“Then give her a few more days. If nothing’s changed, we’ll deal with it.”
It didn’t make me feel any better, but at least it was a more definite plan. I owed it to my mate to let her heal; but come hell or high water, I wouldn’t wait any longer than a week. If something was wrong with her, it would become my number one priority to resolve it.
“So, tell me what to expect when we find Morgan?” I couldn’t dwell on problems at home. Divided attention when dealing with black magic always ended in disaster, and there was no way I wanted to face the rogue witch unprepared.
“We’ll split up when we reach the club, you go in through the front and I’ll enter through the back. Keep to the sides and see if you can spot her. Don’t approach her, though. Leave that to me.” Devlin was all business, now.
“Don’t you think it’s a little strange that she’s killed someone and instead of fleeing, she’s partying? I don’t know much about her, but she doesn’t seem like a fool.” It didn’t make sense. If I were the murder-type, I’d be dust in the wind, making it impossible for anyone to find me.
“That’s my thinking, too, but the source was reliable. They’ve given me a lot of tips throughout the years and each one has panned out. Anyway, Morgan might not be the one who committed the crime, but she’ll know who did. I called Vivien on the way to your house and she isn’t familiar with many witches who delve in the darker magic. She said it’s a real risk when you stain your soul and powers that way. If Morgan is involved some way, I’m going to find out how.”
“Okay, then, I’ll follow your lead. How dangerous will she be?” I knew I wasn’t the only one wondering what kind of fallout could happen if this backfired. Humans populated a lot of these nightclubs, drawn to the energy and vibe of the atmosphere, without realizing who and what they were bumping elbows with.
From what I’d heard, via council meetings and Devlin, it was a tenuous situation that needed constant vigilance– keeping the existence of supernaturals hidden. Every now and then there were slip-ups that required a discreet cover-up, memories wiped and evidence removed, but it was a profitable business. As long as club owners promised to tow the line, they were permitted to keep their venues open.
I’d never seen the need to go to such places. To me, it seemed more trouble than it was worth.
“I can’t be completely certain, but I doubt she’ll be packing any spells. If anything, she’s more likely to be carrying some kind of weapon, something to help her get in and out if confronted. So keep an eye out for a gun or knife.”
“But still be cautious?”
“Still be cautious,” Devlin agreed.
“Then let’s go get us a witch,” I smiled, the restlessness from before making way for excitement. I hoped that this would be uneventful and that I was simply along for the ride.
But, just in case, I reached for my wolf, proud to feel his eagerness to help.
I might not feel in control of what was happening with my wife, but this . . . this I could handle.
****
It was almost anti-climatic.
I’d almost reached the back corner booth where Morgan was sitting when she’d spotted me. There was a mad scramble to disappear onto the darkened dance floor—bodies bumping and grinding to the steady techno beat, but she’d miscalculated her escape route. Turning to flee from me, Morgan had slammed right into Devlin’s chest, promptly causing her to stumble.
In one slick move that resembled many of the lovers’ embraces scattered throughout the club, he had her under his control and headed toward the side exit. It was over before it really started and I had to admit . . . I was a little disappointed.
The lack of fighting or struggle was soon forgotten once I heard the mouth on the small brunette. Outside, Morgan tried kicking her way out of Devlin’s grip, but the handcuffs he clicked into place around her wrists settled the matter. All that was left was the descriptive and imaginative threats she threw at him—each one so impressive she’d even give Daniel a run for his money.
Devlin took it all in stride, not even flinching when she warned him she’d castrate him where he stood the moment he released her. He simply led her to the truck, strapped her into the back with thick canvas restraints, and calmly said if she didn’t quiet down, he’d gag her.
I didn’t know whether it was the tirade that had exhausted her or that he’d actually intimidated her, but Morgan glared at him menacingly before shutting up. Not trusting the silence, I sat sideways in my seat and watched her. Nothing ever good came from turning your back on an angry woman, but she didn’t make a single noise.
