“So, tell me about your witch,” Lexi said, ready to dive into a mystery.
Solving a problem would keep her mind off the big vampire shooting death glares her way. She’d done some wild jobs in her day, but he was a facet she’d never encountered before. There was a quietly banked anger rolling off him, waiting to be unleashed.
“She’s not our witch,” Alistar practically spat the words at her.
There it was. Good thing he wasn’t a dragon; her eyebrows might have gotten singed by that outburst.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed her nervousness down. This was in her wheelhouse. She could do this job in her sleep. She just had to stay focused.
“Let me know if you find anything,” Rhyse said, waiting only long enough for her to nod before he strode from the room. The Stigward leader was a man of few words. She appreciated that.
Lexi tucked the proprietary bug searching device into the front pocket of the book bag, and unzipped the larger compartment. She might not have any supernatural gifts, but she always knew when she was being watched.
Glancing up at him, she lifted a brow. Was Alistar seriously just going to stand there and watch like a hawk? Not that there was much he could do. Because if there was, he’d have already done it and not seem so surprised at the idea that someone could have infiltrated the Stigward mansion.
She pulled out her equipment and set it up on the conference table. “Wanna help?”
“That’s your job, human. I’m just here to make sure you don’t fuck up.”
“You don’t trust me much.” It was an observation, and she wasn’t offended. People had all sorts of opinions on people in her line of work, and especially because of her sex.
Her femininity gave her a leg up and she’d use it to her full advantage.
“Nope.”
She pulled one of the phones out and popped off the protective cover, then took the back panel off. Her first step was looking for anything out of place physically. When that didn’t result in anything noticeable, she pulled out a toiletry bag full of wires.
If manufacturers ever settled on a standard connector, it’d make her life so much easier.
“The feeling’s mutual,” she murmured, as she hooked the phone up to her computer. She felt Alistar move closer. His scrutiny made her body tight and her movements sharper than usual. Not because she was doing anything wrong, but because she was hyper-aware of him.
“You don’t trust me?” He sounded confused.
“You think I should trust you just because you’re Stigwardian?” She huffed a laugh as her fingers flew over the keyboard.
The truth was, she did trust the Order of the Stigward. But on an individual level, that was a different story. It was a Stigwardian who’d saved her life, but, as he liked to warn her, trust was earned.
“Most people do,” Basil said. Lexi had been so focused on the phone in her hand and the vampire over her shoulder that she’d forgotten the other woman was in the room.
She shot Basil a smile. “I’m not most people.”
“We can see that,” Alistar muttered beneath his breath.
“Who pissed in his goblet this morning?” she asked Basil, who smirked.
Lexi’s software made quick work of the device, checking for rogue programs, phishing correspondence, and a few other things.
“This one’s clean by the way.” She put the phone back together and held it up. Alistar snatched it from her fingers and jammed it into his pocket.
All righty, then.
Trying not to notice how his jeans hugged his glorious thighs, she moved on to the next phone. She’d address any security flaws as she went. Because whether Alistar and Rhyse wanted to admit it, they had a breach in their security.
Or a mole.
Could it be Alistar?
He’d been bristly since the moment they’d met. Good thing Lexi was used to men underestimating her and disliking her because of something she had no control over. It wasn’t like she’d asked for two X chromosomes.
A few minutes later, she held up another phone. “Clean.”
Basil held out her hand. “Thanks.”
Lexi handed it over.
“I’ll leave you two to it.” In the doorway, she paused and glanced back at them. “Try not to kill each other.”
Alistar snorted. “As if she could.”
There he went, underestimating her again.
While the computer looked through the next phone, Lexi glanced at the six flatscreen TVs hanging on the wall.
Rightfully, the Stigward refused to keep any sort of roster. There was no master list of moody vampires, or melt-in-your-mouth werewolves. There was no Match.com for shapeshifters. No phonebook of immortals.
No one wanted to take a chance that a list like that could fall into the wrong hands.
The problem was, without some sort of roster, it was next to impossible to track such a vast group. Especially when half of said group could shift into an animal or anything else.
She handed over the next phone. One to go, and she’d have to do the rest of the team’s as she saw them.
Alistar immediately skirted the table, handing the butler his phone.
“Thank you. Can I get either of you anything to eat? A sandwich? I have a fresh batch of egg salad ready. Also, turkey and ham.”
Lexi tried to smother her natural grimace at the mention of eggs and meats. Alistar’s stormy eyes were watchful, and she didn’t want to give him any ammunition that would cause any more of a rift.
