Pack Justice (Nature of the Beast Book 1)

by RJ Blain

  “You should have hummed the Jaws theme.”

  “As a piece of friendly advice, never hum the Jaws theme when you’re approaching another lawyer. They don’t appreciate it for some reason.”

  “He looked ready to leap across the table and kill you, if I recall correctly.”

  I smirked at the memory. “He just knew he was about to get his ass handed to him in court, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was a terrible defense attorney.”

  “I still think you should watch that news report and try to land that hot little number. She’d be good for you.”

  “I never knew you were a matchmaker.”

  Kevin backed his SUV out of the driveway and headed in the direction of my house. “If you don’t want to take a chance on her, maybe you could introduce us?”

  My wolf and cheetah snarled in my head, and I clenched my teeth so I wouldn’t hiss at my real estate agent and reveal I wasn’t quite as neutral about Andrea Morgan as I was trying to pretend. “I’ll watch the video. Who knows? Maybe flowers will work on a woman like her.”

  “None of the cheap carnation shit, either. Roses or something exotic.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied in as dry of a tone as I could manage. “I trust you’ll at least let me shower before insisting I attempt to seduce one of California’s best defense attorneys?”

  “Oh ho, you must like her. You don’t toss compliments around like that for just anyone.”

  “You really are a fan of conspiracy theory number one, aren’t you?”

  “Hardcore fan. Invite me to the wedding.”

  I choked and spluttered. “Wedding?”

  “Maybe you should just skip the flowers and go straight for the engagement ring. Hell, I’ve got a few minutes. I’ll take you to pick one. It’ll be my thank you present for freeing me from that demented bitch I made the mistake of marrying.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose before remembering I had grime all over my hands. “How about I just start with thanking her and a cup of coffee? I’m pretty sure asking her to marry me for beating down a reporter falls under the creepy category.”

  “Sean, she smacked down a reporter for you on live television. Land her before she gets away.”

  “It’s still a bit creepy.”

  “Fine, just don’t forget to ask her to go for coffee after you’re done thanking her.”

  It was hard to keep my expression neutral when both my spirit beasts were clambering for me to voice a definitive claim over Andrea. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Good.”

  My street was blocked off by police when we arrived. Two thoughts passed through my head. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and held it until my lungs ached before releasing it. I cracked open an eye to watch Kevin. “Now what?”

  My real estate agent pulled over several driveways down from the blockade, turned on his blinkers, and put his SUV into park. “I don’t think you want to know.”

  I groaned, took my glasses off, and banged my forehead into the dashboard several times. “It rains, probably for the first time in months, and you’re seriously going to tell me my house burned down while I was shopping for a new house.”

  “Judging from the number of fire trucks and cruisers present, that’d be a pretty good guess. They’re parked in front of your place, and I ain’t seeing your house. You should be able to see it from here.”

  “Hey, I don’t suppose you’re willing to provide an alibi, are you?”

  “Consider it done. I’ll get you a list of the names and numbers of the agents we worked with today, too. I even have the seller’s agreement we signed and dated yesterday all ready for you.”

  “I put my copy in the fireproof safe at least.”

  “It gets even better.”

  “I don’t want to know. I just don’t want to know.” I banged my head into the dashboard again. “I think I’ve reached my limit for one day.”

  “The scumbag reporter behind conspiracy theory number two is harassing the cops at the barricade, and if my eyes aren’t deceiving me, it looks like the cute little attorney showed up along with the bottom feeders. I think she likes you.”

  If Captain Ramirez didn’t kill me for not telling her I was leaving the house, Andrea would. I sighed, sat up, put my glasses back on, and unbuckled my seatbelt. “If you get a parking ticket, I’ll pay for it, but I think I’m going to need that alibi in about half a minute.”

  “You got it. Your insurance company is just going to love this.”

  “They’re going to love the fact I paid extra for the right coverage, too.” I considered crawling into the back of the SUV and hiding under one of the seats. Instead, I opened the door and stepped out onto the curb.

