by VA Dold
Emma sighed loudly. “We never could hide anything from you. Okay, here’s the thing. The Goddess came to me with a message for you.”
Seth frowned, his lips thinning to a tight line. “Why didn’t Luperca come to me with it?”
“You’re retired. Maybe she won’t speak to you as often as she used to. I’m the King, and the Goddess doesn’t speak to me,” Isaac reminded him with a shrug.
Seth rolled the coffee cup in his palms. “Yeah, maybe. What did she want?”
The way his mother looked at him made Seth uneasy. She took a deep breath as if mustering courage. This couldn’t be good. “She has one last hunt she needs you to do and then she won’t bother you again.”
Seth sat back and narrowed his eyes. Anger curled in his gut. “No. What part of retired doesn’t she understand?” His infuriated tone rumbled with Fang’s snarl.
Isaac took the seat next to Seth and laid a hand on his arm. His father pressed his lips together and gave him the ‘I have something to tell you, and you aren’t going to be happy about it’ look. “The Goddess only needs you this one last time. She said it’s important. There’s a woman in Minnesota. Her name is Sara Adams. Paul Johnson, I’m sure you remember him, went rogue and killed Sara’s brother, and the human plans to hunt the beast on her own. Even though she’s a homicide detective, and trained to hunt killers, she won’t stand a chance. Miss Adams will die if you don’t help her.”
Seth huffed out a breath. “Yeah, I remember Paul. He visited here a few times when I was a kid.” He leaned forward and gave his parents a hard look. “Luperca guaranteed this is the last time?”
Emma’s tight expression softened. “Yes. Absolutely the last time.”
Isaac grabbed two cups from the center of the table and poured one for himself and another for Emma. Seth noted his father averted his eyes. There was more, and he wasn’t going to like it. At all. “There’s a condition. You must partner with the woman and allow her to help you hunt the rogue.”
And there it was. Seth slammed the cup on the table, uncaring that coffee sloshed everywhere. “Hell no. Absolutely not. I won’t take a human on a hunt, especially not a female.”
Isaac glared intensely at his cup as he dropped the final blow. “You don’t have a choice. The Goddess made that a stipulation of your retirement. Sara must be allowed to help avenge her brother. She has plans for the woman and needs her to not only survive, she must also be involved in the hunt. We can’t let you move home permanently until the job is done. We can’t take the chance of angering the Goddess.”
He said the last part under his breath, so Seth almost didn’t hear him. His jaw fell open, but he closed it with a snap, the tips of his lengthened fangs showing at the edges of his mouth. “Are you kicking me out?”
Emma rushed to reassure her son. “No, of course not. However, we can’t go against the Goddess’s wishes.” She paused and then asked more gently, “Can you?”
Seth raked a hand through his hair. “No. But for the record, I don’t like anything about this assignment.”
Isaac squeezed Seth’s arm again. “We know, son. Although, once it’s done, you can live here with us. I already have a house waiting for you. I know how you like to be close to the water, so I built it along the river.”
A smile tugged at Seth’s lips, and his fangs receded. “You built me a house?”
“Of course! About two years ago. I decorated it with comfortable furniture and no frilly things just the way you’d like, and it’s been sitting vacant waiting for you to come home,” Emma said in a rush.
The thought of losing his family was a stab to his heart. With their reassurances, he could breathe again. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. I want to see Richie one last time before I leave. I left some of my things at his cabin, and I want to say goodbye.”
Isaac sat back and narrowed his eyes at Seth. “Before you go, I have to ask, why do you keep referring to the Goddess by only her name?”
Seth simply shrugged. “Because I know the truth. All of it. Do you?”
Isaac shot a surprised look at Emma. “Yes. Although, I’m shocked that you do. No one but the reigning King has that knowledge.”
“Luperca gets bored and likes to talk. With so many of us completing our soul contracts I think its time for full disclosure to the community.”
“What do you mean by everything?”
“Everything. Every detail. The entire truth.”
