“It isn’t pleasant. But that’s why I’m worried that he hasn’t come back yet. The only reason to be away this long is because he’s really having it out with his father. Or because he decided to go after mine, as well.”
Corinne looked uneasy for a moment, then offered a reassuring smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing like that. His father is a busy man, right? He probably had to wait for him to get out of a meeting or something. Or maybe they decided to go out for lunch to talk. Men always talk better over food and a martini. It’s like their version of side-by-side pedicure chairs.”
She sounded less than convincing, but Saskia didn’t argue. She was too busy worrying.
After they tidied up the kitchen, Corinne took one look at her friend’s face and proclaimed that a distraction was in order. “How about a movie? With the size of that TV I noticed in the den, I’m guessing there’s a DVD library the size of Guam in one of those cabinets.”
They did find several drawers full of discs, including a handful of recordings by stand-up comedians, but even Eddie Izzard couldn’t keep Saskia’s attention from straying toward the clock or her ears from straining to hear the sound of Nic’s key in the front door. Halfway through Dress to Kill, Corinne stopped the film and threw up her hands.
“Okay, that’s it. I can’t take it anymore,” she declared, using the remote to flick off the television and dragging Saskia off the sofa. “You’re driving me crazy. We have to get out of here.”
“What? What are you talking about? I can’t leave,” Saskia protested, and her friend grasped her wrist and began hauling her toward the door. “I have to be here when Nicolas gets back.”
“Honey, if you’re still here when Nic gets back, you’re going to be ready for a padded room. You’re already losing your mind, and frankly, you’re taking me along for the ride. We’ll leave Nic a note. I told him that if he was delayed I might have to leave. He knew I already had plans for later tonight that I couldn’t cancel.”
Saskia got as far as the living room before she dug in her heels. “Well, if you have other plans feel free to go. I’m going to stay here and wait for my mate.”
“Sass, don’t be an idiot. If you stay here alone, you really will wind up in Bellevue before the end of the night. I warned Nic about my plans, but I also told him that if I had to leave, I’d take you with me. He knows that, and when he sees the note he’ll know where to find us. If you want, you can call his cell phone and leave a message. But it’s getting close to five, and I really have somewhere I need to be.”
“I can’t interrupt your plans. You go ahead, and I’ll just—”
“You’ll just get your shoes and come with me,” Corinne insisted. “Tonight’s plans are of the ‘the more the merrier’ variety. Now, go on. Get your shoes and your purse. Let’s go.”
“Exactly what kind of plans did you have for tonight, Corinne?”
“I’m on Baby Watch.”
* * *
“Actually it’s more like BELLY WATCH. In capital letters, of course. And if this were a television station, there would be a news ticker scrolling across the bottom of the screen.”
For a woman who looked about as pregnant as it was possible to get, Missy Winters sounded awfully cheerful as she explained Corinne’s joke to Saskia forty minutes later.
“At this point, it’s like the official New York pastime to sit around and watch to see if I pop. Since I feel like a blimp, I can sort of understand the fascination.”
Corinne had hustled Saskia out of her apartment and marched her along the crowded uptown sidewalks to the Upper East Side, turning her down a quiet, tree-lined street to a pair of gorgeous old town houses in the eighteenth-century tradition. They had climbed the steps to the northern half of the pair, knocked on a beautiful set of carved doors, and been greeted by the wife of the senior-most werewolf in New York. The second of the two buildings, Saskia had learned, housed the famous Vircolac club and the chambers of the Council of Others.
“Don’t worry,” Missy had assured them as she waved her guests inside. “They’re not in session at the moment. The club’s generally pretty quiet this time of day.”
Empty or not, Saskia didn’t want to think about what might or might not be happening in the house next door, which Missy had mentioned was connected to this one by several doors, albeit well-secured ones. Instead, Saskia concentrated on her immediate surroundings, which consisted of a cozy sitting room furnished with a mix of surprisingly comfortable antiques and a few overstuffed modern pieces that blended well with the original moldings and high plastered ceilings of the historic home.
