Yogi looked over at Douglas. The chief shifted his weight and gave a tiny nod. Yogi crossed his big arms and let out a frustrated breath. He put a hand on the back of his head.
“I don’t know. He stumbled home yesterday. We had been searching for hours. He’d been missing since early morning. We tried tracking him, but all the traces were old, and we ended up running in circles,” he said, vibrating with tension and anger. “But then he came home on his own, collapsing in the yard. He had a raging fever, and he couldn’t speak. A bunch of us went back out when we found him. I thought we could track his attacker. But we never found where he’d been assaulted. His scent appeared less than a mile from our house like he’d dropped there out of the sky.”
He glowered at Logan when he said that.
She ignored his glare. “Did he have any marks on his body? Any fresh cuts or scars?”
Yogi shook his head. “None that I saw.”
“I should see him as soon as possible,” Logan said, turning to Douglas and Connell.
Connell nodded. “I’ll take you there now,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder to lead her out.
“No.”
Connell turned to his father in surprise. Douglas shook his head at his son. “No,” he repeated. “I need you to go out with a team to Kane house. Start there. See if you can find any trace of where the attack took place.”
“He doesn’t even have his wolf,” Yogi protested indignantly.
“Even without it, he’s a better tracker than you, son,” Douglas said with an apologetic pat on Yogi’s back. “But you go with him. I’ll take her to Sammy.”
Yogi nodded, accepting the chief’s orders without question. Logan’s mouth quirked.
Handy that. Being chief had its perks. No one argued with you. She stepped away from them, giving the trio a little space. Connell began to question Yogi about their search, throwing out the names of men he wanted in the new hunting party.
“Max, Derrick, and Leeland. You too, Malcolm. I want you with me,” he said, calling out to a blond-haired Were standing against the wall.
Some emotion she couldn’t identify crossed Malcolm’s face, but he stood at attention and nodded. He moved to join the other men Connell had appointed to the search party.
She waited a little apart, letting the others see her. Normally, given her small size and unfortunately non-threatening appearance, she would be trying to appear more intimidating. But she’d just knocked one of their largest warriors on his ass. Anything more would be overkill. Instead, she crossed her arms and studied the crowd. There were a number of people continuing to give her dirty looks. But not all. Some were relieved. And all the cubs were curious, whispering like mad as they eyed her up and down.
Logan could feel Douglas’ eyes boring a hole into her. A few minutes later, he gave a small signal, and the Weres scattered. A few hung back to talk to Douglas and some of the other elders. Logan went to the truck to retrieve her pack, Connell close at her heels.
“Father will have to stay behind to talk to the others for a little,” he explained. “I know you could whip over there in a few minutes, but it would be best if you didn’t step into the chief’s home without his invitation. And sorry about Yogi. He’s a bit of a hothead, and this situation is taxing his control.”
Logan shrugged, “It’s understandable under the circumstances. Can I ask how he got saddled with Yogi when Sammy got a nice, normal name?”
Connell smiled wryly, “He didn’t. Sammy is short for Sammael.”
Logan clucked sympathetically. “Still, Yogi is somewhat ironic, isn’t it? He doesn’t strike me as a terribly Zen person.”
“I always figure Bishop was trying to invoke the power of a name the first time around. He himself went through what my father called a difficult period, which is his way of saying a tear of epic proportions. But my father saw him through it. They’ve been best friends since they were cubs. I think Bishop was hoping his son would avoid something similar to what he went through. And Yogi’s not that bad. He has a short fuse, but he cools down quick. Sammy is a sweet boy. Yogi is twenty years older than he is. There’s a sister too, but she’s off at school.”
“Their dad’s name is Bishop. I’m beginning to see a trend,” she said, slinging her pack on and turning to the longhouse.
Men were starting to trickle out of it in little groups. They stared at her and Connell as they walked to their cars. She edged away from him, trying to act casual.
He frowned. “What are you doing?”
Damn. Logan’s mouth tightened. “Um. It might not be a good idea to…you know…be close in front of everyone.”
His expression darkened. “Why?”
Logan made herself keep his hot gaze. “It might complicate things.”
“We’ve already burned that bridge,” he growled, stepping close and wrapping his hand around the back of her head.
In the next heartbeat, she was gone, flashing to sit on the hood of the car while he stared at his now-empty hand. He turned to her with a scowl, but she held up her hand.
“Don’t get mad,” she admonished in a whisper. “I just think it’s a better idea to stay on the down-low in front of the other members of your pack. Especially the chief.”
The scowl deepened, “I don’t see why.”
Logan was exasperated. “We should be careful until we decide what it is that we’re doing here. I’m not used to this sort of thing, you know.”
Connell paused, his face clearing and growing thoughtful. “How not used to it?”
Logan made a face at him. “Never mind.”
He rocked back on his heels and studied her. “I know exactly what I’m doing with you,” he said.
“And what might that be?” she asked, trying to sound unconcerned.
But he only smiled cryptically as his father and a group of men stepped out the door of the longhouse and called to him. He walked away, still smiling.
Jerk.
