by Avery Gale
“Logan is in the crow’s nest behind the club; he’ll have the clearest shot to defend Abby. Lilly West is on a third-floor balcony at the resort.” The angle would keep Lilly from shooting in Logan’s direction, and the goal was to keep her from shooting at all. Although she was a crack shot, she was also known for being a wild card. Hopefully, with her husbands flanking her, they wouldn’t have any surprises. Tony chuckled, shaking his head. Gage saw him glance toward the resort.
“Damn, that woman is a firecracker. The Wests’ team was my second choice when I knew it was time to leave the SEALs. I’d met her once several years earlier, and she was almost enough to make me move to Texas.” Gage hadn’t known the Wests contacted Tony but wasn’t surprised. “My sister begged me to stay close. She swore she needed the help since her husband travels a lot. I know caring for two small kids was a lot to handle on her own, but I can count on one hand the number of times she’s needed my help.”
“Let me guess, the number of times she’s needed to check on you is much higher?”
“Yes, indeed. She played me like a damned song.”
“Well, I’m glad. And I know Ian and Jace would say the same.” It was true, Tony was an integral part of the team. “Looks like muscle-man is finally on the move. Let’s get this show on the road.” Tapping the mic on his comm unit, Gage updated the rest of the team.
Showtime.
Abby bounced on the balls of her feet, anxious to get this done. The energy coursing through her needed an outlet, and kicking David Lamb a few times would go a long way to letting off some of the steam. She hadn’t been able to spar in months and knew it would be several more before she was allowed any full body contact. Getting in a few jabs and kicks was going to be therapeutic. Damn, I hope he isn’t going to be all sweet and sappy. I swear I’ll ralph on his damned shoes.
The earbud she’d been given crackled to life, her brother’s southern drawl filled her ear. “Settle down, Tink. Your heart rate is spiking. I’ll pull your ass out if you don’t chill.”
“You’d have to catch me first, Indy.” As a kid, she’d been a huge Indiana Jones fan, and since her big brother was her hero, the nickname had seemed only natural. “This one is for Paris. I wish she could take him out herself, but this is the next best thing.”
Ian had arranged for Trinity and Paris to be flown back home. The doctors had only agreed to release her because they’d been completely dumbfounded by her rapid recovery. Of course, having a well-known physician living onsite had also been a huge part of the decision.
Dr. Evan Monroe’s reputation was impeccable. Not only was he an incredibly skilled surgeon, but the security of his facility made it a favorite for anyone with enough money and a strong desire to keep their stay private. Evan originally designed the secure facility to keep his work with shifters from the prying eyes of public hospital employees, but it quickly became known as the place to go for the rich and secretive.
“You have to come home eventually, little sister, and I’m a patient man.”
“Since when.”
“Since the day Mom and Dad walked in with you.” Abby couldn’t hold back her giggle because she knew it was true. He’d been the most patient big brother a girl could have ever asked for. She’d given him trouble at every turn, but she also loved him with everything she had. Her brother was an amazing father and would be the best uncle on the planet.
Out of her peripheral vision, Abby saw David Lamb approaching. He was moving at a good clip, obviously hoping to sneak up on her.
“Lamb has a syringe in his front shirt pocket, Tink. Do not, under any circumstance, let him near you with that damned needle.”
“No heroics, Love. This is a quick grab-and-go.” Kalen’s voice was smooth as warm molasses and just as sweet. Damn, if he could bottle it, she’d be able to build a whole new research facility… or three. Abby didn’t want to turn her back on Lamb, but she knew better than to face him. The minute he got a good look at her, David Lamb would realize she wasn’t Paris.
“Paris, what the hell are you doing? Come on, sweetheart, let’s get out of here.”
So, that’s the way he was going to play it? Make Paris feel guilty for being on Ian McGregor’s infamous island? What an asshat.
“Go away, David. I’m not going anywhere with you. What makes you think you can come here and make demands after what happened in California?” Abby heard groans on the other end when her brother and husbands realized what she was up to, but the only one who spoke was Ian.
