by Olivia Arran
“Jason, put Macey back on,” I muttered, pacing the length of the foyer.
“You can speak to me—”
“I said, put Macey back on.”
Silence.
It wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had, pissing off my boss, but I needed to speak to his mate. “Please,” I added through gritted teeth.
More fumbling echoed through the line. “Cole, what’s the matter?” Macey sounded more awake and worried.
She was the only person I could speak to about this. And fingers crossed she could kick some sense into me. “Can you meet me?”
“Now?”
I heard the sound of her leaving the bed, and the low growl of Jason’s disapproval.
“Please. I... I’ve found my true mate.” There. That ought to be a good enough reason for her.
“So, shouldn’t you be a little busy by now?” Her voice was all barely concealed innuendo.
“There’s a problem.” I didn’t want to go into it over the phone, especially not here, where the walls had ears.
“Ah, you need some pointers,” she quipped, and I could hear the smirk in her voice.
I couldn’t help the tug at the corner of my mouth. “Not likely, especially not from you, or that lug of a coyote you call mate.”
“At least I’m getting some.” She sounded smug. A squeal threatened to deafen me. It was the coyote providing a demonstration, most likely.
“Tell Jason to put you down, I’m only borrowing you,” I drawled, loud enough for him to hear.
“You can have her for an hour. I have plans for her later,” was the reply.
I clicked the phone shut to the sound of Macey’s sigh, Jason convincing her to return soon, no doubt.
Squaring my shoulders, I headed into the kitchen to face the music. At my appearance, everyone froze, all eyes turning to me. Natasha sat in a chair, a large mug of milk on the table, her feet curled up underneath her. She was smiling.
Watching the smile fade from her face, I felt like the biggest asshole alive. “I’m going out,” I said to no one in particular. They needed to know so they could protect Natasha for the short while I was gone.
No one commented, but I could feel their eyes judging me.
I met their gaze, one by one. Fuck that shit. No one was judging me half as much as I was judging myself. Finally, my eyes landed on her. I ignored the question I could see in her face, instead turning to Vin. “You’re in charge while I’m out.” I couldn’t bring myself to pair Angel up with Natasha, I just couldn’t. Even if I wasn’t going to claim her, I wasn’t handing her to him on a platter.
Without another word, I turned on my heel and strode out of the house to wait for Macey.
Natasha
Silence reigned in the kitchen at Cole’s abrupt departure.
“He’s not normally like this,” Greg offered with a small smile, his brow furrowed with what looked like concern.
Did he think I was going to break down in tears and start wailing?
“Cole’s a great guy, one of the good ones,” Vin added, his voice trailing off into uncomfortable silence.
My eyes flicked to Angel, who had remained silent. He shrugged from his place against the wall, but he looked worried.
“Guys, I’m not upset,” I eventually muttered. I really wasn’t. I was too tired and past it to even try and figure out what Cole’s problem was. “I’m really not!”
Angel shifted from one foot to the other and Vin cracked open the huge stainless steel fridge, burying his head inside. That left Greg, who looked like a deer caught in headlights.
All the emotions of the evening welled up inside of me and threatened to leak out in a big sorry mess that was highly likely to include tears and snot. Dammit!
“What’s the big deal? So me and Cole had a little thing, and it’s over now. Done. Didn’t even start.” I slammed a hand down on the table in frustration. “I have more pressing things to think about, like the fact that someone is trying to kill me!”
Angel was the first to move, coming to crouch by the side of my chair. “Sweetheart, it’s going to be all right. We won’t let anything happen to you.” His hand hovered by the side of my head, then gently came to rest on my hair, smoothing a strand back behind my ear.
“Angel…” Vin’s voice was a warning growl.
“She’s upset. Cole’s being a jerk, and she’s upset. What do you want me to do?” Angel snapped back, his spine stiffening.
Greg leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers under his chin. “Not what you’d usually do, that’s for sure.”
“Like I’d do that to Cole. To any of you. This isn’t the same,” Angel replied in a low voice.
Not low enough though. “You’re acting like Cole has a claim on me.”
Angel’s mouth clamped shut, but his eyes were shouting at Greg.
An idea sparked. But it was ridiculous, given how Cole had been acting. But was it? “Has he?”
“Has he what?” Vin asked slowly.
I gripped my mug between my hands, warming them on the rapidly cooling milk. “Has he laid a claim to me?”
“No.” Angel’s answer was short. Final. No wiggle room there.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. For a brief second I had thought maybe, just maybe, that Cole believed I was his mate. True mates shifters called it. Of course it wasn’t true. If I were his true mate then Cole wouldn’t be acting like such an asshole. Shifters treated their mates with love and respect and single-minded devotion and—
Tears stung my eyes and I blinked furiously to clear them. I wasn’t going to cry, not over something that didn’t exist.
So he was just an asshole. That was easier to accept.
Chapter Eleven
Cole
“So what’s your problem, butthead?” Macey’s voice came from behind me.
Not bothering to get up from the rock where I sat, I waited until she sprawled down next to me, crossing her long legs in front of her.