Her hands fisted, and she resisted the temptation to smash them into the hood of the car. Forcing her hands to relax, she crossed her arms and stretched out, her back on the windshield while she waited for Douglas.
A group of seven or eight intimidating Weres had gathered around Connell and the chief. They didn’t resemble each other at all. Some were stocky, others were tall and lean, but all of them were muscular. Each had a hard edge, an air of menace that would have made a normal person cross to the opposite side of the street.
All hunters down to their furry toes. Or was it only hobbits that had furry toes? She hadn’t noticed any extra hair there on Connell, but then, she hadn’t been looking at his feet.
Stop thinking about it. Him. She was about to get a ride from his dad, the chief, for fuck’s sake. Time to get her mind out of the gutter.
The group of hunters left, departing in black SUVs with coordinated movements like a trained military team. No doubt, these men had been part of Connell’s Special Forces unit. But even after they left, there were still stragglers around Douglas Maitland, waiting for a word with their leader.
Logan sighed. How long was this going to take? She hadn’t expected Weres to stand around so long, gossiping like old women. If she hadn’t had to wait for Douglas, she could have been there by now. The fact that she didn’t want to spend any quality time alone with the chief had nothing to do with it.
Eventually, Douglas dismissed the last hanger-on, tossing a pair of keys to him before walking to a blue SUV. He stared at her, and she shifted with the breeze. Now she was sitting on top of his car while the other Were drove off in Connell’s rental.
Douglas and Logan stared at each other. There was no trace of fear or curiosity in his eyes. Just a resigned wariness.
“Are you ready?” he asked, ignoring her position and climbing into the front seat of the car.
Whipping inside, she sat in the passenger seat and buckled up without bothering to open the door. “Yes,” she said.
He didn’t say anything else.
Compared to him, Connell was downright chatty. He started the car and drove them away without another word.
Logan wasn’t used to feeling awkward. Being driven by someone else was weird enough. So far, Connell had been her only chauffeur since she’d left home to take up her position. Now his father was driving her to his home in a taciturn silence so thick you could cut it with a knife.
She wasn’t even slightly tempted to fall asleep.
“So you’re the Air Elemental,” Douglas observed in his deep, gravel-chewing baritone.
They were only a few minutes from their destination by that point. Logan nodded once. She could do the strong and silent thing too.
“I knew one of you once,” he said unexpectedly. “Her name was Gia. She was—”
“She still is,” she replied, cutting him off.
Curious. Gia had never mentioned knowing the chief.
“Oh,” he said.
Logan waited for more, but Douglas was done speaking.
“When did you meet her?” she prompted.
Douglas turned into a gated drive, a series of buildings appearing in the distance. The silence stretched so long Logan thought he wasn’t going to answer.
“A long time ago. Before Connell and his sister were born.”
Logan nodded again, a little disappointed to hear that Connell didn’t have another brother waiting in the wings. Relax, she told herself as they pulled up to the main house. She didn’t care that Connell was the next in line to lead the pack. Or that there didn’t seem to be a spare male heir lying around.
The pack house was a sprawling three-story structure at the center of a compound full of buildings. It looked like a cross between an army base and a ski lodge. Douglas turned off the engine and sat there for a moment before opening his mouth.
“Look, my son appears to trust you, and I believe it when you say you’re not involved, but I’ve met your kind before.”
Logan’s lip quirked. “Meaning what exactly?”
“I know you have…limitations. I don’t want my son getting his hopes up.”
She hoped he was talking about the missing wolves. “If someone is targeting your pack, there is something I can do,” she said, matching his serious tone. “I can stop them from doing it again. Why don’t you show me where Sammy is?”
Douglas didn’t bother replying. He just turned around and went inside.
Oh yeah, Logan thought dourly, following him up the porch stairs. This is going great.
13
The front door of Connell’s childhood home opened directly onto a large mudroom.
“This must come in handy,” she said to the chief. “Given the number of muddy werewolves who cross this threshold…”
Douglas paused and grunted.
An actual sound! It was progress, she thought, following him farther into the house.
The impression she’d had of a rustic lodge was solidified when the tiled mudroom gave way to an open space full of leather and wood paneling. Huge redwood beams supported a twenty-foot ceiling. Three staircases led to a second floor from the living-room area, and a massive fireplace dominated the living room.
In front of it was a big, three-sided leather couch, on which sat two women. One was a teenager. The other was roughly Connell’s age. The latter looked so much like him that she had to be his sister. She was tall with the same dark hair and light green eyes. On him, it was striking. On his sister, it was devastating. She looked like a supermodel. Logan felt like a short troll next to her.
“Mara, this is Logan. Your brother brought her here. He’ll be back soon. He’s out with the other trackers trying to find where Sammy was hurt,” Douglas said.
Mara rose up from the couch in a fast, fluid motion, moving toward them aggressively. “I don’t fucking believe this. We don’t hear from him for months, but now he’s back, bringing home some skank he picked up God knows where. What is wrong with him?”
Despite Mara’s petulant tone, her voice rang with the authority of an alpha. What a fun household. On second thought, Connell probably deserved a sister like this.