In her experience, vampires did not understand vegetarians.
“Coffee would be great,” she told Byron, sensing that he wanted something to do. She needed something a little stronger than the water he’d provided. It was late and she might get jittery, but she didn’t think she was going to be getting much sleep tonight.
She was still getting used to having someone serve her, but everyone had a job. And by the way Byron was sharply dressed, available but not hovering, she figured he took his work seriously.
He glanced at Alistar, who gave a terse shake of his head, and then hustled off.
Which left her and Alistar. Alone.
He really was too good looking to be believed.
If all the artists in Europe had tried, they couldn’t have come up with a more gorgeous male face.
And she had a feeling that those black clothes hid a body that would make her drool. So, it was good that he was fully dressed.
She didn’t need distractions. There was too much at stake here.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning,” Lexi suggested.
Alistar’s jaw tensed, and his lips parted ever so slightly. Was he going to argue?
Lexi didn’t care one way or the other who filled her in. She was here for a job, and a moody vampire wasn’t going to stop her.
Make that a gorgeous, moody vampire.
He was well over six feet, and utterly graceful. That was probably the genes. Every vampire she’d ever met was poetry in motion.
“I don’t know what your game is, but I intend to find out.” He braced a palm against the table to the right of her computer and crowded close. His words were menacing, but his tone was seductive.
This was how women got themselves into trouble with vampires, she realized, as the full impact of his supernatural gifts hit her. Some said they were dead. Reborn. Monsters.
But the truth was so much more complex.
She didn’t let herself lean into the circle of his arms, no matter how pulled she felt. But she did turn her face up to his. The deep blue of his eyes was mesmerizing. There was banked curiosity, annoyance, and desire in their depths, in the slight crinkles of his skin, the slant of his brows.
He was so close. Too close.
If she closed an inch and he closed an inch, she’d know what his lips felt like. She’d learn if he had the power to curl her toes.
Truth be told, he was walking, talking sin, so there was no doubt in her mind about his ability to seduce her right out of her panties. Socks too, if she’d been wearing any.
Lexi licked her lips, suddenly feeling parched. Where was that coffee?
She turned her attention back to her computer and tried not to squirm in her seat. He didn’t back away. His attention was still focused on her like a laser. It was the strangest thing, but she felt his gaze like a caress.
She needed to put some space between them, even if it was only mental.
“Well, while you do that, tell me about the witch,” she said, hoping to distract them both.
The final phone was almost done, and though she wasn’t trapped by him, his allure was powerful. She would have to resist him, because giving in wasn’t an option.
He watched her for another long moment, the glow from the screens side-lighting his sharp features in a pale-blue glow.
There was that tick in his jaw again. The guy was going to need dental work if he kept that up.
After another beat of silence, he straightened, clamped his hands over his hips and faced the monitors.
“She called herself Mariah.”
On the top monitor in the middle, there was a blurry side shot of a figure in a dark robe. Long, white hair.
“Two weeks ago, she murdered a local witch.” He moved over to a tall, rolling table just big enough to hold a keyboard and mouse. He looked completely at ease, in his element as his fingers flew over the keys.
Windows popped up, expanded, slid from one monitor to the next until there was a timeline on the bottom three screens.
He stepped to the left. “Mariah killed Rose Broussard in her home. Rose’s granddaughter was in the kitchen. Saw it happen through a gap in the door. They tried to kidnap the granddaughter, Maddie, but she got away. Rose was able to—” he paused and glanced over his shoulder.
The energy in the room crackled.
“Was able to…” Lexi prompted, rolling her hand in a ‘spit it out’ motion.
The computer finished searching the final phone, and she quickly disconnected the two and then put the protective case back on.
“This is all information only Stigward members know. Available only to our Rings. And yet, you’re human.”
Lexi let out a sigh. At least he gave a shit about security. That was a start.
But she got a feeling deep in her gut that he didn’t care so much about security as her species. And that grated. To be hated for something she couldn’t change, because of the way she’d been born.
Her annoyance flared, and she flashed him a grin.
“Do we need to call HQ again? Or would you rather see my top-secret security badge?”
Truthfully, she applauded his skepticism. It’d been far too easy to gain access to this house.
There was the tiniest tug of that sinful mouth that told her he found her comment amusing. He probably hated that because he definitely didn’t like her.
“Is it humans you don’t like? Women? Me in general?”
He didn’t answer, instead, he turned back to the screen. She was deflecting, and he hadn’t taken the bait. Interesting.
“What do you know about telepathy?” he asked.