“I didn’t drag my ass out of a warm bed, or leave my sexy-as-sin mate, just to be given the silent treatment,” she muttered, poking me in the side. “Come on, spill.”
I’d wanted her to come out here, so why couldn’t I just say it? I swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat. “Mace,” I eventually forced out. Get a grip! Just tell her so she can confirm what you already know.
“Uh-huh? Jeez, Cole! What’s the matter with you? You said you’ve found your true mate?” She bumped her shoulder against mine gently, her eyes worried.
“I have.” I tore a lump of grass from the ground, running the fine blades through my fingers.
“And…” she prompted, cocking her head at me. “It’s all you’ve ever wanted, ever since I’ve known you. What’s wrong with her?”
My head snapped around. “Nothing!”
Her big blue eyes narrowed in thought as she considered me. Digging in her pocket, she pulled out a packet of gum, offering me a piece.
It was baby pink, as usual, so I declined. As usual.
Chewing thoughtfully, she stared into the distance. “If there’s nothing wrong with her, then there’s something wrong with you.”
Bingo. I grunted.
“You could help me out, you know. Open your mouth and spit out what’s bothering you?”
I grunted again. “She’s beautiful, Mace,” I eventually forced out.
“That’s good. Always useful to find your mate attractive.” Her tone was dry.
“She’s beyond that. She’s…she’s too good for me.”
“Bullshit.”
She sounded furious, and sure enough when I met her eyes they were glowing with her wolf.
“I call bullshit,” she repeated firmly, holding my gaze. “You’re one of the kindest, funniest, smartest men I know—”
“Don’t let Jason hear you say that,” I said, smirking. Her mate had a volatile temper.
“Shut up. He knows I love him and only him. We’r
e mated, remember?”
“That’s the thing, Mace. How can you be so sure?” I hedged the real question, hoping she wouldn’t guess what I was really asking. What I really wanted to know.
“True mates, Cole. Soul bonds, the whole shebang. No chance of misreading emotions.”
And there was my answer. “I…I just can’t, Mace.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No. I can’t. I can’t be soul bonded to her. I can’t tie her to me.”
“Cole—”
I cut her off with a scowl. “Don’t you think I want this? I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life. Natasha is smart and brave and gorgeous. When I’m with her I forget how to breathe. And she’s brave, did I mention that? So brave, trying to handle everything on her own, without anyone to lean on. She faced down Abel when he was feeling territorial, shoved him straight in the chest. And she’s tiny. A little, tiny, powerhouse of contradictions. And sexy. She makes my blood burn.”
A hand came to rest on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “Cole, stop. She sounds wonderful.”
“She is.” My voice was as hollow as I felt. “I can’t stop thinking about her. I have to protect her.”
“So do it. Protect her. Claim her.”
“I can’t do that. Were you not listening?” Frustration flooded me and I sprang up, striding away from my friend. Grinding to a halt, I threw my head back and blinked up at the night sky, searching for answers.
“Is this about your brother?” Macey’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but her words roared in my ears.
My hands curled into fists. “No.” Yes.
“It wasn’t your fault. You were only a child—”
My chest hitched, a band tightening around it. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Yes, you do. That’s why you asked me out here.”
Because I’m the only one who knows about Gail. Her unspoken words rang in my head. We had been best friends for a long time, long enough that I had confided in her. Told her things I hadn’t told another soul.
“I wasn’t a child.”
“You were eleven.”
“Old enough that I should have done something.”
“Like what? You couldn’t have faced down a fully-grown wolf shifter, especially not one as strong as Keith was.”
“I still should have tried.”
“And you’d have gotten yourself killed.”
But maybe Gail might have lived. And the pup she had carried. My nephew. The stars blurred, but I didn’t blink. Couldn’t.
“They were true mates.” And it hadn’t stopped my brother from slaughtering his mate.
“Keith was sick.”
“Maybe the sickness runs in the family.” There, I’d said it. Spoken my worst fears aloud.
“It doesn’t.”
“You can’t be sure about that. No one can. I called you out here because I thought you’d understand. You know my past, and why this shouldn’t happen. I need you to make sure I don’t get carried away. Under no circumstances are you to let me lose control and hurt Natasha. Promise me.”
“But—”
“Madness runs in my family, Mace. I wasn’t sure. I had thought maybe I would be different. Prayed. But when I realized she was my mate…I knew. I could feel it. I wasn’t me anymore. I...I can’t explain.”
All I knew was that from that moment on I had been fighting the urge to take her and make her mine. That a darkness inside of me wanted to kill everyone who looked at her, to take her away and hide her from the world. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t normal.
“That’s the wolf inside wanting to claim his mate.”
“I’m dangerous to her,” I whispered, more trying to convince myself that anything.
“I could take you down.”
That got my attention.
“I could, if it came to it. I could take you down.”
I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped.
“Hey! I could! Future Council Member here, you know. Half of a powerful Alpha pair. I could so take your ass down.”
“Sure thing, Mace.” At least she was making me laugh, a welcome reprieve from the despair I had been wallowing in lately. “I’m a trained soldier—a killer, as you know, seeing as you employ me. If I didn’t want to be taken down, you wouldn’t be able to.”
