Claiming Their Mate

by Vella Day

  “That a girl.”

  He piled a heaping mound of eggs on two plates, leaving about a third in the pan. Then he took the bacon out of the microwave and pulled four slices of bread out of the toaster. He brought the plates to the table, where he’d already placed jam and butter.

  “Were you a short order cook or something?”

  “No, darlin’, not me. I just have years of practice. Come on, let’s eat.”

  Years of practice? He couldn’t be much older than she was.

  She pulled out a chair, sat, and dug in. Once more she enjoyed sharing a meal with him. As long as she didn’t think about poor Jeffrey, or how she’d almost been violated, she would do just fine. “Oh, shit.”

  “What?”

  “How am I going to explain this black eye and bruised cheek to my coworkers and my customers?”

  “Can’t you put some makeup on it or something?”

  He had no idea the limits of cosmetics. “I don’t have anything heavy enough.”

  “There’s always the old standby. You walked into a door.” He shrugged. “Or tell them that two hot guys came over last night and, while you were having hot, sweaty sex, one of them elbowed you in the face.”

  She smiled and palmed her cheek to rub it. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “Well, you can tell them you’d rather not talk about it and move on as if nothing happened.”

  “I may try that.” She finished her meal and felt a lot better. As she was clearing her plate, Kurt barged into the kitchen, and her hand raced to her chest. “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “Sorry.”

  Drake’s cheer seemed to evaporate. He placed his plate in the sink and walked over to his partner. “What did the general say?”

  “I’m off the case.”

  Her heart spun. Did that mean two other men would be her bodyguards? She liked these two and felt comfortable around them. She embraced Drake’s ability to make her laugh.

  “Who’s going to be in charge, then?” she asked.

  “Clay and Dirk.”

  She remembered them from the party. They seemed nice enough.

  Drake nodded. “What’s your next move?”

  Kurt shrugged. “Well, I’m not sitting with my thumb up my ass, waiting for Mendez to strike down someone else.”

  She appreciated his attitude. “So you’re investigating behind your boss’s back?”

  “Fucking A. It’s my brother he murdered. I want that son-of-a-bitch Mendez as much as you want him.”

  She liked that he had a personal stake in this case, and the way he included her feelings. Too bad the circumstances sucked.

  “Come have some breakfast.”

  She hoped once Kurt found out she wanted to show the house, he wouldn’t forbid her from doing her job.

  #

  Chelsea found it a little strange having Drake with her when she brought clients through the homes, but at least she wasn’t looking over her shoulder thinking some evil werewolf would be there, ready to take her down. Drake suggested she explain to her clients he was in training. Given his combat boots, worn jeans and pullover sweater, which he claimed was his dress attire, she wasn’t sure many of the potential buyers would believe her.

  On a positive note, Drake made insightful comments about the quality of the home and what potential upgrades could be made. When she’d brought the Campbells back to the house, she found it hard not to walk past the area where Jeffrey had been slain and remember what he looked like lying there.

  When they asked to see the yard, Drake offered to take them around. For that, she’d be forever indebted to him. The Campbells seemed interested, but they wanted to view a few more homes before making a decision. By the time she and Drake returned to her house, it was close to five.

  He placed a hand on her arm. “Mind if I check out the place first?”

  She appreciated his conscientiousness. “Be my guest.” She handed him the key.

  While he was inside, she glanced around the neighborhood. Fortunately, nothing looked out of place, but would she notice a wolf hiding behind a bush if he was there? Goose bumps raced up her spine.

  He stepped out on the porch. “You’re good.”

  Having Drake around made her more comfortable. She snapped her fingers. “We should have gone to the grocery store.” Kurt didn’t want them going out to a restaurant.

  “I can call Kurt. He can pick up something on the way here. What do you want?”

  “Could he pick up stuff to make spaghetti and meatballs? And maybe some veggies, too?” Spaghetti was a meal that didn’t require much effort to prepare.

  He grinned. “You got it, darlin’.”