“Language, Mara.” The chief sighed. “And this isn’t a woman.”
“Hey,” Logan protested, turning to him with a glare.
“I mean, she isn’t Connell’s woman,” he corrected.
Logan bit her tongue, and Douglas took a deep breath. He was starting to look tired, his broad shoulders fractionally less straight than before. “She’s the Elemental he was tracking. He found her.”
That shut Mara up…for about two seconds. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? She’s like fourteen years old,” she said, gesturing to Logan in disbelief. “And she looks like a fucking anime character.”
Logan sighed. “Story of my life.”
She dematerialized. A split second later, she reappeared in front of the tall brunette, giving her a narrow-eyed inspection. Mara reared back, but not in fear. Logan smiled. In spite of the other woman’s bitchy attitude, she rather liked her. Mara reminded her a teensy bit of Diana. Except the female Were said fuck a lot more.
“I could prove it by taking you up to the currents now, but your brother was kind of a pussy about it.” She squinted at Mara again. “Hey, are you and Connell twins? Because I’m definitely getting a yin to his yang thing in your auras.”
No answer. Logan flashed to Mara’s other side, checking her aura from another angle. While Connell’s was red with some gold, his sister’s was mostly gold with some red, like an inverse mirror image. “Yup. Definitely twins.”
Douglas coughed in what could have been confirmation or reluctant amusement. “Logan, why don’t you go upstairs and check on our patient? Mara, why don’t you take her to the guest room?”
But the brunette didn’t move. She was staring at Logan with something like deep fascination.
Okay. “Should I wait for wolf girl to find her tongue or should I show myself up?” she asked in an aside to the chief.
“I’ll take you.”
Logan turned. It was the teen from the couch who had spoken.
“I’m Salome, Sammy’s sister,” the girl said. “He’s upstairs with Riley. The healer left a little while ago.”
“And?” Douglas asked.
Salome looked down and shook her head.
“Sorry,” Logan said, her mouth turned down in sympathy. “I don’t know if I can do anything either, but I need to examine him as soon as possible.”
Salome nodded, the dark circles under her eyes deepening with the movement of her head. She started up the stairs. “This way,” she called behind her.
Logan saluted with exaggerated formality. Mara was still standing there frozen, her mouth open when she moved to follow Salome.
“Did she just call Connell a pussy?” she whispered as soon as Logan reached the top of the stairs.
“Yes, she did,” Douglas answered flatly as she followed her guide around the corner.
If they said anything else, Logan didn’t hear it. She was too busy checking out Connell’s childhood home. The upstairs was a maze of hallways. She didn’t know how many pack members made this place their home, but the house had a lot of bedrooms.
“He’s in here,” Salome said, opening a closed door at one end of the second floor.
The little boy was on the left side of a large bed, asleep with his hair plastered to his head. A tall, leggy blonde was sitting next to him, but she stood when they entered.
“Thanks for sitting with him, Riley,” Salome told the blonde. “This is the Elemental Connell was tracking. She’s come to help. Logan, this is Riley, Connell’s mate.”
14
Where the hell had all the oxygen gone? Had she accidentally sucked all the air out of the room? Were the wolves still breathing? Was she?
The block of ice that had once been her stomach was radiating cold, freezing her from the inside out. Could they tell? Did she look as shocked as she felt?
“Oh.”
She couldn’t think of anything el
se to say. Why weren’t the winds commenting right now? Was it true? Or was it a lie?
The fickle currents were silent. Bloody figures. They were useful only when they wanted to be and sometimes even got in the way. Maybe silence was the better outcome in this case…
Gathering herself, Logan straightened and looked at the pneumatic blonde with what she hoped was a neutral expression. “It’s nice to meet you. Please get out.”
Suspicion and distaste flashed across the blonde’s face and took up residence there. “Why?”
“I would like to examine the patient alone.”
“All right,” Salome agreed with a polite nod before moving to step into the hallway.
Riley frowned, her model-perfect features distorting. “I don’t think so. One of our kind should be here at all times when it’s here.”
Well, at least Logan had a good reason to hate her now. She smiled sweetly at Riley before picking her up and unceremoniously dropping her on the other side of the door.
Salome and the blonde gave her a stunned glance, one Logan didn’t stop to enjoy before slamming the door shut in her face. After, she shuddered, drawing in a deep breath.
What the hell? How could Connell do this to her? Why hadn’t the winds told her about his mate? Why hadn’t he?
Fuck. Bracing herself against the door with one hand, she counted to ten.
“Are you okay?”
Logan’s turned around. The little boy was awake. His voice was weak and hoarse, scratchy.
Get ahold of yourself. This is why you’re here. Forget about the man and concentrate on the crime.
Shoving her feelings deep down, she focused on the child in front of her. It took a major effort of will to turn off her emotions, but she wasn’t an Elemental for nothing.
However, it was harder than she would have imagined to ignore the pain blindsiding her.
“I’m fine,” she said, her voice steadier than she’d hoped.
She walked to the bedside table and poured him a glass of water from the carafe sitting there. “Here,” she said, giving him a sip of water, which he took gratefully.
The Elementals Collection Page 39
