What did the man want with her anyway? If he was from the Affiliation Office, surely he’d be trying to build a positive relationship with her that would help smooth the path towards finalizing negotiations? Instead, he was purposely aggravating her. Could it be that Lycan Link didn’t really want an alliance with the witches? Was Dante here to sabotage the negotiations by souring her towards Lycans? She twisted her lips. If he knew she already despised dogs he could save himself a lot of effort.
“You haven’t checked in with the Chicago pack yet.”
“Really? How remiss of me.” Dante answered absentmindedly as he shrugged off his jacket. He really had no interest in what Reno Smith was saying.
“I called to check. They weren’t happy that you were in the area.”
“People seldom are.”
“Because everyone knows you bring trouble with you.”
“Contrary to popular belief I follow trouble, not the other way around.”
Smith gave a derisive snort.
Dante kicked off his shoes and emptied his pockets. “Was there another reason you called? If not, you’re using up the battery on my phone.”
“Just letting you know I’ll be in Chicago in a few days and I plan to hunt you down.”
He froze and a beat passed before he answered. “Wonderful, I’ll make sure I have tea and cookies for you.”
Smith hung up and Dante cursed. Smith snooping around was the last thing he needed. He checked his watch. Time was of the essence if his ruse of employment with the Affiliation Office was going to work. He’d take care of that first. It was a few days before Smith would be arriving. Plenty of time to get Higgins to tell the man to back off.
He turned on his laptop and got to work. He had no doubt Gwyneth would check his story about working for the Affiliation Office. Technically, it was her story; she’d made some assumptions and he had simply failed to correct her. And when she’d mentioned the Affiliation Office, he’d quickly searched his memory for what he knew and had gone from there. Research and thinking on your feet, seizing opportunities and bluffing your way through; those were the kinds of skills one needed to succeed in his line of work.
Being tech savvy also helped, he mused as he prepared to send a spoofed email to the Magissa, Camille. It would appear to come from Lycan Link and would state he was the appointed delegate. With practised ease, he created an SMTP server on his computer, added the Lycan Link logo to the message and ensured the “from” address appeared to be from the Affiliation Office. Unless Camille accessed the message header and double checked the IP address, she’d be none the wiser. Of course, the Lycan Link domain had a DMARC record and in less than twenty-four hours his SMTP server would be blocked but he could always use a new IP address if he needed to spoof another email.
Message sent, he leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head while he stared out the window. The Chicago skyline was impressive yet he didn’t really see it. His mind was occupied with Gwyneth, and not as a mark.
The woman intrigued him. Her acerbic attitude was a challenge he couldn’t seem to resist. And below her hard exterior, he sensed there was much more than she showed the world. Plus, his initial suspicions of her were fading and not only because he’d enjoyed their brief kiss.
He closed his eyes, reliving the brushing of their lips. It had been quite some time since he’d reacted like that. Maybe it was time to indulge himself again. Mixing business with pleasure didn’t go against any of his personal principals, such as they were. Business always took priority, but a dalliance on the side could be a nice perk. It might even hurry things along, getting her to drop her guard and reveal the location of the Coven meeting.
I like her, his wolf declared. She is strong and spirited.
“I do, too.”
She has no inner animal, though. The beast frowned.
“True. But we’re not planning on a lasting bond with her.”
Perhaps…
“What are you thinking, old boy?”
When we are done here, perhaps it is time to choose a mate.
“No wolf would have us. Our reputation has seen to that.”
The animal nodded. Those who practise deceit have no place in a pack.
“Right.” He gave a wry laugh. “Deceit is deadly to a pack’s unity. And yet it’s our skill at it that they chose to exploit.”
His wolf laid its head on its paws and sighed sadly.
Chapter 14
Matt eyed Gwyneth from across the room. He could almost see the waves of temper emanating from her. She was pissed-off and the club was going to open soon. In his experience, a pissed-off Gwyn wasn’t conducive to a good night at the club. He ambled over to talk to her, hoping to either improve her mood or convince her to stay in the back and work on the books until she mellowed.
Settling himself on a stool, he leaned against the bar.
“Evening, Gwyn.”
She barely flicked him a glance. Not a good sign.
“Did your friend, Cyrus, ever wake up or is he still snoring in your bed?”
“He left.”
Her clipped answer didn’t bode well but he tried again.
“I guess he ate all the donuts and that’s why you’re in a mood.” This time his comment earned him a deadly look. Okay. That wasn’t going to work. Time for a change of strategy. Good thing he’d known her for so long.
“What’s the matter?” He watched as she polished the scarred surface of the already shiny bar.
“Nothing.” Gwyn didn’t look up, the scowl on her face deepening.
“Well, if you want to polish something, my car—”
“Shut the fuck up, Matt. I’m not in the mood for humour.”
Her sharp tone had him drawing back before he reached out and captured her hand. She looked up at him and he met her angry stare with his own steady one. “I’m your friend, Gwyneth, you know that. I’ll stick by you through thick and thin. You’re allowed to be in a bad mood, but don’t take it out on me.”
She pressed her lips together and looked away. “Sorry.”