  His endearment didn’t bother her anymore. Her fondness for him grew the more time she spent with him. “Mind if I take a little nap before dinner? This poison stuff is kicking my ass.”

  He chuckled. “Go for it.”

  As soon as she reached her room, she kicked off her shoes and suit and pulled on lightweight sweats and a heavy T-shirt. When she crawled into bed, she groaned at the luxury of the cool sheets and warm blanket.

  “Chelsea?”

  She jerked awake. Drake stood over her. The T-shirt molded to his body and showed off his many muscles. Although he’d shaved this morning before the showing, his stubble had grown back, giving him that rugged look she found so appealing.

  “I guess I fell asleep.” She rubbed her eyes.

  “Bed looks comfortable.”

  You want to join me?

  The rich smell of spaghetti sauce reached her and pulled her from her fantasy. “Dinner’s ready?” She twisted to pull the comforter back, and her arm twinged.

  “Yes.”

  When he turned and left, her stomach swirled. Oh boy. If they didn’t catch Mendez soon, she might jump into bed with a werewolf. Before she reached the door, her cell vibrated on her nightstand, and she picked it up. A full-blown smile crossed her face for the first time in days.

  “Hey, girlfriend.”

  “Oh, my God. Why didn’t you call me?” Liz sounded just like Chelsea had when she’d found out about the attempt on Liz’s life.

  “I’m still in a fog.”

  “They said you were attacked and shot—that he tried—he didn’t—”

  “No. He didn’t. Kurt and Drake arrived in time to scare him off.”

  “I need the deets. Now!”

  She loved Liz. The girl cut to the chase. “Drake just made us dinner and it’s ready. Can I call you back afterwards?”

  “Sure.” There was a long pause. “So, how do you like them?”

  “They seem like excellent bodyguards.”

  “You know I didn’t mean that way.”

  Right now she wasn’t ready to talk about having sex with them. “I gotta go.”

  Liz laughed. “You better call me.”

  “I will.”

  She disconnected and ducked into the bathroom to make sure her hair wasn’t all tangled. Naturally, it was. She ran a brush through her long strands to smooth them out, and then decided she looked like a blue whale in her casual gear. She changed into a black lace push up bra and a V-neck pullover that conformed to her body.

  You so want to impress them.

  “Do not.”

  “Chelsea, you coming?” This time it was Kurt who called.

  “Be right there.”

  Feeling refreshed, she headed out for another night of waiting. The table was set and they had the food ready. A girl could get used to this service. Kurt had even clicked off the overhead lights and lit candles. The glow filled the room with warmth.

  Her mouth opened before her brain registered. “Are you trying to seduce me?” Shut up, Chelsea.

  Drake pulled out her chair. “Is it working?”

  “No, but the thought is nice.” Liar, liar.

  “Drake!” Kurt shot him a look she couldn’t quite decipher, but it appeared to be one of frustration.

  Drake ignored him. “Let’s eat before it
gets cold.”

  Her mom always said that. She probably should call her, though relaying what happened would be hard even if she left out the werewolf part.

  Both men dug in and she did, too. “This is amazing.”

  Drake grinned. “It’s my mother’s recipe.”

  She hadn’t thought about them having parents, which of course, was stupid. “Is your mom a werewolf, too?”

  “My mom is human, and my dad naturally is a werewolf, but there are a lot of women who have a werewolf father. Don’t worry, the women look human and have no werewolf traits.”

  “So, when the moon is full, do you automatically shift or anything?”

  “No. Just so you know, the moon does not rule our actions, though I have to say a lot of strange shit goes on when it’s full.”

  She didn’t want to know too much about them for fear she’d get more attached.

  Once they finished, Kurt jumped up and so did she. “I’ll clean up since Drake cooked,” she said. After all, it was her house and she knew where things went.

  She brought the dishes in and Kurt stacked them in the sink. Using her scrubber, he cleaned each dish before placing it in the dishwasher. After the tenth dish, her curiosity bested her.

  “Why do you scrub the dishes before you put them in the dishwasher?” A rinse, she understood.

  He raised a brow. “I don’t want the water to get nasty when it sanitizes the dishes.”

