The Vampire's Alpha Mate: A BBW Tiger-Shifter Romance (Arcane Affairs Agency)

by Amethyst Peters

  I parked my truck, hopped out, and strode to his cabin. Carefully testing the door, I found it open and walked in. We didn't have too much crime around here, and the folks that lived close by were pretty secure enough about the low statistic to leave their doors open.

  Not me, though. I'd seen many things in my life, and the one that had always gotten me was the victim who as much as invited in an attacker by leaving their home unguarded, unsecured, and wide open.

  I stood there for a moment, surveying the little place, noting how neat it was, wondering when the last time he’d been here, and berating myself for even standing inside at all.

  Now that I am, though, I might as well look around.

  There was a note in the kitchen, on his counter. It was upside down as if someone had turned it over. When I got closer to it, I realized why. There was a big kiss mark on the back of it. I shuddered.

  Slade had loved being a playboy when he first got here. Me? I didn't need to have a woman around. Love them and leave them. That was my philosophy. Anything else complicated things. Made people get feelings and feelings made problems. And problems weren’t at all necessary for a man who just wanted to disappear for a while in his cabin in the woods.

  Besides, a lot of the women I’d known were unfaithful or just too clingy for their own good—or mine. I was glad for Slade that he’d found Odra and had stopped seeing all the other women when he’d gotten serious with her.

  It was no coincidence I’d chosen to move out this far. There weren't that many women here, a few of the ones that were here, knew all about vampires. They’d learned enough about me to know that I wasn't down with games, tricks, or more than one night stands.

  Making certain that I didn't disturb anything, but realizing it didn't really matter since the only ones interested in this case were the ones at the Arcane Affairs Agency, and they likely had already swept the place for clues, I turned the note over and read it.

  “Remember, you bring your handsome self, and I'll bring all the rest.” A girl’s handwriting.

  I turned it over. On closer inspection, there were wood chippings on the back of the note where the sticky section was. Maybe she had stuck the note on his front porch or his wood door to greet him before he’d come home, at some point in their relationship, and he had held onto it. Had it right there on his counter to look at any time he wanted.

  That note didn't sound at all like she was planning on killing him. The way he’d turned it over so that he could see her kiss mark after he’d probably read it and re-read it, said to me that he wasn't planning on murdering her either.

  I just had a feeling about this one, that it wasn't at all what it looked like. Was my feeling enough for me to put aside the things that I needed to do for the length of time that it would take for me to piece together what happened to Odra and Slade?

  I shook my head and frowned when I heard footsteps around front. They were light, hesitant, as if someone not very good at it, was prowling about. Who the heck was here?

  In my experience, murderers often skulked about the scene of the crime. That crime scene would have been Odra’s cabin. But they also sometimes visited the victims’ residences to gloat. Suddenly, I was not only livid, but I was impressed at the stupidity of the individual.

  Silently, on the balls of my feet, I edged to the window, stood to the side, and peered out. I didn't see anyone. Reaching for the Glock I used to carry, I grimaced. I no longer carried a weapon and didn't have it on me.

  Slade had a bunch of wicked-looking knives hanging on a rack, but I didn't need those either.

  A fine tremor started below my surface. I could feel the old power inside me chomping at the bit. I inhaled, to get a whiff of the perp, disturbed that I mostly smelled a floral bouquet with an undertone of jasmine. I paused the calling up of my power. What the heck was a woman doing here—and a shifter at that?

  When I worked for the agency, my partner and I had been ambushed a few times by a girlfriend trying to defend her boyfriend, or a wife wanting to give her husband a head-start. I wouldn’t let my guard down around this intruder on Slade’s land, but I wasn’t going to give her an opportunity to blindside me, either.

  I went to the door and waited. There it was again, but this time I could make out that it was a very light knock. I glanced out the peep-hole and saw nothing. Whoever she was, she was either very short or had decided to walk away. That last one was her best bet.

  Then I heard scratching at the back door. I realized she’d walked around the house and was now probably trying to look in. She was a persistent woman, I’d give her that.

  I threw the door open and positioned myself to utilize my preternatural speed. But the moment I did, I saw that one of my predictions was correct.

  It was a really tiny woman with the kind of thickness of figure that I liked. She had shoulder length brown hair and wore one of those fancy suits that people liked to put on when they led board meetings.

  “It seems awful fast for a real estate agent to be poking around. You make a wrong turn?” I asked.

  She looked around, her eyes widening, and her breathing picking up. I’d startled her.

  When she saw me, her mouth dropped wide open and she quickly closed it. “No, sir. Terribly sorry if I caught you in an afternoon nap. It's just, I've come a long way, and I've really been looking forward to meeting you.”

  I glanced at her, skeptically. She wasn't any damned real estate agent. “I never thought the agency would stoop this low—sending a woman but not just any woman—a shifter. I absolutely don’t want to work with a shifter. Do you hear me? Tell your superiors as well. I'm not accepting the job, and I most definitely don't want a new partner.”

  I looked pointedly at her, trying not to be affected by the sensual heat in her eyes. Her quiet intelligence peered out at me from behind her cute spectacles. “Besides, didn't they give you any hint how rough I am?”