The Enforcers had many places where they took suspects to interrogate them, keeping a variety of safe houses that suited their needs. In the case where the person was magical or when extra caution was needed, the Council building was used. It was large enough to cater to the needs of the members, to serve the Supernatural justice system and, beneath the property, were large stone walled holding cells.
It didn’t surprise me that this was where we ended up. Morgan’s silence didn’t fool me for a second, she was like a time bomb waiting to explode the moment she was released or saw an opportunity to attack.
Devlin must’ve felt the same as he quickly dragged her from the truck, wasting no time in transferring her into a secured room with a table and four chairs. It reminded me of the type of police set-up on a TV crime drama. Guiding her to a seat, Devlin bound her ankles in shackles and threaded a silver chain through the handcuffs so he could lock her hands into place on top of the wooden table.
“A little extreme, don’t you think?” Morgan snapped, finally speaking up. She flexed against the steel, limited in movement as her hands strained to gain any kind of freedom. “If you wanted a little S & M action, you should’ve just asked.” Despite her bravado and sarcastic wink, she had to be freaking out. The handcuffs might appear to be standard, but they were also heavily laced with magic. The longer she wore them, the more drained her own powers would be. By now, her only attacks were with that razor sharp tongue of hers.
She was helpless. She knew it, and she knew we knew it. Hence, the sarcasm.
“It’s always a pleasure to see you, Morgan. I’d ask how you’ve been, but I’d be a fool to trust your answer.” Devlin took the chair opposite her.
We hadn’t talked about this part of tonight’s apprehension, so I wasn’t sure what he expected from me. This was his show, now; what he’d been trained for. Instead of sitting beside him, I chose to watch from the side with my arms crossed over my chest, leaning with my hip against the wall.
Everything about his mannerism was calm, giving the impression he had all the time in the world. It was a smart tactic because, as he smiled casually at Morgan, it infuriated her. They were total opposites—her temper like a raging storm and his, the still exterior eye of the storm.
It was fascinating to watch.
“You know I have rights, dumb ass,” she fired at him. “You’ve violated like a billion of them, tonight.”
“Yet, it’s you who sits in handcuffs. Funny that,” Devlin responded, chuckling. He studied her, making her squirm under his scrutiny.
“Are you going to let him treat me like this?” Morgan turned her attention to me. “I know who you are and I helped your mate a while ago. Is this how you repay a favor, Alpha?”
I went to answer her but Devlin cut in. “We’re not here to discuss Mason. We’re here to talk about you. Seems you’ve been busy, tonight.”
“If you mean me being at Inferno, then you’re sadly misinformed. Besides, when is my sex life a topic of discussion amongst you Enforcers? Life can’t be that boring.” Morgan tried stretching out her legs, only to realize she couldn’t. However, she didn’t let that prevent her from taking on a carefree posture.
“Where were you around six o’clock this evening?”
“You tell me. You seem to be all wise and knowledgeable.”
“Sure you don’t want to brag about your recent explo
its?” Devlin asked, resting his arm across the back of the chair beside him. Morgan watched his movement, her lip curling in a slight sneer at being reminded she was trapped.
“Listen, Mr. I’m-So-Bad-Ass-I-Have-To-Handcuff-Defenseless-Women.”
“You’re far from helpless, Morgan, so let’s cut the theatrics,” Devlin interrupted.
“As I was saying, I don’t know what you think I’ve done, but the only thing I’m guilty of tonight was going to that crap hole of a place expecting a little fun. The music sucks and their poor excuse for vodka tastes more like gasoline mixed with piss.”
I almost choked where I stood, my eyes widening at how crudely she spoke. Regardless of the issues with Darcy, I was thankful she didn’t talk like this. Even though she always spoke her mind, Darcy wasn’t about the shock value.
That’s what Morgan was aiming for; judging by the way she never once stopped looking at Devlin.
“So, you didn’t murder Theo Fenway?” Devlin didn’t even bat an eyelash.