“Clever girl. If he incriminates himself, it’ll be a huge bargaining chip, Abby.”
She smiled to herself at the note of pride she heard in Ian’s voice. Ian McGregor had always been one of her biggest supporters. Hell, he’d personally funded her first lab, sending all the equipment he’d found on her online wish list to her home in Texas when he learned her parents weren’t going to give her the thousands of dollars she’d requested.
It had also been Ian who’d overseen her medical care when she’d blown out a knee. Of course, Ian had used the opportunity to have the surgeon implant a third tracker—one only he or her brother could authorize activating. She’d been both furious and grateful when the small device saved her life a couple of years earlier.
Lamb’s footsteps were getting closer, she didn’t have much time to extract information.
“You’ll drop the charges after we spend a month in Fiji. You’ll see, I just got ahead of myself. I love you, and I’ve wanted you for so long.”
He was getting too close. She had to turn, despite knowing what he’d said probably wasn’t enough to secure a conviction. Facing him, Abby was startled to find him already pulling the small syringe from his pocket.
“What the fuck is that? You better put that away right now.” Abby thought he’d know immediately he had the wrong woman, but David Lamb’s eyes were unfocused and dilated so wide, there was no doubt he was higher than a damned kite.
“Paris Adler, you better clean up your language, or mother is going to be pissed. She’s already mad at you for the stink you caused in California. Damn, she ranted about how ungrateful you are for days.”
He was waving the syringe in the air like a wild man… hell, there was no reasoning with someone in this state. Taking two quick steps back, Abby was startled by the crack of a rifle, followed immediately by a shower of rocks and leaves.
“Holy fuck. What the hell? How did you do that? God-freaking-damn it, that fucking hurts.” Another crack and rocks flew everywhere, but this time, Abby was already crouching behind a low rock wall. Peeking over the upper edge, she watched Lamb dancing in place, bleeding from several gashes on backs of his bare legs. The back of his shirt was shredded and quickly becoming soaked in blood. Even from this distance, she could see none of the injuries were life-threatening, but he was going to be sore as hell for a while.
Abby knew where Logan was positioned, and the shots hadn’t come from his direction. Laughing when she realized Lilly was playing with Lamb, she ducked her head, just in time to avoid being blasted by shards of rock. The third shot was closer, and he must have finally figured it out because he dropped to his knees, then fell face forward in surrender.
“Stand down, Lilly. Nice shooting by the way.”
Abby could hear Jace’s laughter and breathed a sigh of relief. Tony was already cuffing Lamb. He must have stepped forward a split second too soon because he had a couple of lacerations to his forearms Abby suspected were going to require stitches. Watching Tony lift Lamb roughly to his feet, she could sense his frustration. No doubt the former SEAL had been looking forward to exacting a bit of justice before turning Lamb over to the authorities, and now he was going to need to provide first aid. Yep, Lilly West had beaten one of the country’s best to the punch.
“Thirteen point three seconds start to finish. Damn, darlin’ that new rifle Ian gave you might not be all it’s cracked up to be.” Del’s teasing voice sounded from her left as Lilly quickly disassembled the M82 Barr
et 50 caliber rifle. She was in love with the gift Ian McGregor had delivered to her room early this morning.
Last night, after it was decided Lilly would be part of the team, Ian had assured her there would be a weapon in her hands before eight a.m. the following morning. She’d answered the door for the delivery at seven fifteen. Remarkable. She didn’t know how he’d managed it, but she was damned impressed, and beyond grateful he’d gotten it done.
When her sons insisted she not be armed, Lilly had quickly reminded them she was an adult woman who made her own damned decisions. It’s too bad her sons weren’t as wise as her husbands.
“It’s brand new. Hell, she did exactly what Ian asked her to do without a practice session.” Dean gave her ass a gentle caress and grinned. “I think we should celebrate, darlin’.” She couldn’t hold back her snicker, but before she could respond, all three of their phones pinged with incoming messages.
