by Tina Gower
Ian shrugged out of his shirt. “Never thought of it before. I always assumed when victims say they could hear their attacker breathing that it was a figure of speech.”
Lipski laughed. “You’re an endless source of entertainment, you know that Beck?”
He grunted.
“Hey, Ian?” Wu called from outside the locker room.
“Back here!” Lipski yelled out.
Ian flinched, covering his ears at the sound of his partner’s deep, rough voice vibrating off each metal locker. Lipski could modulate his voice. Make it louder, softer, and wrap it in camouflage so Ian couldn’t hear him.
Lipski punched Ian’s arm. “Shit, sorry. Wasn’t thinking.”
“Whatever.” Ian threw his street clothes into the locker and headed back toward the break room, leaving his jacket out for whatever patrol they’d get put on. Likely downtown. Some kind of Yule festival.
But before he could leave the locker room, Wu came in and blocked his path. Ian crossed his arms, meeting Wu’s challenging gaze. Not like he was in a hurry, with an hour still left until his shift, but he didn’t like being trapped. “I tossed it," he said. "You don’t have to worry.”
Wu’s eyes went wide. His heart rate increased. “This isn’t about that.”
“It’s going to be about that until I know for sure you’re leaving her alone. Are you? Leaving her alone?”
“Of course. I don’t want to hurt her. You understand.”
Understand? Ian flinched as if Wu knew his own dirty secret. If Kate knew the extent of what he'd been doing, would she be concerned?
He stepped away from Wu, keeping his voice low. “Just don’t do something that would jeopardize your career. Don’t do anything we should book you for—things I can’t hide in a dumpster.”
Wu’s face went flush. He lowered his gaze, and Ian pushed past him into the break room, busying himself with the coffee maker. Ian shouldn’t talk to Wu like an equal, Wu was a detective. Ian was a beat cop. But Wu had been hired the same time as Ian and they’d never changed their dynamic.
He was being deliberately hard on the guy. One of his dads was a counselor, so he knew all about the psychology of it. Ian hated the similarities between his situation and Wu’s. Wu’d looked into his ex-wife's boyfriend as a precaution because he wanted to protect her. It was the same reason Ian had found out everything he could about Kate’s ex, Kyle Dillingham.
He was sure he'd find more ex-boyfriends if he dug a little deeper—which he wouldn’t—but this one was in her file, because he was the reason she’d been demoted. Ian's fists clinched at the thought of that asshole. What kind of jerk does that? Turns their girlfriend in, ex or not, for having an office relationship?
Especially since he'd been the other party in the relationship. Kate and Kyle. K and K. Ugh, they even had the same first letter in their names. How horrible-cute of them.
It wasn’t exactly a secret that officers ran the names of people they knew to be sure they didn’t have a record. Wu had access to a werewolf, and all he'd done was use Ian to go the extra step. Sniff for any crime that might not be listed. It was a thin line, though, between protective curiosity and stalking.
Lipski came out and leaned against the opening between the break room and locker room.
Wu stepped away from him. “You know I feel like a shithead about that," he said to Ian. "I wasn’t trying to trick you into anything. I should have said it was personal, so you could decide for yourself. Maybe even talk me out of it.”
Ian poured himself come coffee. He wouldn’t have talked Wu out of it: that was the problem. He let the coffee burn his tongue. “You got something else?”
“No, just a lame apology.”
“Fine. You can make it up to me by letting us in on your case. The one with the coin.”
Lipski pushed himself from the wall. “What case?”
“Robbery.” Wu and Ian answered together.
Wu shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“We have someone in custody whose scent I picked up on that coin.”
Wu’s head tilted back, and his eyebrows shot up to his bangs.
Lipski’s eyes, though, narrowed. “Beck, you’re already in high water from taking on a case that shouldn’t have been yours. Don’t mess around.”
“I’m not taking Wu’s case.” He grinned. “I’m helping. What fun is being everyone’s K-9 unit if I don’t get some of the action?”