  The light rain had been pleasantly chill in the morning, but as soon as I closed the door of Kevin’s SUV, the skies opened up and left me drenched in the time it took my real estate agent to circle his vehicle.

  “You needed the shower.”

  “I need a new life.” I trudged through the rain and headed to the line of cruisers, spitting so many curses Kevin laughed.

  As I feared, Captain Ramirez was present, and she was talking to one of the firemen. Andrea glared at the reporter, who was staring in the direction of what used to be my house.

  Shoving my hands into my jacket pockets, I slogged over towards Andrea.

  The temptation to blow in her ear was too much for me or my wolf to resist. With a squeal, she spun around. The way the rain plastered her blazer and blouse accented every last one of her curves.

  Her eyes were red, and they widened when she saw me. All the color fled from her face, leaving her a pasty gray. “Sean?”

  Captain Ramirez whirled towards me, and her eyes blazed yellow. “Mr. Scott.”

  While I wanted Andrea’s full attention, my wolf recoiled at the intensity of Ramirez’s fury, which added an acrid bite to her scent. I tensed, wondering if I could outrun her while wearing my wretched leg brace.

  Kevin intercepted the police captain, thrusting out his hand. “I’m Kevin Weston, Mr. Scott’s real estate agent and a former client of his.”

  My mouth dropped open at Kevin’s behavior, and I spluttered.

  While I had been ready to make my escape, Kevin showed no signs of fear, and Ramirez’s attention diverted from me to my real estate agent. They shook hands, and Ramirez’s eyes narrowed. “I remember you, Mr. Weston. Twenty stitches and a broken wrist.”

  I grimaced at the reminder of what Kevin’s wife had done to him.

  “You have a good memory, Captain. What’s going on here?”

  Ramirez’s attention once again turned to me. “An hour ago, we received a call about a fire at your home, Mr. Scott. It seems someone planted some rather potent explosives around the house and detonated them.”

  I winced. “Now I’m really glad I wasn’t home.”

  “We were under the impression you would be home today, Mr. Scott,” Captain Ramirez hissed. Taking a deep breath, the woman straightened. In a calmer voice, she said, “It’s a good thing you weren’t home, as I’m certain the blast would have killed you instantly. The building was flattened.”

  The ramifications of her words sank in, and I jerked in Andrea’s direction, taking in her pale complexion, red eyes, and rain-flattened hair and rumpled appearance. I took in a breath to catch her scent, but the smoke and presence of so many other smells confused my nose.

  “Sean Scott?” The reporter turned to me along with his cameraman.

  “No comment.” Old habits died hard, and I cursed myself for opening my mouth and confirming my identity. “I had a six o’clock appointment this morning with my real estate agent so we could view a property across the city.”

  “Mr. Scott, is it true Andrea Morgan conspired with your wife to murder you?” the reporter demanded, shoving his idiotically large microphone in my face.

  My wolf wanted to bite the man in the face in retaliation. At my side, Andrea stiffened, and not e
ven the rain and other scents could mask her dismay at the reporter’s question.

  I showed off my best courtroom smile and turned to the reporter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  Something about asking a reporter their name on television disconcerted them; his eyes widened before he caught himself and smoothed his expression. “I’m Lane Gardia of—”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Gardia,” I interrupted, keeping my smile in place while holding out my hand to shake with him. His grip was firm, and I was aware of the way he trembled, although I couldn’t tell if I made him nervous or if he was cold from the rain.

  I hoped it was a bit of both.

  The years of forcing myself to smile at the right moments during a trial served me well; I wanted to lash into the reporter for bothering Andrea. “It seems you have been rather alarmingly misinformed about my professional relationship with Miss Morgan. She’s an attorney of rare intellect, which makes her a challenge to face in court. Were you unaware of professional rivalries? I would think you, as a reporter, would be familiar with the concept. Unless, of course, you consider contemplating the murder of your fellow journalists acceptable professional behavior?”

  Any other day, I would have settled with a ‘no comment’ and left the reporter to stew, but there was something satisfying about initiating a verbal challenge with the man. Lane Gardia’s eyes bulged, and he spluttered.