Conference room in five. So much for celebrating.
Chapter Nineteen
Trinity looked down at the sleeping beauty in his arms and smiled. He still marveled at how quickly his anger at her blatant disregard for the posted speed limits had morphed to ire the first time they met. The realization his mate had endangered herself made him see red. He’d been furious as he’d walked up alongside her car after pulling her over for speeding.
He’d played hell catching her. After meeting her speeding sportscar on the small two-lane highway near the outer edge of the small town his pack called home, his radar had alarmed immediately, but by the time he’d been able to turn around, Paris’ rental had been little more than a speck on the horizon. She’d been close to the clinic by the time he’d caught up with her.
One whiff was all it had taken for him to recognize her. Their first meeting had been all about fireworks, but not the kind he’d always envisioned when he’d dreamed of finding his mate. Hell, who was he kidding? Paris Adler was going to be fireworks forever, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Their flight home had been uneventful compared to what he’d heard had taken place back at Club Isola. David Lamb had been treated at a local hospital after being arrested for unlawful entry and threatening a guest. Abby managed to get some information, but no one was convinced it would be enough to persuade the D. A. in California to take Paris’ case to court. Sighing, he brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face, content to hold her while one of Eli’s drivers drove them back to Paris’ new home.
She didn’t know her condo in California had been packed and moved while they’d been in Washington. It had cost Trinity a small fortune, but he’d managed to get all her personal belongings moved. Under the direction of his mate’s sister, London, everything had already been put away. When Trinity was convinced the situation with Lamb was completely resolved, they’d discuss her moving into his home.
Only a few people knew about the tunnel connecting his palatial home with the pack headquarters—in fact, very few people outside the pack knew the timber and glass mansion overlooking the wooded area behind the clinic existed. Shaking off the direction his thoughts had taken, he pushed aside everything but his concerns for his mate’s safety.
“Baby, are you going to be able to walk inside?” He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t so much as stir. She’d been restless on the plane, tossing and turning without the physical connection of being held. She never rested well unless she was in his arms, and it pleased him to know she felt safe in the one place she should always find solace.
Since she was technically still recovering from her head injury and needed to rest as much as possible, Trinity had forgone the seat belt to hold her on his lap during the short trip from the airport. Hopefully, the generous tip he’d given the young shifter called out in the middle of the night would keep him from sharing that juicy tidbit about the local sheriff.
Stepping out of the Towne car’s backseat, his sleeping mate cradled in his arms, Trinity felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, just as Paris stiffened. Letting out a low growl, Paris launched herself out of his arms. Shifting in midair, she landed in a crouch in front of him as the shredded remnants of her clothing floated to the ground around them. She skirted a large hedge he knew concealed a cobblestone walkway around the house. The few seconds he’d lost in confusion turned out to be more significant than he could have ever imagined.
“Hello, Sheriff.” Turning to his left, Trinity watched Senator Nancy Lamb step around a small evergreen, a small caliber handgun in her hand. Hell. One of Trinity’s gifts was reading people, and Senator Lamb was two-and-a-half gallons of crazy in a gallon bucket—things were about to get messy. It was painfully obvious the woman wasn’t comfortable or familiar with the weapon she had pointed at his chest. In his experience, an untrained person was the most dangerous person in the world when armed.
“Senator. How did you manage to skirt Dr. Monroe’s security?” Her eyes lit with amusement, making her look as certifiable as the energy surrounding.
“One of my staff had an unfortunate accident early this morning. Ironically, it occurred right after my son was injured while trying to find help on a small island off the coast of our nation’s capital. Amazing coincidence, don’t you think?”
Oh, hell no, there wasn’t anything coincidental about this at all. The only question was, how had she managed to get someone admitted to Evan’s clinic so quickly?
“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I want to speak to Paris Adler.” Senator Lamb’s voice went from phony sweet to ice cold so quickly, it sent chills up Trinity’s spine.