“What’s wrong with him?" Wu muttered to Lipski. "Why’s he happy?”
The big man whispered something back, but he camouflaged it so Ian couldn't hear. Probably some reference to his sex life.
He ground his teeth. “Fine. Never mind.” He swallowed more too-hot coffee and hissed against the pain. “It’s Liza Hamilton.”
Lipski leaned forward. “The witch you brought in on that weather oracle case?”
“His name is Jack Roberts,” Ian said, but kept his gaze on Wu for a reaction.
But Wu didn’t seem to know who Liza was. Or Jack.
Lipski filled him in. “Beck busted a big case a few days ago. A little witch off her rails. She planned on taking down the Angel’s Peak prediction net. Nearly succeeded.”
“She had to have had help.” Ian’s muscles tightened. His gut told him there was something bigger, even though they didn’t have any evidence. “We brought in a few other accessories, but nobody that could have pulled this off. The operation is bigger. I can feel it.”
Wu looked confused. “But neither of you can sign your name onto something that big.” Then the confusion lifted like a fog. “Oh, I see.” He pinned Ian and Hank with a look. “This is why you need to pass the detective exam, so you don’t drag us innocents into your mayhem.”
Ian frowned. He’d failed the exam five times. Maybe a sixth—he hadn't gotten the results back yet. Wouldn't for a few months. Hank had probably passed. He’d been in a good mood ever since that damn test.
Lipski smiled, inching in closer to Wu. “But it’s not a case that's up for grabs. It’s yours. If I heard correctly, Beck did you one of his famous favors. One he shouldn’t have.”
Ian had a habit of doing favors, and Lipski knew it. That was how Ian got so many people on his side. Take a few shifts here, help a co-worker with some paperwork there—call it banking good deeds for when he got moody and people didn’t want to be around him. At least they’d remember that he wasn’t always so bad. Except he didn’t do things for people like what he did for Wu. Not anymore. Too tempting. His wolf DNA enjoyed that kind of hunt, and if he let it one thing would lead to another until it was hard to see right from wrong.
“I’ll pull her in for questioning.” Wu glanced at Ian. “You can have a crack at her.”
“And me,” Lipski added.
Wu waited for Ian to object. He didn’t.
“All right. I’ll send you a text with the details.” He grabbed a sack of cookies from the snack basket and left. “Later.”
Lipski held out his knuckles for a fist bump. Ian tapped his fist against his partners without hesitation. For all his lug-headedness and dick-like behavior, Lipski was actually a pretty good cop. And a very good friend. Well, somewhere under all that thick troll/gremlin skin and smart-ass comments was a friend. Someone who kept Ian in line.
Speaking of. “We got an hour. I’ll call my dads.”
“Sure, kid. I’ll meet you by the car.”
Three arrests, one domestic violence call, twenty-seven drunk and disorderly charges, eight noise violations, and a missing woman with dementia found running naked in the Yule Festival later, Hank and Ian had finished their shift. Pretty tame for a weeknight. Practically boring.
After they dropped the last charge into the drunk tank and hosed the vomit from the back of the patrol car, Ian volunteered to return the patrol car to the lot and check it in for a thorough shampooing and disinfecting. Lipski gladly drove off to home to his wife and kids.
Ian considered staying on
for another shift. It would keep him from driving by Kate’s apartment. Except he was too—he didn’t know—too something. Edgy? No. Muggy? No. He didn’t know what, but it was best not to mix it with work in case he was tempted to do something that got him in trouble with the brass. He needed to lay low and show them he could handle himself. Maybe he’d work a few extra hours until he tired himself out.
Like a rainbow through the clouds, a call crackled through his radio. Back-up needed at the hospital. He responded, letting dispatch know he’d head over. Good thing, too: they were short on police officers this time of night. He’d save someone on-call from having to get out of their nice warm bed and groggily drive over to assist.