  At a loss how to respond, so she let it go. After all the dishes were stacked in the dishwasher, he meticulously cleaned the pans. Maybe she was a slob, because when she washed them, she only ran the soapy sponge around the surface and called it a day. Kurt scrubbed every crevice, as if the pot was going to be used in a surgical procedure.

  “It’s probably clean enough.”

  He tossed her a less-than-friendly glare and continued to clean the pot. Perhaps he used cleaning as a way to exorcise his demons. She went back into the living room.

  “He’s obsessive,” Drake said, as if he knew what had gone on in the kitchen.

  “Ah, yeah. He always like that?”

  “Yup, but be happy. His attention to detail might save your life sometime.”

  She hoped her life didn’t need saving any more, but she got his point.

  Drake waved a box. “You up for some dominoes?”

  “I haven’t played since I was a kid.”

  “Let’s sit at the table and I’ll show you how a master plays.”

  While he was full of himself, his carefree ways would take her mind off her problems.

  #

  By the time the three of them finished playing, Chelsea couldn’t keep her eyes open. Kurt spent five minutes per play analyzing each move, and it was now close to midnight. At times, she wanted to strangle him, but Drake mocked him enough to make it fun. In the end, Kurt won, and he actually smiled at his success.

  She stood. “Time for bed.”

  She thought about asking Kurt to shift, to know for sure he was a werewolf, but decided perhaps he’d feel self-conscious changing in front of a human.

  “Night, Chelsea,” the men said in unison.

  After she did her nightly window check, she washed and crawled into bed. She had no sooner closed her eyes before she entered an erotic dream. In it, she was tied up and gagged while both of the men circled her. Drake sucked on her tits while Kurt wielded a flogger. His stern countenance drove fear into her, yet at the same time, her pussy throbbed with need. Making love with Kurt would be intense, whereas being with Drake would be deliciously wonderful.

  With each strike of the flogger, her ass grew hotter and her pussy wetter. Then he drove his cock into her ass and she climaxed violently—happier than she’d ever been in her life. She screamed, and Drake was so overcome, he stumbled backward and knocked over the nightstand.

  The crash totally ruined the dream and she roused. The bedspread was suddenly ripped off her and someone tugged on her arm.

  “Get up!”

  Chapter Four

  Chelsea’s brain fogged. She assumed Drake had told her to get up because he’d hit the table, tumbled on his ass, and the legs had splintered into pieces.

  Fingers gripped her arm tighter. Her eyes flew open. A huge hulk of a man had her in his grasp.

  “Put me down!” Her pulse raced, and her urge to fight kicked in.

  Before she could land a punch, he set her down and got in her face. “It’s me. Kurt. They’re here. Come with me.”

  Here? The bedroom door stood ajar, and she nearly crumpled when she spotted three wolves tumbling, snarling, and attacking each other.

  “Grab your shoes.” Kurt rushed to her window, unlocked and opened it, and punched out the screen.

  Holy shit. Wolves meant Mendez. They’d found her. Events were moving too fast for everything to register. Kurt rushed back, and closed and locked her door. Finally, she understood his logic. Wolves couldn’t open doors. She shoved her feet into her shoes and dashed to the window. In one quick move, he lifted her, flipped her over, and shoved her feet through the window. After a small drop, she landed on the ground. Her heart fluttered so fast, she almost hyperventilated. The paralyzing fear she thought she’d overcome returned with a vengeance.

  She jerked around to make sure Mendez wasn’t standing there waiting for her. Her pits dampened, and she had to swallow to catch her breath. Kurt exited the window, took her hand, and held a finger to her lips.

  Got it. No talking. This time, she had no desire to go against his wishes. He tugged hard to make sure she followed. Images of Drake battling those wolves made her stomach churn. The two-to-one ratio spiked fear straight to her heart. If he died defending her, she’d break.

  When they reached the front of the house, he helped her into his car. She slid down in the seat, hoping Mendez wouldn’t spot her.

  Kurt started the engine and peeled out. It wasn’t until he was on the main road that she sat up. “You left Drake.”