Isaac frowned but nodded. “Damn. We’ll consult Luperca and ask her opinion.”
Seth rose from the table and rinsed his cup in the sink. “Good. I better get on my way.”
Seth motored his way to Richie’s cabin thinking about the past couple of days. He and Fang had come close to losing their friend. Too close. Thankfully, they’d listened to their intuition and followed Richie and Piper to the French Quarter. The damn fool took a bullet for Piper. Seth growled, and Fang snarled. Who was he kidding? They wouldn’t have done any different if they had a mate.
Healing Richie had required every skill Seth possessed. He’d healed himself and countless others over the years but had never experienced exhaustion like when he pulled Richie from the jaws of death. He had barely made it to Piper and Richie in time. Without Piper holding Richie’s soul from crossing over, they would have lost their friend. If he’d been a minute later, his best friend would have gone on to his everlasting reward, leaving his unclaimed mate and the two of them to grieve his loss. Seth wasn’t sure he would have survived that final blow. His soul was in tatters as it was, full of holes and missing pieces.
Fang whined and nudged his mind.
Seth sent Fang reassurance that all was well.
He smiled, and Fang chuffed when Seth pictured Richie’s face as he carried him to their waiting vehicle. If only he had a picture to blow up into a poster and pin to Richie’s wall.
And Piper, dang she was funny as hell. Every time he thought about her threatening to shoot Richie if he ever tried to save her again he busted out laughing. He’d forgotten how good it felt to laugh.
Richie answered the door with a dishtowel in his hands. “Seth, what brings you back so soon?”
“I’m collecting my gear from the woods. Piper’s bounty is in custody. I’m no longer needed here. Plus, Mom and Dad informed me there’s a rogue in Minnesota, and they asked me to handle the assignment before I retire for good. So, I came to say goodbye.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, man. I know you’re burned out, and you didn’t want to hunt anymore. Isn’t there anyone else who can go to Minnesota?”
“According to Dad, I’m the only one who can do it,” Seth said tiredly. “The request came directly from Luperca. I’m to allow a human woman by the name of Sara Adams to help with the hunt and ensure she doesn’t get herself killed in the process.”
Richie’s eyes glowed angrily. “All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll go with you.”
Richie’s fury brought a small smile to Seth’s face. “I’ve always been able to count on you to have my back. Thank you, but no. You have a new mate to see to, and I’ll be fine. Besides, the female is a homicide detective. I’m assuming she’ll know how to handle herself. Who knows, it might be entertaining. If nothing else, I can practice conversing with a human while I clean up the mess.”
“If you get into a bind, you’d better call me,” Richie demanded. “I don’t have a lot of close friends, and I can’t afford to lose one.”
“All right. If I need backup, you’ll be the first person I call.” He grinned, and pulled Richie into a man hug, pounding him on the back. “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”
He turned to Piper and kissed her knuckles, amusement crinkling the skin at the corners of his eyes. “Congratulations, cher, and welcome to the family.”
Twenty-four hours later, Seth had feet on the ground in Minnesota. With long, purposeful strides he crossed the crowded lobby of Richfield city hall. Sara’s police department
was somewhere in the building. In his search for the correct office suite, he and Fang ignored the way humans hurried to move out of their away. They’d become accustomed to humans avoiding them and turned a blind eye to the strange behavior. That is until a woman gasped loudly and backed up several steps. That they noticed. To add insult to injury, when Seth gave her what he felt was a charming smile, she squeaked and watched his every move guardedly. The final straw was the way she rushed up the stairs and out of sight the instant she reached them.
Fang snorted and rolled his eyes.
Sure, he was tall and had more muscles than the average guy. All Elite hunters did. But come on, the woman’s reaction was a bit extreme. The encounter only served to remind him why he preferred life as a hermit in the mountains. He shrugged and went back to his search. “Screw humans,” he mumbled under his breath.
At that comment, Fang growled in displeasure.
“Shut it, wolf,” Seth ordered.