He tossed his hat in the passenger seat and headed over to the hospital. His own car, since the smell in the patrol car made him gag. When he arrived, a man who’d gotten a little testy with the officer after a DUI arrest sat handcuffed in the back seat of a squad car, screaming out obscenities. Several ambulances were unloading victims.
Morale was standing at the entrance to the emergency room. “Seventy percent chance he’d hit another car after drinking tonight and the guy still goes out on the road. And it had to be teenagers sneaking out of the house for a joy ride after the Yule festival that he hit. Two dead on the scene.”
“Seven hells.” Ian glared at the man cursing from the car.
“I’m going to drive this asshole to his new palace in lock up. I need someone to talk with the witnesses.”
Ian pulled out his notebook and tablet and jogged into the emergency room, interviewing whoever was conscious and not in need of immediate medical attention. He uploaded the information to Morale’s case file number.
Then he was bored again. He wandered the hallways until he found himself near the Intensive Care Unit. It had only been a few days since he’d been here last. Friends and family only, the nurses had told him and Kate when they showed up the next morning, so they’d adhered to hospital rules even though he could have flashed his badge. Afraid that their presence would interrupt Jack's care in some way, Kate had talked him out of it. Kate liked to play by the rules.
Overwhelmed with the urge to show up at her apartment, he checked his watch. Two in the morning. He couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t climb through her window in the middle of the night. So he’d sit with Jack instead. He pressed the button and announced himself to the nurse. She buzzed him through, and he went right to Jack’s room. Jack hadn’t woken yet, but his vitals were looking better and better each day. He called in every morning to check on Jack’s progress and text the info to Kate. She’d respond with a simple thank you, but he looked forward to the excuse each morning to communicate with her.
“Officer.” A nurse leaned over the counter to get his attention with a whisper.
He turned. “Yes, ma’am.”
“His niece is still in there.”
“His niece?” He tipped his head in the direction of the room, getting a whiff of a familiar scent. Vanilla and coconut. Jack’s niece? Not a chance. The idea of what lies Kate had had to tell to get in to visit Jack amused him. He grinned. “It’s all right. I’m here to take her home. She’s a friend of mine.”
The nurse hesitated, glancing from the room to Ian.
“It will just be a moment…” he checked her name tag, “Susan.”
She gave him a flat smile. He had a few minutes tops before her supervisor pulled the big guns on him. Nurses were the devil. Not even cops could break them.
He stepped into the room, stopping before the curtain drawn to give Jack privacy from his brain trauma roommate, Kurt, who'd been in a motorcycle accident. The two machines beeped and hissed as if they were dueling each other over who could keep their patient alive better.
Under it all he could hear the faint rise and fall of Kate’s breath. Her scent filled his nostrils. He eased the curtain aside, getting a glimpse of her body curled into one of those plastic leather half-sofas. She’d scooted in right next to Jack's bed. Her head lay across the rail, with her neck at an uncomfortable skew, and her arm snaked through the metal. Close to Jack, but not touching. Another rule: don’t touch the oracles. It could throw off their visions.
Not that it mattered for Kate. She was fateless. In theory, oracles couldn’t get a read on her, whether they touched her or not.
She’d taken off her work blazer and folded it neatly at the foot of the bed. Her cream blouse puckered slightly because of her odd, twisted angle. Ian wanted to stare at her, watch her sleep, but that was not only creepy, it also meant more of a chance to insure the wrath of Nurse I’m-Watching-You. He gently lifted her by the shoulders.
Her lungs filled with air. Her hand flew up to cover her face. “What? Jack?”
“No. Becker.”
She squinted. An angry red line ran across her face where it had rested on the bed rail. “Becker?”
“Here to take you home.”
She blinked, feeling for her things. He handed her blazer over. “What time is it?”
“Late.”
“Oh.” She wobbled when she stood.
Her purse banged on the side of the fake leather seat, earning them a glare from the nurse’s station. Kate attempted another step, but her ankle twisted and she stumbled. Ian caught her by the waist and slung an arm over her shoulders to guide her.
