by Aline Hunter
She turned beet red and launched for the head of the bed, cursing as he chuckled. A visit from Doc and he’d be alone with his mate.
Finally alone.
Just the two of them…
Trey’s earlier spectacle gave him pause. Emory couldn’t wait too long to ask Mary about what they’d found in her bag. If he wanted to clear his mate of any suspicious behavior it was best done sooner than later. Besides, who really cared about the money and map she’d stowed away with her clothing? She’d obviously been prepared to run, something that proved she was just as smart as he remembered. He was certain she was protecting herself, trying to stay one step ahead of her enemies.
You’re focusing on the positives, not the negatives.
The nagging remainder ate at him, stirring his anger.
So what if the map in her possession had an enormous circle around New York? Mary had said she’d always wanted to go there. Serendipitous things occurred all the time. Just because the area was marked didn’t mean she’d had anything to do with the bombing months before. She’d never harm anyone or anything, he was certain of it. That was why he’d asked Ava not to dig the information out of her head, to allow him to ask personally.
Even as he tried to convince himself, a prickle of unease shot down his spine.
They’d have their time, and then he’d get his answers.
He only hoped they were answers he wanted to hear.
Chapter Six
Caden Stone wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, much less a member of the pack that had adopted him months before. A human living among wolf shifters—who would have thunk it? Not him, that’s for fucking sure. He was grateful they’d uncovered the truth about this wife’s death but it didn’t mean he liked to socialize or play nice like the rest of the puppies. He continued to reside in their presence because it benefited him to do so, not because he had a yen to settle down, join the pack officially and start a family.
Family. One word. A locker full of endless misery.
Been there, done that. Watched them take a trip six feet under.
Pain speared his chest, the ache heavy. It was difficult to gasp for breath, the anguish of loss too much to take, bearing down on him…
He forced emotion aside, concentrating on his thoughts, remembering why he was sitting inside the home of one of the most powerful shifters in the world. Diskant wanted to kill the Shepherds who annihilated a good portion of their pack. Caden wanted to find the whereabouts of the man responsible for the death of his wife, who was connected to Shepherds.
Two people with the same goal—a deadly combination.
Despite the fact that Shepherds had put the hit on Cade’s wife, it was the man who took her life he wanted dead—as well as the man he knew only as Mr. Pink. Now that was a motherfucker he intended to bleed dry, so the bastard could fully appreciate the importance of the moment. Mr. Pink had enjoyed Andrea’s suffering. Cade had seen it in the memory Ava showed him, as though he’d been standing inside his kitchen with the murderers the night his wife died.
Calm down. Don’t work yourself up. There’s protocol to follow.
As if he could forget.
There was a strict set of laws one respected if you wanted to survive among shifters, a code of conduct that would keep your head on your shoulders. It wasn’t as if he could come and go at will—oh no. He had to take it up the shitter like a big boy, listen to orders and follow them. The pack liked to be orderly, meaning there were rules. Lots and lots of rules. And the number one rule was simple: do not fuck with Diskant Black.
The first time he’d met the Omega, he’d decided to go at him like any other shifter—huge mistake. Diskant decided to pull out his shifter deck of cards and call on the tiger inside of him, wiping the ground with Cade’s ass good and fucking proper. Caden hadn’t had his ass stomped that badly since he’d been a puny kid on the elementary school playground and had tried to defend his secret crush’s honor: a move that left him bleeding on the ground as the first love of his life walked away with the bully who’d tugged her hair and called her stupid.
His thoughts drifted from one dismal point in time to another—his current one.
He tried to act like he didn’t give a shit when Diskant walked into the kitchen and took a seat across from him. D didn’t do small talk. If he’d searched Caden out, he wanted something.
Fuck my life.
He really wasn’t in the mood to talk but there was no way around it. This wasn’t a world that allowed him to take what he wanted. It was a world of take-what-you-get-and-shut-the-fuck-up. Unicorns and rainbows only existed in fairytales, little girls’ bedrooms and when Neil Patrick Harris got his shroom on.
“We need to talk,” Diskant said in a voice so deep it felt like the air rattled.
“I kinda figured that.” Cade plopped his bottle on the table, crossed his arms over his chest, reclined in his chair and waited.
“What I’m about to say to you goes no further. This isn’t pack business, it’s personal.”
Personal. Not necessarily a good thing. “I’m listening.”
Diskant leaned forward, words soft. “You’re aware that, under certain circumstances, I do share information with the Villati.”
Oh shit. Not a good thing at all. “I’m aware.”
And boy, was he aware.
The Villati were a group of researchers who recorded all things supernatural. Trey had been furious when he’d discovered Diskant had met the top dog of the organization, Craig Newlander, following Ava’s final stage of the bloodbond. None of the pack knew what had taken place between Craig and Diskant but it continued to make everyone nervous. If information about the packs leaked, or the mainstream media learned that their nice, crime-infested world was also inhabited by werewolves, vampires and witches, they’d probably declare it the end of days.
“Recently Mr. Newlander contacted me about something important—something he doesn’t know what do with.” For the first time since Cade had met Diskant, he saw fear in the shifter’s face, and it scared the piss out of him.
