Savage Seduction: A Dire Wolves Mission (The Devil's Dires Book 3) (12 page)

“
T
here isn’t enough
.” Charmeine sighed and looked over the printouts again. “How can there not be enough? I thought we had the money from Finn set aside for additional expenses.”

Ethan typed something into his computer, not meeting her eyes. “Expenses are higher because of the number of refugees needing long-term housing and care. Plus, we weren’t expecting so many young children.”

Charmeine bit back another sigh that really wanted to come out as a growl. He was right, but that didn’t make the news any easier to take. Something wasn’t sitting well with the books. Finn had been very generous with her, giving her everything she asked for and more so she could continue trying to help the families almost destroyed by the Apex Hunters. The families like her own. Still, the generosity wasn’t assumed or accepted without a heavy responsibility. She worked tirelessly to make every dollar stretch, every cent give meaning and be useful. She didn’t like knowing the account she managed had a balance far lower than expected and not to be able to figure out why.

She was going to have to do something she hated doing. “I’ll ask Finn for more money until my accounts are transferred over.”

“Fine. What about—”

Charmeine snatched her phone off the table as it pinged. She’d become addicted to that noise. Mammon had been sending little notes, small messages that let her know he was thinking about her. And she loved them. Plus, they were a simple way to get to know him better. Every word sent was another building block on the path to friendship…and maybe more.

But building that path would be a slow journey, and communicating solely via text message wouldn’t speed up the process. Still, she liked hearing from him and missed him when he wasn’t available for their back-and-forth. It didn’t help that she hadn’t seen him in almost a week. True, that was mostly her fault—her busy schedule with the rescue keeping her tied up most days—but she missed the big lug. She wanted to see his face, to smell his earthy scent, to remember the touch of his finger against her cheek. She wanted, and knowing that desire was the mating haze didn’t lessen the draw. She wanted, and he wasn’t available in anything other than electronic form at the moment.

When she opened the message, a giggle slipped out. He’d sent her a picture of a wolf winking, with the phrase
Howl you doin’?
in big letters across the top. It was cute, funny, and perfectly him…from what she knew.

“Again with this?”

Ethan’s obvious disgust flipped Charmeine’s emotions from happy to irritated in a simple three words. She shrugged, setting her phone back on the table, facedown.

“He’s funny,” she said, returning her attention to the spreadsheets he’d printed for her. But Ethan wasn’t through…and he knew enough about Charmeine to hit where it hurt.

“Will he still be funny when he slaughters the children?”

Charmeine’s growl was vicious, her wolf taking more control than she’d let the beast have in months. “He would never do that.”

But even as she spoke the words, that rock of guilt landed in her gut. How
could
she know that? What if? What if the Hunters had gotten to him? What if the whole Dire Wolf admission was a lie? What if he was a lot more dangerous and deceptive than she assumed? It could happen, and the lives at stake weren’t hers to risk.

And yet…

“I need an iced tea.” Ethan set his laptop aside and stood, looking frustrated and angry. “Can I get you anything?”

Charmeine shook her head, still stuck in her thoughts. Thoughts of the big man with the big secret who promised her things she wasn’t sure he would deliver on. How could she know if she could trust him? What was trust, anyway? And how could she risk so many innocent lives on the chance that he truly was trustworthy?

Feeling as if she’d lost some sort of tether tying her to her life, Charmeine did the only thing she could think of to find solid footing. She grabbed her phone and sent a text.

Where are you?

Home. Are you okay?

She bit her lip. Was she? Okay seemed so far away, and the tornado inside of her was spinning so out of control. She could only answer honestly.

I don’t know.

His response was immediate.
Where are you? Do you need me?

Charmeine closed her eyes, that fear, the distrust, burning hot and bright.

I’m at the rescue.

Can I come to you? Let me help you.

Her fear flared, the tug between the two sides of herself growing stronger. To trust him or not to trust him. To let him in or keep him out. To…

A picture of a smiling Emerson flashed across her mind, making her decision an easy one. Her fingers didn’t even shake as she typed.

No.

When Mammon responded, it wasn’t with comforting words or questions. No angry reply about her distrust or promises. It was with an address. A simple street number and name, and it was the most perfect answer ever.

Ethan walked back into the room, iced tea in hand, as Charmeine tucked her phone in her purse.

“Change of plans,” Charmeine said, heading for the door.

He froze, staring at her, his mouth agape. “We’re not through. Where are you going?”

Good question, but one she wasn’t quite ready to answer. “Out.”

“Out where? And with whom?” Ethan’s questions sounded like accusations, something Charmeine refused to acknowledge.

“It’s none of your business, Ethan.”

“But there’s work to be done.”

Charmeine’s heels clacked against the tiled floors, quick and bright to her ears. The sound of freedom moving closer. Of a temporary escape. “I’ll be back to handle the finances in a few hours.”

