I stood and stretched. It was after five and I needed to run a few errands before Nick and I met with the lovable Drake Jensen. I was eager for him to make his move tonight, so we could be done with it.
“Have you talked to Dreamsicle yet?” Marcy asked pointedly as I passed her desk on my way out.
“I have. And he did sound pretty darn dreamy. I’m meeting with him tomorrow evening at eight o’clock to discuss the case.”
“Okay, I’ll jot it down.” I watched her simply mark tomorrow night’s calendar date with a big heart. Smartass. “And just so you know, I have a good feeling about this one,” she said with a saucy wink.
“You say that about everyone.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re starting to lose credibility. Plus, you know I never date clients. It goes against my high ethical standards.”
“When you’re done with the job, he won’t be your client anymore. Voilà,” she said. “And I’m bound to be right one of these times. I have witchy instincts, you know.”
I chuckled. “If Nick calls, tell him I’ll pick him up at six-thirty.” He’d been gone all day, which wasn’t unusual. We were both out of the office a lot. His current case was trying to track down a mystery graffiti artist whose art enthralled those who came too close. It was a tough one.
“I’ll be sure to do that,” Marcy said.
I walked to the door.
“And, Jess?”
“Yep?” I turned.
“I’m really glad you’re back.”
“I’m really glad to be back.” I smiled.
“No need to get a big head about it.”
7
I shut my car door and a soft ping floated through my head, followed by my brother’s voice. Heading home already?
Yep, but I’m leaving on another assignment in a couple of hours with Nick. It should be no big deal, just a stakeout. Are you nearby?
I’m a couple blocks away. I can see your car from where I’m standing. Everything’s been quiet on all fronts.
That’s a relief. I glanced out my window and down the street. I couldn’t see Tyler or his completely unsubtle shiny red Mustang anywhere, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see me. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but nothing sounds perfectly great to me.
Nick is in charge of covering you tonight, so if you two decide to split up you have to give me a call.
Okay. Have you heard anything new from up north? I was hoping the wolves on the Compound had calmed down overnight.
I haven’t heard anything specifically. Dad still has everybody on lockdown now. They were going to have several meetings about it today. I don’t think they’re buying you haven’t changed, and Hank has been on a rampage, shouting garbage about you as usual.
Shit. That’s not good. Well, to top off that crappy news, Ray Hart is the detective on my case.
The ass**le who gave you trouble on the force?
The very same. He also found my tranq. They have it at the lab as we speak. He thinks it’s highly illegal and is hoping to pin it on me.
We should’ve taken care of him years ago.
Killing people is not always the perfect solution to everything. Dad didn’t think it was a problem and has Doc on it already. They’ll come up with something plausible. I also told Ray I wasn’t home because I was camping with my new boyfriend, James.
He half snorted half coughed.
Yes, and to top it off, we were so madly in love he made me forget my purse and all the necessities a normal person needs on vacation.
Tyler laughed. That’s a good one. I’m sure James will play along; he’s a good guy, even though that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time. And don’t worry about trouble cropping up, one of us will be close by from now on, including Danny. I’ll get you a Pack cell phone shortly. You can use that to get a hold of the rest of us. The Pack changed their cells more often than an infant soiled their diaper. I’d never bothered with one. Honestly, if I’d had a problem big enough to bother Pack with prior to this—I might as well have just used my own damn phone.
I know, I saw Danny today. It was nice to see a friendly face, especially if a storm of discontent is on its way. He was exactly the same. Nothing ever changes with him.
Danny is loyal to Pack. You can trust him with your life.
I was curious about our brain connection. When we were kids, we were never farther than a few miles away from each other. How far away do you think we can do this mind thing from? Do you think there are stipulations? Like mind-wave distance boundaries or something?
Pretty far, I’d assume. I was outside the city limits all day, just got back. I wanted to touch base before you went home, so this was the easiest way.
It was my turn to snort. You mean you were ordered by Dad to check up on me to see if I was still breathing once you got back into town? To make sure no rogue wolves or trusted Pack mates have torn me to pieces yet?
That too. He chuckled.
I sobered. Tyler. I paused. How long do you think we really have until my shift to full blooded blows up in our faces? Before there’s no turning back? I desperately want my life to go back to normal, but it doesn’t seem remotely possible. I want you to tell me the truth. The honest-to-goodness, in-my-face truth.
Honestly? He sighed. I don’t have a clue. If we can quiet the Pack, we gain time. If not … I don’t know. What happened to you is completely unprecedented. None of us have any idea what we’re dealing with yet. We have no way to know how the community will react to the news. The wolves have always feared the Cain Myth, but other supes might have that information too. I have no idea what they’ll choose to do with it, if anything.
I’m fooling myself, aren’t I? Thinking I can just go back to my normal life like nothing’s happened—like I’m not a freak of nature. Like there’s not going to be an army rising up against me at the first opportunity.
No. I don’t think you’re fooling yourself. You’re not the type. He paused for a moment. I think we’re doing the right thing here. If we have any chance of keeping the biggest secret in supernatural history under wraps—and us werewolves are known for our secrecy, make no mistake about it—then you need to be right where you are now, pretending nothing has happened. If it does happen to get out, it happened to Jessica McClain, who is currently in parts unknown, not to Molly Hannon, who’s been minding her business while this story unfolds. He cleared his throat, which sounded odd. I think if we keep your alias intact, we have a shot. I really do.