My father wasn’t taking any chances of a budding unrest due to the news, so he dispatched all out-of-town wolves back home. The wolves outside the Council had no idea I was a Lycan yet, but everyone now knew I was a full-blooded werewolf. That was enough until we dealt with the traitor and Colin Rourke.
The final agreed upon course was to keep a steady “business as usual” attitude and hope the traitor didn’t run. It was five o’clock now. Danny and I headed to my apartment so I could change and get ready.
When we arrived, I was surprised to see I had a new, fully operating front door. “That’s strange,” I said, checking my cell phone. There were no missed calls.
“What’s strange?” Danny asked, coming up behind me.
“My door was completely broken this morning, from when James ripped it off its hinges last night, but I forgot to let anyone know.” I’d totally spaced on calling Jeff Arnold, the building super. My brain had been a little preoccupied. It was hard to believe Jeff had come to investigate on his own. It just didn’t seem likely with his slack personality, but maybe Juanita had called him after all. She might have been tired of watching my place for me.
“That’s part of living in a building, right? They come and fix things for you.”
“I guess.” I walked over and knocked on Juanita’s door to see if she’d seen anything or talked to Jeff. I rapped on it, but there was no answer. I put my ear to the door just to be sure. I shrugged, turning to Danny. “Well, she didn’t have to stick around all day to keep watch over nothing if the door got fixed. She must have been the one to call Jeff.”
“Who?” Danny asked.
“Nothing.” I was actually relieved she wasn’t here. I’d felt bad all day thinking she might get into trouble at my request.
“Look here,” Danny said as he bent down and grabbed on to the edge of an envelope lying halfway under my door.
He handed it to me and I ripped it open. It was a new set of house keys.
By the time I’d showered, changed, and eaten, it was only six. The meeting wasn’t until eight. I walked into the living room, where Danny sat propped against the wall reading a newspaper he’d brought with him.
He whistled a catcall as he stood, folding the paper neatly under his arm. “Hold on a minute. We’re only trying to dismay this sot so he gives us information, not render him useless with desire.” Danny grinned.
“Give me a break.” I laughed. “I’m not trying to render anyone useless. If he’s as tough as everyone says, I hardly think he’ll be swayed to the point of silly by a black pantsuit.”
I’d actually chosen my outfit with care, knowing I’d be able to hide the weapons I might need with relative ease. The pantsuit was a tailored number. The bodice was tight across the middle, but cut loose enough in the sleeves to hide the two Bo-Kri throwing knives I had strapped to each arm.
The accompanying pants were snug at the waistline, but the flared legs concealed a small holster for my Glock, and a particularly evil-looking dirk. This time I was arming myself with as much as I could. I wasn’t going up against a known killer without adequate protection. I pinned my hair up in a chignon instead of a ponytail, the outfit carried an air of don’t-mess-with-me professionalism.
“Then you don’t know men,” Danny answered. “If you wore that pantsuit any better, I’d have to have you bloody arrested myself.” He came closer, leaning his head toward me. “Is that a wee bit of white lace I see peeking out of your very ample cle**age?”
“It’s called a camisole.” I snorted. “And for your information, it’s completely necessary with this outfit.”
“I’m certain it is, luv.” Danny chuckled. “Pairing that suit with anything less would be a complete travesty.”
“It only has a dusting of lace,” I said as I walked over to my purse. “Now get your pretty mind out of the gutter, Danny Walker, and let’s get out of here. I want to do some reconnaissance at the bar to get a better feel for the area before the meet.”
“Whatever you say. I’d follow that outfit anywhere.”
The bar was a relatively new hot spot, fairly close to my apartment building. Every Tuesday night, it seemed, they hosted an extended happy hour, so it was already hopping by the time we arrived. Minnesotans were notoriously after-work-happy-hour kind of people. For the most part, we liked to be home and tucked in by ten, and there was nothing like cheap drinks to lure out the masses.
Tyler met us across the street, handing me a button vibrator immediately. “We have every entry point covered within a two-block radius, and Nick is parked behind the bar. He’s got the other piece.” He nodded at the button. “But remember, now we have this”—he tapped his temple—“so you can let me know what’s happening immediately. I’ll be in close range, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Whatever you do, Jess, don’t leave the bar with him. Understand? He’s dangerous as hell, and completely unpredictable.”
“Got it.” I slid the panic button into my suit jacket pocket. “I’m not interested in finding any more trouble, Tyler. No need to worry about me, I’m all over the plan. Have you decided to stake the inside?” It’d been discussed but not determined.
“Nope, I decided it was too risky. If Rourke gets one whiff of wolf on the inside he may decide to cut and run,” Tyler said. “The plan is to track him when he leaves. But he’s a quick bastard, so I’m only giving us one-in-three odds of keeping a tail on him at all. You have to pump as much information as you can while you’re with him.”
I nodded. “My sole purpose is to gain information. I want to know where this threat is coming from. I’m not expecting him to divulge much, but anything we can get will be more than we have right now.”
“It’s not his style to snatch you here anyway, but keep your head up. You have to stay alert at all times.” Tyler ran a hand along the back of his neck. He was agitated. “Man, I don’t like it. I want to know what this guy is up to.”
“I don’t like it either.” Danny frowned. “This man is a known killer.”
“I know we can handle it,” I said. “And remember, if I don’t meet him, he comes to me. I don’t want a highly trained killer sneaking through my broken sliding glass door. My quota this month for nasty break-ins is passed its full mark.”