“I know it sounds like a blast.” Being able to talk to someone without opening her mouth, oh, that could come in handy. Being able to hear thoughts, yes, please. She’d met enough people with the gift that she’d become fascinated and done extra research.
Sign. Her. Up.
“Rose was able to guide Maddie here, to us. With telepathy. Rose passed away shortly after and her powers were transferred to Maddie.” He pointed to a dot on the timeline labeled “transference.”
“So now Maddie’s a target.”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
He pointed to the next dot, which was close to the last one. Attack on Maddie.
“Mariah and her goons sent a shapeshifter to kill her. We’d previously used him as an informant, so nothing seemed off until he pulled out a gun and tried to kill her right there in the foyer.”
He jerked his thumb toward the elegant entryway with its tall ceilings, fancy rug, and brass sconces.
An attack within a Stigward stronghold. That was… “Ballsy.”
“Stupid,” Alistar uttered. “We were all with her.”
“Where is the shapeshifter now?”
“The Council sent for him. I hear he killed himself in their cell.”
Lexi hopped up from the table. “I thought shapeshifters were immortal.”
She paced back and forth in front of the bank of monitors.
“If they aren’t killed, sure.”
“So, he infiltrates. You capture him. He kills himself. Where does the witch come back into the story?”
Because Lexi had heard there was an epic battle.
“Maddie wasn’t raised as a witch. She was human. So, she went to learn about her powers after that.”
“Wait… Back up.” Lexi held her hands in a time-out gesture. “She was human, and you let her in?”
And yet he had problems with Lexi. Did she stink? Granted, the flight from DC hadn’t been too long.
“Maddie was brought to us by a wolf I trust. A former Stigwardian and ringmate. He vouched for her. We all saw her gain her powers. She was the granddaughter of a good witch.”
Okay, so she was vetted. That was good.
“I thought you said Rose brought Maddie.”
Alistar pinched the bridge of his nose. “She directed her telepathically. Dax was delivering something that day and had just left when she collapsed outside the walls. Dax brought her inside.”
“Your coffee, miss.” Byron placed a silver tray on the conference table, complete with cream and sugar. There was a tall glass filled with a dark liquid and, as she approached the table, she realized what it was.
Her throat tightened.
The glass of blood was the only sign that the man a handful of feet away was not normal. Not human.
She quickly dumped two tablespoons of sugar in the cup of black coffee, gave it a single stir and carried it over to the screens.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you as squeamish,” Alistar said, his gaze moving from her to the glass and back.
In most things, Lexi had a stomach of steel. Baby diapers. No problem. Slime. No worries. Blood, guts, and gore? Big problems.
“Vegetarian,” she admitted and watched his dark brows lift.
The truth was, she had a good excuse for her squeamishness.
She blew on her coffee and ignored the sudden stillness in the room.
“I’ll make a note of that,” Byron said after a long pause, and then he left.
It was another full minute before Alistar moved toward the table. She couldn’t stop herself from watching as his long, slender fingers plucked the glass from the tray.
Even as revulsion made her stomach sour, she couldn’t pull her gaze from him, from those sinful lips as he lifted the glass.
He was the one thing she hadn’t anticipated about this job. She’d prepared for distrust, hostility, even apathy.
She hadn’t expected animal magnetism.
Continuing to blow on her coffee, she set about pacing a track back and forth, forcing herself to concentrate on keeping the dark liquid in the cup. Easier said than done.
He stared at her lips and her most erogenous zones warmed, yearning to be stroked.
Resist.
“So, Maddie goes off to learn about her powers. Where?”
“A local paranormal academy. It’s a few hours north of here. Secluded along the Mississippi River.”
She nodded and glanced at the timeline.
“You sent her there without protection? Does the school have guards?”
He nodded. “And Dax went with her. The wolf I mentioned.”
“She gets kidnapped. By Mariah?”
“Mariah’s men. They take her to a warehouse. Dax and Violet, a trainer at the school, were in proximity and gave chase immediately. We tracked Dax’s phone and provided assistance.”
“I’m sure you debriefed Maddie—”
“Of course.” He took another long drink, and she watched his throat work as he swallowed.
Lexi averted her gaze. “Did Mariah give anything away? Clues? Locations?”
He shook his head as he licked his lips.
Stop staring.
Lexi took a sip of her coffee.
“And this is the only photo you managed to get?”
It was blurry to the point of being useless.
“It’s the best shot we’ve got. My footage was corrupted.”
She pivoted toward him. “Seriously?”
That was piss-poor luck.
“Has that ever happened before?”