“Not going to happen, Senator. You might as well tuck that pistol back in your Gucci bag and make your way down to D.C.” Glancing down, Trinity noted the shattered tracking bracelet Paris had been wearing. She hadn’t had time to activate the panic alarm, but he knew the failsafe had kicked in when the circuit was broken.
Trinity had personally locked the bracelet around her wrist and had the only key to open it without triggering an alarm. His phone was vibrating in his pocket, and he knew Ian’s team was already responding. The damned woman who’d given birth to the Devil’s spawn stalking his mate had managed to catch him without a weapon. She’d better enjoy this moment because it was a mistake I’ll never make again.
“I’ll bet she’ll come back outside if she knows your life depends on it.” Waving her free hand toward the clothing remnants at his feet, she added, “The little tramp is probably looking for something to wear. What did she do, rip off her clothes, trying to tempt you as she did my son?” Trinity heard the low-pitched growl behind the senator but knew the woman was unaware she was being stalked by the woman she’d just insulted.
Shifters who didn’t grow up with the ability didn’t understand the energy backlash associated with their first attacks. A young shifter learned those lessons over time, but a new shifter didn’t have the benefit of the same exposure to the learning curve. Trinity wanted to do anything he could to keep Paris from experiencing the negative surge of energy that always followed attacking an opponent. Counting the seconds he knew it would take his deputies and the pack’s security team to arrive, Trinity knew his best hope was to stall.
“Why the urgency, Senator? It seems you have gone to extraordinary lengths to talk to a woman you clearly don’t like.” Rocking back on his heels to distract her from the half-step he planned to take forward, Trinity tilted his head to the side, hoping she’d fall for the faux interest.
“My son has been in love with Paris Adler for years. She’s led him on from the beginning.” The disdain in her voice was competing with the crazy, and the combination was worrisome. The woman was pushing Paris’ buttons without knowing her target was listening.
Don’t let her get to you, baby. She’s nuts. Scent her. Smell the difference as she gets closer and closer to the emotional edge. Let the men who are on their way do their jobs.
Trinity felt Paris’ distraction and wondered who the hell she was talking to. Goddess above, this was shap
ing up to be a fuck-up of epic proportions. A crazy politician holding a gun she obviously had no idea how to handle safely, a new shifter with a fucking head injury who was talking to something or someone he couldn’t see or hear, and a team of security personnel closing in from all sides. Yes, indeed—a recipe for disaster.
Paris didn’t give a rat’s ass about the venom Nancy Lamb was spewing about her. Hell, she’d disliked Paris from the first time they met, why would her opinion matter now? It was the woman’s malicious intent she was reacting to.
One moment, Paris had been sleeping peacefully in Trinity’s arms, the next she’d been slammed with the most overwhelmingly negative energy she’d ever experienced. She hadn’t thought, she’d just shifted and run for a strategic position. Her only concern was for her mate. The damned woman was pointing a gun at Trinity… what the ever-loving hell was she thinking? Paris felt her anger spike, as red-tinged her peripheral vision.
My sweet, Paris. Wait. Dad and I are here, and we’ll protect your mate. If you act, we’ll be forced to choose, and we’ll always protect our own.
She felt a gentle hand brush over the top of her head, a soft caress she might have mistaken for a breeze if she hadn’t heard her mom’s voice so clearly in her mind. Her entire life, Paris had heard her parents’ assurances her gifts were waiting, but until this moment, she hadn’t really believed.
Never doubt your gifts, sweetheart. You were our youngest, but in so many ways, we saved the most significant bits of magic for you.
It warmed her heart to hear the love in her father’s voice; it didn’t matter she was hearing with her mind rather than her ears. If this was a part of the Universe’s gift to her, Paris was going to consider herself incredibly blessed.
Your dad is right, baby girl. Your gifts are greater than your wildest imagination. All you have to do is step out of your own way.
