“Yes?”
“I want to kiss you, but. . .” He finally looked at me, his dark eyes filled with mortification.
“So, why don’t you?” I teased.
“I don’t deserve it. I behaved abhorrently. I can’t imagine—”
I leaned over and cut him off with a brush of my lips on his. His eyes went wide and his nostrils flared as he breathed me in.
I smiled at him with a quick twitch of my lips. “Cordero,” I purred. “I’m a big girl. I’m not hurt. You were tired and it was late. Don’t think too much about it.”
Pleeease, don’t think too much about it.
He released his iron grip on the steering wheel and caressed my cheek with gentle, trembling fingers.
“I haven’t been interested in someone for a very long time,” he muttered.
I bet.
Pausing before kissing him again, a mere breath away from his warm lips, I waited and hoped he’d close the distance. My blood rushed through my ears, waiting for his desire to take over.
Leaning into me, he grabbed my shoulders and crushed me to him. His lips parted, his tongue licking along the seam of my mouth, begging them to part.
I opened my mouth, deepening the kiss. I released all the tension in my shoulders and thought of Patrick, of his strong cool hands sliding over my body, of his cold lick of power caressing me inside and out. It was easy to pretend.
Breaking the kiss, he backed away panting.
“See,” I said in a whisper. “It only hurts for a moment.”
He actually laughed. The soft rumbled of his chuckle vibrated up his chest and I felt nothing.
I grabbed the handle of the passenger-side door and swung it open, stepping out before he could stop me. I noticed a familiar old pick-up parked about half a block down as my feet hit the sidewalk.
“Dahlia?” Detective Salazan called.
He definitely wasn’t thinking about what had knocked him the fuck out the night before if his pleasure-filled growl was any indication. Hopefully, the kiss would keep him in a desire-heavy haze and keep him from thinking too hard.
“When can I see you again?”
“Call me!”
I sauntered up to the door and slid my key in the lock. The Escalade roared to life as he hit the gas behind me. When I opened the door, Detective Salazan drove away. Waiting until he was out of sight, I closed the door again and strode down the sidewalk to the pick-up truck. Both windows were down and I perched my arms on the passenger-side door to find Raiden’s eyes fixed on me.
“I’d be careful of that one if I were you.”
“Is it because he’s Hispanic, or because he’s like 180 years old?” I asked, resting my chin on my folded arms and batting my eyes at him in mock innocence.
“He told you that?”
“Of course not,” I huffed, standing up straight.
“How do you know then?” he asked with a slight growl to his voice.
“I have my ways. You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“But I do worry. Georgie sees bad things comin’. I think it’s time you head home. You can’t do any good here.”
“Now, Raiden, you’re the second person in as many days who’s told me to clear out of town,” I said in my best ‘southern country girl’ accent. “I half expect tumbleweed to float on by.”
“I’m just lookin’ out for ya,” he huffed, clearly insulted.
“Marabelle? She’s that bad? She’s got you that worried?” I asked with a hint of disbelief.
“Yeah,” he said.
“I’ll take that under consideration.” I backed up a few steps and gave him a quick nod. His rickety old truck creaked to life and puttered down the street.
I strode into the house to find it empty. Enza was as good as her word, clearing out. A note sat propped against a coffee mug on the counter.
I’m at my parents. Text me if you need me. E
Chapter 12
His fingers were cool fire on my skin. His mouth fell on my breast like a drowning man gasping for air. I moaned as his lips brushed icy tendrils of pleasure across my nipple. I wrapped my legs around his torso and clutched him to me. I wanted him inside me, filling me up.
Using his tongue, he licked a line up my chest, neck, and jaw line. His lips brushed mine just before backing away, teasing. I opened my eyes to meet Patrick’s dark intensity staring back at me. Heavy lidded and filled with desire, hunger burned in those depths.
I brushed his midnight-black hair away from his face in a gentle caress. It’d grown long since I’d seen him last, seeming shaggy and unkempt as it hung halfway down his ears and over his eyes. I gazed down the line of his body, the broad shoulders, the muscular chest, and the firm erection that was pressed against my thigh. The candlelight flickered off his alabaster skin and my breath hitched in my throat at his hard, beautiful body. The warmth of my smile reached my eyes and spread though me as heat pooled low in my body.
He smirked down at me, flashing only the slightest hint of fang. “I missed you,” he whispered, hovering, pressing his weight down on me.
Diinngg . . . Doonngg.
“I know,” I said as a tear slid down my cheek.
DingDongDingDongDingDong.
I jumped, opening my eyes to find myself alone in a bed that wasn’t mine, in a house that wasn’t my home, with light streaming in through the window, crying.
Diinngg . . . Doonngg . . . Diinngg . . . Doonngg.
I wiped the tear from my cheek and threw the covers off me. God damn it! I just wanted to be home.
I stalked out of the bedroom, stomping toward the front door and the fucking doorbell, ready to rip the head off whoever was on the other side.
DingDongDingDong . . .
I ripped the door open with a scowl on my face and a snarl curling my upper lip.
Everett stood on the doorstep with his finger still prepped to push that damned doorbell again.
