Betrayed: Days of the Rogue

by Nicky Charles

  Damn, he was a bastard.

  Chapter 17

  The backdoor slammed shut as Eve entered the kitchen the next morning. How Rafe managed to hear her coming, she’d never figure out. She’d purposely walked as quietly as possible knowing his tendency to avoid her…except for last night. That had definitely not been avoidance. At least not at first. The memory of his mouth on hers, of his body filling her, had her curling her toes against the polished wood floor. But then afterwards…

  Her mouth flattened into an exasperated line as she recalled how he’d clammed up after the fact. At the time she’d been hurt, but half way through the night that had changed to anger and now, this morning… Well, she was going to have it out with him. Calmly, coolly. They were both adults and there was no reason they couldn’t deal with what was between them.

  Of course, Rafe had already managed to sabotage her plan which had been to talk to him before he left the house. But that was okay. She’d track him down somehow. He couldn’t avoid her forever!

  A secretive smile graced her lips as she prepared toast and tea, then leaned a hip against the counter and stared out the window. Aha! There he was. Apparently he’d decided to forego his habitual morning run. Instead, Rafe was outside using the limb of a sturdy tree as a bar for chin ups. She watched the muscles in his arms bunch and contract as he repeatedly lifted himself over and over. The man wasn’t even breaking into a sweat, which was a bit of a shame because she’d love to lick the saltiness from his chest.

  Eve rolled her eyes at her erotic thoughts. When she’d arrived home last night she’d been so angry with him for the way he’d started ordering her around. Angry…and turned on. He was so…so… She struggled to find an appropriate word. Bossy? Manly? Dominating? Whatever it was, it made her insides melt. And arguing with him just made it more…fun? Exciting? The corner of her mouth twitched as she realized how much enjoyment she got out of watching him try to keep his cool. Did he realize a little muscle twitched in his jaw? It wasn’t overly noticeable but she’d become an expert at observing him.

  An imp inside her wondered exactly how far she could go before he’d lose control. The idea was thrilling and a bit scary. What exactly would he do if she pushed the right buttons? Her breath hitched as she contemplated the possibilities before she shook her head. Rafe seemed to have a tight leash on his feelings, an inner strength that would never be completely broken. He’d always be in control of himself. The idea made her feel…safe.

  Taking another sip of tea, she watched him drop to the ground and begin a set of rapid push-ups. For a doctor he seemed awfully fit. Good thing though. Last night he’d picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all, and had taken her against the wall. It was the sort of thing she’d read about in romance books but never experienced. Now she couldn’t wait to try it again.

  However, as much fun as it was to speculate about Rafe ravishing her, it wasn’t likely to happen if she didn’t do something. He’d pulled back afterwards, sending her off on her own. Obviously, Rafe had reservations. In her experience the words ‘we have to talk’ seldom led to a relationship moving forward.

  Regretfully, Eve turned away from the window.

  “Ahhh!” She gave a yelp of surprise, tossing her empty tea cup into the air and jumping back. Damien was standing right behind her.

  He neatly caught her cup before it hit the floor and set it on the counter. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you.” A hint of a smile passed over his usually sombre features.

  “Don’t do that!” Eve pressed a hand to her pounding heart and glared at him. “How do you move so quietly?”

  He shrugged. “Just a skill I picked up.”

  “Did you sneak up on your wife like that, too?” She asked the question and immediately regretted it.

  Damien’s face went expressionless. “Only once.” He moved to brush past her and she reached out, touching his arm.

  “Has she been…dead…very long?” She stared at his face, seeing the pain wash over his features.

  He closed his eyes. Under her fingers she could feel the muscles in his arm bunch. “Eighteen months.”

  Something inside her prompted her to probe deeper. “What happened? Was she ill? A car accident?”

  For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer, could almost see the inner battle he was waging. Finally he responded. “A gas leak. The house exploded just as I arrived.” His mouth barely moved as he spoke, the expression in his eyes one of pain and guilt.