“You can’t just walk out. There are…things. You’re needed here.” Ethan chased after her.

“I’m not walking out, I’m taking a break.” Or that’s what she told herself. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure what she was doing. But she liked it, liked the way it felt right to be heading toward someone instead of away from them. And she wasn’t stopping.

“So this low-class guy is worth more than your family? More than the children you claim to want to save?”

Ethan’s words brought Charmeine to a physical stop. Her wolf growled again, the sound reverberating through her chest. Echoing off the bare walls. Reminding her of her inner strength, the part of herself she kept under lock and key. A warning to anyone trying to get in her way. Her turn to face her arrogant cousin was a slow one, a precise one. The turn of an animal ready to strike back at an attacker.

“Listen to me, Ethan, and listen well. I won’t repeat myself.” She stalked closer, threatening with her posture and her stare, keeping her growl loud and strong. “This has been my entire world for years; it is my focus and my priority. But I have found my mate, and my world needs to adjust to accommodate him. So this
low-class
guy? He’s going to be sticking around and possibly taking up some of my time. If you can’t handle that, you know damn well where the door is.”

And with that, she turned and strode for that same door, ready for something more than accounting logs and criticism. Ready for her mate to soothe her heart if only for a few moments.

“
W
hat else
?” Mammon paced, wanting to crawl through the phone and kick Deus in the shin. The man had the worst possible timing.

“I need to run a few more cables at the diner, but otherwise, the job is done. Amy wasn’t a fan of wearing the tracker device like the one I sent you, but I think Levi can convince her.”

Mammon snorted. “Because Levi will drive her nuts until she does.”

“True that. It would have been easier to use her phone like standard Dire procedure, but apparently she takes it out of her pocket when working. She likes to be
unplugged
in the kitchen.”

The shock and disgust in Deus’ voice wasn’t a surprise. The man probably never unplugged, his entire life lived in pixels and code. He rarely even interacted with his Dire brothers much anymore except over the phone or the computer; he certainly wouldn’t understand choosing to interact in the human world. Relating to a woman who spent her days feeding people was something the shifter probably couldn’t do. Like, ever.

The door to the apartment opened, and Mammon nearly jumped across the room. Phego walked in, meeting his anxious gaze with a furrow of his brow. Shit, he needed to settle down. He’d sent her the text with his address on a whim, not knowing exactly what she’d do with it. Not really planning anything…but then the reality hit that she could show up at his apartment. And he wanted that; he wanted that so badly, he could hardly sit still as he waited.

But so far, Charmeine hadn’t shown up. He’d sent her his address not knowing what she would do, and apparently, that answer was nothing. No response, no driving over. So Mammon paced, and he fought back the urge to ask Deus if he’d zeroed in on her cell phone signal enough to know where she was. That would be a breach of trust—she wasn’t ready to tell him where the rescue facility was, and he refused to push that point. So with no intel, he waited for her to make a move and got irritated with his brothers for taking up the time he should have been using to obsess over where his mate was and what she was thinking.

When exactly he drifted back to his puberty years, he wasn’t sure, but that’s sure as shit what it felt like.

“That Phego?” Deus asked, probably seeing the blip from the other Dire’s tracking device in his phone. Which was sort of creepy, though Mammon knew the Dire monitored them to help keep them safe. Or at least, he hoped that was all. Deus always did have some voyeuristic tendencies, even long before the digital age came upon them.

“Yeah.” Mammon gave Phego a chin nod. He stopped pacing, turning all his attention to his brother, noting the stiff set to his shoulders and the frown on his face. Phego wasn’t exactly Mr. Personality, but this was much more harsh than usual. “What’s happening?”

“We’ve run into a problem.”

It was Deus who answered. “What sort of problem?”

“Tracking pings.”

Deus cursed, which told Mammon the bad news was bad. He just didn’t know how bad.

“What does that mean?” Mammon asked, looking from Phego to the phone and back. He didn’t care who gave him the answer so long as someone explained.

It was Deus who responded. “It means someone knows we’re searching for them.”

Okay, that was pretty bad. “Shit.”

A knock on the door broke the moment, dropping tension on the guys like a dump truck. Mammon froze, ready to fight off whoever was on the other side if needed, suddenly expecting the Hunters to barge in or something. Luckily, Phego kept his head. He gave the signal for silence and crept to the door. Mammon waited, tense and ready for just about anything…except what was on the other side.

Mate.

The second Phego pulled the door open the first inch, Mammon was in motion.

“Oh. Uh…is Mammon—” Before Charmeine could finish her question to Phego, Mammon was there. Pushing his Dire brother to the side and pulling her into his room. His wolf chuffed in his mind. Safe…she was safe and with him in his den. Their den. Safe.

Mammon nuzzled into her neck for one moment, then pulled away, happy that his scent was on her even if it wasn’t strong yet. He’d fix that later.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, unable to stop the stupid question from falling from his lips.

