by Emma Roman
“Is something wrong? Did something happen to Jayden?” Her heart lurched.
“No, no, Jayden’s fine.” He leaned forward. “I’m here because I need you to be aware of a situation.”
She sat up straight in her seat, her instincts on high alert. This was highly unusual. Barrett never let her in on any kind of top-secret operation.
“What it is? Is our Pack under attack? Do we need to mobilize? Do we need to weapon up?”
“Sweet Jesus, Granny, no.” The twitch in his cheek was back and he grimaced.
“Language, young man.” She scowled.
“Sorry.” He growled.
“So what’s the situation?”
“The Tennessee Pack Master just informed me that they had an assailant escape. They suspect he is headed into Arkansas and he’s on his way to Missouri.”
“Assailant? So he’s a dangerous werewolf.” She could feel the adrenaline pump in her veins like gooey caramel candy.
“Yes.”
“What’s his crime?”
He looked at her hard and long and she began to wonder if he was going to divulge the information.
“Kidnapping and raping female werewolves. He was convicted of two counts, but there could be more.”
“Holy moly.” She leaned forward. “So what do you want me to do? Set up a perimeter? Stake out a place he’s suspected of going? Lead up a team of vigilantes?”
“Absolutely not!” he thundered and stood up.
She frowned.
“I’m warning you so you can start alerting all the civilian werewolves in the area. They need to keep passing the word along to be on the lookout and not go anywhere by themselves.”
“You want me to call people? Like a prayer chain?” She sat back, wide-eyed.
“Sure.” He shrugged.
“Where’s the fun in that?” She should have figured Barrett would be a stick in the mud. One of these days these Arkansas Guardians were going to realize what an asset she was to the Pack and stop treating her like an old woman.
“It’s important that the werewolf civilians know what’s going on. Think of it as part of your civic duty,” he deadpanned.
She crossed her arms and pressed her lips into a scowl.
He looked at the picture on the table and nodded. “You need help hanging that picture?”
“I …” Her frown dropped and she brightened. “I tell you what. If you help me scan this picture into my computer, I’ll call everyone I know and warn them.”
“What are you up to, Granny?” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not planning on hunting this guy on your own, are you?”
“I will have you know that I don’t have time to hunt this wolf. I’m too busy with my own life. Believe it or not, my sex toy business is booming. You would be shocked how many orders I get every single day.”
“Actually I really don’t want to know.” He held up his hands in defense. He studied her face for a moment. “If I scan a picture into the computer will you promise to call and alert everyone? No tricks?”
“I can promise you that within three hours the whole state of Arkansas werewolves will know to be on the lookout. You just might catch this guy within a day.” She lifted her chin. “I’ve got too much going on to be worried about getting involved in Guardian business anyway.”
“Deal.” Barrett held out his hand. “Give me your picture and show me to your printer.”
3
“I know it’s Valentine’s Day. You don’t need to remind me.” Barrett leveled his gaze at his Guardians, Damon and Lucien, across his massive desk. He already knew the Weres had Valentine’s Day plans with their females, but the job of being a Guardian always came first.
It always did.
“Ava’s gonna fucking kill me,” Damon groused and sat back in his chair.
“Yeah, well, Catty might not let me into her bed for a whole month.” Lucien scrubbed his hand down his face and sighed.
“Nice to see my Guardians are all pussy whipped,” Barrett grumbled. It solidified his decision to never get mated. He didn’t need the distraction.
“Where are the rest of the Guardians?” Lucien frowned. “I know that Zane and Jayden are in town this week. Shouldn’t you be giving them the riot act too? I know they had plans with their females as well.”
“I already talked to them. I even called Braxton up in Eureka Springs to be on the lookout. He’s got bigger problems than you two. He and Kate have their Bed and Breakfast full of some human writers who won’t stop asking him sex questions.” Barrett shook his head. “Who the hell does that?”
“Writers do,” Damon stated. He glanced over at Lucien. “Count yourself lucky. Believe me, you’d much rather be here dealing with your mate and an escaped suspect than hanging with Braxton.” He cracked a smile. “I believe those are the same writers that scared your brother, Lorcan.”
“Scared Lorcan? I’m impressed.” Lucien nodded.
“Anyway.” Barrett wanted this conversation back on track. “I’ve got all my other Guardians on the lookout. So far the suspect, Robert Waldon, hasn’t been spotted. He could already be in Missouri, for all we know.”
“So you want us here around Little Rock?” Damon asked.
“Yes, you and Lucien cover Little Rock. The civilian werewolves have all been alerted, thanks to Granny.” He trusted the old woman to call everyone she knew and warn them about the escaped suspect. As soon as he’d scanned her picture into the computer she was on the phone and barking orders for everyone to spread the word and be careful and not travel alone.
Damon mumbled something under his breath.
“Before you two get your panties in a wad, I want you both to carry on as usual. I don’t want you to stand out, which means don’t cancel your plans for tomorrow night. If you want to take your females out for dinner or whatever couples do”—he waved his hand in the air— “do it, just as long as you keep your cellphones on and keep an eye out for any trouble.”