  “He’ll be fine.”

  That was a lie. “He’s fighting two wolves.”

  “Drake’s good.”

  “Maybe they’re good, too. Was one of them Mendez?”

  “No.”

  That didn’t settle well. Even if Drake kicked their butts, Mendez wouldn’t be caught. “Where are we going?”

  “Someplace we should have gone in the first place.” His terse tone implied that he blamed her for the attack.

  She settled back in her seat, but her stomach wouldn’t stop churning. “Maybe you should drop me off at an all-night diner or something and go back and help Drake.”

  He glanced over at her. While it was pitch-black outside, there was enough light from the dash to see his knuckles turn white. He pulled out his phone and pressed a button.

  “Call Dirk Tilton.”

  The phone said it would and a dial tone sounded. He placed it close to his ear, so she couldn’t hear the man’s response.

  “Mendez’s men found us. Drake needs help. Yes.” He disconnected a few seconds later.

  She waited for him to tell her what was going on, but he didn’t offer any explanation. What was wrong with that man? He seemed to want her kept out of the loop. She was a big girl and could handle whatever occurred. Okay, maybe not yet. Right now, she had to work hard not to get sick in his car.

  Since he seemed to need time to think, she’d let him battle his demons alone. He drove quickly, as if he worried Mendez might be following them. Was that the ploy? Distract Kurt and Drake and take her out? In this case, it hadn’t worked out very well for him. So there, Mendez.

  She glanced into the side mirror but didn’t spot any cars following them.

  “Don’t worry,” Kurt said. “He’s not coming after us.”

  How did he do that? Kurt’s eyes never left the road. He couldn’t have seen her check out who might be behind them. “It makes sense he’d try.”

  “I agree.”

  The man did not believe in lying to her, which was a good thing.


  He stayed on I-75 going south for close to an hour before turning off on some road that didn’t even have a gas station on the corner. The lack of lights almost comforted her. She’d be able to see if anyone followed. She rolled the window down partway and smelled salt air. They must be heading toward the Gulf.

  His cell rang and her body tensed. She prayed it wasn’t Dirk telling him that when he reached her house, he’d found Drake’s throat ripped out.

  “Yes, we are.” Kurt glanced over at her. “She’s okay. A little scared, is all.”

  Scared? Okay, she might have whimpered when he first burst into her bedroom, but she’d been a trouper.

  He disconnected. “Drake is fine. One of Couch’s men is dead. The other managed to escape.”

  The man acted like he’d be charged for each word of information he doled out. “What does that mean?” Animals didn’t get into a fight and come away unscathed. She’d heard the fierce growls.

  “You’ll be safe for now.” Kurt turned down a narrow alley and parked. “Let’s get settled in. Drake will be here shortly.”

  Thank God.

  There weren’t any street or porch lights to indicate what the place looked like. “Where are we?”

  “Orangeburg. Follow me.”

  He picked up her suitcase and his duffle, and she did as he suggested. If she didn’t, she feared she might trip. He unlocked the door. As soon as they stepped inside, the door behind them locked and the lights came on.

  “Wow.” If this was a safe house, she wanted to stay hidden. “Who owns this place?”

  “We do.”

  The living room had two-story floor-to-ceiling windows that might overlook the Gulf, but she couldn’t tell. “Is the Gulf out there?”

  He nodded. “I’ll show you to your room.”

  Not answering questions tonight, I can see.

  The place was huge. A stone fireplace was at one end of the living room and was surrounded with soft pastel furniture. Not the brown leather furniture and white walls she’d expected two men to own. This place looked professionally decorated. If it hadn’t been the middle of the night, she would have asked for a tour.

  For now, she settled on following him. Given the large size, she hoped they’d be sleeping close by. He pushed open a door and motioned for her to enter. As soon as she did, the light came on. It wasn’t a harsh overhead, but a soft sconce light. A king-size bed covered the center of the room and off to the sides sat a two-seater sofa, two chairs, and a coffee table. Had there been a kitchen, it would have made a great efficiency apartment.