“Thank you for inviting me to dinner,” Lyssa said as she pushed her empty plates toward the center of the table. “I wasn’t sure you’d be interested in exploring a relationship after… well… D.C.”
I gave her my best mock glare. “You mean where you threw me under the bus by telling the President I—as Consul of the Shifter Nation—was pretty much our head of state? Oh… or what about how you never mentioned that when you dropped the job in my lap?”
Lyssa met my mock glare with a demeanor of insouciant innocence as she replied, “Sure… why not?”
She must’ve taken lessons from Vicki.
“Are you ticklish?” I asked.
Lyssa blinked at the non-sequitur. “Huh? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well, I have to get my revenge somehow, and the other ladies and I have evolved the tickle fight into an art form.”
Her nonchalant expression returned as she answered, “Well, wouldn’t answering your question betray any tactical advantage I might have?”
“I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself… later.”
Lyssa’s expression shifted into a heated look. “Oh, please do.”
The conversation moved to other topics as we sipped our drinks and one of Gladys’s servers retrieved our dishes and asked about refills. That was another nice thing about the diner; none of the staff ever gave the impression a customer needed to hurry up and vacate after the meal.
“We should track down Sloane and let her know about the progress we made,” I remarked. “I’m sort of surprised Hauser hasn’t called already about the cases, but I suppose one day is probably too soon.”
Karleen grinned around her drink’s straw. “Humans don’t move as fast as we do, Wyatt. With us, decision leads directly to action, but—”
She stopped speaking mid-sentence as her expression became one of shock mingled with disbelief. I looked around but didn’t see anything sufficiently odd for such a reaction.
Gabrielle reached out to her, placing a hand on her wrist and asking, “What’s wrong?”
After several more seconds of immobile silence and her disbelief transitioning toward anger, Karleen said, “What the hell are they doing here? I thought I made my point clear enough.”
I followed Karleen’s glare as best I could, and the only thing that stood out in her possible sight line was a group of people on the sidewalk across the street. They looked like a family, and what’s more, they weren’t from Precious.
While most Alphas have rather relaxed rules about other shifters visiting their territory, a few reactionaries still existed who would treat this family’s unannounced arrival as nothing short of an invasion. I was not one of those reactionaries, but even the most progressive Alpha appreciated a quick meet-and-greet along the lines of “Hi, we’re just passing through and needed to stop for the night.”
I turned my gaze from the group as they started crossing the street to regard Karleen. “Is there a problem? Do you know them?”
It’s a wonder Karleen’s teeth hadn’t turned to powder; she clenched her jaw that hard. About the time the first of the group set foot on the sidewalk in front of the diner, she bit out, “They’re my family.”
Oh, boy…
From their expressions, Lyssa and Gabrielle—like me—watched with a certain fascination as the woman leading the group grasped the door handle and pulled it open. The bell overhead rung as she entered the diner, and I knew the moment her eyes adjusted. She froze mid-step as she stared at our table, gaping at the sight of Karleen, blocking the door and creating a pile-up behind her.
Oblivious to the awkward moment filling the space between the woman and Karleen, Gladys flounced over to greet them. “Come on in and find yourselves a table. Don’t worry; we only bite if you ask nicely first.”
The woman blocking the door looked like a fish flopping on the shore as she worked her jaw without making any sounds. Gladys finally realized something was going on, and she turned to look in the direction the newcomer stared, her eyes falling on our table. Her puzzled expression immediately shifted back to a beaming, welcoming smile as she swung back to the woman.
“Oh, now don’t you worry none; that’s just our local Alpha. He’s a friendly, laid-back sort. Come on, come on. We have all kinds of tables. We can even push two or three together if one isn’t enough room.”
Karleen stood and made her way to the door. Before she reached a comfortable distance for confronting the woman I felt safe in naming a close relative, a young girl squeezed through the door and beamed up at Karleen.
“Momma,” the girl asked, her voice laden with eagerness and hope, “is that Aunt Karleen?”
Now, Karleen froze. But the moment didn’t last. Those piled up just outside heard the youngster’s question and almost pushed the woman further into the diner. A couple who didn’t look too much older than Karleen pulled her into a tight hug between them, the woman in the couple making noises about how long it had been since she’d seen Karleen.
Gladys herded the group into the corner opposite us and waved down a couple servers to help her put a few tables together. Once everyone was certain there was no imminent danger, the diner’s other patrons went back to their meals or conversations.
Minutes passed, and two servers delivered their drink orders. When the servers left to put in the family’s food order, Karleen stood and walked back to our table. She stopped between my and Lyssa’s seats, and the nervous wringing of her hands was impossible to miss.
“They’re my family. I… I haven’t spoken to anyone but my sister since I left home. May I introduce you to them?” Karleen asked, her voice far more cautious than I’d ever heard it.
Talk about being caught off guard. Gabrielle and I shared a look, and she said, “Don’t you want to spend the evening with them first? I mean, if it’s been that long…”
Gabrielle’s voice trailed off when Karleen shook her head ‘no,’ then said, “You don’t understand. Nadine convinced the family to bring their get-together here, just to meet me and… well… us.”
