“Because,” Jace spoke evenly, “I will never falsely persuade my mate no matter what.”
Mason’s mouth curled up in a smug smirk. “Meanwhile, she’s got you by the short hairs. Enjoy your run.”
Asshole. Jace continued mopping while Mason walked out.
“Soooo,” Bennett said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You hungry Jace? Blood and guts always gets my appetite going. We’ll break to eat before we fix the door.”
“Yeah, but which twin is cooking tonight?” Mercury asked. Malcolm and Harrison were the twin shifters; tall, dark, and deadly. They were always together—on their ops and with their women. “You don’t wanna stay if it’s Malcolm. He’s a shit cook.”
Jace’s mouth twitched up at Mercury’s bluntness. They must run this place like firefighters with twenty-four hour, round-the-clock shifts where everyone rotates cooking and cleaning.
“It’s Malcolm,” Commander Fitzsimmons informed them. “But he’s bringing home burgers from The Steak Shack. I told him to bring extra so you might as well stay.”
Chapter 7
Cassie whipped into her parking spot at the mental health center. Running late, she grabbed her purse and practically bolted through the employee entrance at the back of the clinic. She never woke up late and was always on time. Since she was still building her patient base, her mornings weren’t often booked solid. Today, of course, she had a last minute booking in the first slot of the day. Normally, when she knew no patients were scheduled at the beginning of the day, she meandered in right at nine a.m. and spent the first hour reading ahead on upcoming cases for the day.
Today started shitty, and was looking to stay that way. Her alarm didn’t go off so she woke up to the admin assistant calling her to ask if it was okay to schedule a patient right away. He was a new patient, had requested her, and was there waiting. Patients equaled money. She shot out of bed and ran through the shower, grabbed a granola bar, and bolted out the door.
Now as she rushed down the hall to her office, she grimaced. She literally ran into someone during her run yesterday and had the road rash to prove it on her knee. And no wonder Cassie had been the one to hit the ground. The woman had been tall, well built, and absolutely stunning. Her bright green eyes shone with good humor as she helped Cassie up. Her dark, almost black, hair was as memorable as her athletic body, encased in bright performance gear. The sides of her hair were an inch long, if that, and the longer hair on top was done up in a fashionable faux hawk. She had apologized profusely to Cassie, claiming to have been checking out another jogger in the park. Scraped up, Cassie brushed it off, not wanting to call any more attention to herself than the fall had. The woman had introduced herself as Alex and ran alongside Cassie after she shook off the knee pain and resumed along her path. They chatted companionably and it was the highlight of Cassie’s week.
It had been a long, lonely week with more major blows to the ego and it was only Wednesday. When Cassie first got home after leaving Jace in her rearview mirror, she had wandered aimlessly around her condo, wanting to change her bedding, but changing her mind because she didn’t want to lose Jace’s scent and wash away the memories of their time together. Not that she had to worry, the whole condo was full of reminders of him: the entryway where they first came together, the stove where he’d made her breakfast, the table where they’d sat together. She couldn’t concentrate, didn’t yet want to face the new world Jace showed her and how she felt about it all. With Kaitlyn living and training with the Guardians, she had no one to sit on the couch with her to drink wine, eat ice cream, and add to the evidence that men suck.
Sunday, she had woken up determined to live her life as close to pre-Jace as she could. That afternoon, she called a good friend to see if an afternoon of shopping would drag her spirits out of the gutter. The memory of the conversation made her wince more than any knee scrape ever could.
She summoned false enthusiasm when her friend answered.
“Hey Emma! I was wondering if you wanted to meet me over in Freemont for a little retail therapy?”
Awkward silence.
“Oh, Cassie… Oh, I can’t make it, sorry …”
Then Cassie heard a man’s familiar voice on the other end call, “I’m throwing some coffee on, Em. What kind do you want?”
“Holy. Shit,” Cassie said, shocked.