He pushed the police department’s door open and surveyed the room. Fang huffed and jumped to attention as Seth’s head snapped to the woman behind the front desk when she sucked in a sharp breath and slapped her hand over her mouth. The female stared at them with huge frightened eyes. Silently, they made their way to her. His footsteps were merely a whisper, having learned to walk softly during training as a hunter. Stealth and silence were essential in their line of work. One hundred and fifty years of moving in a learned fashion was ingrained, and he wasn’t about to change now.
Seth rolled his shoulders to ease the tension lodged between his shoulder blades. There was a person of power near. The energy rippled in the air, pushed at him, and made his skin itch. He and Fang went on heightened alert. Until they determined if the wielder were friend or foe, they assumed the worst. That was how they stayed alive.
He tried a smile on the receptionist. It failed as badly as the first. Why bother? With a sigh, he said, “I’m here to speak to Sara Adams.”
Sara Adams leaned forward with one fingernail between her teeth, wholly focused on the case file spread across the desk. She released the tortured nail and stilled. Every hair stood up on the back of her neck. Without raising her head, she glanced at the bullpen outside her office. At the far side was Maryann’s reception desk.
The air rushed from Sara’s lungs. A smoking hot man was barking orders at Maryann. The man may be gorgeous, but dangerous energy oozed from every pore of his body.
Sara thumbed the safety off her service weapon, and slowly so as not to draw attention, moved to her office door. She never took her eyes from the man. The height scale glued to the wall directly behind him verified her eyeballed estimate. The guy was six foot three, with slicked-back hair, skin-tight T-shirt, leather pants so tight nothing was left to the imagination, and shit-kicker boots. All jet-black. The man likes color, Sara thought sarcastically.
His broad shoulders rolled as if stretching stiff muscles. This guy had every earmark of a tough as nails biker who knew how to handle himself in a fight. The only thing was, the man wasn’t wearing a leather jacket, and she didn’t see any identifying tattoos. If he was in a biker gang, he wasn’t flying his colors.
Sara wasn’t the only one who noticed the man. A few of the officers had noticed the confrontation as well and went for their weapons, flipping the safeties off. The atmosphere in the department snapped like a rubber band from business as usual to one of alertness and suspicion. All chatter in the bullpen ceased. The air grew thick with male aggression. She could taste the bitter essence of it on her tongue. Swallowing hard, she repressed the impulse to spit the flavor of burnt toast from her mouth.
Before the bullpen could turn into a lousy reenactment of the O.K. Corral, Sara stepped from the office and weaved her way through the desks. Upon seeing her, the men stood down. Before she could cross the room to Maryann, Randy, the chief of police beat her to it. Satisfied Maryann was safe, Sara wandered around the bullpen while keeping an eye on the interaction at the front desk. Good, Randy will handle whatever trouble the bastard dishes out.
Seth stiffened, and Fang bristled. They glanced around the open office space. Immediately, they spotted her, the woman from their vision. Her thick, blond hair hung loosely about her shoulders and swayed as she moved gracefully around the room.
They kept her in sight, adjusting their stance as need be. Taking a breath, they filtered through the myriad of deodorants and burned coffee until they found her. There it was, the incredible vanilla and caramel scent they would always associate with their miracle woman. She wore the same suit as in the vision and every so often, they caught a glimpse of her badge hanging from a chain around her neck.
The woman was a bit pale, probably from hours spent indoors. Her eyes were a lovely, soft, olive green. A color they would never forget. Even if she had looked different than the vision, they would have recognized the female. There was no mistaking her eyes. Even the glare of fluorescent lights couldn’t diminish her beauty. Her lips were full and luscious like sweet berries. Perfect. He couldn’t wait to taste them.
Though their woman wore the same ill-fitting suit from their ethereal encounter, they caught glimpses of her figure each time she turned or leaned forward and the fabric pulled tight. She had full breasts and flared hips that Seth was dying to get his hands on.
