Fever Claim (The Sigma Menace) (7 page)

BOOK: Fever Claim (The Sigma Menace)
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Jace paused, staring at the floor, elbows resting on his thighs. He wasn’t seeing the floor, he was seeing everything that had happened.

“When I ripped him off Maggie and threw him to the ground, he knocked over the end table and some papers spilled all over the floor. I was trying to figure out what to do when I saw what the papers were.”

Cassie still hadn’t moved, keeping her promise to not interrupt. What kind of doctor was she, to remain patient and not interject with questions while his memories threatened to overtake him?

“They were photos… of girls like Maggie—young, long dark hair, naked, tied to a bed. They appeared dead, their bodies battered. I knew he got away with it all and he was right. He’d get away with kidnapping Maggie. Maybe even try to finish the job another time. He had to be stopped. It all had to end, so I finished him.”

Cassie seemed to quit breathing. Then she folded her arms across her chest again. Her knee brushed his as she re-crossed her legs. He waited for her to get up and ask that one of them be removed from the room. He waited for her to cry
You’re a murderer?
And yes, he was.

“Go on,” she said. She was still looking at him. He hung onto that and looked up. She was guarded, but not disgusted or hostile. His head was even with hers since he was hunched over, elbows on thighs. He gazed into her warm brown eyes, the rest of his story was easy, except for the unknown ending of what she’d do.

“His family came after me with their legal team. Blamed me for the girls, for his death, everything. I pleaded guilty to the lesser charge of manslaughter and got eight years in prison and two years probation. My mom cut me off, my
sister
even cut me off. I brought attention to our family when Mom sacrificed everything to hide us in plain sight. Even the wolves wanted nothing to do with me, I might bring attention to our species.

“Commander Fitzsimmons came to talk to me in jail before my sentencing. All he said was ‘Human crime, human time. We have someone on the inside; you lose it in there we’ll put you down.’

“I did my time, got out, and got a job at Pale Moonlight. Christian’s a pack leader, takes in poor fucks like me who have no one and nowhere to go. Then you walked in, Cassie.”

She held her arms tighter, her crossed leg started bobbing again.

“I saw you and knew you were mine.”

 

 

Cassie ceased all movement, the rest of his story temporarily forgotten. Was he kidding? What did he mean she was his? He was sitting there, dressed head-to-toe in black with his shaved head, piercing eyes, and boots that screamed “my other car is a Harley.” He worked in a bar with bombshells showing off their artillery. Constantly. All. Night. Long. She was pretty secure and didn’t feel like she lost out in the looks department. She liked her shower-and-go hair and, with a wicked running habit, she enjoyed her desserts enough that she didn’t lean out too badly and lose her T&A. But for this guy to call her
his
? Like they were destined to be together?

“But you were with that guy,” Jace bit off the word, interrupting her thoughts. “I knew you were out of my league – the way you moved, the way you dressed, fuck, even your ex screamed class. I decided to wait. You’d realize he was wrong, you’d be drawn back to the club, we’d be together. I was impulsive once. I lost my life and my family. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake with you. So I waited.” Jace shrugged, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. Except she knew differently, practically seeing lightning rods of tension course through him.

She continued to stare at him. Her leg twitched again.

“Ask me anything,” Jace prodded.

“Are you saying you saw me and it was love at first sight?” she asked incredulously.

“We mate for life. You’re my mate.”

The leg stopped bobbing again. “And this wolf stuff. It’s real?”

“Yep.”

Cassie took a deep “so help me” breath and tilted her head back to look at the ceiling.
Dr. Stockwell, you are not allowed to lose your shit.

“But I’m human,” she said, feeling slightly absurd for having to make a point of it.

“Cassie, look at me,” Jace said.

She did. He reached forward and grasped her hands. His fingers brushed her breasts as he did so, making them sensitive and heavy. How did he still have that effect on her? Confessing that he wasn’t human, murdered someone, that she was his, and she got turned on when he brushed her breasts?

“We sense our mates, shifter or human, when we meet them. Human mates aren’t unusual but they aren’t common. We can spend decades looking for our mate, hoping we’ll be drawn together.”

WTF, did he just say decades?

He was so earnest, so sincere, and after all he told her, all she wanted to know was about the whole mate thing. “And what does
mate
mean exactly, in the werewolf world?”