“What kind of something are we talking about?”
“A large-scale catastrophe, one that could possibly wipe out a solid portion of the United States.”
Cade considered crossing himself. Speak of the end of days, receive the end of days.
Fuck my life twice.
Diskant lowered his gaze, staring at the table. “Have you heard of Pompeii, Caden?”
The question jarred a memory and Cade found himself recalling a long-forgotten history class, along the lines of a partially buried town somewhere in Rome—the result of a massive eruption. “Is that the city a volcano destroyed?”
“Yeah,” Diskant said, eyes remaining dead ahead. “That’s the one.”
The silence stretched for too long, making Cade’s skin twitch. “What about it?”
Diskant didn’t answer, as though he didn’t hear.
“Earth to D.” Cade snapped his fingers in front of the shifter’s face. “Come in.”
He bit back a cry of pain when Diskant snatched his hand at the wrist and lifted his head. The Omega’s eyes were wild, shifting color as though he couldn’t get a hold on his emotions. For a moment Cade considered calling for Ava. If anyone could control the asshole who could cause irreversible damage it was Diskant’s mate. Before he could, Diskant let him go, taking deep breaths.
“Outside,” he growled, rose from his seat and spun toward the door that led to the garage.
Cade didn’t argue, though his sense of logic damned him for a moron. Something was way off. Diskant never lost control. He couldn’t afford to. His position as the Alpha and Omega of the city meant he had to keep his cool, think things through.
What was so important it had him by the balls?
Diskant hated shielding himself from Ava. Fucking hated it. Especially when he’d have to answer her questions when she met him in their bedroom—a meeting she’d managed to demand just before he erected a menta
l wall between them. How did he tell her about the phone call he’d received while she was checking up on Mary? How could he possibly explain that something he’d thought was nothing more than a shifter story to scare children before bedtime was actually real?
A goddamn conjurer.
Damn Craig Newlander to hell for expecting the pack to take care of the problem. Shifters avoided witches and warlockes for a damn good reason. Strong magic had the ability to call to their animal forms, placing the beast before the man. When that happened a shifter would become a life-sized pet. Distance was necessary to ensure the safety of his kind, and he sure as shit wasn’t sending a member of his pack to escort the female to an enclave in New Orleans. It was too dangerous, and there was too much bad blood between shifters and those who once used them as familiars. There was only one person in his pack he could trust to get the job done—the human he’d taken under his protection.
Caden’s pierced face—usually impossible to read—was visibly agitated. The scar that ran along his chin was stretched in an unattractive way, the dark shadow around it making the puckered skin appear even more sinister, his eyes a hard steely gray. The large man hadn’t bothered sliding on his coat as they stepped outside, standing in the garage in nothing more than a wife beater, his massive tattoos like sleeves on his bulky arms. Although he’d left his coat behind, he had his weapons of choice—daggers—cradled in holsters under his biceps.
“I need you to do something.” Diskant hated flexing his muscle and calling rank but in some circumstances it was necessary. “It’s not a request.”
“Damn it.” Cade scowled, jaw clenching. “I knew I shouldn’t have come here tonight. I fucking knew it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Diskant said, somewhat relieved he could trust Cade to do as he asked. Then this entire mess would be behind them. “You’ve drawn the short straw. It’s time to balls-up and claim your prize.”
“Prize my ass.” The big son of a bitch spread his legs shoulder width apart. “Tell me.”
“I need you to play bodyguard. It’s not a long trip. Just a car ride from here to New Orleans.”
“Car ride? Why not fly?”
Diskant almost smirked. He’d asked the same question. It was then Craig reminded him of the horrible things that could happen when air shifted, or turned into a tornado. All possible with the package Caden was protecting.
“She gets airsick.”
“She?” If Caden had hackles, Diskant was sure they would have been raised. “You want me to leave so I can drive a fucking female to New Orleans?”
“No,” Diskant growled the word and took a step in Caden’s direction. “I want you to escort this female—a very important one, I might add—to New Orleans. You need to stay off the radar and avoid any unnecessary attention. The quicker you get her to where she needs to be, the quicker you can get your ass back here.”
“Why can’t someone else do it?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Does it look like I have somewhere I need to be? Explain it to me.”
Damn it. The stupid human always pushed people’s buttons. “I have somewhere I need to be. Sorry, Cade, we’re out of time.”
“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”
And that was the bitch of it. He couldn’t tell Caden anything. It was too dangerous. The reckless man needed to keep as much space between him and the female he would be escorting to safety as possible. Physical and emotional distance was important and everyone knew that Caden still mourned his wife, continued to love her.
In fact, Diskant was banking on that very thing.
“Why’s she so important?” Cade asked, impatient and now full-blown bitchy. “Will you at least tell me that?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Diskant shrugged. He’d given his word he wouldn’t reveal what the girl was to anyone. If word got out, supernatural creatures the world over would be scrambling to get their hands on her. “She’ll arrive in two weeks.” Diskant held up a hand when Caden tried to interrupt. “I know that means you can’t go with the pack if they decide to track down leads but I’m considering this a personal favor. Something I’ll owe you for. When you get back I can tell you where everyone is. You can leave to join them immediately. This is just a couple of weeks and few days of your life I’m asking for. That’s it.”