His jaw tensed again.
“Let me see it.”
He stared her down, indecision written across his handsome face. The longer the pause got, the deeper the sinking feeling in her stomach went. If he refused, she’d have to tell Ksilvanté of her suspicion.
But would he really turn over his buddy’s mate?
That was cold.
But then, so many of the paranormals in the Stigward had ice in their veins. Untouchable. Living only to do their duty. Never letting themselves become a part of a community that believed in harmony at its core.
Breaking her gaze, he stalked over to a tall armoire and pulled open a drawer. His fingers skipped over a tray of small, compact cameras. He plucked a memory card from a slot and handed it over like he was signing his death warrant.
“Thanks,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Moving to her computer, she slid the card into the reader and then fired up some software that would hopefully work its magic.
A handful of tense minutes later, a perfectly usable video played on her screen. She froze on a shot of the white-haired witch.
The woman’s features were tight. Pained, even.
“How’d you do that?” Alistar asked.
“Magic,” she quipped. Not really, but she couldn’t seem to stop her biting comments.
She saved a copy of the video to a thumb drive and moved over to the tall, rolling table. A second later, she had Mariah’s picture splashed across the big screen. And next to it, the video of the fight played on a loop.
“I need to send this to The Council. To the other rings,” Alistar murmured, as he watched the video.
She could do that, but decided he needed to feel in charge again. Stepping aside, she turned her attention to the array of photos he’d organized on the top right screen.
Dirty. Dark. Like a cavern of evil.
Retrieving her coffee cup, she took a greedy sip.
“Who owns the warehouse?” she asked, staring up at the pictures. So much blood. So many bodies. Too much carnage.
The coffee cup wobbled in her fingers, but before it could pitch forward and smash against the hardwood flooring, Alistar was there, gathering the cup in his big, steady hand.
“Easy, little human.”
He sat the cup on the table.
Lexi took a deep breath. She couldn’t have a panic attack. Not now.
“You didn’t think to check that?” she asked, needing something to focus on other than the seasick butterflies in her stomach.
That rocked him back on his heels.
She recognized that for a moment he’d broken through his distrust to be kind. That gentleness would be her lifeline if she let it.
She couldn’t let herself, couldn’t trust him.
Fighting the tension in her neck, the tightness in her throat, she moved to the keyboard and started typing.
A few minutes later she’d pulled up the deed. “A holding company. Figures.”
“See what else they own.”
Bossy, bossy. But his voice, the firm tone, calmed the anxiety.
Then again, she’d been trying to put distance between them. His closeness made her focus on things like his lips, those long, elegant fingers, his sheer size. He dwarfed her, made her feel small and feminine and all the things she couldn’t afford to feel.
A little more digging and they had a list.
She wrote a quick script to pinpoint the locations on a map. When she looked up, he was completely still, watching her, his head cocked to the side as if he was trying to figure out a puzzle.
“What?”
“You’re good at this.”
“Yep.” She didn’t demure. There was no point. She was good at this. Maybe not much else, maybe not normal things, but she understood computers, and she knew how to use them to her advantage.
He stepped forward, his attention shifting to the map on the top right screen. He was so tall; he didn’t have to crane his neck to check out all the pinpoints.
“Any of those in the area?” she asked, looking for the warehouse. “Would she stay close by?”
It’d been five, almost six days. She could be halfway around the world by now. But perhaps there was unfinished business.
“It’s worth a look.”
A crash sounded from the back of the house, startling her. Alistar immediately moved to the doorway, peering down the hall.
Curiosity won out, and she followed him.
“Stay behind me,” he murmured.
No problem. She didn’t want to be the first to find out whatever had gone bump in the night. Sometimes, coming in second was A-okay.
Her lips twitched at the thought.
Alistar moved toward the rear of the house like a panther. Strong, silent, carefully stalking his prey.
When he eased into the kitchen, his shoulders relaxed. “Everything okay?” he asked.
She stopped next to him and found Byron picking up a tray’s worth of dishes.
“I am. Tripped over the rug.” He nodded to the small vintage runner next to the kitchen island.
Lexi closed the few steps between them and stooped to help him pick up the cups and saucers.
“Oh, I’ve got it,” he said.
She placed a small stack of plates on the tray. While she knew little about fine china, even she could tell that some pieces were old and finely made. A teacup lay in pieces.
“Bummer,” she said. She loved a good cup of tea, especially if it was in a fancy cup older than she was. She often wondered about who’d owned the piece before. What was their story? Who had they served tea to? Who’d held the delicate handle between their fingers, and what secrets had they shared?