  She shook her head. “No, I researched you, though, well as much as I could. I couldn’t find a lot about you. Don’t like to take pictures, huh?”

  Truth was, I didn’t. But I did show up in them as well as in mirrors, despite popular belief.

  “If you’ve heard about me, then you won't be too upset over my...not so gentle let down. It's a hell no, girl, and that's final.”

  She scratched her head. “But you haven't even heard my proposal, yet, sir. I mean I can understand being shot down once in a seventy-two hour period, but twice? That's more than even I should be expected to take.”

  She shook her head as if to clear it. “Never mind, I'm going to forget that you took one look at me, and just dismissed me, and give you the benefit of the doubt. I mean it's apparent that you're a little tired, and that probably is the reason you don't want to hear me out. But I'm going to stay right here, and wait it out, until you agree to listen to everything I have to say.”

  I closed up Slade’s house tightly, checking that the lock had caught, and then passed the determined woman in front of me. “I'm sorry.”

  She stood there, too. I tried not to get impatient, wondering if it even made a difference if I showed her that I already was…getting bothered.

  “You really are trying to wait there all day?” I asked and looked directly at her for the first time.

  When our gazes collided, there was something strange, timeless, and new that flickered between us. The sounds of the forest faded into the background. I heard only her heartbeat.

  The smells of the wide-open became mundane compared to the rich flowers and jasmine scent of her hair. From where I stood, I inhaled the melon and strawberry fragrance of her skin. The vibrant colors of the gorgeous day were suddenly less so as all I could focus on was the beautiful sapphire of her lovely eyes.

  Her breath began to make larger puffs in the cold and I heard her heart beat harder. I noticed her eyes didn't slide away from mine. This look between us wasn't challenging. It was inquisitive...and I was fascinated to th
e point of excluding all else at that moment.

  I shook my head. Her being here was an enigma and my presence here was plain to understand. I wanted to figure out if what Agent Boyd Ramsey said was true. I didn't need anything else complicating matters.

  She nodded. “This is really important. A lot of people's lives are at stake. I don't know if you know this, but you are a person who can make a difference in those lives. You and I teamed up together can change the shopping experience. It’ll be food and clothes. Can you see it?” She held up her hands making a square in the sky. “Food and clothes.”

  I cleared my throat, now wondering exactly who she thought I was. After I’d rejected the idea she was a real estate agent, I’d assumed the agency sent her to change my mind regarding the case.

  Now the closer I looked at her, the more I realized, though she was a shifter, one that had me seeing them in a whole new light, I didn't see anything particularly agent-like about her.

  “Who are you? And exactly why are you here?” I asked.

  She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and looked directly at me. “I want you to be my partner.”

  Well, then again, maybe I was right in thinking she was with the agency. Maybe she was undercover and didn’t want to break it. I shook my head, angry that Agent Boyd Ramsey had sent this gorgeous woman to reel me in. I wasn’t some kind of schoolboy who could be led about by such methods.

  Through with the conversation, I headed for my car, taking large steps so that I could get into it and drive off. I was a little stunned when an elbow poked me in the stomach. And I stopped and looked down.

  “I asked you who you are and you told me. Enough said,” I said softly, not trying to scare her, but not exactly encouraging her to say one thing more about me partnering up with her.

  “Who am I? Maybe I should ask who you are.” She screwed her eyebrows together in a bewildered frown and chewed on the corner of her lip. “From what Sophia said of you, you're pretty easy-going. Not this big guy who has no clue when something good is staring him in the face.”

  She looked at my truck and her frown deepened. Then she began to back away. What had her spooked?

  “The dossier I have on you says you drive a Porsche at home, and a Ford SUV in the woods, where you came to stay on vacation. It said nothing about a Dodge truck.”

  “I’ve never driven a Porsche in all my life,” I said.

  She backed away some more. “Oh my goodness, you could be some deranged serial killer. And I’m out here in the woods, in front of an empty cabin, alone with you.” She pursed her pretty lips. “You try anything, I’ll silver spray you. Yeah, buddy, I have some.”

  That stopped me cold in my tracks. Me, a serial killer? “I’m a vampire.”

  “Damn. They don’t sell bottled fire. But there are plenty of twigs around here.” She planted her palm against her face and groaned. “I should’ve realized sooner, something wasn’t right. Slade is not a vampire.” She brought her hand down and revealed narrowed and accusatory eyes. “Have you done something with him?”

  On any given day, I’d been on the receiving end of a lot of accusations, but never one quite so...inaccurate. I grimaced and wondered if I really looked like a serial killer to her. But now it all made sense. She’d thought I was Slade.

  I had to wonder, though. What was someone who was interested in Slade, one who clearly hadn't met him yet, and who obviously hadn't heard about his murder, doing here?

  “I’m not a serial killer.”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  “And I have no plans on doing anything to you, Ma'am.” I gave her my best, I'm just an innocent guy, out and about look.

  She pressed her lips together into a thin line, apparently not buying it. “I don't see any other vehicles here.”

