Charming (A Seven World Novel)

by Dannika Dark

  His question was answered almost immediately when she smoothed her hands across his chest and made him shiver. Her lips grazed over his nipple, tongue circling around the hardened tip.

  “I’m serious. It’s casual and I like it,” she said. “I’d really like to see this behind me on a sofa while we’re watching TV, so make that happen. Eating Chinese food and cuddling can be just as sexy as exotic oils and our naked bodies pressed together. Well… not quite the same, but you’ll see what I mean.”

  He arched his brow. “Perhaps you can plan our next date while I retrieve the laptop for your research.”

  “Swell. I hope you have a Cracker Barrel around here, because not only do I love their chicken and dumplings, but I could live in their gift shop. Buy me some peanut brittle and I’ll be your girl.”

  He circled his arms about her waist. “I would also like to know what you sleep in.”

  “First of all, I don’t have my usual clothes with me. Secondly, I don’t go all the way on the first date.”

  A smile hovered on his lips. “And what would you call last night?”

  Her soft lips pressed against his, sable eyes looking up at him. “Definitely not a date.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “You wouldn’t happen to have any french toast, would you?”

  Prince smirked and opened the door. “I think I can make that happen. How does bacon on the side sound?”

  Kat licked her lip seductively. “Yummy.”

  ***

  Kat reviewed the data on the flash drive three times, hoping some scrap of information would let her uncover where Vlad was keeping Nadia and her father. Yet the only thing she found was one disgusting transaction after another.

  She’d eaten two helpings of french toast and six pieces of bacon. The man brought her maple bacon. Kat was pretty sure if she was ever on death row, her last meal would probably be ten pounds of maple bacon. She had a sneaking suspicion that Prince hadn’t cooked it, but his shortcomings were forgiven the moment he asked if it was to her satisfaction. The rich timbre of his voice made her melt like chocolate over a fire, as did the shoulder rub.

  And when he fed her a piece of bacon.

  An hour later, Prince called Russell into the room for an update.

  Russell hiccupped, finishing off a piece of bacon. “Vlad’s house was empty, the motor gone, and the stove still warm by the time we’d gotten there last night.” Russell pulled Prince toward the door behind her and attempted to lower his voice. Kat hung on his every word while she pretended to work, giving him the respect of privacy with his packmate.

  “A basement?” Prince asked in disbelief. “I didn’t see a basement when I was there.”

  “Aye. Someone’s been living down there a long time. It was hidden and soundproofed behind a faux bookshelf. There were bits of stale bread and hair on the floor… and fresh blood.”

  Kat froze as they continued their conversation. While they were behind her, she was skilled at visualizing positions and body movements based on sounds. When she heard a rustle of fabric as someone turned, she continued scribbling nonsense on paper.

  “What kind of hair?” Prince continued.

  “A few different kinds, actually. Traces of wolf hair all over, but they also found a long strand.”

  “Blond?”

  “Aye. Unless he’s traversing in the woods with a Shifter on a leash, my guess is he’s not gone too far. We’re scanning motels for recent check-ins, but that takes a wee bit of time.”

  “Vlad will scheme something before he makes contact. We need to locate him fast.”

  Kat listened to Russell scratching the whiskers on his face. “That’s a problem. One I suppose you can’t help unless we find his rabbit hole.”

  “Did you get any sleep?”

  Kat peered over her shoulder at Russell as he rubbed his face, eyes swollen with exhaustion. “No, there’s no sense in it now, sire. We got a few false leads from the bulletin; a stiff reward always does that. Not to worry. His motor will be easy to spot with the front-end damage. We have men ready to move.”

  “My men?”

  “Some of them, aye. The rest owe me a favor… or a pint.”

  The door closed and strong hands cupped her shoulders. Prince placed a quick kiss on her temple and then lightly rested his chin on top of her head. “What are we looking at?”