Lucien let out a sigh and relaxed in his chair. “Good. We’re supposed to do dinner and go to that new movie that just came out.”
“How long are we supposed to stay on alert?” Damon steepled his fingers.
“Until I say otherwise.” He didn’t expect the fugitive to get very far. If he didn’t turn up within twenty-four hours, then he figured the guy made it to the Missouri border. After that, Robert Waldon wasn’t his problem anymore.
***
“Well, would you look at that. I already had a response on my profile.” Granny spoke to herself and stared at the computer screen. The computer dating site called Mated for Life had been a bit tricky to figure out. She had managed to find her age group called, Silver But Still Hot To Trot, and answer the many detailed questions.
She was surprised they hadn’t asked for her blood type and a urine sample.
She scanned the multitude of pictures of men from late fifties to eighty years of age.
She bit her lip and hovered the cursor of the mouse over the message button, her stomach full of twisted nerves. She began to have second thoughts. She wasn’t really sure what she was getting herself into. If she chickened out and didn’t get a date for Valentine’s Day, then Ava and Catty were sure to find out.
Scowling at the computer screen, she hit the button and a message immediately popped up.
“Hi! I’m Walter Meadows. Saw your beautiful pic and read your profile. I am a young seventy-year-old virile man who likes long, meaningful conversation, traveling across the United States in my restored Airstream camper, fly fishing and wine tasting. I’d love to take you out to dinner for Valentine’s Day tomorrow. I live only an hour away from Little Rock and can either pick you up or meet you at a restaurant of your choosing.
She studied Walter’s profile picture. It wasn’t a very good picture partly due to the quality of the camera and the fact he was wearing a fishing hat with lures hanging off the sides. From what she could see he did have a pleasant smile and seemed to have all his teeth
. She definitely wanted a male with all his teeth.
“He sounds promising. Although I’m not sure about the camper. I’m too old to be traipsing through the woods and camping out.” She hesitated, her old fingers clenching together over the keyboard.
“It’s now or never.” She clicked the mouse and began pecking out a message.
“Walter, nice to meet you. I appreciate the kind words, but don’t think I don’t know a silver-tongued devil when I see one. Mind your manners, mister, or I’ll give you a piece of my mind. Now, as far as the dinner date, I’ll be glad to accept on one condition. I don’t put out on the first date. Now if you’re willing to drop some money for a nice steak dinner, then I’m all in. Otherwise, you can keep your money, with the rest of your man parts, inside your pants.”
She read and reread the message and then shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” She clicked the send button.
It only took less than a minute before she got a reply back.
“He must be sitting at the computer,” she mumbled and opened up his message.
“You have my word to be a perfect gentleman, I promise. I’ll send you the directions to the restaurant after I make reservations. Until then, I shall wait with baited breath.”
“Hmmm. I don’t know about the baited breath thing, but I guess I’ll give him a go.” She shut the computer off and stood. She needed to get busy picking out something to wear.
4
Granny smoothed her hand over the silky material of her green Easter dress and debated whether or not to wear gloves.
She knew women didn’t wear gloves anymore, but it had been years since she’d been on a date and loved. And that date had ended up being her mate.
She smiled as she thought about her dead husband, John. Back then, it was customary for werewolves to marry when they mated. Living with a man outside of marriage meant you were a loose woman, and she had no intention of letting the world think she was the Whore of Babylon.
Nowadays couples mated and shacked up, letting the human world think they were merely living together instead of being bonded together for life. When she found out that her grandson, Jayden, was marrying Haley, she’d been pleased beyond belief. To her it seemed the right thing to do. Plus planning this wedding was something she had dreamed of doing for her grandson for years.
She picked up her gloves and shoved them in her white purse. She’d wait to see what Walter looked like. If he was a looker, then she’d slip them on.
She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Six o’clock.
They were supposed to meet at six thirty for dinner. That way she could be home in time to watch her crime show at eight before going to bed.
“Not bad for an old lady.” She patted her white hair and gave herself a devilish wink in the mirror. She looped her white purse on the crook of her elbow.
“Time to get this show on the road.”
***
“You look good enough to eat.” Damon looked across his menu at Ava. His hunger for food had been long forgotten. His hunger for his mate had only grown as he continued to stare at her in that tight red dress and fuck-me-against-the-wall shoes she was sporting.
“Good. I’ll hold you to that after dinner,” she quipped and continued to study the menu.
“Why don’t we forget the food and go home now?” He picked up her hand and sucked the tip of her finger in his mouth. He let out a low growl at the taste of her sweet skin.
A soft moan erupted from the back of her throat. His cock hardened behind his zipper.
She shook her head and snatched her hand away. “You have to stop that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m starving and I plan on having my Valentine’s dinner complete with dessert. Besides, I’m not eager to get back out in that rain.” She glanced out the window at the downpour.
“I’ve got your dessert right here.” He gave her a predatory grin.
“Damon, chocolate. I need chocolate.” She giggled. “I’ll have your dessert after we get home.” She arched her brow.