“Usually, I sit in the kitchen. It’s like my space,” Missy said from her perch on an old settee upholstered in burgundy velvet. “But the stools and hard chairs in there are just way too uncomfortable at the moment. I’m like Goldilocks this week. The kitchen chairs are too hard; the sofa you’re sitting on is too soft.” She made a face. “At the moment, this thing is working as my just right, but give me five minutes. I’m sure that will change.”
In spite of her grousing, the Silverback Luna glowed with happiness. Clearly, although she felt uncomfortable so close to her due date, she adored the baby she carried. Her palm rested over her swollen belly as she spoke, and every time the conversation turned to her pregnancy she patted it with obvious affection.
Saskia wondered what it would feel like to carry her own child in her womb. She felt a surprising rush of longing. Clearing her throat, she blamed it on hormones.
“So, are you having a boy or a girl?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t let them tell me.”
“The betting pool is currently favoring a boy,” Corinne said with a grin. “Last time I checked the odds were five-to-nine. Want in?”
Missy laughed. “Don’t get suckered. I’ll tell you right now it’s a boy. A soccer player. Nothing else explains this level of kicking.”
“Graham said she could be a future Rockette.” Corinne wriggled her eyebrows.
“That’s just him trying to be funny. It’s a boy. Besides, can you picture Graham with a daughter? He’d convert to Catholicism before her third birthday just so he could lock her in a convent the minute she discovered boys.”
Saskia couldn’t help smiling, especially when she considered her own mate’s reaction to a growing daughter. She bet she’d find herself attending mass pretty quickly herself.
“Anyway, Graham and I were sorry we couldn’t attend your party last weekend,” Missy said, focusing her attention on Saskia. With her ash-blonde hair, sweetly round face, and wide brown eyes, the human woman was as transparent as glass, and she clearly did regret their absence. “Graham will barely let me get out of bed at the moment, let alone let me leave the house. If he’d had his way, he would have checked me into the hospital the minute I started showing.”
“Don’t apologize,” Saskia dismissed, finding Missy as irresistible as Corinne had predicted. The woman just radiated warmth and kindness. “We completely understand. Your health is more important than parties.”
“Besides, if you’d gone into labor on the dance floor, it would have totally captured the spotlight,” Corinne joked. “You can’t do that to a sister, Miss. Total faux pas.”
Missy shuddered. “God, can you just picture it? What a nightmare.” She turned back to Saskia. “I really wanted to go, though. I was dying to meet you and your fiancé, so I’m just tickled that Corinne was able to convince you to come see me tonight. I just wish Nicolas were with you.”
Corinne rolled her eyes. “Don’t we all.”
“Uh-oh. Do I detect a story?”
Saskia shook her head. “A long one. Very long.”
“Don’t worry, Sassy. I’ll fill her in. You just lie back and think of England.”
The only thing Saskia could think about was Nicolas. He should have returned to their apartment hours ago. The sun had begun to set when she and Corinne arrived at Missy’s house. By now, it was full dark. What could have happened to keep her
mate out so long? Unless the confrontations with her father or his had taken an unexpected turn.
She shifted nervously in her seat while Corinne filled her friend in on the situation with the Tiguri and Nic’s and Saskia’s fathers. Tactfully the reporter left out any mention of Nicolas’s recent run-in with the Council of Others, since Missy’s husband happened to sit on said Council.
“Oh, my goodness, that’s horrible,” Missy breathed when Corinne finished the story with Nic’s departure from the apartment and the women’s decision to come for a visit. “You poor thing! No wonder you look like you’re a bundle of nerves. It must be driving you crazy that your fiancé hasn’t even had the courtesy to call and give you an update on what’s keeping him. If I were you, I’d be positively livid!”
“Careful, Miss Busybody,” Corinne cautioned. “As far as I can tell, these two have not needed any prodding to raise their tempers with each other. They need help keeping them cool.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just can’t help imagining how I’d feel if I were in your position, Sass. I’m a worrier by nature, so I wouldn’t be able to stand myself until I had heard from Graham. Of course he would be fine, just like I’m sure Nicolas is fine, but that wouldn’t stop me from worrying.”