During training, the candidates learned preparedness and control were necessary at all times. He planned out everything from a simple trip to town for supplies to a battle to the death with a rogue. Every plan had several contingency plans. He always had an A, B, and C, hell, sometimes a D if options allowed. Nothing was left to chance. Nothing and no one took him by surprise. That was how he’d survived the past one hundred fifty years as a hunter.
Until her. She was a shock to his system that threw him off balance.
Prior to that night in the cave, Fang had been the only one who staunchly held out hope of finding their mate. Seth had given up. Now here she was, in the same room with them. The woman who held the other half of their battered soul. The same woman that they were required to take on an extremely dangerous rogue hunt. How completely unexpected and unacceptable was that?
Seth’s heart hammered, and the breath caught in his throat. If he were prone to panic attacks, he would swear he was having one. He pressed a fist tightly against his chest, over his heart, and took a breath. This was neither the place nor the time to act on instinct. Apparently, Luperca had a warped sense of humor they’d been unaware of. Not only did they have to take down one last rogue, a kill that might end them, but they also had to keep their mate alive while doing it.
Sara didn’t focus directly on the man she nicknamed Mr. Black for his choice of wardrobe. She didn’t want her fellow officers to catch her checking him out. No, she stayed slightly turned, so the hottie was in her line of sight, yet inconspicuous about what she was doing. She couldn’t help but look past the shield of menace Mr. Black wore like armor to see the man beneath.
Mr. Black’s face was all masculine angles and planes. Sara’s lips twitched with a suppressed smile. A strong, square jaw was sexy on a man. He had thick, dark hair and olive skin, though she doubted he was Italian. She tried to look away but for some reason, her attention was drawn back to him.
He glanced around the bullpen, and she saw Mr. Black’s eyes for the first time. A rich dark brown that somehow made him less fearsome. At least they weren’t black, like his choice of wardrobe. He swept the room, noting every person and possible exit point. For a moment, she wondered if the man was law enforcement or military. Then his eyes locked on hers, flared and narrowed.
Mr. Black may be a handsome devil, all sexy muscles, and five o’clock shadow, but he was dangerous. Very, very dangerous.
Her breath froze in her lungs. Now she knew what a gazelle felt like when it was hunted.
Sara stood stock still as his gaze drifted over her. When Mr. Black reached her feet, he reversed the process. Slowly. She ground her molars together. The man was
pissing her off. Who the hell did he think he was ogling her like that? Sara took a quick look around the office. All of the men were grinning. A few snickered as they went back to what they were doing. Ah hell. Everyone saw the way the asshat undressed her with his eyes. The guys would razz her about it for the next six months. There were days when she hated being the sole female homicide detective.
Sara was in the middle of calling the man every curse word she knew when Randy said her name.
Randy pointed at her with the pen in his hand. “That’s Detective Adams standing over there.”
Shit! Mr. Black was here for her?
He gave Randy a stiff nod and replied in a deep sultry voice, “Thank you.”
Suddenly, her shoes felt tight. Great, her toes had curled. Her toes had no business curling over anything having to do with that Neanderthal.
The hottie strode—no—flowed through the office in a direct line to where she stood with arms crossed. Hardened men, she respected sidestepped out of his way like scared rabbits leaving an open, unobstructed path straight to her. Sara squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She wasn’t about to let him intimidate her. He may look and act dangerous, but she was trained to handle men worse than wannabe bikers.
His gaze didn’t waver.
Neither did hers.
He didn’t blink.
That’s just crazy. Sara blinked, or her eyes would water.
Mr. Black didn’t stop until he was in her personal space. Much too close for comfort. Her gaze was now level with an extremely broad chest. A yummy well-defined expanse that stretched the black T-shirt to its limits. Sara absentmindedly licked her lips and then caught herself. She forced her gaze upward, pausing at his strong, square jaw, then again at his perfect lips until she found herself staring into eyes the color of her favorite dark chocolate. Expressive eyes. Powerful eyes. Eyes Sara was certain she’d seen before but couldn’t place where.
As she searched her mind for information, the strangers face dipped close to her hair and inhaled deeply.