  “I’m so sorry.” Unthinkingly, she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug. At first he stood stiffly in her embrace, rejection of the gesture radiating from him and then, oh so slowly, she felt him move his arms until they wrapped around her. She could hear the steady beat of his heart, the shuddering breath that escaped him as he relaxed in her arms, the strength and warmth of his body melding with her own. How long had it been since anyone had hugged him?

  The kitchen door slammed shut, the sound causing Eve to jump away from Damien and spin around. For some reason she felt guilty. Rafe stood in the doorway, his jaw jutted, his brow lowered. She actually thought she heard him growl! “Damien, I warned you to stay away.”

  “Stay away? How’s he supposed to help you fix the place up if he stays away?” Eve looked between the two men. The air crackled with undertones she didn’t understand.

  Damien’s expression had transformed from sorrow to a sneer. “She’s right, Rafe. Explain that to the lady.”

  Rafe’s nostrils flared, his muscles bunched as if ready to spring into action. “I want you to work at your place today. Start on the porch.” The words were spoken slowly and softly, but Eve could hear a layer of threat beneath the surface.

  Damien didn’t move. His gaze was locked on Rafe’s. Tension between the two became a palpable thing, hot and thick, threatening to explode. The moment stretched out and Eve shifted uneasily. The two were having a standoff and neither seemed inclined to back down. Not sure what to do, she gathered her courage.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Will the two of you stop the ridiculous macho routine?” She turned to Damien and made a shooing gesture with her hands. “You have work to do. Go tear down the porch or fix it or something. And you,” she looked at Rafe. “I want to talk to you.” Planting her hands on her hips, she lifted her chin and sent glaring looks in both directions.

  Damien blinked then gave a soft amused huff. “Like a little kitten trying to be a tiger.” He tapped her on the nose and left without another word.

  “A kitten!” Eve protested the statement and would have followed Damien to give him a piece of her mind, but Rafe stopped her.

  “He’s right, you know.” His voice sounded deeper than usual despite the hint of teasing.

  She spun around and glared at him. “I am not a kitten!”

  “Oh, yes, you are,” he countered and pulled her into his arms. He fisted his hand in her hair and held her head in place before kissing her so thoroughly that she had to cling to him because her knees had gone weak. His mouth moved over hers, skilled and addictive, causing exquisite sensations to curl in her stomach. When he was done, he looked down at her, a self-satisfied smirk playing around the corner of his mouth. “Yep, you’re a kitten and I’m the big bad wolf.”

  “Um…” It took her a minute to collect her thoughts and when she did she pushed against his chest. He let her go, holding her arms lightly, making sure she was steady on her feet. No one’s kiss had ever affected her like Rafe’s and she wasn’t quite sure she liked it. Well, she liked it—loved it even—but it also made her feel needy and vulnerable. Irritated with her own weakness, and with him for his…his…caveman tactics, she lifted her chin. He was acting like he was an animal, staking his claim. “You’re not a wolf.” She gave a sniff and tucked her hair behind her ears. “And I am not a kitten.”

  “Have it your way.” There was an uncharacteristic playfulness about him, as if he’d forgotten his sombre self outside. The corner of his mouth was quirked
upwards and he stared down at her, seeming to trace every line of her face with his eyes. He was still holding her arms lightly, his thumbs making gentle circles on her skin. A feeling of warmth slowly spread through her, and Eve felt herself relaxing, leaning towards him. He appeared to be leaning towards her, too, when quite unexpectedly his expression turned stony as if he’d suddenly recalled something quite serious.

  As he stepped away she noticed the muscle working in his jaw, and his voice sounded gruff when he spoke. “I told you to stay away from Damien.”

  Her mouth might still tingle from their kiss, her body still beg her to press against him—however that didn’t mean she was going to let him boss her around. “You have no right to tell me what to do.”

  “No?” He reached out and, holding her chin, lightly brushed over her bottom lip with his thumb, his gaze hot and knowing. “Not even after last night?”