“I’m sorry, Cassie. It just happened. I just came over to see if he was okay and—”
“Emma? What kind of java, baby?” Grant continued on the other end oblivious to either the phone call or who was on the other end, or both.
Emma went silent, probably to point to the phone mouthing Cassie’s name.
“So Emma, tell me. Was I not home when you went on your ‘my condolences tour?’ Or has this been going on for awhile?” Cassie asked angrily. She and Grant had double-dated with Emma and her beau-of-the-month several times. Cassie thought maybe Grant would get tired of awkwardly chatting with Emma’s new plus one every time, but he never complained. Now she knew why.
“No, of course not. It just happened,” Emma pleaded.
“Just happened? Really? He’s been single less than two days. How’d you even find out?”
“Grant called Ryan yesterday, who told Jess, who called me. I just wanted to see if he was okay. I knew you’d be all right, Cassie,” Emma finished, lamely.
“Right, that’s it. I’d totally be fine.” Cassie took a deep breath, remembered exactly who she had went home with two nights ago and realized she was being a hypocrite. Except Jace was a complete stranger, not an old pal of Grant’s. “And you’re right. I am fine. Hope it works out for you two.” She cut the call off.
The rest of Sunday, Cassie went for a run, ate more Ben & Jerry’s, aimlessly wandered the mall, picked up some froyo to take home, and went to bed. The first part of the week was work, running, and more ice cream. Meeting Alex, aside from getting plastered on the running path, had been the highlight of her week.
Cassie maneuvered through the hallways to her office and was met by Amy from the front desk.
“Dr. Stockwell! Good, you’re here.” She spoke rapidly as Cassie unlocked her office and headed in. “Can I just bring him back for you since he’s been waiting a few minutes?”
Amy’s eyes sparkled and she was almost dancing in place.
“Sure, Amy.”
“He’s—he’s so— he’s just—” Her eyes glazed and she sighed. “I’ll go get him.” And she rushed off.
With only a few minutes to spare, she hung up her sweater and logged into her computer, hoping to bring up the patient’s file and read his name before he arrived. She was curious to find out who had flustered Amy so.
She heard them approach and Amy breathlessly told him he could head in and shut the door behind him. Cassie swiveled around, not wanting her back to a new patient. Her stomach dropped when she saw who walked in.
“Hey, Cassie,” Bennett said, after he shut the door. “I mean, Dr. Stockwell, now that I’m your patient.”
“What are you doing here? Is Jace okay?” she asked, growing alarmed.
“No, he’s fine. But just my two cents, Doc, don’t keep him waiting too long. We might have more time to wander this planet, but you can’t get back lost time and you never know when it runs out.” Solemn lines and his pensive expression indicated he’d been in such a lonely limbo. He took a seat in one of the plush chairs across from her. He wore jeans and a pullover today. How many knives did he have strapped under his sweater?
“Okay.” Still perplexed, Cassie asked, “So what are you doing here?”
“I’m here as a patient.” He ran a hand through his blond locks, which stayed arranged as if ready for a photo shoot. “You were right, you know. About how I’m barely holding it together. I don’t know how much longer I can hang on. I didn’t know who could help me before, but here you are. A shrink and you know about us.”
Cassie considered what he said. She’d only meant to throw him off that day in the interrogation room, to mess
with him like he’d been trying to do to her. But her instincts had been spot on. A firm believer that most people could use professional guidance, she supposed that belief now extended to shifters.
“Here’s the deal, Bennett. What you say here,” she waved her hand between them, “completely confidential. I’ll treat you like a normal patient. The only difference will be my notes. I’ll leave out the whole ‘werewolf’ bit.”
“Do you have to take notes at all?”
“Yes, they help me remember what we talked about so I can outline the best way to help you. I’ll keep them as human appearing as possible.” They were supposed to remain confidential but nothing was safe these days. If they did get out, she didn’t want anyone to see the phrases “turns into a wolf” or “shapeshifts” and come after her with a straight jacket.
