Shift Happens (A Carus Novel Book 1) (27 page)

Wick frowned.
Are you imaging this?

Leaping off the chair I cast an accusatory glare at the man on my bed. “How did you do that?”

Wick shrugged. “I don’t know. You are not pack. Not yet, at least. You should not be able to hear me.”

Can you hear me?

Wick smiled and nodded.
Crystal clear. I like your voice in my mind.

What the hell is going on? Did you join me to your pack when I was injured?

Wick looked affronted at the accusation.
You know as well as I do that joining a pack has to be voluntary. The suggestion that I forced you is not only absurd, it’s hurtful.

Sorry.
I didn’t sound sorry. I sounded like a petulant debutant after being scolded for running up her credit card.

Have you ever spoken mind to mind before?
Wick asked.

I started to deny that I had, but then I remembered Ma. Frowning, I explained what happened to Wick.

So you can mind speak to feras?

I nodded.

Maybe that means you can speak to all animals.

You’re not an animal, Wick.

I am, where and when it counts.
The look he cast me left little to the imagination, no, wait, it left a little too much to my vivid and overactive imagination. Images of Wick naked in bed sent a wave of pleasure and promise rippling through my body. The air in the room grew heavy.

Wick’s smile widened. His eyelids lowered halfway and he leaned in to watch every movement like a predator closing in on its prey. My skin quivered.

Inhaling deeply, he gaze caught mine.
Say the word, Andy, and I’ll show you.

You’re incorrigible.

Wick shrugged and slowly stretched out of his sitting position on the bed. He ran his hands up my arms as he stood in front of me.
But you like it.

And I did. His behaviour from anyone else would’ve had me running away, or kneeing him in the groin, but I understood his persistence, his need to close the gap that existed between us, because I felt it too. The mate bond. His rosemary scent curled around me like a lasso, and one tug would have me in his lap, under his control. But that extra tug would never come from Wick, because he’d never push me, not really. He’d know from Mel how I’d been treated in the past and seemed to understand my need to close the distance in my own time and on my own terms.

Wick’s hand glided up behind my head and tangled in my hair. He pulled me close and pressed his mouth against mine. But the gentle seduction of our earlier encounters disappeared as his kiss deepened, along with his control. He growled into my lips, but his hold on the back of my neck loosened and he withdrew. Intoxicating. Wick used a perfect balance of soft and hard. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to me.

When his tongue stroked mine, I groaned and drew him closer, the feel of every hard contour of his body sending a rush of pleasure coursing through me.
Hot damn!

The phone rang.

Get lost.

Wick chuckled, which meant I projected my thoughts. Now that I’d placed my voice in his head, it seemed I lacked a filter. That would have to change fast. Sobering, I pulled away from Wick. He grumbled and made a last ditch effort to drag me close again. I shrugged out of his grasp.

Next time a phone interrupts us, I am going to bash that thing into the wall.
His voice brushed against my thoughts.
That goes for anything or anyone else that interrupts us.
He released me and held his hands up in mock surrender.

Laughing, I answered the phone.

I’m serious, Andy.

“Hello?” I answered the phone with a shaky voice. Wick stepped in behind me—to hold me? Throttle me? To make sure I heard? I waved him off.

“It’s Joyce.”

The name stumped me, but the cheese grater voice helped identify the caller. “Agent Booth?”

“Yes. I have a first name.” From her tone, I practically heard her eyes roll from the other end of the phone.

“First I’ve heard of it,” I grumbled. All agents had first names, but I didn’t use them, ever. Only agents who were friends referred to each other by their first name. Didn’t realize Joyce and I fit into that category.

Wick crossed his arms and huffed in my ear.

I heard yo
u!

His body relaxed, but he remained standing inches behind me. His breath hit the back of my neck. Distracted, I missed what Booth said. “Sorry. What was that?”

“There’s no need for the attitude. I said it once. I’m not going to repeat myself.”

“No. I missed what you said. I was distracted.” I shot Wick a cold stare. His eyes widened and he took a step back.

Dead silence answered me on the other end of the phone, as if Booth took time to contemplate whether I was sincere or not. “I apologized for my brisk manner on the phone earlier.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.”