Saskia cracked a smile. “I am a little tense.”
“Right. We need to get your mind off your problem and keep you occupied,” Missy decreed. “Corinne, it’s time for Scrabble. Go get the box from the den.”
Corinne groaned, but she was smiling as she pushed to her feet. “Just resign yourself, Sass. Missy doesn’t take no for an answer. Plus, she’s a teacher, so she thinks Scrabble is the answer to everything. She even has a Scrabble-based plan for lasting peace in the Middle East.”
“It would work, too,” Missy called after her friend, her voice full of laughter. “Just think of all the amazing new opportunities to use that stupid Q!”
And that was how Saskia—though since even Missy was now calling her Sass, she figured she might as well give up on her actual name—found herself playing Scrabble (her second game) when she heard the front door of Missy’s house open and the sound of masculine voices on the threshold. Instinctively she stood and moved toward the door, but it wasn’t her mate she saw in the front hall. It was Rafael De Santos, battered and bloody and carried carefully by two other men she knew she had never met before.
“Oh, my God! What happened?” Missy’s voice rang with shock as she waddled as fast as she could toward the men. “How badly is he hurt?”
“Bad enough,” one of the men said, and by focusing on his scent Saskia could match it to the traces she’d already picked up around the house. This was Graham Winters. “He’s lost a lot of blood. We’re going to need a Feline donor. I told Sam to ask around next door and start spreading the word if no one was immediately available. It would be a hell of a lot easier if the bastard were Lupine.”
“If he were Lupine, he would likely be dead,” the second man said, his rough, aristocratic face like a medieval knight wearing a veneer of civilization. “You can see the size of the claw marks. Whoever did this outweighed him by at least one or two hundred pounds.”
“Fucking tiger,” Graham bit out, making his wife gasp.
“Watch your mouth, wolf boy,” the Luna snapped.
Saskia held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t worry about it, Missy. He’s just upset, and I can understand why. He has every right to be.”
The Alpha’s head snapped in her direction, and she saw his eyes narrow. Oh, yes, Graham Winters recognized her, probably from the photos of her and Nic that had been all over the papers this weekend. Notoriety made everything so much more convenient.
“What the hell is she doing h—” Graham snarled half the question, then stopped himself. “No, you know what? I don’t want to know. Just keep her here. Misha and I need to get Rafe upstairs and make sure all the bleeding is stopped. After that’s done, I’ll come back down and then I want to talk to our guest.”
Saskia remained silent and stood in the hall while the werewolf and the vampire—Misha could be no one other than Dmitri Vidâme—carried their awkward burden up the stairs. She got a better look at the unconscious man as they maneuvered him past her, and her stomach clenched at the sight. The handsome werejaguar looked a mess, more blood than skin visible to the naked eye. Huge ragged slices cut across his chest and abdomen, shredding his clothing into ragged strips. She saw puncture wounds in his arms and shoulders, likely bite marks, and she thought she could see bone poking out through the raw, bloody wound on his right leg. Whoever had attacked Rafael De Santos had clearly intended to kill him, and this time he had almost succeeded.
She jerked when Missy laid a hand on her shoulder. She had nearly forgotten the other women were there.
“I apologize for my husband,” Missy murmured, her eyes soft and wide with concern. “He and Rafe are very close. I know it doesn’t excuse his behavior, but you were right in thinking this has upset him.”
Saskia shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I understand. I’m upset, too, just seeing it. But I want you to know, Nicolas is not responsible for that. He couldn’t be.”
* * *
She repeated the same thing half an hour later when Graham and Misha strode grimly into the sitting room.
“Your mate had officially worn out his welcome in this city, Ms. Arcos,” the werewolf growled, his lips drawn back to show the barest hint of fang. Saskia made no mistake he intended her to feel the threat. “My pack and I will be escorting him out. Tonight.”
“On a rail?” his wife shot back, planting her fists on her hips and glaring up at him. “What happened to gathering all the evidence against someone before we go throwing accusations in their direction? Do you have any proof that Nicolas Preda is the one who attacked Rafael?”