  She reached up and held his hands. “A whole lotta nothing. At least, not where my family’s concerned. I did find a list of buyers he’s worked with, so I’m e-mailing it to my contact in the higher authority. I left all my equipment behind to chase Vlad, so thanks for lending me your laptop.”

  “All that is mine is yours.”

  He straightened and circled around her, sitting on the edge of his desk. Prince still hadn’t gotten dressed, and as far as Kat was concerned, he could waltz around in his black pajama bottoms forever.

  “Is this how you spoil all your women?” She twisted her chair back and forth in short semicircles.

  “If this is your indirect way of asking me about my past, I’ll readily admit I’ve never been mated.”

  “Never crossed your mind in seven hundred years of fornication?”

  He blinked rapidly and then averted his eyes. “It crosses my mind frequently, but I was raised with expectations of continuing my bloodline with royalty. There are few purebloods who survived the great wars. Only once had I considered settling for less, although there were circumstances in that situation that made her suitable.”

  Kat pursed her lips and then crossed her legs. “Suitable,” she said, letting the unpleasant word play on her tongue.

  “Mating with another pureblood is an obligation I have to my ancestors, one that will allow a dying line to continue. Tell me what you’re thinking?”

  Kat was never one to censor her thoughts. “I’m just thinking how convenient it is for you that I came along. What if I wasn’t from royal blood and was just like any other woman?”

  “I cannot say what I would do in hypothetical situations,” he replied. “But I can assure you it’s not your bloodline that intrigues me. You also forget that it’s not as if I don’t have a choice.”

  Her brow arched. “Nadia? You might want to extract your foot from your mouth, because implying I should be grateful that you chose me over my twin sister doesn’t win you any brownie points. Especially if you think I’m easier to claim, because despite Nadia’s fussy standards, I’m the one who’s not easily swayed by a Packmaster’s power and money.”

  Prince stepped in front of her and leaned down, gripping the armrests of her leather chair. “You are the obvious choice. When I look at her, the more I see your differences, not your similarities. What you didn’t allow me to say was that I have a lot to offer a woman, and that gives me options. Perhaps Nadia would be the preferred choice of those I’m surrounded by, but I also have the choice to reject.”

  Kat snorted. “You don’t intimidate me, Charming.” She poked his bare chest with her finger and pushed him back. “Just remember that the choice isn’t just yours, and I’m not a woman easily wooed by—”

  “Exotic oils and primal sex?”

  “I was going to say yummy soup and a comfy bed, but that too.” She twisted her hair back and sighed, distracted once again by thoughts of Vlad.

  Prince leaned back against the desk, folding his arms. “Is this what a day in your life is like?”

  She lifted her shoulder in a shrug.

  He nodded, a look of admiration shining in his eyes. Alpha men were attracted to strong women, regardless if those women were alphas or not. Kat had forgotten what it was like to have a man look at her that way—with affection and admiration. She hadn’t felt that kind of acceptance since her father’s disappearance.

  She was a little put off by his cocky attitude, behaving as if she was an easy catch. Maybe she needed to make the chase a little harder so she didn’t look like the fish that jumped into the fisherman’s boat. Then again, this wasn’t the
time to be selfishly planning her future; Nadia needed her.

  “Why don’t you have tattoos like the other Packmasters?” she asked.

  Most had identifying tattoos of some kind. In a busy town full of Shifters, you might not know all the Packmasters personally, but you’d recognize their markings from hearing about them.

  He waved his hand. “These young pups don’t understand the significance of inking their bodies. I don’t require a mark to establish my power. And aside from that, those who do not know me will have heard about my strange eye color.”

  “Your taste in furniture is stranger than your eye color.” She tugged the collar of her shirt, revealing her bare shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about getting a tribal marking on my arm. What do you think?”

  His lips thinned. “I think you say things to get a rise out of me.”

  “I didn’t say much when I got a rise out of you last night.”

  He turned away, and she admired the shape of his back and how it angled down from his broad shoulders. She remembered what it felt like to run her fingers over those lines, the feel of his muscles rippling as he claimed her.

