“It’s not nice to play with your food, right?” I quipped in a feeble attempt at humor.
“No.” Abraham’s response was so deadpan, I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “It isn’t.”
Chapter Fourteen
I had several different truths running through my brain and I didn’t like any of them.
First and foremost…there were NHs out there, and probably some trusted humans, who were selling us out. I—or rather Justin and I—had already arrived at the conclusion with Saul, but it was bigger than just one or two individuals.
That big, ugly, raw thing sat in my gut as I drove to Damon’s, taking with me nothing but the weapons I figured I’d need for the next day or so. It was clear I still had gear there waiting for me, so why worry about packing?
Although darkness had fallen, the space around my parking spot was brightly lit and I hadn’t even climbed out of my car when I felt him. I smiled, despite the grim truths chewing at me. I’d have an escort on my way in—no. Two of them.
I used my hip to bump the door shut, already scanning the area.
I still didn’t see him until he’d practically pounced on me.
The young man in front of me was ridiculously beautiful. Pale blonde hair in an uneven cut framed his face. It was uneven because he was too lazy to have somebody who knew how to handle scissors deal with it and although he was certainly vain enough, he was so damn pretty, nobody was likely to care if the strands were rather lopsided. It suited him, in a weird sort of way. You really didn’t expect to see a tiger sitting still for a haircut anyway.
Doyle’s blue eyes were vivid and bright—happy, even as he caught me around the waist and swung me around. Over the past few months, some of the darkness had faded from him. Some, not all. The natural exuberance that had emerged recently made me wonder who he would have been if tragedy hadn’t punched him in the face so early on.
“You’ve been too busy,” he said in lieu of greeting. “I haven’t been able to kick your ass in a week. I’ve had to fight with Scott.”
I snorted. “You can’t kick my ass…yet. And you’re just irritated because Scott’s boring now.”
“True,” he said, shrugging. If they went muscle to muscle, Scott might be able to beat Doyle, but as far as skill went, Doyle had outreached the older shifter and they’d been training with weapons. Before he’d been changed, Scott had been a martial arts master and had some skill with a few weapons. Doyle had already eclipsed him and then some.
I bumped my fist against his shoulder. “If we can, we’ll spar before I leave for work.”
The brilliant grin that lit his face fired a response within me and because of that, I was smiling when I shifted to face the other man striding toward me. He didn’t rush with the pent-up energy that still drove Doyle.
He moved with the lazy, easy grace of a predator who seemed to know he could make the world wait for him. And damned if he wasn’t right. I’d sure as hell wait.
Why not?
The view was worth it.
My heart was racing by the time Damon joined me near my car.
When he reached out to take the bag from me, I didn’t argue.
When he dipped his head to brush his lips against mine, I sighed in pleasure.
And when I heard somebody address him, I gritted my teeth and kept the insults trapped inside.
He didn’t respond. Not even to tense.
Since he managed to pull it off, I figured I could do the same. Slowly, I reached up and placed my hand on his cheek, angling my head to the side as I opened my mouth.
She said his name a second time, but he continued to ignore her. He’d make the world wait for him, and she was no exception.
I heard a low growl of a voice—Doyle. He wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, a fact I well knew.
When Damon curved his arm around my waist and tugged me in closer, I didn’t give in to my normal urge. That would have been to break the kiss and pull away. We were in public, for crying out loud—at the Lair of all places and now I was going to have to walk through that place with his scent practically clinging to me.
Instead, I opened my mouth deeper and when he stroked his tongue along the curve of my lower lip, I bit him.
A low rumble of a purr emanated out of him and it made me shiver.
That was when the kiss ended.
He pulled away and I sighed in wistful regret.
He cupped my cheek and rubbed his thumb over the curve of my lower lip. “I missed you.”
“Missed you, too.” I pressed my hand to his. “Been busy…this case…”
I grimaced.
He nodded and stepped aside. “We’ll go in. You can sit down, relax. You probably need a night off.”
Yeah. I probably did. But I wouldn’t take it. “No time.”
There was another reason I’d headed over here and she’d just conveniently placed herself in my way. Shanelle Maguire looked right through me as she focused her lovely, dark eyes on Damon.
That was fine.
I didn’t plan on doing this out here anyway.
I slid my hand down and linked it with his. As his fingers folded over mine, Shanelle’s gaze flicked downward.
“Did you need something, Maguire?” Damon asked, his voice blunt.
“Yes…Alpha.” She gave him a look that was the picture of the perfect soldier. Composed, unreadable while her voice was modulated with just the right amount of respect.
And yet…
It was there.
Some hint of fury or disgust—whether it was a glint in her eyes or an undertone in her voice or just something I caught coming off her, I couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, she hid it well, but I knew as well as I knew my own name, she had about as much use for me as she’d have for a used handkerchief.
She glanced around, shifting from one foot to the other. “May we discuss this…elsewhere?”
Cats came and went and more than a few shot us curious glances.
Damon opened his mouth and I could already see the refusal on his lips. I tightened my hand and tugged.