“You sure they’ll be okay with what we have with Wyatt?” Gabrielle asked. “Even though it’s not unheard of, it’s still not that common.”
Karleen snorted. “If they have a problem with it, they can get glad in the same pants they got mad in. I’m not apologizing for or hiding what we have.”
Gabrielle and I shared a look that ultimately resulted in me shrugging. “Might as well get it over with, then. No sense in delaying.”
When Gabrielle and I stood, Karleen tapped Lyssa’s shoulder. “You should come, too. You’re here to explore the possibility of a relationship with us, and this is part of ‘us.’”
Lyssa turned to meet Karleen’s eyes with her own and offered a smile of thanks as she stood. “I appreciate that.”
Nadine didn’t know what to expect when Karleen said she was going to get her family, and her worries only increased while her sister stood at the other table and talked with the people sitting there. When they all came back, though, the first thing she noticed was how much stronger the aura of a dominant alpha shifter became. It was like there was two of Karleen standing there, and that’s when Nadine knew. The young man who looked 20-something to everyone else’s thirty-something was the feline primogenitor.
“This is Gabrielle Hassan,” Karleen said. “You may have heard shifters talking about the Huntress? Well, this is her.” Nadine enjoyed watching her brothers sit a little straighter in their seats upon hearing that. “This is Lyssa Westridge; she’s visiting to explore the possibility of a relationship with us, and she’s also one of the feline councilors.” Even Nadine sat a little straighter at that piece of information. “And this is our mate, Wyatt Magnusson, the Alpha of Precious and Godwin County.”
The aura of a supremely powerful alpha shifter became a more elongated oval as the young man Karleen introduced stepped around Gabrielle and Lyssa to approach the table. Nadine watched her brothers for any signs they inte
nded stupidity, and she forced her expression to remain neutral when she saw how intimidated they were. She watched ‘the boys’ measure themselves against the sheer presence Wyatt exuded and fought to keep a straight face when their silent mannerisms reminded her of when they tried standing up to their father after entering adolescence.
A silence descended on the table at Wyatt’s introduction, but he stepped into it with an easy smile and gracious demeanor, saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you and, please, be welcome in our cozy little town. Karleen, you should sit with your family and get to know each other again. If you’re up for it, we’ll have a big picnic tomorrow.”
Nadine smiled at the invitation. Regardless of how young he seemed, Alpha Wyatt handled the situation very well. Yes, the family would very much appreciate catching up with their long-lost relative, and he seemed to understand that should happen before any potential inclusion of Karleen’s own family.
“Are you sure?” Karleen asked, and Nadine couldn’t believe how cautious and nervous her brash, confident, always-in-control sister sounded.
Wyatt simply nodded. “Take all the time you need, and the picnic can wait a day or two if that’s better.”
I watched the hopeful smile that fought to break loose from Karleen’s iron self-control, and I felt a swell of warmth and happiness for her. We’d never really talked about her family, but the few times she had talked around the topic, I could tell how much Karleen’s estrangement bothered her. I reiterated my welcome to her family and pulled Lyssa and Gabrielle with me as we bid them good evening.
My next stop was the payment counter where Gladys looked on. The challenge? Pitching my voice low enough that neither Karleen nor any of her family heard what I was about to say.
“Our check, please,” then almost whispered, “and their food is on me as long as they’re in town.”
Gladys almost beamed. “You are a good man, Alpha Wyatt, and I am damn glad you moved to Precious.”
I passed Gladys a fifty to cover our meals and a healthy tip for the server, and Gladys promised to give me the bills after their visit. We turned and waved at Karleen and her family as we left the diner.
* * *
As soon as we walked beyond the windows of the diner, Gabrielle pulled me into a tight hug. “I love you, Wyatt. That was such a good thing you did for Karleen.”
I couldn’t keep from giving Gabrielle a quick kiss. “Love you, too, and I know how much she needed this. I’m glad they came here.”
The sight of the hotel prompted a thought, and I led the ladies across the street and into the lobby.
Melody beamed at us as we stepped through the doors, chirping, “Hi! What I can I do for you?”
“Do you have a large group of new guests per chance? The Vesper family et al?”
“Why, yes, we do, Alpha Wyatt,” Melody replied, her expression full of contrived surprise. “However did you know?”
I smiled at Melody’s antics, then said, “They’re officially guests of the Alpha. Send their hotel bill to me when they check out.”
“Message received, Alpha sir. Their money’s no good here.”
“Thank you, Melody. Have a nice evening.”
We turned and exited the hotel, and we resumed our journey to the Alpha’s house. A short distance down the street from the hotel, Lyssa asked. “So, what’s our plan for the rest of the evening?”
I replied with my best confident smile. “Well, Gabrielle and I could teach you how to play ‘Catch the Cat.’”
