by Gaja J. Kos
He and Alec snorted in unison while Annika laughed.
I couldn’t help noticing the slight huskiness that crept into her tone—or the hint of excitement that suddenly twined with her scent.
“Who cares about some newbies.” She leaned forward, one of her eyebrows arching up almost in unison with the aforementioned excitement. “Say, how is that delicious brother of yours?”
“Which one?” Erik muttered under his breath, which caused a soft chuckle to rise in my chest—and earned him an exasperated look from Annika.
“The delicious one. Ludvig.”
“Secreted away in his art cave,” I said dryly, although a smile teased my lips. “He’s just signed a five-book deal with some big-shot publishing company overseas. I could have sworn he mentioned who was supposed to cowrite the graphic novels, but…”
“You were too busy smooching me to pay attention?” Alec offered.
I sent a low growl his way, but he was right. I had been a bit too immersed in his lips to remember everything I’d heard that night at the party.
“Whoops.” I gave him a sheepish smile, then focused back on Annika. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a call, you know. He could use a little exercise to stretch the kinks out of his back.”
Annika positively beamed, and I couldn’t help but to let out a laugh. She’d been lusting after my brother for a while now, and it was clear he felt the same way. Yet for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why they were adamant to keep their relationship on acquaintance level.
Neither of them shied away from casual sex, exactly.
Maybe it was the casual that was the issue.
Damn if I knew.
“Hey,”—I perked up—“you and Erik could come to the party my parents’ll certainly throw after we win this damn thing.”
Erik chuckled. “Confident, are we?”
“You bet.” I lifted my chin. “I didn’t leave the joys of paperwork and pushing young, hormonal weres to their limits out on the court just to leave the Games with a consolation prize. It’s all or nothing, love.”
“And that’s a fine note to end the evening on.” Alec glanced at his cell. “We should be off. We do have another match set for tomorrow, Lotte.”
I sighed. “Right. Whoever made the rules for the bloody schedule deserves a smack in the face for treating the doubles portion like we’re some amateurs. Not even a day’s rest between the quarter and semifinals? That’s just rude.”
“Come on, you know it’s always the lone wolves who get priority treatment.” Erik shook his head. “It’s a wonder they didn’t riot about not having a whole week off between matches.”
“I never complained,” I mumbled, frowning at him. At least I didn’t think I acted superior while I’d still been playing singles.
“But that’s because you’re a special snowflake.” He smiled. “You were always a doubles player at heart. Even when you went solo.”
I cast a glance at Alec, then grinned. “That I was. Still am.”
“Oh, looks like you two don’t have to worry about appearances after all.” Annika nudged her chin towards the far corner again. “The newbies just got company. Obviously, the coffee was only an entree.”
Alec’s fingers tightened around my knee as we both saw who the new arrivals were. One of them, at least.
He’d lost in the quarterfinals today, but he seemed to be in a good mood given how distraught he’d supposedly been by dropping out if the hunched shoulders and curses were any indication. Not to mention quite chummy with the duo we were facing tomorrow.
I willed my emotions to go quiet and studied him.
Henrik Westmann.
The player who snagged Christian’s spot.
I kept telling myself it was nothing more than a coincidence. That Westmann probably knew Fischer and Klein from the regional matches they all played since the Munich Games were their first serious venture into the land of the pros. I’d researched all three names, looking for links and anything that might pop out as suspicious before going to bed the previous night. But aside from underwhelming match results and the occasional interview, the internet divulged little more.
It all seemed…normal. There was absolutely nothing unusual about the Games being that first step towards making a true career as a pro tennis player. Aside from the manner through which Westmann got his spot, of course.
Everything I had was circumstantial at best, but my instincts kept nagging at me, telling me there was something vital I was missing.
And that was the reason why I was currently rummaging through the locker room, my boss’s keys jingling from my hand.
My initial intention had been to just break into the damn things, but fate threw a boon my way. A boon in the form of Schultz, headed downstairs for a break. I let myself into his office without thinking twice of the boundaries I was crossing, swiped the keys, then rushed downstairs in hopes of finishing my nerve-wracking task before the players would start milling in.
I inhaled deeply to rid myself of those last tremors still coursing through my flesh, then scanned the empty space before sliding yet another key into yet another lock.
Since the Zentrum was built with events like this in mind—the Games, not my snooping—everyone had a permanent locker for the duration of the tournament. I was bitterly aware that the chances of anybody being foolish enough to leave evidence lying around were next to nothing, but I hoped to find at least some note or number that would give them away. Anything, really, that would give my doubts a solid foothold.
Just thinking about the notion made me roll my eyes, but still I kept on looking, sifting through ungodly amounts of deodorants and power bars… Some spare underwear, too. Even dirty ones. Ugh.
Unfortunately, aside from a half-used tube of lube that made me lift an eyebrow in amusement, there was nothing there. I returned everything to its rightful place, secured the locks, then took my time for one final sweep to see if everything was as it should be.
Satisfied, I slunk back upstairs as if I hadn’t invaded every player’s privacy.