“Well, all right then,” Bennett said and reclined back. “Where do we start?”
Their hour wrapped up quickly. Cassie scribbled ferociously, pausing only to assess whether or not to include something. She learned much about Guardians and much about the shifters themselves. She’d reflect on that later. With wine.
“I guess, Doc.” Bennett stood. “I’d better be going.” Just like that, he was back to being the competent second-in-command of the West Creek Guardians. Not the haggard, worn looking man who’d experienced horrible personal tragedy, witnessed trauma as a normal part of his job, and managed to bottle it all up inside so he could face another day.
Cassie got up to let him out of her office, musing about how she might solidly build a bigger patient base as the confidant of a race of creatures everyone thought was for fairy tales. The things Bennett would be talking about with her at his weekly sessions would sound like they came out of someone’s imagination. Stories she’d have someone committed for …
Oh. Shit.
“Bennett…” Cassie said, closing her door again. “Are vampires real, too?”
Bennett’s deep blues took on a guarded expression. After a moment’s hesitation he spoke. “Yes. Why?”
Cassie released her breath, not realizing she’d been holding it. She leaned her head back against the door, dread building.
“I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. I’ll just say, that I may need to review an old case.”
“They’re dangerous, Cassie. Not as willing to blend as we are. You aren’t our food source like you are for them. Our species are historically at war.”
“Sounds like there’s a story there.”
“There always is, but like you said, we’re out of time, Doc. Jace’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
She wanted to groan. She’d think about Jace over the wine, too. Maybe.
“Remember my story, Doc.” He opened the door behind her, forcing her to move out of the way.
“It’s just so complicated,” she muttered under her breath as he walked away.
“No it’s not,” he called back, continuing down the hall.
Sighing, Cassie returned to her desk to review her next patient. She had a lot to think about—her new case, Bennett, an old case who was now committed in Freemont General Hospital’s psych ward, and Jace. She needed to pick up more wine. And ice cream.
It’d been two weeks. Thirteen days, but who’s counting? How much time did she need? She was single. They went nuclear together. And he was still waiting for her to talk to him again.
“Amy,” he said, leaning over the counter. It was the end of the day, the waiting room was bare and the petite receptionist was already mesmerized by him. He looked her directly in the eyes, forcing her gaze to lock with his ice-blue eyes. “Amy, schedule me as Dr. Stockwell’s last patient of the day, in place of the cancellation.”
Five minutes earlier, the cancellation had met with the power of Jace’s stare in the hallway and immediately decided to skip a week in mental health visits. Jace couldn’t force people to do what he wanted, he couldn’t control them, but he could strongly persuade them, and it helped if they secretly wanted to do the task requested of them. Cassie’s last patient really just wanted to go home and put his feet up after a long day. Just like the receptionist really wanted to please a handsome male.
Amy immediately entered Jace’s information into the computer, a flush creeping up her face, her breath coming quicker. This mark was easy.
“Just let me know where her office is, and I’ll see myself there.”
Amy hesitated.
“Amy,” Jace said again, catching her eyes.
She nodded and rattled off directions, holding his stare.
“Thank you,” he said. “Now go home, take a nice bath, and forget about work.”
She nodded, dazed. He left her as she shut down her computer and grabbed her purse.
He made his way through the maze of hallways, never having been in this building but following Cassie’s unique floral and vanilla scent. He’d wanted to kill Bennett over that scent yesterday.
The club had been open, but it was still early and no one was really there. Jace was wrapping up the books when he walked out and caught a whiff of Cassie. And it was coming from Bennett.
Jace hauled Bennett off his stool and pinned him over the bar, his arm across Bennett’s neck. There would have been more of a fight, but Jace used the element of surprise and was a pissed-off mate.
“Wha—?” That was all Bennett could get out, his face turning red.
“Why. Do. You. Have. Her. Scent?” His fangs elongated to rip into Bennett’s throat as soon as he answered.