“If you touch that fucking bell one more time, I’ll rip your finger off,” I snapped.
Dropping his finger, Everett shoved both hands into his pants pocket. He lowered his eyes to the ground and his shoulders in submission, slumping. If he’d been in wolf form, I imagined his tail slinking between his legs. I took a deep breath and sighed. It isn’t his fault. He didn’t know you were sleeping in the middle of the day.
“What?” I asked, my voice still snippy. I couldn’t quite shake it. I’d been happy, if only for a moment in Patrick’s arms. I hadn’t wanted to wake up.
“I need to help,” he whined, raising his navy eyes to meet mine for a split second before dropping them.
I exhaled hard. Running my fingers through my hair, I ripped my fingers through a tangle at the back of my head.
“Look, Ev, I’ve had—” I turned my head, glancing over my shoulder at the three-foot diameter decorative clock on the wall in the dining room. Enza thought it was art. I thought it was a big ass clock. We agreed to disagree. “Four hours of sleep.” At this rate, sleeping while I was dead may be my only option cause I sure as hell wasn’t getting any sleep lately.
His eyes shot up at me with desperation and impatience. “I need to do something.”
Nodding in defeat, I opened the door for him. “Come on in.”
He followed me into the kitchen and hopped up onto one of the stools on the other side of the breakfast bar. I made coffee, needing the caffeine to wake up and keep my eyes open. I could still feel Patrick’s cool lips on my skin and couldn’t shake it, couldn’t focus.
After the first few sips of liquid caffeine, I buried the dream down deep and focused on the werewolf in my kitchen.
“So, you wanna help?” I asked, and took another sip. The coffee burned my throat on the way do
wn and I was thankful for the physical pain. The ache of burnt flesh distracted me from the tears I knew were only a thought or two away, with the taste of Patrick still on my lips and the memory of him filling my senses.
“Yeah,” Everett whispered as he twiddled his thumbs between his intertwined fingers on the breakfast bar. I watched him for a long moment understanding exactly how he felt.
Lost.
Devastated.
Helpless.
“Well,” I said. His eyes met mine with expectation and worship that I didn’t deserve. “Here’s what you’re going to do. I need someone to follow Detective Salazan. I want to know where he goes, what he does, and who he meets, talks to. Basically, if he takes a shit, I want to know what color it is and if it smelled.”
“Okay,” he said, light finally filling his eyes. “I’m on it.” The beginnings of a smile turned up the corners of his thin lips.
“Have you ever followed anyone before?” I set the mug down on the counter with a thunk and a slosh of liquid around the edges.
“No,” he answered, defensive. A smile tugged at my lips at his defiance. “But I’ll do it. You can count on me.”
“Detective Salazan’s not stupid. He’s gonna spot you,” I said as I picked up the mug and took another sip of the steaming liquid.
“I won’t lose him. If he does spot me, I’ll back off and find him again. Pick up the trail.”
Determination rang in his tone and flashed in his eyes. Determination and loyalty . . . Pack loyalty. Shit. I wasn’t his Pack.
“All right. All right,” I said, giving up. Truth be told, I could use the help. I couldn’t follow Detective Salazan and not be spotted. I had other things to do, trouble to cause. If I stuck my nose in enough places, something would get stirred up and try to kill me. “Lucky for you, he drives an ostentatious car. A big black Cadillac Escalade.”
I grabbed a Post-it pad and pen from one of the kitchen drawers and dropped them on the counter as I wrote.
“Here’s his address, his license plate, and the precinct where he’s stationed.” I ripped off the top sheet and handed the information to him.
Everett took it, shoving the slip of paper into the breast pocket of his oxford shirt.
“What are you going to do?” he asked in a voice that quaked with anxiety. He sounded frightened, as if he didn’t think I could take care of myself.
Please.
“I’m going to call some friends and see what they dug up for me.”
He watched me for a few moments as if he wanted me to explain, waiting. I raised my eyebrows in expectation. “What are you waiting for?”
“Oh, nothing. I’ll go now,” he said, jumping to his feet.
I waved at him, like sending a kid off to school, and took another drink of the warm coffee. It wasn’t piping hot anymore but I didn’t care. I watched as he backed down the hallway, keeping his eyes on the floor and his front facing me. Turning his back on me was a challenge, signifying that he didn’t think I was a threat. Everyone was a threat to Everett. That’s what being at the bottom of the pile meant. I shook my head as the door closed behind him.
“What am I going to do with him?”
I refilled my mug and rounded the breakfast bar to the laptop sitting on the counter. I should’ve gone to Kinko’s to check the e-mail address but I wasn’t dressed and daylight was wasting.
I booted up the computer and gazed out onto the veranda as it started up. Sunlight glimmered off the surface of the pool, making it look like it was covered in blue and white glitter. Snow White stared back at me from the laptop screen wallpaper and I couldn’t hide the smile curling up the corner of my lips. I logged on to the gmail account I’d opened before I’d left Columbus and waited for the system to load. I’d only checked it sporadically so I wasn’t surprised by the amount of SPAM filling my inbox. In the middle of the page, a single email from Derek caught my eye. The next six were from Jade. That surprised me, then again it was Jade, and I should’ve known better. I opened Derek’s first.