Morgan sat up straighter, all sarcasm draining from her features. “Is that what you think I did? That I killed some poor fool?”
“His throat was slit and there was evidence of black magic performed. Last time I checked, you were the only local who practices.”
“So, that instantly makes me guilty?” Shock was quickly fading as her haughty expression returned. “I guess all the rumors about how smart you are were exaggerated.” Her eyes dropped to where Devlin’s body disappeared behind his side of the table. “Big reputation, little . . .”
“Keep focused, Morgan. Your life might depend on it.”
“Screw you, Enforcer,” she spat out angrily.
“Just answer the question.”
“I want my lawyer,” she retorted.
“Only the guilty need one. Let’s just cut to the chase. Where’s the artifact?” Devlin was scary in his focus, not letting her distract him with her attitude.
“Are you mentally challenged or did I stutter?” Morgan’s eyes grew wider. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why aren’t you listening?”
“Because you’re not telling me what I want to hear,” Devlin replied, leaning forward. “There’s no one else with the level of magic we found at the scene, but you. You’re rogue, and willing to sell your abilities to the highest bidder. You were there; and if you weren’t, you know who was. Now quit wasting my time.”
“I’m telling you the truth. I. Didn’t. Do. It.” She spelled out the last four words slowly, adding emphasis.
“Then we’re at a stalemate, because I believe you did.” Sitting back, Devlin rested into his seat.
“Has anyone ever told you that your people skills are sadly lacking?”
“Is that how we’re going to spend the rest of tonight? Exchanging witty comments?”
“Screw you.”
“And once more, you’re not convincing me of your innocence. Shall we try, again?”
Letting out a sigh, any thought of getting home evaporated.
We were going to be here for a while.
Chapter Eighteen
Darcy
Staring at the closed door, I couldn’t believe it. He’d really left with Devlin, even after I’d told him I needed him here with me. I knew how irrational I sounded; and chances were it was hunger-related, but after everything I’d gone through, was it wrong to want him to myself?
Selfish or not, I flopped back angrily onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Just because Devlin says jump, doesn’t mean you have to ask him how high. You’re married now, Mason. Your number one priority is me.”
There was no one to answer, no one to tell me the error in my thinking. I knew it was there, but didn’t care. I’d had big plans tonight that involved the seduction of the man I loved. Nowhere had it involved me being alone.
Letting out a frustrated breath, I closed my eyes, hating the way the night had evolved. Nothing I’d said or done had changed his mind. If anything, it had made them both look at me differently.
Like I was crazy.
Unstable.
“Well, I am,” I exhaled. “I’m not the same.” I hadn’t gone through everything just to be so easily discarded. Draping my forearm over my face, I needed to calm down. Tonight had revealed an even bigger problem—my emotional outburst had made them question my stability again, and that could mean only one thing.
They’d be watching me like a hawk, treating me like I was fragile. Things couldn’t return to normal if they were constantly treating me with kid gloves, and there’d be no way I’d have any kind of independence until they were persuaded. I had my whole life stretched out before me, now. I refused to spend it in an overprotective prison, regardless of intentions.
“Time to put your big girl panties on, Darcy,” I winced, sitting up. With nothing else to do, I glanced about my empty bedroom and sighed.
Such a waste.
The television was still on and I could hear it as I left the room, heading toward the kitchen for something to drink. At first I didn’t see Daniel there, but he was slouched on the couch with the remote in his hand. There was no doubt he’d heard what had happened, he always seemed to be in the know. Sneaking by quietly, I didn’t want to disturb him or have him ask awkward questions.
I’d almost made it by when he spoke. “You can grab me something to drink, too, while you’re in the kitchen.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to get off his butt and do it himself, but who was I kidding? If I didn’t do it, he’d simply follow me. With the mood I was in, an early night was the only thing on my mind. There was no telling how long Mason would be—and after him leaving, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be awake when he returned.