“Thanks.” Byron took the handle and cup from her.
“No problem.”
He lifted the tray and placed it on the island.
“We’ll leave you to it,” Alistar said.
He hadn’t moved; in fact, he still had his hands clamped over his lean hips.
Ignore him, she told herself, then stepped around him and headed back down the hall.
She smelled an arrangement of fresh flowers on an antique table in the foyer. The Stigward certainly spared no expense in keeping their warriors happy and comfortable. But then again, they had important jobs to do and needed to focus.
Was that why Alistar had seemed so annoyed when Rhyse volunteered him to help her? Some Stigwardians she knew were so into their work that any change of pace was met with severe resistance. As stewards of the paranormal world, they rightfully took their job seriously.
Alistar sauntered into the conference room and stopped in front of the map of the holding properties.
“There are five within an hour’s drive.” He waved his hand in a circle around the map. “The warehouse is farther out.”
“There’s something over there in Mississippi.” She zoomed in and switched the map type to a show a satellite image of the area.
“Another warehouse?”
“Let me see if I can pull up a shot from street level.”
The street view didn’t help much. There was a berm, overgrown bushes, a broken fence.
“Looks abandoned,” Alistar said, hands on his hips again.
“Do you think it’s worth checking out?”
“All leads are worth checking. You never know which will bear fruit.”
Interesting. He hadn’t struck her as the philosophical type.
“Make a note of the addresses. Liam and Basil can check out a few of these closer ones.”
She pulled the addresses and compiled them into a file.
“Bring the list,” he said, heading for the door.
“I’m going with you?” she chirped.
She was supposed to be doing research, not going on field trips. Quickly, she sent the addresses to her phone and then scrambled after him, grabbing her stuff on the way.
As she slid her phone into her back pocket, he spun back. Towering over her, he was entirely in her space.
“Yes. You’re going. If you think I’m going to leave you here to snoop around, you’re mistaken.”
“I’m not going to snoop.”
“You’re right. You’re not. Byron has things to do. He can’t keep an eye on you.”
“You make me sound like a criminal.”
“Aren’t you? Hacker?”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“And whose idea was that?”
Well, he had her there. And the smirk gracing his handsome face said he knew it.
“Saddle up.”
Two words spoken in an almost-whisper. The intimacy, the way he stood so close, staring at her as if he was about to unravel all her secrets made her flush with heat. Or maybe he was waiting for her to back down, tuck tail and run.
Gore brought back memories she’d rather not think of. Blood made her stomach quiver. But she wasn’t a coward, and she’d prove it.
She hefted her pack and followed him through the house, down another corridor, and into a garage. He strode up to a mammoth black SUV, and it blinked as it unlocked.
Lexi was shocked that he bothered to open the passenger side door for her. He was a master of playing hot-and-cold.
She’d just tucked her bag into the space beneath the dashboard when she felt him move closer.
“For the record,” he said, his voice low, dripping with temptation. She turned to find him trapping her between the cab and his big body. “I adore women.”
His words hung in the humid air like a challenge. Her body responded immediately; everything soft and feminine inside her clenched with need.
But his declaration also brought her back to her earlier question about why he didn’t trust her. If he adored women, it was humans, or her in particular, he didn’t like. Which left so many questions. She wouldn’t, couldn’t give voice to them.
Especially when he was looking at her like he wanted to do more than adore her. Nibble on her, maybe.
She felt his gaze on her lips like a caress. Soft, light, barely there. Despite the barbs he tossed her way, he had the most kissable lips and the urge to stretch up and find out what they felt like was strong.
So strong.
Down, girl.
“Good to know,” she quipped lightly, and hauled her fanny into the massive, jet-black vehicle.
He snickered and shut her door. It was like he knew what she’d been thinking.
She watched him circle the hood, all confident swagger. Her skin heated to where she was sure she’d somehow gotten a sunburn in the last five minutes. Why was he able to turn her on in ways no other man ever had?
Scratch that.
She didn’t want to know. Couldn’t examine it. If she could focus on the fact that he clearly detested her and could, quite possibly, be the mole within the Stigward, she could keep her head.
She could keep some space between them.
He climbed behind the wheel and hit a button that opened the garage door.
Each movement was so smooth, so practiced that she realized she was watching him in his element. Standard operating procedure.
She, on the other hand, was not in her element anymore, and wished she was back at the table, behind her laptop.
“Don’t worry,” he drawled, as the vehicle rolled forward. “We shouldn’t find too many dead bodies.”