  “I’m going to enjoy pursuing you immensely,” he said almost to himself.

  The chair squeaked when Kat stood up. She circled her right arm about his waist as they strolled toward the open balcony doors. “You’re old enough to be my father.”

  He caught her left wrist and, in a quick motion, swung her in front of him. “I age remarkably well.”

  “Tell me about the view from the pyramids,” she teased, smiling up at him.

  “Someday you will be as old as I am, brave wolf.”

  She backed up a step, a cool breeze at her back. “Yes, but I’ll have less interesting things to discuss in comparison to all your stories. You can entertain guests with the invention of electricity or the discovery of America. I’ll get to enlighten them on fast food, television, and bacon ice cream.”

  His nose wrinkled.

  Kat tapped it with her finger. “Never had bacon in your ice cream? Bucket list!” She moved away in search of her shoes.

  “I’m not familiar with that phrase.”

  “It’s a list of things you want to do before you die.”

  “Hmm,” he said, eyes brimming with curiosity. “Then why call it a bucket?”

  “As in kicking the bucket. Boy, you really need to get out more. People say TV kills your brain cells, but it also dials you in to the twenty-first century.” Kat peered underneath the bed and found her shoes, quickly shoving her feet into them without socks. “I need to get my boots out of my car. I’d rather get blisters than trip all over these laces. By the way, thanks for doing my laundry, but you didn’t have to give me all that,” she said, motioning toward a pile of clothes on a table between the bed and long mirror in the corner.

  It wasn’t uncommon for her to wear the same clothes for days in a row because of her job. The sniff test worked fine, and most people she associated with in bars couldn’t smell anything except the stench of cigarettes or their own cologne, so having someone wash her clothes and buy her new ones seemed excessive.

  But thoughtful.

  An urgent knock sounded at the door. Prince rushed to answer, his hair still loose and unkempt.

  Russell lowered a pear from his mouth and chewed twice before speaking. “Perhaps you should get dressed,” he suggested with a flash of humor in his eyes. “You have a visitor downstairs, and I don’t think you’ll impress him with your fancy trousers.”

  Chapter 12

  Prince led Reno Cole, Austin’s second-in-command, into a private room and closed the door. “Can I offer you a drink?”

  “How ’bout a cold one?” Reno rubbed his jaw, his cheeks and nose red from riding his motorcycle in the sun without a helmet.

  Prince eyed his liquor cabinet full of expensive alcohol. He didn’t stock beer because most guests would find it insulting for a Packmaster of his caliber to serve them cheap alcohol.

  Reno patted his shoulder and chuckled. “Some of that whiskey’s fine.”

  The amber liquid splashed in a crystal glass, and he swirled it before handing it to Reno.

  The Weston pack lived in the territory, and Prince held a strong alliance with the newly formed pack. A tight bond existed within their family that made them strong and dependable allies despite the modest size of their pack.

  “Everything is going well?” Prince inquired, taking a seat in the chair across from Reno.

  “Dandy,” Reno replied, sipping on his stiff drink.

  Prince often used this quaint, less formal room for men who liked a good cigar and a glass of brandy. Reno wouldn’t be impressed with his gold room, and it might have made him uncomfortable. Prince had never reached out to another pack for assistance, so he wanted this meeting to go smoothly.

  “I’ve got to admit, you’re the last man I expected to call me with a job. Respectfully, of course,” Reno said, lifting his glass.

  “Were you able to uncover any information on Vladimir Romanov?”

  Reno frowned and widened his legs, tapping his boot heel on the floor. He set down his glass on the table to his left and began spinning a small globe that sat atop it. “Nothing came up on my radar showing any recent trades—at least not using that name.”

  “He’s used an alias before, and that could be a problem.” Prince traced his finger along his brow. “I don’t think he’s here for business. I believe this is a holding station of some kind—perhaps where he keeps his captives while locating a buyer. He maintains a home outside city limits, one with a hidden basement.”