17
Winnifred Hauser left Burke with her preparations to interview Leah Brenner and headed for the room where Mitchell Cavendish waited. She nodded in passing to one of her fellow agents as she approached her destination and fought hard to keep a straight face. Yes, every person in this field office was a ‘fellow’ agent, but she and Burke were the only agents from Paranormal Branch on the floor, possibly the only Paranormal Branch agents in the entire zip code. Her section of the agency didn’t exactly advertise and often recruited through either obscure psychological evaluations or when a regular agent had an ‘Oh, shit… the supernatural is real’ moment. That was how Hauser herself joined, but this was not the time for reminiscing. Hauser rolled her shoulders and her head while she pushed those memories aside and focused on the interview with Mitchell Cavendish.
One deep breath slowly exhaled, and time to go…
Mitchell Cavendish looked up as the door opened to admit a thirty-something woman in a navy pantsuit. She wore her honey blond hair in an attractive up-do, and Mitchell admitted to himself that he’d probably hit on her if they met somewhere else. She placed a folder on the table in front of her seat and unbuttoned her blazer before pulling the chair back and sitting.
“Mister Cavendish,” she said, “I am Special Agent Winnifred Hauser, and we are here today to discuss your sins… at least a few specific sins. I’m not sure we have sufficient time to discuss all of them.”
She paused, but if she expected him to volunteer something or speak to fill the silence, she didn’t know him as well as she thought. So far, this little escapade was tame compared to SERE school. He’d wait her out.
The pause ended up so brief that Cavendish wondered if it was a test. “Mister Cavendish, I refer to the events on the 30th floor of a Midtown high-rise, here in Manhattan. Specifically, the events where you and your associate Leah Brenner attempted to hold one Victoria Magnusson against her will.”
Shit. How had these guys ended up with that? Knowledge of the supernatural still required SCI clearance in most cases.
“The Magi Assembly lodged a formal complaint with the Secretary of State.”
Seriously? She expected him to cough up classified info because some people wrote a harsh letter to the Secretary of State? That’s not how things worked.
“I see your reticence to cooperate, Mister Cavendish. That’s fair. You don’t know me or my clearance. The thing is, your boss already hung you and your associate out to dry. The President called the Director of the CIA to the Oval Office and had a long, pointed conversation about why one of that agency’s black operations summoned and threatened Miss Magnusson, including your claim that you have a Magi. Especially considering the CIA is not authorized to conduct operations inside United States territory. The Director and the next three levels down disavowed all knowledge of your activities. Here, let me show you.”
Hauser pulled a mobile device from her blazer pocket and fiddled with it for a few moments before placing it on the tabletop and tapping the screen. The device began playing a recording that started with the President greeting the Director of the CIA, and it wasn’t long before the President got to the heart of the matter. The longer Cavendish listened to his director’s passionate assertion that he knew nothing of Mitchell Cavendish’s actions or any Magi being held, the more Cavendish realized his career quite probably was over.
As soon as the recording ended, Hauser gave him a bright smile. “So, tell me about your captive Magi, Mister Cavendish, or would you prefer I recommend to the President we turn you over to the Magi Assembly? I hear they have rather painful methods for rooting through criminals’ minds.”
Winnifred Hauser exited the interview room and soon found Agent Burke leaning against one of the desk’s they were given while they worked in the Manhattan field office. Regardless of what else Hauser might say of the woman, Edwina Burke had one hell of a poker face.
“Well?” Hauser asked as she dropped her folder and mobile onto her desk.
Burke shrugged and maintained her non-expression. “Brenner basically told me where to go and what to do when I arrived. Pretty much dared me to do my worst. How about you?”
“Yeah… I struck out with Cavendish, too. I even played the recording where their bosses sold him out to dry.”
“They’re calling our bluff about turning them over to the Magi,” Burke agreed. “I say let’s show ‘em it’s not a bluff.”
Hauser nodded her agreement. “As much as I hate to admit i
t, we probably don’t have the information or the tools to break either Cavendish or Brenner. Have you looked at their jackets?”
“A couple of very scary people on paper. I’m not sure I’d want to meet either one in a dark alley if they were of malicious intent.”
A thought forced its way to the forefront of Hauser’s mind, and she chuckled. “We could always call Wyatt and tell him these two threatened Vicki.”
Burke rolled her eyes. “I thought we wanted information and not a bloody mess.”
“Fine,” Hauser replied, dragging the word into a tired sigh that would’ve impressed even the most jaded teenager. She retrieved her actual mobile and dialed a number.
“Nathanson, here,” the deputy director said upon accepting the call.
“Sir, this is Special Agent Winnifred Hauser. Burke and I are not confident we will break either Cavendish or Brenner, and we found no records in their offices about any captive Magi. What are your thoughts on turning them over to the Assembly?”
Silence ensued for several moments.
“I’m wrestling with my knee-jerk reaction that we do not give up our people, Hauser. Even if their chain of command is swearing on a warehouse of Bibles that Cavendish and Brenner aren’t theirs, despite the employment records we have. You should have seen the looks on their faces when the President laid those records in front of them. They were priceless. How long until you have to cut them loose?”
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