay. You do not want to know what will happen if he gets hurt because you dragged him into this, Desmond.”
“If my idiot father doesn’t agree, I’ll pay the difference,” Nicole offered. “It’s my husband you’re helping, after all.”
Desmond sighed. “I’ll pay. I’ll also make certain your Anthony’s protected while you’re working.”
“You do that. Now, there are some rules for staying at this safe house,” I announced, changing the subject before someone else took control of the conversation. “The owners really, really do not like anyone up on their mountain. If you want to be shot at with a high-powered rifle, go up the trails towards the peak. They might make you dance for them instead of killing you, but I wouldn’t make any bets about it.”
“What kind of safe house is this?” Lane muttered.
“The best kind. You should see what they do to people who haven’t asked permission to be on their property.”
“What are the other rules?”
“No one, and I mean no one, goes on the north face of the mountain. It’s an avalanche risk. They’ve already had a few snowfalls at the peak, and one wrong move could trigger one. So, don’t go to the north face of the mountain.”
“This place sounds safe,” Desmond muttered.
“The owners have two dogs. They’re big, they’re mean, and they like to play on the east face of the mountain. They don’t leave that side unless provoked, so I really recommend you avoid the east, too. Our cabin is on the west slope.”
Desmond sighed. “What’s the problem with the south slope?”
“Ski resort and village. Small place, quiet, nice people. Combined, I think they speak maybe ten words of English. Avoid it, unless you happen to speak Romansh.”
“Romansh? Never heard of it.”
“Most haven’t. It’s fairly obscure. I know the basics, but that’s about it.”
Nicole leaned forward, propping her elbows on the center console between the front seats. “How did you learn Romansh?”
I laughed, and deciding to yank the tails of both werewolves, I replied, “Well, last time I was here, the owners shot me. I stuck around for a while after that.”
“The owners shot you?”
“I neglected to bring him cookies the last time I went up to his place.”
“He shot you because you didn’t bring him cookies.”
“My cookies are that good, Miss Nicole.”
“They really are. I’ve considered breaking his knee caps to keep him around my place so he’d be forced to cook for me.” Anthony chuckled, jostling Nicole aside so he could prod me with his elbow. “Three dozen eggs makes a lot of cookies.”
“I’ll even let you have some, Tony. Pity cookies for the poor programmer.”
“Pity cookies are the best cookies. Can I have a whole batch?”
“If you swear to stay out of tr
ouble and keep out of the line of fire, you can have two batches.”
“Richard’s not going to be happy if you steal my daughter with your superior baking skills.”
Anthony snorted. “You’re joking, right? Your daughter’s safe. Declan doesn’t even like women. He doesn’t like men, either. He actually doesn’t like anyone. He only tolerates me because I do nice things with computers and keep giving him interesting toys to play with. Declan has a strict no-woman policy.”
“And thank you for talking about my sex life,” I muttered, reconsidering my stance on baking anyone any cookies at all. I could make omelets with the eggs. I liked omelets.
My wolf, however, growled his disapproval in my head.
“Your lack of one,” Anthony shot back.
“That’s payback for letting Desmond hire me, isn’t it?”
Anthony clapped, slow and deliberate. “It sure is. I did not see almond flour anywhere in your acquisitions.”
“You’re worse than a dog with a bone.” Shaking my head, I turned on my headlights so I wouldn’t get caught at dusk on tiny, treacherous, car-eating Swiss roads leading up into the mountains. “Yellow-bellied marmot.”
“No almond flour,” Anthony hissed.
“What are you, a cat? Sit back where you belong. The peanut gallery doesn’t get to be up in the front while I’m driving.”
I caught a glimpse of Lane’s hand descending on the top of Anthony’s head, and moments later, my friend made a startled, indignant squawk before disappearing out of my field of vision.
“I’ll keep them contained back here, sir.”
“Now, be quiet. We’re in wolf country, and I’d rather not hit one or roll the vehicle all the way down the mountain before we get to where we’re going.”
“I’d rather you not roll it down at all,” Desmond muttered.
“If you keep being a bothersome hedge-born lewdster, I’ll light it on fire before shoving it off the cliff.”
“Please be quiet, Dad. For just this once, please be quiet.”
Silence was a precious gift, and for the ten minutes of quiet I got finishing the drive up the mountain on too narrow roads, I’d make sure Nicole got a batch of my best brownies.
The pair of cabins halfway up the mountain required me to drive on a ledge carved into the side of the mountain. The SUV handled like a dream, but the fact I had less than six inches of leeway stirred my wolf.
He liked a challenge, and he loved the forced precision and careful way I maneuvered the vehicle. Adrenaline and his excitement washed through me, and it took every bit of my will to swallow my eager whines.
When I pulled in front of the cabins, which were surrounded by sparse evergreens and thick blankets of snow, everyone in the car breathed out a sigh of relief.
“What the actual fuck was that?” Nicole whispered.
“A road?” I put the SUV into park and twisted around in my seat. “I’m pretty sure it’s a road.”
“That may have been the sexiest handling of a car I have ever seen.” Nicole’s eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed.
I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of her, which I promptly texted to her husband. To add insult to injury, I relayed her message word for word. “Thank you, ma’am.”
I got out of the car, trudged to the smaller of the two cabins, and lifted the welcome mat, dug up the loose stone, and retrieved the keys in their magnetic box. Once I replaced everything as I found it, I returned to the SUV, holding them out to Desmond. “The keys to your castle, Mr. Desmond. You and your lovely daughter will be sharing that one. I’ll have others with me.”