  Reno’s lips peeled back and his gaze drifted away. “Men like that are the reason why I love my fucking job. I can’t help you if he’s not trading around here; he might as well be a ghost.” After another sip of whiskey, Reno’s gravelly voice smoothed out. “How’s that pretty blonde doing—the one you offered a ride to? I couldn’t help but notice you noticing her,” he said with a chuckle. “She would have been a handful for Denver, but I get the feeling a woman like that would be right up your alley.”

  “The man you’re looking for took her.”

  With lightning speed, Reno shot up to his feet and clenched his fists. The tension was palpable.

  A knot twisted in Prince’s stomach, but he maintained composure. “I’m doing everything in my power to find her, and I hope you’ll continue to offer your assistance.”

  Reno’s voice became low and dangerous. “I ain’t gonna sugarcoat it for you. If I find him, I’m going to put him in the ground.”

  Prince admired the wolf before him. Reno didn’t know Nadia, but a noble man didn’t need a personal connection to take a stand for what was right.

  “No need,” Prince said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’ll be doing the honors myself.”

  “I don’t blame you. If someone took my woman—”

  The doorknob jiggled, and both men turned to look.

  “A person could get lost in this place,” Kat said, out of breath, inviting herself in with a dramatic swing in her step. “It’s like a labyrinth. Hey, did you ever see that movie? I always wanted to be Sarah, but what was the deal with Jareth? A formidable goblin king and the best he can do is white spandex and puffy shirts? Fear me, love me, do as I say?” She laughed. “If any man ever said that to me, I’d stuff him in a mailbox and return to sender. But that’s just my opinion.”

  Prince rose to his feet, his eyes drinking in the way she glided across the room in his direction.

  Reno’s expression altered as he stared at Kat’s familiar features and then glared at Prince. “Are you messing with me?”

  Prince curved his arm around Kat when she stood beside him, then began with the introductions. “This is my lover, Katarina Kozlov.” He refrained from smiling when he felt her hand claw at his back, apparently shocked by his open declaration. Or more precisely, his claim.

  Reno folded his arms and gave Kat a hard look.

  “Kat, this
is Reno Cole. He’s the private investigator I was telling you about.”

  An awkward silence hung in the room, and Prince didn’t like the way Reno was staring at her.

  “You look like the blonde,” Reno said.

  Kat stepped away from Prince and lifted her chin, hands on her hips. “She’s my twin.”

  He studied her a moment longer and then smiled. “Yeah, I’m a little familiar with the twin situation. You sure as hell don’t dress alike.”

  “I’m the one with style,” she quipped.

  When Reno’s eyes widened at Kat, Prince followed the direction of his gaze.

  “Kat!” Prince gripped the end of her shirt and tugged it back down.

  “That’s a hell of a custom job,” Reno said under his breath.

  Prince knew she was just showing off the holster for her dagger, but jealousy bloomed unexpectedly.

  Kat touched her shirt. “It’s a tight fit with expandable elastic—quality material, not the cheap stuff. So when I shift, it stays securely on my wolf and I never have to worry about losing a weapon.”

  “Nice. Think your guy can make me one for my gun?”

  “Maybe.” A wistful look crossed her expression. “I’m thinking about settling down here in Austin and getting into your line of work. Just an idea I’m tossing around since working for the higher authority can be demanding.”

  Reno’s eyes flashed at Prince. “She’s a bounty hunter?”

  Prince realized he was going to be hearing that question a lot, and his first instinct was to lift his chin and maintain eye contact. He was proud of his chosen female.

  A slow chuckle rose in Reno and he patted Prince on the shoulder. “You’ve got bigger balls than I gave you credit for. Hope you’re up for the task. Men like us aren’t easy to live with.”

  Kat chortled. “What gave my gender away—my thick bed of chest hair?”

  A bloom of red touched Reno’s face, and he rubbed his clean-shaven jaw. “I meant women too. Men and women. Uh… Just an expression.”

  Kat’s smile waned. “Are you here to help find my sister?”