  “I…” Eve hesitated. This was what she’d wanted to talk to him about, but now that the moment had arrived she felt awkward and all the comments that she’d planned on making had a ‘file not found error’ blinking in their stead. She shrugged her shoulders in feigned nonchalance and said the first thing that popped into her head. “What about it? We had sex, that’s all.

  His eyes darkened and that tiny tell-tale nerve pulsed in his jaw again. “That’s not what I remember.”

  “You’re the one that went cold afterwards.” The words blurted from her, a bit of the hurt she’d felt evident in them. Last night she’d hoped he would have joined her in the shower, or even made his way to her room. He hadn’t, of course, and she’d lain in bed for hours staring at the ceiling wondering why.

  “There are things we need to discuss; about who you are and who I am. What we are.” He gave her a meaningful look, but for the life of her she couldn’t think what he might be talking about. His job maybe?

  “You mean you being a psychiatrist?” She frowned. “Or was it psychologist?” She never could keep the terms straight.

  “A psychiatrist who focuses more on psychotherapy, hence I use the latter term most often.” He answered distractedly, shoving his hands in his pockets and looked about the room as if searching for the right words. “And yes, that’s part of the issue. My work is very draining. I came here to rest, not to get involved with someone.”

  She considered that for a moment. “Well, at least you’re being honest.”

  “And what about you?” Rafe turned the tables on her.

  Was he asking about her job, or if she was being honest? He knew she was an artist so it must be the latter. She couldn’t really tell him about being Fae; he’d likely think she was crazy but she needed to give some sort of response. “Like you, I came here for some solitude. I have…things…I need to sort out.”

  “Things?” He quirked a brow and looked at her expectantly.

  She hesitated, even opened her mouth to explain but then changed her mind and gave a nod.

  He waited a beat before replying. “It would seem we’re at an impasse then.”

  She dipped her head in acknowledgement. This wasn’t at all how she’d envisioned the conversation going but now that it had started she didn’t know how to get it on track. And really, what had she been thinking, planning a relationship with him? Her stay here was temporary; she was still learning to control her Fae abilities. The timing was all wrong. And yet…she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was making a big mistake by not telling him.

  Perhaps some of that showed in her expression for Rafe suddenly reached out and held her chin, tipping her face so they looked directly at each other. Her cheeks heated under his intent gaze. He seemed to be looking into her soul, searching out her secrets. A tickling in her brain gave her the crazy idea that he was trying to read her mind. It was ridiculous of course. Rafe was no more empathic than she was a…a wolf! Still, she instinctively threw up a barrier, blocking access to her feelings and stepping back.

  “Eve…” He hesitated. Her stomach clenched in a sudden attack of nerves, inexplicably not wanting to hear what he might say.

  Grabbing the tea cup from the counter, she began to wash it, while searching for a way to distract him from his intense contemplation of her.

  “So…what’s your real problem with Damien? I can’t believe you’re jealous of me spending time with him.”

  He seemed about to protest the sudden change of topic, tightening his mouth in obvious frustration, but then followed her lead. “I don’t want you hurt. He’s not exactly what he might appear to be.”

  “Well, he seems perfectly harmless to me. Gorgeous, yet sad and lonely. I feel sorry for him.”

  “And is that why you were hugging him?” His voice cooled noticeably.

  Eve paused, her brows bunching together. Why had she hugged Damien? It had felt like the right thing to do at the time. And it wasn’t like she had feelings for him, was it? No, of course not. After all, she’d had great steamy sex with Rafe not even twenty-four hours ago. So, what had the hug been about? She pondered the question a second longer before answering.

  “I was offering sympathy. He told me how his wife died.”

  “He did?” Rafe sounded surprised, and then his eyes got a distant look about them. He appeared to be mulling something over, and Eve wondered if he’d forgotten she was there.

  “Rafe?”

  “Hmm?” He gave his head a little shake. “Sorry. Listen, I’ve got some things I have to do. I’ll be in my room working on the computer most of the day if you need me.” Even before he was done speaking, he’d begun to leave the room.