  I nodded. That was right. Slade had died at his girlfriend's cabin.

  “Why were you inside of his house, if he's not home?” she asked.

  It was a cabin, and was she interrogating me?

  I had to admit, the way her mind quickly put things together, made me less inclined to leave her where she was standing, and more interested in finding out exactly who she was.

  Studying her briefly, I wondered if I should be the one to tell her. I’d always had a bit of a soft spot for a woman with a quick mind. That was the only excuse I had for what I did next.

  “Slade was my friend. I’m gonna give it to you straight. Don't know what you wanted to propose to him, but you could bet he would’ve listened to it a lot faster than I would’ve.”

  There. I'd done my duty and been civil. Now it was time for me to get home.

  She stepped forward her gaze beseeching me. Her eyes got to me, like nothing else that day had. I couldn't explain it, it was just this feeling that she was maybe someone I should go a little easy on today. Damn. I shook my head. I couldn't remember the last time I’d been less than blunt with anyone.

  “Where is Slade?” Her words were slow, and her voice was uneven. It was like she suspected something, but didn't want to believe it. “I mean you spoke about him in the past tense.”

  So there was nothing for it but the truth. “Slade’s dead. Been logged as a murder-suicide.”

  That part wasn't secret, in fact, Moyna had mentioned it the first moment I walked into her house. But this woman here obviously didn't take such news so well. Her face paled, the slight smattering of sprinkles on her nose stuck out starkly, her sapphire eyes misted, and her lip trembled. “I didn't know him well, but I…but I wanted to meet him.”

  She took steadying breaths and looked upward. Well, that's what I deserved for thinking I could impart anything gently. Even Agent Boyd Ramsey would have done a better job of it than me.

  “You think you can find your way back home?” I asked her.

  She nodded again. A tiny part of me didn't want to leave her, not in this state of mind. But the other part, the one not used to socializing with people so much these days, knew it wasn't such a good idea. I’d try to comfort her the best way I knew how. We’d end up in bed. She’d regret it.

  Like I said, I wasn't into more than one night stands. And that's how I found myself helping her into her car, waiting for her to get settled in before closing the door, and watching her drive off. I’d let her leave and hadn’t gone to an Inn and had my way with her. I wasn’t arrogant…just respectful of the dead.

  Finally, I got into my own truck, took my tired bones home, and fell into bed.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  *Augusta*

  THE NEXT DAY, I WENT to the small town’s diner. It was abuzz with talk of Slade and Odra. On their fateful night, they’d shared a romantic dinner, had wine, and eaten chocolates.

  I sighed. So far, my break from the city wasn’t going as expected. From what I’d read about Slade, he didn’t seem the type to be ruled by emotion. It didn’t sound like the woman he was found with was either.

  Honestly, I’d always had a hard time believing something when someone went totally against their grain. I didn’t think it was a murder-suicide. Why have chocolates and wine and then kill your lover—when from everything I’d heard of the two—they’d been faithful and madly in love.

  I looked around the place as I sat alone at my table for two. Along the far wall, there were plaques stating how good the food was in here. Under those notable commendations, a group of women and one man sat talking in hushed tones about Slade. I listened closely.

  Directly in my line of sight, a young woman wearing a polished suit sat across from a bulky man with a wide chest. Other than he had actual ridges cut in his shoulder blades, he could have been her twin.

  They were both human. It seemed strange that the rest of their lunch companions were not. By the look of things, though, the two vampires sitting with them were doing their best to appear mortal. I was fairly certain these humans didn’t know the kind of company they kept.

  My ears perked up when I caught him
say something to her. It was her name, which was Christie. It seemed he was her brother Thorley. I winced every time they raised their voices, but at least I heard their names early on and quite clearly.

  What were Slade's brother and sister doing here? Maybe they were here for the funeral? I had to check and see when it was and if it had already taken place. If it had, then why were they hanging around? Shouldn't they have left and gone back to their city homes by now?

  I widened my eyes. Unless, they lived here and Slade was visiting them. Wait, in Slade's dossier, it'd mentioned that he stayed here a few months out of the year—like a vacation home. It was possible his brother and sister did so as well.

  Beside them, the second woman held up a hand for them to stop. She then raked it through her short black hair, pinning them both with her large doe-like eyes. I frowned feeling terrible that she seemed to have been crying. The vampire’s nose was a little red and she kept rubbing it. I sighed. From overhearing their conversation, her name was Fifi.

  Maybe I should stop eavesdropping.

  Then the last young woman spoke up. And not wanting to but since I’d heard a lot of their conversation, I listened to her as well. She had a forceful way of speaking. As if she expected for those around to pay her attention and follow her. A natural leader. I was thinking she was around four hundred. Possibly even older—though not as old as Cade. When they apologized to her, they called her Diana.

  She was the only one who continuously brought up Odra's name. I scowled and strained to hear her speak. She looked a little wilder than the other women. She wore a ripped tank top under a plaid shirt and had green streaks in her hair. Either she was extremely festive and really got into the holidays or she brought a little alternativeness to their group.