“What kind of proof do you want, woman?” Graham bellowed. “You saw him! You saw what was done to him! I say that’s your proof!”
“Oh, so he signed his work, did he?”
Dmitri Vidâme stepped forward, a hard, dark presence that seethed where Graham raged. The contrast did little to reassure Saskia.
“The injuries tell their own story, Melissa,” the vampire said quietly. Implacably. “They were undoubtedly inflicted by a Feline shifter, one considerably larger than Rafe. Since he possesses unusual size for a jaguar, that rules out nearly every other species we know of. The only possibilities are lion and tiger. You know as well as I do that there is no Leo pride within five hundred miles of this city. It had to have been Tiguri.”
Melissa crossed her arms over her chest and rested them on her stomach, not backing down an inch from the intimidating bloodsucker. “And Nicolas Preda is the only Tiguri shifter in the city, is he? That’s news to me.”
Graham snorted. “What, are you suggesting she did it? Impossible. At best, she’d equal Rafe in size, and he’s male. He’d still have the advantage in strength. If she had attacked him like that, she’d be looking just as bad, if not worse.”
“No, I’m not suggesting Sass attacked Rafe. I’m suggesting we don’t know who attacked Rafe. Did he say it was Nicolas?”
“He’s fucking unconscious! He can’t say anything.”
“Don’t you swear at me, Graham Winters!”
“Then don’t be an idiot, Melissa!”
“Please! Enough!” Saskia shouted, taking her life in her hands by stepping between the quarreling mates. “Enough,” she repeated at a more civilized volume when everyone turned to glare at her. “There’s no point in fighting. I’m perfectly aware that you believe my mate already attacked your friend once, Mr. Winters, but I can assure you he did not. Nor did he do it this time. He couldn’t have.”
“You’re wrong, Ms. Arcos,” Dmitri told her, his dark eyes hard and unreadable. “Graham was one of the few Council members who did not immediately assume your mate’s guilt after Friday’s incident. He said then that proof was required before stones could be cast, and I can assure you, he risked his reput
ation by taking that stance. So, you’ll understand if he finds this latest attack doubly troubling.”
“I’m troubled by it, too, Mr. Vidâme, believe me. As is my mate. No one has wanted to find out who was behind the first attack on Mr. De Santos more than Nicolas and I. We even retained a private investigator to help us locate the culprit. Believe me when I tell you, Nicolas is not a killer.”
Graham rolled his eyes. “Of course he’s a killer, sweetheart. He’s a predator. We all are. Killing comes naturally to us.”
Saskia inclined her head tightly and struggled to hold back a scream. She needed to make these people understand that Nicolas was not guilty of these crimes, and throwing a fit would not help her cause.
“A fair point,” she acknowledged. “Let me rephrase myself. Nicolas may have the capacity to kill, but he does not have the capacity to ambush another man and attempt to kill him out of spite or malice.”
“You’re sure of that.”
“Perfectly.” She lifted her chin and met the Lupine’s stare. “I know my mate, Mr. Winters, and he is not the man you’re looking for.”
Graham stared at her. After a moment, he growled and raked an impatient hand over his hair. “This is ridiculous. Do you expect us to just take your word for it? Of course you don’t want to believe your mate would do something like this, but as far as I know, there are only five Tiguri in the city. You and your mother aren’t strong enough to have taken Rafe down, and you father and Preda’s father are too old. Your mate is the only one who could have done this.”
“Are you a hundred percent sure of that?” Corinne asked. When four sets of eyes turned her way, she clarified. “Are you a hundred percent sure that Saskia, her parents, Nic, and Mr. Preda are the only five Tiguri in the city?”
“Of course we are,” Dmitri dismissed her. “They are the only Tiguri to have settled in the city in centuries.”
“Okay.” Corinne nodded and pursed her lips. “And I suppose it’s impossible that a Tiguri could come visit the city? Or even stay here and neglect to mention that to the really suspicious and hostile locals? I suppose there’s no way that could ever happen?”
On the Prowl Page 17