Her face blanched, an embarrassed sort of flush rising along her neck. A flush that made Mammon feel about three feet tall. What the hell was he thinking?

“Hang on,” he said when she tried to pull away. “Let me try that again with a little more thought.” He ran his hands over her arms, sighing, letting his relief show. “It’s so good to see you.”

She hesitated for a moment, watching him warily, but then she gave in. She curled into his chest, her arms going around his waist. Mammon clung to her, growling softly as he felt her sag and relax into his hold. Oblivious to anything but her.

“I’m sorry I just came over like this,” she said, making Mammon chuckle.

“Never be sorry for coming to see me. Not ever. I’m glad you’re here.” He pulled back, regaining himself and suddenly aware of both how hard he was with her pressed against him and the fact that he had one brother on the phone and another in the room. Something Charmeine definitely paid attention to as she eyed Phego over Mammon’s shoulder. Shit.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, glancing from Phego to Mammon and back.

“Not at all.” Mammon subtly adjusted himself before pulling her to his side and turning to face Phego. “This is my Dire pack brother, Phego. Phego, this is Charmeine. My mate.”

Phego glanced at Mammon before taking a step closer. “It’s nice to meet you, Omega Charmeine.”

“Nice…to meet you as well.” She didn’t reach for his hand, didn’t offer her arm in greeting as shifters tended to do. In fact, she retreated a bit, nudging her way deeper into Mammon’s side. Away from Phego. The two stood in silence, watching each other. Waiting for…something.

Something Deus provided.

“I’m going to hang up now.”

Charmeine jumped, but Mammon held her tight. Soothing her, he hoped. “Got it. Let me know when you’re finished there. And Phego will call you from his place with the details of the pings.”

“Understood,” Deus said. “I’m assuming I’m coming to Texas after this? Same stats as with Levi?”

Mammon couldn’t look at Charmeine. There was no way she was ready for the amount of protective measures he’d eventually demand for her. Hell, he was stunned she’d even dared to come to his apartment. She wasn’t exactly the leap before looking type, and she probably wouldn’t like the idea of some stranger tracking her every move from a random computer across the country. No, his mate wasn’t going to be as easy to convince as Levi’s Amy. Not at all.

Still…

“Yeah. Join us down here when you’re done.” Mammon grabbed the phone and swiped to end the call. One brother down, one to go.

“I’m out as well.” Phego seemed to be reading Mammon’s mind. He nodded to Charmeine as a way to say good-bye, but as he walked past, he nudged Mammon in the shoulder. “And I thought Levi mated up.”

Mammon’s soft growl was unintentional, but deserved. His mate was gorgeous, he knew this. But hearing it from another man—even his brother—set his wolf on edge. Not that Phego cared. He walked out the door chuckling, probably calculating how long it would take Mammon to settle into being mated. Answer? A long fucking time, but the Dire would enjoy every damn second.

As soon as Phego closed the door, Charmeine sagged in what appeared to be relief. “Who’s Levi? The man on the phone?”

“No.” Mammon stepped back and took her in, noticing the way she curled in on herself, the fear in her stance. Noticing it and hating it. “Levi is another brother of mine, but he wasn’t on the phone.”

“How many brothers do you have?” She tracked him, refusing to let him get behind her. A smart and tactical move. A very telling one as well.

Mammon stopped, inching closer. Making sure he didn’t spook her. “There are seven of us left.”

Charmeine nodded. “And…children?”

“None. But only two brothers have found their mates, outside of me.”

“Outside of you,” she whispered in return. “Family bonds are so important.”

“They are,” Mammon replied, skimming her arm with his fingers. “As are mating ones.”

Charmeine grew tense again, but her growl told him how much she liked his words. Liked the thought of being tied to him. Even if she wasn’t ready to admit it fully.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered, his voice heavy and dark with all the emotions flying through him.

Charmeine shrugged, a move that didn’t fit the persona she wore. An action that screamed how far from normal she felt. “I needed to see you.”

“I’m here.”

Huge blue eyes met his own wide eyes. Filled with a little bit of fear and a hell of a lot of lust. “I know.”

“Now what?” Mammon wouldn’t push her, wouldn’t influence her either. She’d come this far; she was going to have to cross that finish line. Needed to trust
herself
enough to ask for what she wanted.

Her hands gripped his biceps, pulling him closer and holding him back all at once. “I… I don’t know.”

He leaned down and nuzzled her neck, scenting along the muscles there again. Practically purring as he teased her.

“What do you want, Char?” he whispered when he made it to her ear. He placed a kiss there, barely brushing her skin with his. She jerked and sighed, her nails almost sinking into his flesh as she gripped his arms tighter. Pulled him closer. As she surrendered fully.

“You.” Her answer was quiet and breathy—a true sign of desire.

Mammon surrendered, too. “So have me.”