“Forgiven.” He squeezed her hand before releasing it. “Now let’s try this again. What’s the matter? And you’re not allowed to say ‘nothing’.”
“Fine.” She balled the cloth she held in her hand. “It’s that dog. Dante.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised.” He kept his tone light even though he was frowning inside. Gwyn’s inordinate interest in the Lycan hadn’t faded yet.
“Do you know what he did? He stuck me with the bill for his lunch.”
He barely held back a shout of amusement at the mental image that painted. No wonder Gwyn was furious.
“And he purposely bought the jewellery I was looking at; a black opal in a vintage setting.”
“Maybe he didn’t know you had your eye on it?”
“No, the warped weasel knew exactly what he was doing.”
“I thought it was bad luck to buy yourself an opal.”
She rolled her eyes. “Old wives’ tale.”
“Well, maybe he didn’t know that.” He pressed his point, purposely irritating her. “Maybe he was doing you a favour. You know, saving you from yourself.”
“Right. As if a dog would do anything to save me.”
“That’s it? A lunch bill and missing out on a pretty bauble has you ready to explode?”
“No.”
“So...?”
“He…” She averted her eyes and gave an angry huff.
“He what?”
“The ballsy bugger kissed me.”
“Oh.” He frowned, his muscles bunching as protective instincts arose. “Like an assault? Dante grabbed you and—”
“No. If he’d done that I’d have hexed his dick into a knot.”
He winced at the visual her words created.
“The cur leaned across the table, brushed his lips over mine and then left.”
“And it was dreadful?”
She hesitated before answering. “
Not really.”
“So, someone kissed you and you enjoyed it and—”
“I didn’t say I enjoyed it.”
“But you didn’t hate it.”
“It…er…wasn’t awful.”
He nodded solemnly, relaxing his muscles. “I can see how that would get your knickers in a knot.”
“Not funny, Matt.”
“Sorry. Just trying to figure this out.” He struggled to hold back a smile. It wasn’t often someone got under Gwyneth’s skin the way this Lycan had.
“Don’t bother. The dog isn’t worth the effort.” She inhaled deeply and then slowly exhaled. It’s ridiculous of me to dwell on the incident.” A hint of a smile began to appear.
“What?”
“I didn’t even get to read my morning paper because of Cyrus.”
“That would start anyone’s mood off on the wrong foot.”
“Exactly.”
He noticed her cheeks were flushed. Not beautiful, her features were best classified as interesting, but the added colour she had right now seemed to give her a certain glow. He reached out and brushed his knuckles over her cheek and she looked at him in surprise.
“If you value your life, you won’t say something stupid like I’m beautiful when I’m angry.”
“It never crossed my mind.” He withdrew his touch.
“Good.”
“Though there is something about you…” He let his voice trail off and winked.
“Matt.” There was a warning tone in her voice but her bad mood seemed to be easing off.
“Gwyn.” He mimicked her.
The corner of her mouth twitched.
“There, that’s better.”
“What is?”
“You’re in a better mood so now I can return to my post. The club opens in a few minutes. If your Dante appears, do I let him in?”
“He’s not my Dante. And I doubt he’ll appear.”
“Did you threaten to hex him if he darkened your door?”
“No.” She scowled. “He’s coming tomorrow to see me.”
“Really? You’re spitting mad at him, but he’s still coming here tomorrow?”
“Apparently, he’s some kind of official delegate from Lycan Link.”
“Sounds fishy to me.”
She nodded. “That’s what I thought, so I’m going to confirm it with the Magissa tomorrow.”
A crash from the kitchen had her spinning round, her calmer attitude vanishing once again. “That had better not have been the new glasses I just ordered.”
She went to deal with whatever calamity had happened and Matt assumed his post by the door. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. Gwyneth was intrigued by the Lycan whether she admitted it or not. He pondered how he felt about it. Mostly protective, he decided, though she’d laugh in his face if he ever admitted it.
If this Dante guy was on the up and up, he might be what Gwyn needed. She was adamant she required no one in her life except a male to occasionally scratch her itch but Matt wasn’t so sure. Everyone needed someone, a partner at their side. Of course, he was a fine one to talk; a mature werebear and still not settled. He had no excuse. His business was going well; being a bouncer at the club was more a hobby than a necessary source of income. The thing was, no one interested him.
As if on cue, Rudy interrupted his train of thought. “Matt, meet the new server.”
A young woman stood beside his burly cousin. She was holding a serving tray in front of her like a shield, her fingers nervously clutching the edges. “Amelia, this is Matt.”
“Welcome to Club Mystique.” He reached out to shake her hand. Her grip was firm despite the fact her smile was tentative. “If anyone gives you a hard time, come see me and I’ll take care of it.”
“Thanks.”
Rudy nodded towards the side. “You’ll be in charge of that section. Go familiarize yourself with the table numbers.”
She nodded and scurried off. The cousins watched her leave. Matt gave an experimental sniff.
“Werecat?”
“Yep. Another of Gwyn’s ‘strays’ she’s trying to rescue. Gwyn said the girl might seem skittish but should be fine once she settles in.” Rudy nudged him. “By the way, she’s single.”