  Andrea’s eyes likewise widened, and she clapped her hands over her mouth.

  “If you have a more professional question for me, Mr. Gardia, by all means, do ask. If you don’t, I need to have a discussion with the police about the matter of my property.”

  The cameraman made frantic gestures at the reporter, who mumbled a few words I couldn’t understand before making a hasty retreat. I glanced in the direction of the camera; it was still recording.

  It took every bit of my restraint to keep my hands to myself instead of grabbing Andrea, yanking her to me, and making it perfectly clear for those watching what I thought of her. Quivering from the effort, I closed the distance to Captain Ramirez, and I was aware of her nose flaring so she could breathe in my scent.

  I wondered if she could detect my mood in the rain with the haze of smoke hanging in the air. Was my fury as potent to her as it was to me? Did stress have a scent?

  I wanted to erupt, turn on the reporter, and rip him to shreds.

  “This way, Mr. Scott,” Captain Ramirez ordered, taking hold of my elbow in a firm grip. “Miss Morgan, if you would please come as well? I have some questions for you.”

  “Y-yes, ma’am,” Andrea stammered, and after a final glance at the reporter, she followed us.

  Whatever had destroyed my house had flung debris halfway down the block, and the men and women gathering evidence from the scene stopped and stared at me while I gaped at the smoking debris that had once been my life.

  Ramirez hadn’t been kidding. I had no doubt what would have happened to me if I hadn’t made the impulsive decision to sell my home and buy a new one. Some of the foundation remained intact, as did larger chunks of wall and roof. The few things that hadn’t been blasted to bits had been charred black.

  My legs shook, and my breaths came in rapid, shallow bursts. My intention to sell my home had been a deliberate decision to cut away that part of my life.

  Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to destroy everything and leave the ruins scattered around my yard and a sizable chunk of the neighborhood. The risk of someone coming after me and my family because of my work had always been in the back of my mind, but seeing the evidence of it strewn across the grass and street stole my breath.

  I didn’t care if they targeted Idette; I’d likely thank them if they got to her. The thought of someone discovering Andrea, however, frightened me even more than the realization I had dodged death thanks to an impulse.

  “Jesus Christ.” I had doubts even my safes had survived the destruction. “What the hell happened?”

  “We’ll talk about it at the station, Mr. Scott,” Ramirez replied, gesturing to one of the nearby cruisers. “Officer Albano, please escort Mr. Weston to his vehicle and make certain he reaches the station for questioning.”

  Dan and Marcello came at Ramirez’s call. Both of them stared at me for a long moment before turning their attention to Kevin, who snapped a salute in my direction and said, “I’ll see you at the station, Sean.”

  I should have said something—anything—but my tongue froze in my mouth and my mind went blank. It wasn’t until Captain Ramirez gave my elbow a gentle but firm tug I realized I was supposed to be heading for the cruiser waiting on the street.

  I made it to the car, but by the time I slid onto the back seat, I was shaking so much I fumbled with the seatbelt. Andrea twisted around to glance in the direction of the barricade, growled softly, and reached over me to take the buckle out of my hand.

  Ramirez turned in the driver’s seat, and her eyes were bright gold. “Did you forget you were supposed to tell us if you were going out, Sean?”

  I was aware I needed to say something, but my voice failed me. Andrea pressed the tips of her fingers to my cheek, and I closed my eyes at the warmth of her touch. A shudder ran through me. Her touch remained light and gentle as she worked her way to my throat. I heard the passenger front door open and close, and moments later, the cruiser rumbled to life.

  “Do I need to call for an EMT to meet us at the station, Andrea?”

  “Give me a minute.” Andrea pressed harder against my neck, and I relaxed into her touch. The feel of her skin on mine was all it took to soothe my wolf and make my cheetah purr, and I was as much willing prey to her as they. “Thank god, Sean. I was terrified you were in there.”