“My offer still stands.” Her words were blunt, but I could read between the lines, hear the heartache. She was offering because she loved me, and I was stomping all over that because I had an ego the size of a small planet.
I forced a smile. “Thanks, though it won’t come to that.” My mind was made up. Talking it through with Macey had cemented my decision.
“Hang on. Natasha? You don’t mean our client, Natasha Silk, do you?”
We had started walking back to the house, but she had stopped, her eyes wide.
I made a grumbling sound, one she obviously took as acknowledgment given her quick intake of breath.
“Should I reassign the lead on this assignment?”
The urge to snarl and snap had me clamping my jaw shut, until I felt like I could speak like a reasonable human being again. Or a shifter in control of his faculties, at least. “No. I will ensure her safety.”
“Is that wise? You say you don’t want to claim her, but…”
She was prodding me, like you would a wild animal, looking for a reaction. Well, I wasn’t going to give her one. Nope. I was locked down tight, and would be until Natasha left. In two weeks… My wolf howled inside of me, smashing against the walls of my body and trying to tear his way out. Grunting, I shoved him down deep, hating the discord between man and wolf. It had never been like this for us. Just another sign of the same madness my brother had suffered from.
“It’s not up for debate,” I eventually growled, unable to keep the wolf from my voice.
Natasha was mine to protect. I would find the person responsible for scaring her, and make him pay. Then I would walk away. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
And I would learn to live with the loss.
Chapter Twelve
Natasha
“Cut!” The director’s voice boomed out over the set.
Rolling my shoulders back, I cut across the grass to where makeup had set up a tent. Snagging a bottle of water off a passing crew member, I swallowed, long and greedy, the cold liquid easing the scratch in my throat brought on by hours of constant shooting.
“Natasha!”
I quashed the flinch, rearranging my face into one of cool neutrality. “Jorge, how are you? I haven’t seen you on set today.” Not that I’d been looking.
A well-muscled man appeared at my side, shortening his stride to fall into step with me. “I’ve been shooting a scene downtown. Did you miss me?” His words were smooth and practiced. He was a man who expected to be missed. He was, after all, Jorge McNeil, famous Hollywood superstar.
I slid him a sidelong glance, noting how he wasn’t even looking at me. His eyes were scanning the crowd. Looking for his next fan lucky enough to join him in his trailer, no doubt. No change there. “Of course I missed you, Jorge.” My reply was rote, expected. I had played this game for many years now; I didn’t even have to think about it. “Our scene together is next, right?” I flicked through the call sheet in my hands, finding the right page.
Peering around me, his hands came to rest on my shoulders as he cocked his blond head, nodding in exaggerated agreement.
Posing for the cameras and fans.
“It should be fun, don’t you think?” He leered at me, his overly-whitened teeth flashing in the late afternoon sun.
He resented me, I knew that. I also knew the reason why. Not only did I command more money for this job, something the crew hadn’t been able to keep to themselves for more than two minutes, I’d also refused to go to bed with him. What I didn’t know was which annoyed him the most. The fact that I was a mere model or the dent to his ego?
I made a noncommittal sound, a cross
between a murmur and a clearing of my throat while nodding vaguely.
A large shadow fell over us, blocking out the lingering warmth.
Jorge looked up, then up some more. The poor man liked working with me for many reasons, the first being my coloring. He liked to say my darkness was a perfect foil for his blondness. The other reason? I was short. And so was he.
“Jorge, this is my security.” I didn’t look at Cole. Why should I? He hadn’t looked me in the eye since he’d walked out last night. No, he preferred to stare at a spot right above my head.
Jorge ignored him, which didn’t surprise me. Instead, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and leaned in even closer. “Should we practice our lines?”
His breath was hot on my cheek, with wafts of stale garlic saturating the air. Resisting the urge to shrug him off, or worse yet, give him a shove, I smiled sweetly. “I don’t think we need to practice. I’ll see you on set.” Sliding out from under his arm, I strode off to the tent, leaving both men staring after me. I knew Cole wouldn’t be far behind. After all, I was his job.
Only his job.
I ignored the tightening in my chest and slid into a chair, closing my eyes for a touch-up.
Cole
I’d been following her around all day, forced to watch her for hours. I kept telling myself if was the job, that I wasn’t indulging temptation. Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.
The guys were stationed at the outer perimeter, with Greg coordinating the surveillance on his super computer. The man was a super geek, in love with his high-tech gadgets. He was the best at what he did, just like we all were.
My eyes flicked back to the tent in which she had disappeared in a flounce of fabric. This morning, the Natasha I’d brought to the set had been my Natasha. Or Tasha as I’d started to call her in the privacy of my mind. Then she had morphed into Natasha Silk before my eyes, emerging from the tent with smoky-black eyes and tumbling hair, her curves crammed into the fabric of her costume. But it hadn’t just been her appearance. Her mannerisms had changed: the way she tilted her head, the flick of her fingers, the guarded look in her eyes and her practiced smile. Hence the Tasha versus Natasha argument.