“Shifters,” he corrected. “We are linked. For life. And Cassie, we live longer than humans.” He stopped to let that sink in.

“How much longer?”

A bit reluctantly, he said, “Centuries.”


What?

“As a human, when you bind with me, you’d share my lifespan.”

“Share lifespans,” she echoed, her mind reeling. Her rational mind argued with her buzzing emotions.

Abruptly, she stood up, dropping his hands, losing the warmth of his body, and paced at the end of the table in the tiny room. He stood slowly, but didn’t move toward her.

“Look, Jace, this is all,” she gestured all around her, “a lot. I need some time, room to breathe.”

“Cassie, I—,”

“You need to go.” She kept pacing, hands on hips. “No, you know what?
I
need to go. Where’s Kaitlyn?” She walked to the door and tried to open it, but they were locked in. She banged on it with her palm.

“Bennett!” Cassie called through the door. “Open up. I want to talk to Kaitlyn.”

She was about to pound again when the door swung open. She jumped back.

Bennett walked in. “Jace, you wanna give us a minute? I’d like to chat with Dr. Stockwell before I take her home.”

“Where’s Kaitlyn?” Cassie demanded.

“She’s talking to Master Bellamy. Jace, wait in the hall.”

“I’m not fucking leaving,” Jace said. He squared off with Bennett. The fair-haired man was only an inch shorter than Jace and not the least bit intimidated.

Cassie resumed pacing.

“Look man, give her some room,” Bennett said quietly. “I’m not going to hurt her. You know my life is protecting our people, including human mates.”

Cassie could just make out what he was saying. Some of the tension eased in the tiny interrogation room. She needed to learn about all of this world, find Kaitlyn, and with Jace next her, all she could think about was the word “mating.” When she heard that word, she remembered what his naked skin felt like on hers and wanted more.

“I’m okay, Jace. Please wait in the hall for me. I’m sure it won’t take long.” She hoped she hit on his major concerns and he didn’t argue.

Hurt flashed across his handsome features and was gone just as quickly. He turned to leave and Cassie yearned to go after him, suddenly not wanting to be alone in the room with the other male, craving only to be by Jace’s side. But she needed answers.

“Leave the door cracked,” Jace muttered.

 

***

 

“Dr. Stockwell, please have a seat.”

“Unless you’re my patient, it’s just Cassie.”
Unless you’re me. I call myself Dr. Stockwell all the time.
Especially when crazy happened—like when a patient breaks down mid-session and breaks her office window trying to escape when she was having him committed. Or when her best friend kills two people, then her BFF and the one night stand end up being werewolves. That’s full “Dr. Stockwell” territory.

“Cassie it is.” He pulled up a chair on the other side of the table. She sat back down in her chair, crossed her ankles, and folded her hands in front of her on the table.
Okay, Dr. Stockwell, get your shit back together
.

“We’d like to talk with you about Kaitlyn.”

“You’ll have to ask Kaitlyn about Kaitlyn.”

“Cassie, we want to help her.”

“Look Bennett, if she wants you to help her, she’ll let you. Other than that, Kaitlyn’s life isn’t mine to talk about.”

Bennett sat quiet for a while. Then he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Just one question, then. Have you ever seen her shift?”

Cassie barked out a laugh. “That would be no. I knew nothing about werewolves or shifters or whatever you call yourselves, until today.”

Bennett studied her. She studied him back. He was a real showstopper, with his dirty blond hair expertly tousled to look messy-chic and his dark blue bedroom eyes. His face, with smooth flawless skin, high cheekbones, and strong jaw, could look easygoing and friendly, as it did now, or hard and ruthless like back at the quarry when she first saw him.

Black cargos seemed to be the team’s uniform with a black shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders, chest, and biceps. He no doubt had washboard abs like a gym rat hooked on protein shakes. The amount of weapons strapped between shoulders and ankles definitely led to the “don’t fuck with me, but I’ll fuck you” appeal.

Yet for all his masculine appeal, he didn’t do it for her. She felt no stomach flutters, no inclination to flirt (like she ever did), and no breathlessness when she looked at his handsome face. All of that happened only when she thought of Jace, and he didn’t have to be in the building. 