“So?”
“She’s cute. You could do worse.”
“Quit playing matchmaker.”
Rudy shrugged. “Just trying to help.”
“I can take care of my own love life.”
“Of course you can. That’s why you still don’t have a mate.”
Matt shot his cousin a dirty look and walked away. He was perfectly content with his life as it was…sort of.
Gwyn stood in the kitchen of Club Mystique staring at the broken dishes on the floor. She lifted her gaze and slowly scanned the room taking in the worried expressions of the staff before pausing on the one face that was blissfully calm. Cyrus. The shards surrounded him like a neon sign pointing out his guilt. She bit back a curse.
“You!” She pointed at a server. “Clean this up. And you,” she glared at Cyrus, “my office. Now.”
“And good evening to you, too, Gwyneth. If someone could bring me a light meal, I’d be most thankful. A salad? Perhaps with a steak and baked potato? I’m rather peckish, however, my attempts to serve myself were less than helpful it seems.” He stepped over the shattered china, patted her arm and left.
“Sorry, Gwyn, I didn’t notice him enter the kitchen and then he just walked out of the pantry in front of me.” The server apologized as he hurried to grab a broom. “If I had, I would have—”
“Not your fault.” Gwyn shook her head. “He shouldn’t have been in the kitchen to begin with. Get things back in order as quick as you can. The doors are opening any minute.” She quickly snagged a plate of sweet potato fries and left to deal with Cyrus.
He was sitting in her office, hands clasped in his lap, humming to himself.
“Here.” She set the plate in front of him and moved around her desk to take a seat.
“Not quite the light meal I was expecting, but it will do.”
“Cyrus, you know better than to waltz into my kitchen like that.”
“I didn’t waltz. If anything, it was more of a tango. I’ve been taking lessons.”
“You know exactly what I meant. You are interfering with my—”
Cyrus interrupted, his expression affronted. “I wasn’t the one that was interfering. The server didn’t signal his turn.”
“People don’t signal their turns in a kitchen, Cyrus.” She rubbed her temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache.
“They should.”
“Cyrus, why do you purposely try my patience?”
“Because it’s such fun to watch you trying to hold your temper.” Picking up a fry, he examined it. “And I’m old. It’s my privilege.” The fry disappeared into his mouth. “Not bad, though you could have used a bit more salt.”
She drummed her fingers on the desk top. “Privilege or not, I don’t have time for this. Tell me why you’re here so I can get back to work.”
He sighed and wiped his fingers on a napkin. “I’ve just returned from a meeting with Camille. She was questioning your relationship with Matthias.”
“What business is it of hers?”
“None. But she’s reviewing all the members of High Council, questioning their suitability.”
“It’s not her call. We were voted in by the general membership.”
“True, but she does have the power of veto if someone is endangering the integrity of the group.”
“My relationship with Matt is no danger to our integrity.”
Cyrus shrugged. “She’s acting twitchy. Starting at shadows.”
“Camille likes to throw her authority around.”
“Yes, she does, but…” He leaned forward, “I do worry about Matthias’ safety.”
“His safety?”
“If Camille is indeed dabbling in black magic things could
get messy. If she decides to target you…” His voice trailed off suggestively.
“Camille might not like me, however I hardly think I’m a target.”
“She sees you as a rival. She always has. You bested her that once and she’s never forgiven you. And you’ve been involved with Matthias for some time.”
“As a friend.”
“You’re saying his loss wouldn’t affect you?”
Gwyn opened her mouth to reply and then closed it. How would Matt’s loss affect her? She didn’t love him in a romantic sense, but he was a good friend and she’d hate to see him hurt. “What are you suggesting?”
“Distance yourself. Let it be known, at least within the witching community, that you are no longer involved with him.”
“I—”
He ignored her attempt to speak. “It’s for his own safety, Gwyneth. And yours. Now is not the time to aggravate Camille.”
She pursed her lips, considering Cyrus’ request.
“If Camille is using black magic, she’s going to need to be removed. We’re going to need you to help us defeat her. Whether you want to admit it or not, you are the next most powerful witch in the Coven. You need to focus your energy on your true people, the witches.”
Perhaps Cyrus was correct. It would take time and energy to defeat Camille, to prepare and then take the woman unawares. And if Matt got wind of what was going on, he’d want to help. His strength was useless against black magic but he’d try and likely die doing so. Slowly, she nodded. “If such an event does occur—”
“Things will get nasty.”
“An understatement if ever there was one.” Outwardly calm, her stomach knotted at the idea of what could happen. Hundreds might die as Camille syphoned life force energy from others in order to feed the requirements of her spells. Ordinary magic, the daily kind, used only minimal energy but the larger the spell, the greater the drain. The balance of power could tip dangerously if not replenished. Plants were the source any decent witch turned to if the general loose energy in the environment wouldn’t suffice. Black magic though required so much more. Life force energy, taken without consent, fear increasing its potency… “Have you checked for unexplained or unusual deaths?” She hated asking the question. It made the threat seem much more real.
Wolves, Witches and Bears...Oh My! Page 49