“Sure. What do you want?” I answered, stopping at the doorway.
“I don’t know. Surprise me.”
A funny thought flashed through my head of his reaction to taking a large gulp of blood. Chuckling to myself, I dispelled it. As hilarious as it would be to see him spray it out of his mouth in disgust, I needed to be nice. I might not feel it, but at least this time it wasn’t his fault.
I just wanted some alone time with Mason. Was that too much to ask?
“Okay, be back in a sec.” Walking away, I realized I sounded like a petulant child. I didn’t wait to return to Daniel before draining a blood bag. Almost instantly I began to feel better, the doom and gloom in my mind lifting. Balancing my thirst was a lot harder than I’d initially anticipated—even the slightest dip having an immediate effect on my mentality.
“Here you go, I got us both beer,” I said as I returned to the couch and handed him a bottle.
“Since when do you drink beer?” Daniel asked, surprised.
Shrugging, I looked down at the label. “I don’t know. Since now.”
He patted the space beside him and smiled. “Take a load off.” Daniel stared back at the TV and began yelling at the screen. “If they keep playing like their heads are up their asses, they can kiss the championship goodbye!”
I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to commit. I’d originally planned to return to bed and maybe feel sorry for myself for a while before falling asleep. I wasn’t as addicted to football as the guys were, but the thought of staring at four walls for the rest of the evening suddenly seemed pathetic.
“Well, it would help if you didn’t follow a bunch of losers, Daniel,” I quipped, sitting beside him and taking a mouthful of drink.
“Hey, I’ll have you know they don’t usually suck this bad. Must be their time of the month.”
“What, the entire team?” I chuckled, relaxing into the soft cushions.
“Isn’t that some . . . girl thing?” He waved his hand at the TV like it explained everything.
That made me laugh even harder. “So you’re saying you’re cheering for a bunch of women? I wouldn’t let Mason hear you talk about his beloved Cardinals like that.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. “No, Mrs. Smartie Pants. I mean, don’t you girl
s sync your female stuff. Makes you like some dangerous gang because you’ll all shank some poor fool for a chocolate bar or something.”
“Keep digging yourself that hole. Sooner or later, you’ll bury yourself in it.”
“Humph,” he responded, starting to say something else before the epic fail of a play distracted him. “Open your damn eyes! Why don’t you just hand them the ball . . . save yourself from breaking a freaking nail!” Disgusted, he changed the channel.
“It’s just a game, you know.” I sighed.
The look Daniel gave me was priceless—as if I’d suddenly sprouted two heads and had begun singing opera.
“It’s never just a game.”
“You’re such a guy.” I shook my head.
“And you’re such a girl,” he retorted. We both took a long draw from our beers, caught up in our own thoughts. “So . . .”
It had taken him longer than I expected. Raising my eyebrows, I waited for him to finish.
“So?”
“Want to talk about it?” He sat there casually, his fingers scratching at the corners of the bottle’s sticky label.
“You heard, huh?”
“Yeah. It was kind of hard not to. I get why you were upset, but I’m not going to lie. I’m a little surprised.” Daniel cast me a sidelong glance, a curious expression on his face.
“To be honest, I surprised myself, as well. I didn’t expect to get so angry. I guess everything’s been building up and then it all just exploded.” I didn’t look at him, choosing to focus on my own drink, instead.
“He loves you, you know. The last thing Mason would ever want to do is hurt you.”
“He does. And I get it. He has responsibilities. I think that’s what makes him so amazing. The fact that people come to him, that they need his help or ask for his opinion, it shows how valued he is and how much he’s trusted. It’s an honor and a sign of the respect he’s earned. He’s not just some werewolf. He’s an Alpha . . . the Alpha.” Mason was one of many Pack leaders in the country, but there was no doubt he’d earned his place at the top. Others deferred to his judgment. When they sought counsel, they came to him. He was an authority figure, whether he wanted to be or not. Late night interruptions were part and parcel of being married to a man like him.
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