His muscles tensed and he blew out a breath as he dipped his head, turning his body toward mine to block her view. It was just the illusion of privacy and we all knew it.
“I’ve got questions I need to ask about Georgia,” I said quietly.
He stroked his thumb along the back of my hand. “Can they wait?”
“Not forever,” I replied, lifting a brow at him.
“Forty-five minutes.”
I nodded.
He squeezed my hand and we started to walk. “You may come to my quarters in forty-five minutes, Shanelle. Doyle will escort you.”
I heard her sharp intake of air.
Damon did as well and he stopped looked back at her. “Is that a problem?”
“No, Alpha.” She gave him that same perfect smile.
I saw the flash in her eyes, though. One that hinted at fury.
He’d gotten to her with that one. He’d gotten to her bad.
We were still in the hall leading to his quarters when I realized why he’d wanted time.
I could smell it from here and my belly started to rumble.
“Oh, man.” I picked up the pace and Damon laughed.
“You’d better not eat it all,” he said.
“That’s lasagna. You’re always fussing about how real food is meat. Lasagna is pasta.”
I shoved through the door and then came up short, my heart stuttering to a halt as well.
Candlelight turned the room golden. The long sturdy table that too often ended up being the focus of hard talks and even harder decisions was now bedecked with a white tablecloth—linen, I thought, although my knowledge of the finer things was sorely lacking. Candles graced almost every flat surface, their flickering glow turning the room into a dance of shadow and soft light.
Silver-covered serving dishes awaited us and flutes that might be real crystal reflected back the light.
“Wow.�
�� My throat clogged up. “What’s the occasion?”
“You.” Damon came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, his lips brushing over my cheek.
My bones melted. Just melted, right there. If he’d been forced to catch me to keep me from falling to the floor at his feet, I wouldn’t have been surprised. His stubbled cheek rubbed against mine as my heart started to beat once more, a hard, heavy rhythm.
I covered the hands at my waist with my own.
“You don’t by chance know what happened to Damon, do you?” I asked, my throat tight. “Big guy, looks a lot like to you.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry. That son-of-a-bitch is still around here somewhere.”
“Good.” A ragged breath escaped me.
“Come on. Let’s eat. I was going to draw this out, but…”
I grimaced. “Sorry.”
He moved out from behind me and dropped a hard, fast kiss on my mouth. “Don’t be. You’ve got a job to do and you’re doing it.”
“Never let it be said that you don’t know how to romance a girl, Damon.” I thought I might have to waddle away from the table and wasn’t that a sexy image? When he went to offer me more tiramisu, I pushed his hands away. “No, no, no…I’m going to pop if I eat any more.”
He caught me around the waist and pulled me onto his lap.
Something I hadn’t noticed until he led me to the table—as large as it was, the two settings had been placed side by side, only a few inches away. And now I was literally on top of him.
It wasn’t a bad place to be. Sighing, I curled my legs more comfortably around him, bracing the soles of my boots on the rungs of the chair while he cupped my hips.
“You were supposed to be dessert,” he said.
“You are not putting me on that table and eating anything off me.” I wrinkled my nose. “Ain’t happening, pal.”
He laughed softly. “I had something else in mind. But for now…” He reached for something behind me. “Here.”
I looked down and found him holding a simple wooden box.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a present. Well, sort of. More like a question, because if you say yes, I’m the one who gets the gift.”
Something about the way he phrased that made me nervous.
Really nervous.
Slowly, I flipped the top of it up.
Confused, I stared at the small bit of a thing inside. It looked like a computer chip more than anything else, barely the size of my thumbnail. “What’s this?”
I jolted when the thing spoke back: “Please identify yourself and speak slowly for voice print identification.”
“Ahhh…”
Damon just stared at me.
Frowning, I said, “Kit Colbana.”
“Verified. You now have open access to all areas of…”
As the voice droned on, my ears started to roar. Carefully, I closed the box. “So what’s this?” I asked quietly as my blood thundered in my ears and my hands went slick with sweat.
“I want you to move in. To live here.” Once more, his hands went to my hips, kneading the skin there in that absent, restless ways he had. “If you’re not sure, if you want to think about it, that’s fine. If you’re not ready—”
I leaned in and kissed him.
I’d always been one to go with my gut.
Yes, I’d take time.
Yes, I’d think about it.
But just then, the only thing I wanted to do was kiss him.
The knock came forty-five minutes after he’d told her to come to his quarters. Forty-five minutes, exactly. If it had been forty-seven, she probably would have been told to come back later.
As it was, I was fumbling my shirt back into place and Damon slumped at the table with a look of sleepy hunger on his face that made me want to bite him.
He wanted me to move in.
“I’ll…” I moved away from him before I jumped on him again. “I’ll think about it.”
He nodded as though that was exactly what he’d expected.
“Come on in, Doyle,” he called out.
I glared at him. My hair was still probably standing up—a quick glance in the mirror across the room verified that and my face was still flushed.
Damon flashed me a grin. He’d done it on purpose.
Shanelle came into the room and her nostrils flared. Her gaze landed on me, then him. “Should I come back?” she asked, each word icily polite.