“Yes, well, like I said. I’m not going to repeat myself.”

I didn’t bother pointing out that she kind of already did. She didn’t strike me as the type to apologize often. I turned and found a comfortable position on the bed.

“I was not alone and I don’t trust my work phone.”

“Troubles at the SRD?”

Booth snorted. “I’m not entirely convinced Landen left the SRD without help.”

“You think someone high up was involved in his going rogue?”

“And pulling his strings,” she confided. “Someone cleaned up after the two of you, keeping you off the radar, feeding Landen tips whenever we got close.”

“Is this line secure?”
Dumb question, Andy.

Booth snorted again. “What a dumb question.”

“I’ve had a rough couple of days. Cut me some slack.”

Booth paused. “Give me the full report.”

“There is a Master Vampire in town with his horde by the name of Ethan Monroe. He’s holed up in West Vancouver and was behind the hit on Lucien’s human servant.”

“The hit you botched.”

My teeth ground together. “I ripped his throat out. He should have died. Even as a human servant, it should have been enough.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“No.”

Another pause. “So you found out who issued the orders. Does Lucien consider your debt paid?”

My turn to snort. “No. He considers the insult appeased. He will no longer kill me or give me to Clint, but I still owe him.”

“And let me guess, he won’t name a price.”

“I made him.”

“And?”

“Kill Ethan.”

Booth laughed, deep and throaty and not altogether unpleasant because it sounded genuine. “These Vampires never cease to amaze me. You think with immortality, they would gain some perspective on trivial matters.”

“I think they lose perspective, not gain it. The older they get the more serious they take themselves.”

“So you’re not a vamp tramp?”

“No.”

“Is that all?” She sounded like she knew more existed, but wanted to be wrong.

“Nope.”

A long drawn out sigh came from the other end of the phone.

“Ethan’s animal to call is the leopard.”

“Angelica,” Booth cursed. “I knew there was something wrong with her.”

“Agreed. She’s how I found him. The scent of Landen’s killer was faint, but I knew it had to be a big cat. When I met Angie, I recognized a familiarity with her scent and tracked her to Ethan. One of his envoys was the killer.”

“Do you know the envoy’s name?”

When I went to answer, my throat constricted. A pang of guilt lanced through my body. Why did I feel this sudden loyalty to him? Why did my mountain lion try to shred the inside of my head with her claws to prevent me from saying his name? I’d met him only once and I didn’t know a thing about him. I cleared my throat. “Tristan.”

“Tristan Kayne?”

I shrugged. Realizing she couldn’t see me, I answered “I guess.”

“Angie’s pride leader? God, she never stops talking about him.”

“Sounds right.”

“Black hair like shining ebony, eyes like cut sapphires.” Booth tried to pitch her voice higher to imitate Angie, but she sounded like nails on a chalkboard. “Is he all that special?”

My immediate thought: Hell yeah! But conscious Wick lurked in the room and followed the entire conversation like an overprotective watchdog I considered my answer before speaking. Crap, could he hear my thoughts now? I glanced at him over my shoulder. He kept his arms crossed and remained silent, a good sign. “He’s a good looking man,” I said.

Wick growled.

I threw both my arms up, including the one that clutched the phone. I would’ve missed Booth’s reply if I didn’t possess Shifter hearing. “That’s too bad. I’d hoped Angie loved a mutant.”

“Will the SRD pursue him?” I asked.

“Unlikely. I would have to file a report and cite my sources. Besides, Landen was a wanted fugitive, there was an open bounty on his head. Yours, too. The SRD will be pleased no one will come forth to claim the reward.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Tristan most likely had no choice in the matter.”

I nodded at the phone. “I have reason to believe the Wereleopards are not content being controlled by Monroe. I hope they find a loophole and avoid interfering with our siege. It’s how I escaped.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me tell you the whole story…” And for what felt like the fiftieth time that day, I launched into the story of my investigation like a war veteran recounting the good ol’ days. Booth remained silent, either rendered speechless or asleep. As much as I would love to believe my storytelling abilities improved to the point of taking her breath away, she probably drifted off. As a glorified assassin for the SRD, I had little practice talking about myself, so it came out stilted and factual. If I threw in bigger words, which I didn’t, it would sound like I read from a scientific research paper. People got paid to research the north Atlantic honeybee’s average wing beat speed.
Blows. My. Mind.