My boss’s office was mercifully still vacant, the excuse I had perched on the tip of my tongue dispelling in a quick sigh of relief. I returned the keys, then slipped back outside, a quick glance at the clock mounted on the corridor wall telling me I was running just a little late for my warm-up with Alec.
He knew about my covert side mission, but while he wasn’t the type of person to make a fuss over a bit of tardiness, I didn’t want to cause him any unnecessary worry by overstepping our deadline. Hastening my step, I pushed towards the stairwell.
“Lotte,” a voice called out from behind, loud enough that ignoring it wouldn’t have been an option even if I were human.
The hairs on my neck stood up on end and my mouth was impossibly dry, but I managed to plaster a smile on my face when I turned around to find Schultz’s heavy frame crowding the hallway.
Not downstairs any longer after all.
I swallowed. “Hi, boss.”
By the time the vampire strode over, I was sweating like a pig. His gaze took in my Nike tank top and shorts, and I made a show of looking up at the clock again. Schultz, however, ignored my desperate signs of having someplace to be. Instead, he laid a hand on my shoulder and met my eyes.
I twitched, though I caught the movement before it became too obvious. I could only hope he’d write off the rapid pounding of my heart as pre-match excitement.
“Do you need me for something?” I asked.
His fingers tightened, and it took every ounce of my will not to apologize for invading his personal space and stealing the keys.
“Just wanted to wish you good luck, Lotte. With you out on the courts again, the club received several inquiries about taking new players under your wing. Top quality players.”
I let out a nervous, bubbling laugh. “Always about the money for you, is it?”
“Recognition, too.” He smiled, a soft pat accompanying his words. “Anyway, I’ll be o
ut there rooting for the two of you today.”
“Thanks.” My gaze drifted to the clock again, only now it wasn’t for show. I really was late. “I’m sorry, boss, but I have to go. Alec’s waiting for me on the track.”
“Of course.” Schultz stepped back. “And remember—new players.”
This time, my laugh was sincere. “You know I wouldn’t let you down.”
Although I didn’t believe it possible, my heartbeat calmed down by the time I passed through the appalling zone of chlorine and reached Alec on the spacious inner track a level below. With the lovely weather outside, there was no one here but us. Precisely why we agreed to go against our were nature and meet up indoors.
I scanned the tarmac, following Alec’s graceful movement as he ran another lap. Despite all the thoughts occupying my mind, my body seemed more than willing to have a little fun. Not that I wasn’t tempted—we definitely had the time to indulge in a different kind of exercise before our match—but I didn’t want to use sex, even less so Alec, as a means to escape reality.
Unfortunately, that was precisely what it would have been if I gave in to the impulse now.
So I simply stood there, hot and very bothered, watching his eyes brighten once I came into his line of sight. Damn, it was almost enough to make me reconsider.
Almost.
He jogged over to me, the sheen of sweat coating his skin letting me know I was later than I thought.
“Anything?” he asked, smoothening back a few damp strands that had glued themselves to his forehead.
I shook my head. “Just a few years shaved off my life for all the stress I had to endure.”
He wrapped me in a sticky hug, then gave my ass a little pat that sent my hormones racing. “I know just the cure for that.”
Before I could say anything else, Alec ran off with a disgustingly vibrant spring to his step. I swore and sprinted after him.
He was right, though.
Physical exercise did help loosen the strain coiled in my muscles, and by the time we did our tenth lap on the tarmac, I was feeling pretty good.
At least until I caught whiff of the two men who entered the hall. One werewolf. One human.
“Ms. Freundenberger?” the latter called out.
I cast Alec a glance as we turned around the bend and headed back. Unease slithered down my spine, but I crossed the remaining distance to the two uniformed police officers alone, aware that whatever it was, I had to face it.
“Yes?” I asked, studying his emotionless face.
The instant I stopped moving, the man whipped out some premium-grade cuffs designed to hold supes, while his werewolf partner spun me around and trapped my hands behind my back.
“Lotte Freundenberger,”—the cool bite of steel touched my skin—“you’re under arrest.”
18
I’m not dealing!” I roared at the cliché one-way mirror on the tiled wall, but no answer came.
Of course it didn’t.
Third time wasn’t the charm. Nor was the twentieth.
I growled and eased myself back in the uncomfortable chair. If I weren’t in such a mood, I would have probably remembered to be grateful I at least wasn’t chained to it.
Oh, wait.
I was.
Beitel and Schwarzmann, the detectives who’d originally worked Christian’s case, had drilled me with their questions for two hours straight after their uniformed buddies had tossed me in here. While their tactics changed with time, their line of inquiry hadn’t.
So when I couldn’t give them what they wanted—when I couldn’t explain how those fucking drugs they dangled in front of my face had miraculously ended up in my office, the bastards let me stew.
Oh, I knew they would be back eventually, probably thinking I’d crack being locked in here for as long as I was. Not that there was even the slightest chance of that happening.
Unfortunately, I had a suspicion they wouldn’t be swayed by my unchanging answers even if they leaned on me for an entire week with torture thrown in for good measure.