“Pa-tient,” Bennett spit out.
Not expecting that answer, Jace eased up a bit. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m her patient.”
Jace was confused. Patient? Cassie was a psychologist… Oh. He let the man up off the bar, but held onto his shirt.
“Why do you smell like her?” His anger was starting to gear up again.
“I don’t know,” Bennett said, throwing Jace’s hands off him. “Probably from the candles and shit she has in her office. Smells like a fucking cake, but it’s supposed to be calming.”
Bennett grabbed his stool, righted it, and sat back down in a huff. Jace stood dumbly, not knowing what to do next. The woman had him strung tighter than ninety-nine cents in a dollar store.
“I put in a good word for you, too, bro. But maybe I should tell her to take her time. Think about it for month.” Bennett said, anger in his taunt. “No three months. Maybe your blue balls will teach you a lesson by then.”
“Sorry.”
“Well, lucky for you I get where you’re coming from. Otherwise, I wouldn’t need a shrink.”
“Look man, I’m sorry.” Jace had acted like a dick. He’d heard the rumors about Bennett’s past. Of course, he’d understand.
“Well, you should be. Looks like I drink free all night. All weekend.”
Relieved, Jace said, “You got it, my man. Let me get you a cold one.”
He handed the frosty mug over to Bennett and waited until the man took the first pull. “How’s she doing?”
“Fine,” Bennett said, wiping his mouth. “Overwhelmed.”
“I get that. I get it’s all new. I’m new, but she has to feel it.”
Bennett lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “We all have shit in our past, fucking up our future. Even humans.”
How profound.
It got Jace thinking, though. She’d asked him not to call. Didn’t trust having him in her home. But she couldn’t turn away a patient.
That thought led him to her office door. He heard her in there, typing away. He didn’t sense anyone in the nearby offices. Perfect.
He opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind him. “Dr. Stockwell.”
Cassie’s heart stopped as she swiveled toward the door. He was here. Ohmigod. He was devastating. His woodsy, fresh scent filled her office, overpowering the calming candle scents that were doing nothing for her now. His eyes shined, like he was stalking prey. Today he was wearing a black muscle
shirt, black jeans, and his Harley boots. Not much different from when she’d last seen him, but the effect no less enticing.
The set of his jaw determined, he stalked closer. She remained sitting, leaning farther back into her chair, wishing she could disappear into it. For two weeks, she’d done well avoiding thinking about him, at least for ten-minute-long stretches. Her condo was cleaner than it’d ever been. Her living room even had a new paint job. She’d run more than she ever had in her life. That had nothing to do with her massive ice cream and wine consumption.
When he reached her, he squatted down in front of her between her knees, as far they were allowed to spread in her A-line skirt. She tried not to think about what she decided to wear today in her usual attempt to look like a mature, mental health professional, and not a coed. The thigh-high stockings and garters were just because she hated the way pantyhose sagged after a long day.
His eyes briefly closed as he inhaled her scent.
“Cassie,” he breathed.
Her heart pounded. She couldn’t think straight if he kept doing this, kept making her feel like the most special being, the highlight of his life.
“J. Miller,” she said, repeating the file name she was given before he entered her life again.
His mouth cocked up on the side causing her stomach to summersault. Her center was already warming, making her want to squirm in her seat, but afraid of where that would lead her, where it would lead them.
“I needed to see you.” His eyes roamed up and down her body, pausing on her exposed garter line, his nostrils flaring.
She tried to sit up straighter, show a little less leg, but it was impossible with him parked in between her thighs. It was impossible when all she really wanted to do was slide down closer and rub against him, ease the burn that was spreading. Ease the ache that had been plaguing her for weeks.
“You could’ve called,” she said.
“You told me not to.” He finally raised his gaze to hers, jaw clenched. “I was respecting your wishes.”
The Sigma Menace Collection Page 9