When I tore out throats of supernatural delinquents, it soothed my soul to know researchers were out there getting paid big bucks to produce research papers that would greatly impact my life.

“Andy?”

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, like my mind was one of those Etch-A-Sketches. “Sorry. Lost in thought.”

“I said, it looks like Angie’s not as evil as we’d like to believe. You might have to be cordial to her next time you’re in.”

“I hate being nice to the people I want to punch in the face.” I blew at my bangs out of the corner of my mouth.

“What will you do now?”

“I’m about to meet with the alpha of the Werewolf pack to discuss a plan of attack.”

Booth shuffled through some papers. I heard it through the phone. “Brandon Wickard?”

I glanced over at Wick. His lips curled up into a smug smile as if to say, ‘Who’s the big dog?’

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, that’s him all right.”

“Mmmm.” Booth made the same sound I did when I engulfed chocolate ice cream. I stared at the receiver in shock. That sounded wrong coming from Booth—someone I was fairly sure up to now was an asexual organism. But what really bothered me was the ferocious surge of jealousy rearing its ugly head, making me want to travel through the phone and dig my claws into Agent Booth’s neck. I caught the growl before it escaped my lips, but the bitter stench of cat pee flared out of my pores and filled the room. Jealousy—an ugly emotion, and an even uglier smell.

Wick chuckled.

“Have
fun
.” Her tone implied that she didn’t refer to the G-rated playground variety.

“Um. Ok. Sure.”

“And keep me updated.”

Click
. She hung up before I thought of anything witty to say.

“Don’t say it.” I didn’t need to turn around to know Wick wore one of his wide smiles. What he planned to say, I had no idea, but it would be cheeky. I heard his mouth clamp shut after his words stopped in his throat. When I did turn around, Wick leaned against the wall once again with his arms crossed, eyes averted, and an ‘innocent’ expression plastered on his face.

“Ok. Fine,” I huffed. “What were you going to say?”

His eyes slanted to mine. “Not a thing.”

“Out with it.” I waved him on in encouragement.

He shook his head. “Let me show you.”

“Down boy.” My hand on his chest stopped him in his tracks. “We need to strategize.”

Wick growled and stepped closer, making my arm bend. “I don’t want to behave. You can’t dodge me forever, Andy.”

“We need to go over the attack logistics.” I shook my head at him. “We go in tonight.”

Wick flopped on the bed and draped an arm over his eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me, woman.”

“I think you’ve mentioned that already. Twice. But cheer up, if we don’t have a good game plan, a Wereleopard or Vampire might snatch the honors from me.”

Wick grumbled under his arm before he launched into a detailed plan for a tactical assault. I listened with my mouth open and mentally cursed my lack of a notepad.

It took me a few moments in the silence following Wick’s lengthy explanation to digest what he’d said. “So basically, you’re going to swarm the house from all possible entrances, while you blow up stuff with bombs and grenades?”

“Pretty much. We have better numbers and the timeline doesn’t give us much of an opportunity to plan something subtle or elegant.”

“Where do I fit in?”

“Could you wait in the car?” Wick looked hopeful.

I snorted. “Doubtful.”

Wick straightened up and stared at the ceiling. “Well I would prefer the next best thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“At least wait in the car until the takeover is complete and we have Ethan pinned.”

“And then what? I sweep in and take his life?”

“Well, his head to be more precise.”

My hands twitched and my jaw tightened. I had to take a deep breath before I voiced my objection. “I’m not helpless, Wick.”

“Never said you were.”

“Then why are you treating me like a defenseless puppy?”

“Is it so wrong that I want to keep you safe?”

“Yes.”

Wick grumbled and looked around as if trying to find back-up. “Fine. How do you want to play it?”

I sat back in the lounge chair across from Wick. “I’d like to waltz in after the initial wave, find Ethan and chop his head off.” Not a lie. It’s what I’d like to do, not what I’d actually do, but Wick didn’t need to know that.