I rotated my aching wrists, trying to find a better position in a chair that most definitely hadn’t been made with comfort in mind.
Assholes.
They had the evidence. And my word meant shit when I was the perfect bloody suspect for Christian’s death, too.
I shook my head. By the gods. Someone had actually planted fucking Nill right into my fucking office, setting me up to take the fall for every drug-related death, or near-death, that had happened. The ideal scapegoat. I’d been in contact with everyone, every single one of the victims. Even Linus.
Although the police at least didn’t know about him since they hadn’t been at the Zentrum that morning. The others, however…
ICRA had taken over Christian’s case, as well as led all the others, but records of deaths and hospital admissions were well within the cops’ reach. They knew just enough to connect the dots, the bare bones of what was going on. And they didn’t seem to give a shit about jurisdiction since it was them who found the pills. Crap.
With the PD occupied with me—probably ICRA, too, in the background, since even I had to admit the case looked pretty compelling—the actual bastards responsible would walk free.
I pressed my forehead down on the steel table. This was bad. Worse than bad.
The cops had even made a fabulous argument for my motive.
To get Alec and me in the Games, then rid myself of all those who had probably known or had figured out what I had done.
A hysterical laugh bubbled from my lips. I straightened my back, leaning against the hard metal of the chair. If only they knew… They would have been holding the truth by the balls—if, of course, they hadn’t put me in the fucking line of fire.
I stilled.
Shit. If this setup was orchestrated by the murderous fucks behind Nill who knew I was investigating them, did they know about Alec as well? I was so caught up in my own anger that I hadn’t even considered what this could mean on the larger scale. Motherfucker. If they did anything to him, I would rip all of their worthless throats out.
As soon as I got out of this godsdamned room.
“I want my phone call,” I yelled, my voice bouncing off the walls and smashing right back into me. “I want my phone call now, or I swear I’ll sue your asses so hard your whole fucking department will shut down.”
I could probably pull it off, too, with Nathaniel as the head of the HSC and my brothers’ pack mates being the new ruling hand of the entire bloody planet. I hated to beg for favors, but was more than willing to make an exception this once.
The door opened with an angry hiss. I snapped to attention, a growl already trickling from my lips, only it wasn’t the ruddy-faced Beitel who looked at me with eyes as cold as daggers.
It was Isa.
And she seemed right about as pissed as I was.
“I said something along those lines myself,” she said quietly, although the lack of decibels only made her tone that much more lethal. “Although my demand was your release, not a phone call.”
I sat up straighter. “And?”
“You’re coming with me.” She flashed her fangs. “Even if I have to bite someone to get you out, we’re leaving. Now.”
“What happened?” she asked once I was safely stashed in her car. She pulled out of the lot behind the station and sped into the afternoon Munich traffic, taking the fastest route towards my apartment. “They weren’t particularly generous on the details.”
I blew out a breath and rubbed my wrists where the handcuffs had dug in. The marks were already fading, but the sensation lingered.
“Fuck if I know,” I growled and turned my attention on the buildings rolling by, studying them until I calmed down. “They arrested me when I was warming up with Alec, brought me to the station, and started questioning me about performance-enhancing drugs. Then they dangled a bag of them in front of my face, saying how they found them stashed in my office. In a locked fucking drawer.�
�
“Nill?”
“Yeah.”
I cut a glance her way as my answer hung between us, noting the tight set of her jaw—the way her fingers curled around the steering wheel as if she wanted to choke the life out of it. I could definitely relate. She slowed the car as we neared an intersection and turned right onto the gorgeous tree-lined street leading up to mine.
“They didn’t know what it was, though,” I said after a moment. “But I recognized the pills after seeing those Linus had on him. They all sported the letter N with a laurel curved around the top.”
The displeasure on Isa’s concentrated face deepened. “So they had a warrant.”
“And put it to good use.” I snorted. Holding on to my anger seemed a lot better than cringing at the thought of them rummaging through my things. “They wouldn’t tell me who tipped them off, though.”
“Of course not,” Isa snapped, her fangs catching the sunlight. “More than likely because the grade-A assholes don’t even know themselves.”
She looked as if she was about to say more, but simply let loose a breath and pinched her mouth into a tight line. I grimaced at my chafed wrists, then let my hands fall in my lap, and shifted a little to the side to see her better as we hit a red light.
“Is Alec all right?” I asked quietly.
The second it took for her to answer was the hardest of my life.
“He’s waiting for you at your apartment. I stationed an agent outside in case someone wanted to try and make a move against him. Even the police.”
Gratitude welled up inside, and I held back the sting of tears. “Thank you.”
A corner of Isa’s lips twitched up just as the car lurched forward, although the ghost of a smile failed to thaw her drawn expression. “I’ll stop them, Lotte. But you need to keep your head low until the Games are over.”
Ah, shit. I’d forgotten. I’d fucking forgotten.
My lovely stay at the department cost us our match.
Wonderful. All of this was just wonderful.