“Nope.” Damon reached for the glass of wine left over from dinner. Over the rim, he eyed her. “What did you want, Maguire?”
Doyle sauntered deeper into the room and wagged his brows at me. I flipped him off. His grin widened. While he flopped down on the couch, I returned to the table for my own wine. I’d need about fifty glasses before it had any effect, but at least it would help how dry my throat had gotten.
“Scott has me on sentry duty.”
When I reached for my wine, Damon reached for me, skimming a hand up my back. I heard the silent message. Stay. Whether it was a command or a request, I didn’t know, but I knew what he was doing. I’d wanted to make sure Shanelle knew loud and clear that Damon wasn’t up for the claiming. He was spelling it out in the clearest way he knew how—by making sure our dual claims for the other was imprinted on our skin.
“I’m aware.” Damon angled his head to the side. “He asked where to put you and I told him that was a position where you’d done well in the past.”
Her mouth opened, then closed. “I did well in that position fifteen years ago. I’m not a sentry anymore. I was one of the highest ranked enforcers—”
She snapped her mouth shut when Damon rose from his chair.
“You were,” he said, his voice brutal and cold. “And then you left. You’ve been gone a long time, Maguire. Plenty of others stuck it out and plenty of stronger ones stood between the weaker ones and the monsters. You weren’t one of them. You want to be worthy of being one of my lieutenants? Then you start from the ground up.”
Her entire body went rigid, all but trembling in her fury.
“Is that all?” Damon sat on the couch, settling back in that familiar, slumped, casual sprawl, but his eyes were hard.
“Yes, Alpha. I’ll be certain to prove myself.” She went to turn.
I caught Damon’s gaze.
He rolled his eyes.
“Hold up, Maguire.” He rose as she turned back to us. I could see a muscle pulsing in his jaw. He didn’t like this. At all.
I’d told him earlier I’d have to talk to her without him there, because she wouldn’t take her focus off him and it made it impossible for me to dissemble the truth if she wasn’t responding to me.
“Kit has questions about your kidnapping,” he said finally, folding his arms over his chest.
Her gaze slid to me. “Then she can read the report that was filed with the Assembly. It gives all the pertinent data, although I fail to see why she cares.”
“She cares because I’ve hired her to get to the bottom of what’s going on.” Damon rocked forward slightly—there was the impression of a giant cat, preparing to pounce. “She’s got questions. You’ll answer them.”
“Is that an order?” Her eyes rolled to gold and I caught sight of her animal. Wildcat. Small, capable. Deadly.
“It is.”
She dipped her head. “Very well.”
Damon glanced at Doyle and jerked his head. They strode to the door and Shanelle’s gaze tracked them. It wasn’t my imagination that I saw the faint smile forming in her eyes.
It faded when Damon paused at the door.
“Shanelle.”
It was the first time he’d used her name and her eyes widened fractionally.
“We worked together a fair amount of time,” he said and the words were easy, almost companionable. But menace leaked from him, choking the air. “You know what I do to people who piss me off—what I do to people who harm what’s mine. I suggest you keep that in mind.”
As h
e disappeared through the door, a muscle pulsed in Shanelle’s cheek.
I smiled at her. “Won’t this be fun?”
She flicked a look at me and then moved to the chair nearest the fire—the one farthest from me. Worked for me.
“Get this done, please,” she said, her tone snide.
“How did they take you down?”
She frowned.
“When they found you—Atlanta, right? Damon said you were last seen in Atlanta. So how did they take you down? You’re no low-level wolf. One or two people aren’t going to be able to manage it.”
She inclined her head.
“No.” Her mouth went tight then and she looked away. “But I never saw who did it. I don’t even know what happened. There was a pain…” She reached up with her left hand, going over her shoulder to touch some point on her upper back. “Here. Then darkness. I woke up in the place where you found me.”
“Was it Night?”
She lifted a brow, giving me an appraising look. Then she shook her head. “No. I’ve been drugged with Night before.”
It was my turn to focus an appraising look on her. Just what had led to that occurrence, I wondered? But I wasn’t here to chit-chat with Damon’s ex. “Any idea what it was?”
“No.” Shanelle wrinkled her nose. “I recognize some of the ingredients, because they shot me up with it several times. I smelled belladonna and foxglove—or at least it smelled like belladonna and foxglove, only more potent.”
Her gaze slid to my neck—for the quickest fraction. The tattoos twining up my neck started to burn, almost as if in reaction.
“The chemical signature was unique.” She pursed her lips. “It’s not wholly natural—the belladonna and foxglove were part of the drug, but there were other things in it as well. I’d recognize it if I smelled it again. It took roughly twenty-four hours for it to clear from my system. I was due for another injection not long after you arrived. Had you come earlier, I might have been unable to shift without impetus.”
“What sort of impetus?”
“What do you think?” The words were scathing. “They used pain—torture. But adrenaline is one of the key factors behind the change. If I was angry enough, scared enough, I would have been able to shift, but reactions would still be slower.”
Edged Blade Page 19