  Eve blinked, wondering what had just happened. Something was going on with Rafe and Damien and it seemed to be a lot more than repair work.

  Chapter 18

  “Smith, I want to know what this is about!” Adrian Somerset entered Captain Fielding’s office, which Reno was temporarily using. The man hadn’t bothered to knock and Reno bit back a growl of annoyance.

  “What ‘this’ are you talking about?” Reno swivelled his chair away from the computer so he was facing the head of the Rogue Retrieval unit.

  “This investigation.” Somerset threw the memo down on the desk.

  Reno flicked a glance at the page. He knew the contents well and was, in fact, heading up the probe until Captain Fielding returned. “Seems clear enough to me. High Council wants to review why so many of the rogues your people have been sent to retrieve have died. There’s been a sharp increase recently.”

  “And all are easily explained. Look at this case.” Somerset pulled a page out of the file he was holding and placed it on the desk before sitting down. “In Florida, there were multiple sightings of a wolf and several pets were found mauled. Tracking records showed a rogue was in the area. My men were sent to investigate, and it quickly became clear the rogue was responsible. I ordered them to retrieve it. Before they did a woman died at his hand. When they cornered him, he resisted violently. End of story.”

  “That’s one case, Adrian.” Reno studied the paper briefly before setting it aside.

  “But each incident is almost identical. Wolf sightings. Locals terrorized. Animals killed. Open and shut cases. Any idiot can see that!” He tossed the entire file on the desk.

  Reno leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “Are you calling the members of High Council ‘idiots’?”

  Somerset sputtered and shifted in his seat. “Of course not! What I mean is that the evidence speaks for itself.”

  “Hmm.” Reno made a non-committal sound, picked up the file and flicked through the pages. He knew some of these cases in detail because Brandi had served as the DC for them. Others he was only now becoming more familiar with. “And in each case, the rogue killed a human less than twenty-four hours prior to their encounter with your men.”

  “Are you implying that my team doesn’t work fast enough?” Somerset sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes.

  “Just stating the obvious.” Reno closed the file and slid it towards the other man. �
��Any idea as to the motives the rogues might have had?”

  “Motives? A rogue doesn’t have a motive for what it does. They’re rogues for God’s sake!”

  “Very few killers murder randomly. They have their reasoning, though it might make no logical sense to us.”

  Somerset snorted. “You sound like that bleeding heart doctor.”

  “Dr. McRae?”

  “That’s the one. He tried to sell me some crap about talking to the rogues, as if they’d understand. They’re all crazy, everyone knows that. It’s probably McRae’s fault that there’s even an investigation!”

  Reno kept his face impassive while wondering how the hell the man had ever gained the position he was in. “Your feelings will be duly noted in my report.” He held back the grimace he wanted to make at the politically correct response he’d just mouthed. Calling the man a bastard was what he’d really like to say.

  “Good. I knew you’d see sense, Smith.” Somerset nodded and stood up.

  “Oh, by the way, did you notice any correlation between the victims of the rogues?” Reno tossed out the question.

  “No, but then again I never looked. That’s not my department. I just bring ‘em back dead or alive.” He barely glanced up from the papers he was tucking neatly into the file folder.

  No, you wouldn’t look would you, you ass, Reno said to himself.

  “Thank you for your time.” Somerset stuck out his hand as if they’d just completed a business meeting. Had he forgotten that he’d barged in uninvited?

  Reno grunted and couldn’t resist giving the man’s hand an extra hard squeeze. Somerset winced and surreptitiously flexed his fingers afterwards.

  Just as he was turning to go, he stopped and nodded towards the chair he’d been in. “You might want to leave a message for Captain Fielding. That’s an extremely uncomfortable chair.”

  “I’ll be sure to let him know.” As soon as the man left, Reno grinned. Maybe Captain Fielding wasn’t so crazy after all for not replacing that damned chair. Who knew how long Somerset might have hung around without it!