“I like the sound of that.” He frowned and looked around for their waiter. The sooner they ate, the sooner they could get the hell out of there.
***
“Motherfucker.” Robert Waldon glanced up at the lightning stretching across the darkened sky and mumbled at the roll of continuous thunder. He needed to find a car and find it fast. The last vehicle he’d stolen had run out of gas. He’d left it on the side of the highway and made his way further into Little Rock.
Once he got a vehicle, then he could make it to Missouri by early morning if he drove straight through. Under werewolf law a fugitive couldn’t be extradited from the state of Missouri. He sure as shit wasn’t going to face a werewolf tribunal for his crimes of kidnap and rape. He wasn’t ready to die. Not yet.
The first fat drops of rain quickly turned into a torrential downpour, soaking the stolen ugly jacket he’d pulled out of the car.
He jogged toward the crowded parking lot of the upscale restaurant. With it being Valentine’s Day he was hoping people were too distracted with each other to notice him around the cars.
The rain fell faster, stinging his face and making his disposition even more irritable.
He tried the door of a Toyota, but it was locked. He went to the next car and repeated the action. Seven cars later he let out a curse. Thunder rolled overhead and lightning exploded across the sky. An old car pulled into the parking lot and he froze as the headlights bobbed over him.
It was an older model car and from the small silhouette behind the driver’s seat, it appeared to be a woman driving it.
A grin crossed his lips. A woman and a car. His luck was about to change.
The woman parked and killed the engine. She eased open the large door and stuck an umbrella out and opened it up. She eased out of the car and held the umbrella tight, hiding under its shelter from the rain.
“Here, let me carry that for you.” He put on his charming smile and reached for her umbrella. Her old eyes narrowed suspiciously and she tightened her grip on the handle.
“I hate to see such a beautiful lady out in weather like this,” he reassured her. He knew old ladies like her were an easy target. He just needed to say the right words and smile the right way to gain her trust.
“Wait…” Her face relaxed a little. “Are you Walter Meadows? From the dating site?” She glanced at his coat. “I should have known since you said you were wearing a cream-colored jacket with a red rose in the pocket.” Her gaze dropped and she arched her brow. “Where’s the rose at?”
Fuck.
He feigned surprise and patted the lapel of his coat before looking down. “Would you look at that? That downpour of rain must have washed it out of my pocket. I’m terribly sorry.”
She smiled and patted his arm. “Oh that’s okay. Never was too fond of roses myself. Too many thorns. Let’s go inside, shall we?”
Damn. She thought he was her date. He glanced around at the number of cars pulling into the parking lot. Too many people to make a move now. He’d have to wait.
“Of course, shall we?” He held out his arm and took the umbrella out of her hand. She smiled and placed her bony hand on his arm.
They hurried to the front door of the high-end restaurant and he opened the door. He discreetly patted the inside of the jacket. If this was a date he was going to have to pay. He hoped the chump whom he’d stolen the jacket from had sense to keep his money on his inside pocket.
His fingers brushed against the hard outline of a wallet and relief washed over him.
“Do you have reservations?” The young blonde hostess looked at them with a polite smile.
“Yes, we do. I believe he made them under Walter Meadows.” The old lady informed the hostess and then looked back at him. “It’s a good thing you called ahead. Would you look at the crowd tonight?”
Shit. She knew his name, but he didn’t have a fucking clue what hers was. He needed to find out her name and find o
ut fast if he wanted her to believe his ruse.
The hostess grabbed two leather-bound menus and led them to a table for two in the middle of the restaurant. They walked through the crowded restaurant buzzing with voices and whispers.
He started to sit but remembered his manners. He went around the table and pulled out her chair first. She smiled primly and sat clutching her white purse in her lap.
He sat and they both took the menus from the hostess.
He swiped his brow with the napkin.
“You look like a drowned sewer rat,” the old lady said and took a sip of water.
Irritation flared in his gut. He forced a smile. “That does happen when one is caught in a rainstorm, dear lady.”
“Humph. No need in getting all formal with the lady stuff. Just call me by my name.” She set her glass down.
Fuck.
The waiter appeared with an eager smile. “Hello, so glad you two could join us for our special Valentine’s Day dinner. Can I get some drinks started?”
The old woman pursed her lips and studied the menu. “Well, since it is a special occasion, maybe I’ll have a glass of your house wine.” She frowned, shook her head and held up her hand. “No, wait. I’ve got to drive home. Just give me a sweet tea.”
“Double shot of scotch.” He scanned the room. It was busy with couples filling every available table. He tapped his fingers on his pants. Too many people made him nervous. If one of the Arkansas Guardians spotted him, then he was done for. He needed to make his exit.
“Scotch?” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you think it’s wise to be drinking and driving?”
“I have a fast metabolism.”
Her eyebrows shot up. She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Ah yes. The metabolism of a werewolf.”
He froze. He inhaled deep.
She was a Were too. He was fucked.
Surely the Arkansas pack had been warned of his escape and informed the civilians to be on the lookout.
He scanned the room while he waited for his drink to see if he could see any other Weres. So far everyone looked human. He relaxed a bit.