Bennett’s lips spread in a sympathetic smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Gave you quite a shock, I imagine. You handled yourself well, staying calm, keeping quiet.”

Cassie nodded, encouraging the praise. It was Psych 101—sympathize and acknowledge the subject’s feelings, and she wanted to see what angle he was playing. He searched for information, but was it to help Kaitlyn, or use against her? Cassie wanted information, but instinctively knew Bennett didn’t plan on sharing.

“I suppose you got pretty street savvy once you became part of the system, going into foster care. You and Kaitlyn bonded pretty tightly, each with your own tragedy so you could understand each other.”

Did he really think this was going to work?
She nodded again.

“You fostered with her family, right? Her adoptive parents hoping an intelligent, mature girl could mentor Kaitlyn through the teenage years, which are rough enough for girls who haven’t lost their loved ones in unimaginable ways.” Bennett folded his hands on the table, leaning slightly forward like she was. He lost the smile, but kept the sympathy in his eyes.

The situation was absurd. Here was a guy, strapped head to toe with knives, more probably where she couldn’t see, at least two guns, and
are those throwing stars?
and he’s trying to Dr. Phil her into telling him about Kaitlyn.

There was nothing to tell. They seemed to know the two girls’ history together but unless they wanted to hear about first heartbreaks and embarrassing tampon stories, she didn’t know what they were looking for and she wouldn’t tell them if she did. She and Kaitlyn bonded over their past tragedies, beyond that they were normal women who had each other’s backs. They could ask Kaitlyn about her past. Good luck with that.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Cassie said, “unless you want to hear about the time the cops were called to a frat party when we were nineteen and we both bailed out of the window onto thorny rose bushes. It hurt, but we got away. The whole thing was a real pain the ass,” she deadpanned.

Bennett laughed with her. The sympathy replaced by determination.

“Cassie, help us understand how an adult shifter can live without transitioning, without anyone seeing her shift or knowing anything about her parentage.”

The hormones were ramping down with Jace out of the room, the adrenaline from the morning had worn off, and breakfast had burned off long ago. Hungry, tired, and pretty fucking irritated at the way Bennett was trying to play her—this is what she did for a living, dammit!—she sat forward a little more.

“Bennett, you seem cool—when you want to. You seem like you want to be my friend, someone safe in the land of big, bad wolves, someone I can tell my secrets to—if I had any. I bet you’re the responsible one, second-in-command it appears. You want to be seen as easygoing, dedicated, dependable. Am I right?”

Not waiting for an answer, she continued, “But don’t forget, Bennett, I’ve seen you at the club, coming out of the dark hallway, turning that country boy smile onto a woman looking for attention. I’ve seen your face after she takes the bait. It’s not delight. I’ve seen your face as you pass the jelly girl off to her friends after you’re done with her. It’s not satisfaction. Even more, I’ve seen you when you weren’t in The Den, sitting at the bar nursing a warm beer, lost in thought. If you were human, do you know what I’d think? That you’re broken inside.”

Bennett’s face lost all color, fading to a shade that could have been cut from stone.

“Someone destroyed you and you haven’t recovered,” Cassie said. “You’re all duct tape and super glue, being what everyone wants and expects you to be. Inside though, you’re falling apart. Worried how much longer you can do it and what happens when you can’t anymore. I’m here, if you want to talk. Otherwise, I, one, don’t know anything and, two, wouldn’t tell you anyway.”

Silence.

Finally, Bennett ran a hand through his hair and stood. Walking to the door he held it open for her.

“Why don’t we see what’s going on with your friend.”

Chapter Six

 

Kaitlyn felt human after her shower. But that was only temporary as she remembered that she may, in fact, not be as human as she thought. She hated lying to her friend, seemed like she’d been doing it for months. Lying by omission, if anything. She told Cassie everything, they were closer than sisters. Since Cassie spent her days listening to mental patients talk about their deepest secrets Kaitlyn was safe from any judgment for the way she lived her life. Lately, the pressure building in her each month, the need for extreme intercourse to release it, it wasn’t something she wanted to face herself, much less unload on her BFF. The last couple of months, she released it and crossed her fingers that was it, end of story. Until the uneasiness inside started again, like having butterflies, until it became so uncomfortable she could hardly walk. The worst case of lady blue balls, on steroids, times ten.

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