Hey Kid,
I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Basically, his work history is clean. He’s been in Las Vegas for the past five years, a couple of commendations and no write-ups. He’s clean as far as LVPD IA is concerned. He transferred in from Phoenix into a detective slot after five years on the force there. Same thing in Phoenix. Nothing before that. The only thing I could find was an evaluation from his Captain that implied he used excessive force at times. I sent his information on to Jade. BTW, she’s not happy with you. Be careful, but I suppose I don’t need to tell you that.
Derek
I closed his email. It wasn’t very helpful. I had a feeling Detective Salazan’s record would be clean. I’m not sure what I was hoping for; an IA investigation, multiple shootings, a violent history, something. I should’ve been surprised when he was clean but I wasn’t.
If a person was going to survive in both the human world and the preternatural world, there were certain precautions that had to be taken. The first is keeping your nose clean. The preternatural world is violent and dangerous. Anything done in the human world needs to be beyond reproach. I could only hope Jade had more luck, something for me to sink my teeth into. My last hope was Everett. Maybe he would find something. If he didn’t lose him in the process . . . and that was a big if.
Jade’s six emails were staring back at me. It was time to suck it up and take my medicine. If I didn’t do it now, there would be hell to pay later. I double-clicked on the first message.
OMG! Where are you? Are you OK? I have so much to tell you! When are you coming home? What have you gotten into? Call me!
Two hours after that message was sent, there was another message from her. This one had copies of all Cordero Salazan’s employment records attached. I didn’t want to think too hard about where she’d gotten those copies.
Another three hours after that, Jade had his high school and college transcripts, his social security number and credit scores. The fourth email was another three hours after the last as she’d tried to track down any next of kin.
Hiya,
OK, so his wife Juliana is listed as dead but I can’t find a social security number for her. She was either an illegal or she doesn’t exist. Both parents are listed as dead, as well. No names. I’m tracking down his birth certificate now. I’ll let you know when I find something. J
I shoved my coffee away. It was cold. I knew why Detective Salazan’s wife didn’t have a social security number. The picture of Juliana was probably taken just before she died and back in 1848, long before social security numbers were even an idea. The trick was, how had she really died and how was he still alive? I’m pretty sure that she wasn’t hit by a drunk driver unless the drunk guy was driving a carriage.
The fifth email from Jade was close to six hours later which meant Jade had been up most of the night. She was like a pit bull with a bone when she had something gnawing at her brain. She couldn’t and wouldn’t stop until she uncovered everything. That’s why I loved her.
OK, I found your Cordero Salazan. He was born on August 15, 1976, in San Diego, California and died on August 18, 1976. Your SSN belongs to a dead child born to Carmelita and Miguel Salazan. I’ve contacted them and left a message. I’ll forward everything I get from them to you after I talk to them. This guy that’s supposedly Detective Salazan of LVPD, either isn’t or the Salazan’s buried the wrong baby. I’ll keep digging and let you know what I find. Gotta go, phone’s ringing. J
I let that information sink in for a minute. Both options were possible. That would make him about the right age but that picture of Juliana in his house and the pain I saw in his eyes nagged at me. It was more likely that Cordero Salazan wasn’t what he claimed. I knew it in my gut as if the universe had shifted and knocked everything into place. My gut was usually ri
ght so I followed it. I opened the last email from Jade. It had no subject line.
Dahlia,
I know you don’t want to hear any of this but I have a way to contact you now and, damn it, I’m going to say it. What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just take off like that without any concern for the rest of us.
If you’re coming back, tell me. If you’re not coming back, tell me that too. He’s better when there’s hope. He’s better when he thinks you’re just around the next corner. If you’re not coming back, it would be better for everyone if you would just tell me now so I can end this. I’ve already tracked you to within a three-block area of West Las Vegas. I’ve also found your family who live there, so if I were a betting woman . . . Ha! . . . I’d say you were staying with your cousin, Cadenza. If you’re not coming back, let me break it to them both cleanly. It would be better for everyone. We miss you. I miss you. They miss you. We all miss you. It’s just not the same.
I’m done yelling at you now. So whatever you’ve gotten yourself into, be careful. Jade
I knew she would find me and I knew I deserved everything she dished out, probably more. I clicked on the reply link and pointed the cursor into the empty text box. There was too much to say and too much I couldn’t explain.
I’ll be back . . . soon. D
I hit ‘send’, closed my email out and logged off. There was something else I had to do before I headed out to stir up some trouble. When all else fails, make them come to me. Grabbing the drop phone from the counter, I dialed the number that shouldn’t have been as familiar as it was and took a deep breath.
“Trevelyan Dean Construction. How can I help you?” a bright, cheery voice sang over the other end.
“Tamika?” I asked, surprised. I hadn’t imagined Dean would keep her on permanently. He was the guy who hadn’t even kept the office staffed before I took over for Jackson as Office Manager. After I killed him at the Manit.
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