My phone pinged, and I checked the message. I laughed at the string of question marks, stepped away from the car, and took a picture of the cliffside road I had traversed to get to the lodge before sending it to him.
“There’s actually reception here?” Anthony joined me, burdened with paper bags. “These aren’t cabins. They are mini mansions. What sort of safe house is this?”
“The best kind. Difficult to find if you don’t know where they are, easily defensible, and multiple ways out if you’re cornered.” I hurried to the front door where we’d be staying and dug out the key, unlocking it. I had my gun out of its holster and sweeping the dark room. I prowled through the place, checking every corner.
All was quiet, and I relaxed, stowing the Beretta. Returning to the front door, I flicked on the light switch.
Anthony chuckled. “Hey, electricity! Score.”
“Did you really think I’d cook so much food without it?” I shook my head. “Of course there’s electricity.”
“How about internet?”
“Keep dreaming, Tony.”
“I’m allergic to places without internet, Declan. You should know this by now. What am I going to do without the internet?”
“Read a book.”
“Where am I going to get a book?”
“The library.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, we are not at a library.”
I pointed down the hall leading deeper into the cabin. “Third door on the right.”
“There’s a library?”
“Help unload the car,” I ordered, unpacking the ingredients so I could get to work cooking the night away. “You can read while I cook.”
“You’re not going to make me serve as your minion tonight?”
“Not this time.” With two werewolves in close proximity, the last thing I wanted to do was have anyone hovering nearby. The Halloween I had sequestered myself with Anthony, worrying about turning on my friend had been enough to keep my wolf carefully leashed. It’d be bad enough fighting my wolf’s more aggressive tendencies with a SEAL under foot.
If Desmond and his daughter came too close, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to restrain the restless, wild side of my life.
My phone rang, and I checked the display. When I saw Richard’s number, I answered, “McGrady.”
“I’ll be dropping off the radar for a day or two. Need to get rid of this phone.”
“Okay. What’s your status?”
“Annoyed. This tail is persistent.”
“I have a few numbers for you to memorize.”
“Okay. I’m ready.”
“Sec.” I headed to the SUV, dug out the stash of phones, and started relaying them to Richard while everyone else stared at me. Returning to the cabin, I headed into one of the back bedrooms and closed the door so no one would overhear me. “I want you and your ladies to make as much of a run for it as you can tonight. Work your way into the Alps, preferably in the direction of France, and make it difficult for your tail to follow. Stay away from civilization. Tomorrow night, discreetly find a place you can drop an email or text message to me. Borrow someone’s phone if necessary. It’s preferred, actually. A hotel can probably send a message on your behalf.”
“I can do that.”
“Good, I’m destroying this phone as soon as I hang up.”
“Understood. And McGrady?”
“Yeah?”
“Keep an eye on Nicole, would you?”
“Was already planning on it. I’m even keeping an eye on that loose cannon of a father-in-law you have, too.”
Richard sighed. “Thanks.”
“Quick question.”
“What?”
“Should I be worried if he wants me to call him Dad?”
“You poor son of a bitch. What did you do?”
“I don’t put up with his poppycock.”
“That’d do it. Just give them some space tonight.”
“Will do. Take care of yourself out there.”
Richard hung up. For a long moment, I stared at my phone. Sitting on the bed, I dialed Bob’s number.
On the third ring, he answered, “Hello, Bob.”
There was a faint murmur of conversation in the background, as well as other ambient noises I recognized as coming from an airport terminal. “Are you at an airport?”
“Damn, Bob. Your hearing is sha
rp.”
“Why are you at an airport?”
“I was bored.”
“You were bored.”
“Very.”
“You were bored so you went to an airport?”
“This is a pretty nice airport. I really should come to Paris more often.”
I choked on my own spit. “You’re where?”
“So, how do I get to you, Bob? Please help. There’s a very angry woman with my credit card and more guns than the military, and she doesn’t need any one of her weapons to rearrange my spine. I made a severe error of judgement.”
Drawing deep breaths, I pinched the bridge of my nose in an effort to keep calm. “Please put the angry woman on the phone.”
“That might not be wise.”
“Bob.”
“Yes, Bob?”
“The woman. Put her on the phone.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Now.”
A yelp heralded the clatter of the phone striking a surface. Moments later, a woman asked, “Who the fuck are you?”
“Bob’s friend. You can call me Bob.”
“Bob.”
“That’s right, ma’am. Why is Bob in France? Were you aware he’s a potential target?”
“I’m aware.”
“You evaded six SEALs to get him to France, didn’t you?”
“It was entertaining.”
Maybe Nicole liked car driving skills, but nothing wound me and my wolf up quite as much as a woman who could handle some of the best-trained men in the world.
“Marry me,” I blurted.
She laughed long and hard. “That escalated quickly. You sure do talk sweet, but I’ll have to pass. I’m only into men who can shoot better than I can.”
“I’m a sniper. I’m even a decent one, though I’m a bit rusty right now.”
“You have my attention.”
“Major Declan McGrady of the Marines. Pleasure to meet you. Bob hired me.”
“Amber. Major, huh? You must be good if, uh, Bob went to you.”
“I have my moments.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“Why is Bob in France? It’s a possibility he’s a main target. Don’t feed me a load of poppycock. Can you guard him against a SEAL team if necessary?”