  Until I knew who else was in the car, I didn’t dare purr, but I gathered my wits enough to mumble, “Sorry. Got caught up in things. What happened?”

  “Our best guess is they accessed your property when the patrols shifted,” Ramirez reported, and I heard her sigh. “If they knew what they were doing, it probably didn’t take them more than twenty minutes to set up the explosives. Forensics will be a while figuring out what happened and setting up a timetable. The rain isn’t helping.”

  Andrea echoed Ramirez’s sigh. “You all right, Sean?”

  “I got attacked by a house.”

  “You what?” Andrea blurted, and her hand tensed on my throat. “A house did not attack you.”

  “It did. Hit me on the head and everything.” I lifted my hand to my hair and ran my fingers through it, grimacing as I found a mat. “Ah, shit. It bled.”

  “What? What are you talking about?” Andrea’s hand lifted away from my throat, and several moments later, she pressed close to me while she poked and prodded at the top of my head.

  I enjoyed every moment her warm body pressed close to mine. “Went to look at a property for sale with Kevin, and the roof collapsed from the rain. I was standing beneath it when it happened. A chunk of rotten wood, plaster, and who knows what else clocked me right on the top of the head.”

  A weak laugh worked its way out of Andrea’s throat, and I cracked open an eye to glance at her. Her eyes were watery, and when she caught me watching her, she pressed her nose against my neck. A shiver went through me, and I braced myself for what my next words would inevitably trigger. “I’ve earned the bad bite. Be gentle.”

  She clamped her teeth onto my throat and growled at me. Pain stabbed down my spine and I yowled but forced myself to sit still.

  “That… wasn’t gentle.”

  “You earned it,” Ramirez hissed.

  The pressure of Andrea’s teeth eased, and the tip of her tongue teased my skin, soothing the sting of her bite. “You did.”

  “I’m sorry. Oh. Kevin thinks I should be begging you to marry me, Andrea. I hear you flayed a reporter on my behalf on live television. I want to see the recording. Since it would be a little awkward if I opened with an engagement ring and a proposal, I thought I’d thank you and invite yo
u for coffee first. What do you think?”

  I recognized Alice’s snorted laughter from the front passenger seat. “I think he’s fine, Captain.”

  Andrea laughed, and her breath tickled my neck. “I’ve seen pictures of you buying the shit you believe is coffee, Mr. Scott. You’ll have to do better than shit coffee. Maybe I like this Kevin’s idea. A ring would mean everyone knows you’re mine and I’m yours.”

  “You’d have to buy me a ring, too, for that to work, Miss Morgan.”

  “Your house blew up. Move in with me?”

  I gasped, my eyes widening as I thought about her question. Both of my spirit beasts had opinions on the matter, and my wolf really liked the thought of denning with Andrea. My cheetah merely purred.

  “And you broke him. Good job, Andrea.”

  Ramirez cleared her throat. “Okay, peanut gallery. Behave yourselves. Get back to your side of the cruiser, Miss Morgan. Until we find out what is going on, I think it would be wise to encourage the belief you two are professional rivals and nothing more. Mr. Scott, I trust you’re aware of the formalities.”

  “I have a signed contract stating I was intending to sell my house, dated yesterday—and there were witnesses at the restaurant who can vouch I was with Mr. Weston. Unfortunately, my copy was in my house. I spent all morning house hunting. Why, exactly, would I want to blow up my house? Hey, do you think a fireproof safe or three could have survived the explosion?”

  “I’ll tell the forensics people to look out for them.” Alice pulled out her phone and dialed a number. On the second ring, I heard Marcello answer. “Ask the crew going through the debris to look for three fireproof safes. They may have evidence inside.”

  Ramirez sighed. “Andrea, if you break down, you will do so in my office where no one can see you. Sean, you can break down wherever the fuck you want, just don’t do it on Andrea’s shoulder. You two might be a mated pair, but we don’t want people knowing that. Get your game faces on. If you want to flirt, do so via scowling and posturing. You’ve only had a decade of practice at it. Don’t screw this up. Let’s not make Andrea a target, too.”