She took several steps on unsure footing and then rested her hand on his chest, along with her head. “I’m glad you’re here. How did you know?”
“I didn’t.”
He grimaced because maybe he had. Maybe that’s what had lead him to wander the hallways when he should have gone home. Or maybe it was just chance they were both in the same building at the same time.
Yeah, right.
She woke up a little more as they walked out of the hospital and to his car. He folded her into the car and clicked the seat belt in place.
She smiled, her eyes already closing again. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yeah.” He looked at her a little longer than he’d intended. “I did.”
She fell asleep on the way to her apartment. He sat in the car for several minutes, wondering if waking her would be the right and noble thing to do. She could walk to her room under her own power. Say good night to him at the door.
“Kate?” he poked her arm. “Um.” He folded his finger back into his fist and pounded the wheel. Shit. He’d need to carry her. Waking her seemed like a dick move. She’d said she had trouble sleeping. He knew how that felt all too well. Once you got to sleep it was hard to stay asleep.
He cleared his throat and hopped out of the car before he changed his mind. He fought the seat belt to release her from its hold and with a one-two he hefted her into his arms.
Fuck, she was heavy all relaxed like this. Her head rolled back and he nudged his arm to get it to fall onto his chest. She’d made him promise this pack thing wasn’t sexual, but even if a casual observer wouldn't think this at all romantic, it felt intimate. He marched up the stairs, taking two at a time. It was a workout, but it took his mind off forbidden thoughts—like how kissable Kate’s lips were right now, all puffed with sleep.
Eyes straight ahead. He wouldn’t think about her mouth. At the top of the stairs he realized: the wards. Shit.
He faced her door as if it were an enemy that needed to be knocked down. There was no way he’d be able to climb the tree with her in his arms.
“You again.” Kate’s cousin rasped from the left. He jolted, nearly dropping Kate. “The window, wolf.”
He peered through Kate’s window. It was open, the blinds separated slightly where the cousin’s eyes glared out at him.
“What are you doing in Kate’s apartment?” he asked.
“I called her like ten times. I couldn’t find her almond butter.”
“So you hung out on her couch?”
She rolled her eyes. “No. She didn’t come home. Kate is a homebody; she always comes home. You should have called me if you were keeping her out l
ate.”
“You should have called me when she didn't show. I just found her at the hospital.”
“The hospital? Is she okay?” The cousin scrambled off the couch and the door swung open.
"She's fine," he said. "She was visiting Jack. She must have lost track of time."
“Thank goddess for that. But come in, come in.”
He hesitated at the entry, remembering his last visit.
“The wards lower when you’re invited, remember?”
With careful steps, he tiptoed through the door. Nothing terrible happened. Just the faint scent of magic. His eyes watered, a sneeze stuck in his sinuses, and his throat scratched, but it all faded after he got through the door. He took Kate straight to her bed, placing her in the center and tugging a sheet over her. Then he about-faced and headed back out. The burn in his gut willing him to crawl in with her. He couldn’t. Maybe it was good the cousin was here. She would keep him honest.
He covered his mouth through the wards this time and was about to jog down the steps when a firm hand caught his elbow.
“Where the hells do you think you’re going?” The cousin. Again.
He bared his teeth and she dropped his arm like a hot potato. “I have work to do.”
“Why were you at the hospital with Kate?”
“I wasn't. I was there on a call.”
“So you two just happened to run into each other.”
He gripped the rail. “Yes.”
“I get it.” She crossed her arms. “You think I’m stupid.” She poked her finger into his chest. “Last night you crawled through her window. This morning, her room stank of wolf marking.”
“I wouldn’t…I didn’t—”
Had he?
“I know wolves do it on instinct. Protection, right? It’s not urine. It comes out of your pores when you sweat or something?”
Becker blinked. Was it instinctive? He didn’t know.
She poked him again. “Listen, wolf, you don’t like witches? Well guess what, we don’t like you. But I’m willing to give you a chance, 'cause you seem—I don’t know—honest?”