Caden stared at him, eyes narrowed. “Go on.”
“I’m going to arrange for a vehicle, weapons and cash.” At Caden’s arched brow, Diskant added, “You should only have to stop for one night—two tops. I’m not expecting any trouble but it’s never smart to travel with precious cargo unarmed.”
“Precious. Fucking. Cargo?” Caden snarled, not backing down, reckless in the face of danger. “You expect me to stay behind—doing you a personal favor—to haul a female you consider ‘precious cargo’ to Louisiana? I’m not a goddamn babysitter. Find someone else.”
Diskant felt his beasts answer the challenge, fighting for a place in line. “Best shut up while you can,” he snapped. “My mate isn’t in a good mood and I’m not likely to take your shit right now. I told you I’d owe you and this is important. As a member of the pack, that’s more than enough information.”
Caden opened his mouth to speak and Diskant snarled, “If I tell you to babysit, you’ll fucking do it. I’m not asking anymore, I’m telling you. Period. No argument. End of discussion.”
“Whatever you say, boss. It’s not like I can tell you to go fuck yourself.” Caden stepped around him, stomping toward the door to the house. “I’ve had enough of your shifter asses anyway. Always mysterious, sulking around and shit. I could use the break. I’m turning off my cell and taking a few days off. I’ll be back in a week. You’re all driving me insane.”
“Glad to hear it,” Diskant called to his departing back. “Call me in a few days. I’ll give you all the details.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Cade lifted his hand into the air, a middle finger salute tall and proud as he walked away. “Fuck you very much.”
Diskant released a long breath when the door closed and tried to calm his beasts, hoping that he’d made the right decision. He shook his shoulders to relieve the tension in his muscles, counting to ten in an effort to ice his temper. The pack had enough on their plate without worrying about witch business. Emory had to mate his female. The pack was on high alert for Shepherds in the vicinity. And Trey wouldn’t stop bitching about the map Mary had in her bag.
Enough was enough.
He could count on Caden. He knew he could. He brought a human into the pack and had to trust him to make smart choices. Caden would take the female to New Orleans in a couple of weeks, drop her off at her destination and his life would resume.
Even as Diskant tried to convince himself that what he’d done was right, he felt a strange heaviness in the air, something that warned him all was not what it seemed. All shifters had strong instincts, their gut guiding them in the right direction. In this case, what he’d done didn’t feel instinctive at all. Maybe it was the bad timing, or perhaps it was trusting Caden for the first time as a member of the pack.
Why did it feel as though he’d seriously screwed with fate?
Chapter Seven
The doctor inspected the wound on her head, flashed a light in her eyes and gave Mary the all clear. He told her she could take a bath and wash her hair so long as she rinsed carefully and avoided contact with the sutures. The word bath made her insides quiver. It would feel so good to sink into a pool of hot water and relax for the first time in days. She agreed to be extra careful and left Emory in the bedroom as she carried her bag into the bathroom, eager to start filling the large tub. She felt repulsive, sweaty and gross. Her hair had become sticky and tangled and she was pretty sure she was starting to stink.
Yuck.
After she pulled clean pajamas and underwear from her bag, she went to the tub, turned the faucets and got the water good and hot. Steam quickly filled the room, encasing her in warmth. After sliding
out of her T-shirt and underwear, she rushed to the bathtub. The water was just right—a slight burn before her skin adjusted. She rested back at the head of the tub, closing her eyes.
“Mary?” Emory’s voice had her lurching upright, wrapping her arms over her breasts.
“Yeah?” Excited tingles spread through her tummy down to her sex. He sounded so gruff—so incredibly sexy—when he said her name like that.
“Doc said I should help you wash your hair. He doesn’t want to risk any bleeding.”
“Oh.” The doctor hadn’t said anything to her about it. Likely he’d known she’d argue.
“I won’t take advantage.” He chuckled. “Difficult as it might be, I can be a gentleman.”
She lifted her legs to her chest and slid her arms around her knees. Emory didn’t have to tell her he was capable of being a gentleman. She already knew he was. Still, it didn’t stop the wisps of electricity that traveled through her body. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as her nipples hardened into points and her pussy became wet. They’d started something they hadn’t been able to finish earlier, something she knew Emory had every intention of seeing through to the end. Glancing down, she figured she was covered well enough. The water came to her chest and her knees prevented him from seeing her breasts.
“Okay.” She managed to force the word out, although her voice sounded strained.
He laughed again and the sound made her heart race and her pulse quicken. His footsteps sounded like drums as he walked toward the bathroom, warning her he was almost there, nearly at the finish line. When the bathroom door swung inward she held her breath and stared ahead, unable to look in his direction.
Damn her self-awareness. She wasn’t brave enough to glance at Emory when he strode by the tub, walked to a shelf and retrieved shampoo. She buried her nails in her hands, trying to stop the fuzzy feeling coming over her, mortified at how erect her nipples were and how much they ached. Then of course there was the throbbing coming from down below, beating like a hammer.
