Mated

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Authors: Desiree Holt

BOOK: Mated
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A Total-E-Bound Publication

www.total-e-bound.com

 

 

Mated

ISBN #
978-0-85715-373-9

©Copyright Desiree Holt 2010

Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright December 2010

Edited by Andrea Grimm

Total-E-Bound Publishing

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

 

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

 

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

 

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

 

Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank,
Ruston
Way
, Lincoln,
LN6 7FL
, United Kingdom
.

 

 

Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated
Total-e-burning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Sentinels

 

MATED

 

 

Desiree Holt

 

 

 

 

Dedication

 

 

As always to David, my personal hero, who watches over me with the
angels.

You gave me the courage to be myself.

 

 

Trademarks Acknowledgement

 

 

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following
wordmark
mentioned in this work of fiction:

 

Google: Google Inc.

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

“I want to thank all of you for showing up here for me.”

Regan Matthews Spencer stood at the head of the table in the conference room at The Sentinels. On either side of her were the eight Sentinels, including her husband, Brian, and the newest additions. Ann Marie Knight, Drew Noland’s wife. Sierra Hart, married to Brian’s brother, Luke. And Mack
Renfield
, recently wed to Sentinel Kelsey Bryant. Like the eight original members of the protection agency, Ann Marie and Mack were also shifters. This meant that when they were needed in their wolf form, the team had additional help.

Now Regan, an assistant prosecuting attorney who had met Brian when she herself hired The Sentinels, was asking their help with a very personal problem.

“No problem, Regan.” Drew Noland smiled at her. “We’re all here for each other.”

“Well, I know you and Ann Marie…” she looked around the table, “and you,
Cale
, drove in from your ranches because I asked for the full team, and I really appreciate it.”

“You’re one of us,” her sister-in-law, Sierra, Luke’s wife, pointed out.
“You ask, we’re here.”

Regan smiled, although it was a strained expression. “Well, thanks, anyway. This is very important to me. I may not need all of you but I wanted everyone’s input.”

“When did your friend disappear?”
This from
Cale
Martin.
Lean and dark, with thick black hair, he looked every bit the rancher he was. His ranch in the Hill Country was near Drew and Ann Marie’s and they’d driven in to the meeting caravan fashion.

 
“It’s actually my friend’s sister.
Linnea
Porter and I started in the prosecutor’s office together and we’ve always been very close. Some of you met her at our wedding.” She looked around the table again.

“Sorry,” he apologised.
“My mistake.
But if she’s that close to you then her sister’s disappearance has to have hit you hard, too.”

“Yes, it has. I met Cathy a number of times and I agree with
Linnea
. This isn’t someone who would just walk away from her friends and family without a word.”

Brian uncurled himself from his relaxed pose. “She’s been a great friend to Regan and me, so I’d really like it if we helped out with this.
Linnea’s
really distraught over her sister’s disappearance. Cathy Porter isn’t an irresponsible person, so you can bet something’s wrong here.”

“Especially since the police haven’t been able to find any trace of Cathy Porter in almost a month,” Regan added.


Linnea’s
at the end of her rope,” Brian told them. “Like Regan said, the investigation’s going nowhere and I think the cops are getting ready to stick it in the cold case files.”

“When was the last time someone saw her?” Mack Renfrew asked. When he and Kelsey Bryant had gotten married The Sentinels had added him to their group. Now he, Kelsey, and Luke and Sierra Spencer ran a northeast office of the agency in
Maine
where they all lived.

Regan took a deep breath and looked at her notes, although she knew the story by heart. “According to both
Linnea
and Cathy’s boyfriend, the last anyone saw her was when she left for work on a Thursday morning. She works for The Gage Foundation, one of the biggest philanthropic foundations in the city. She had some calls to make out of the office, checking on fund recipients. She was getting ready to do the monthly reports to donors and she had some questions she wanted answers to first. No biggie. She did that a lot.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Talking about this always upset her. “Anyway, she never showed up at the office and no one’s seen her since then.”

“I’m sure the cops checked with everyone she saw that day,” Mack commented.

Regan nodded. “Yes.
More than once.
But it’s like she just disappeared into thin air.” She looked at Brian.

He smiled at her and leant forward in his chair. “The thing is,” he told them all, “we’re already at the point where the trail’s cold and people’s memories are fading. If we don’t do something soon, we may never know what happened to her.”

”People don’t just disappear,” Luke stated. “There’s always a reason. Someone helps that along. If the police are getting ready to write it off, something needs to be done quickly.”

Regan looked around the table. “Can you help? Will you help? I have a retainer check from
Linnea
in my purse if you say yes.”

Before anyone could say anything
Cale
cleared his throat. “I think we should.
Definitely.”
He let his gaze travel over everyone. “Before I met you guys I had a
nonshifter
friend who had a brother who disappeared. Turned out he’d hung out with the wrong people, gotten hooked on drugs and overdosed in some crack house. The cops were ready to write him off as just another druggie who faded into oblivion, but the family was destroyed. They at least wanted to know if he was dead or alive, and if he was dead, to give him a decent burial. My friend and I jumped in where the cops had left off and were able to find the answers.” He ran his fingers through his thick hair. “They were sad at what had become of him, but they were happy to have the answers they needed and to be able to close that chapter.”

“I don’t think drugs are the problem with Cathy Porter,” Regan said. “She’s pretty much a straight arrow.”

“I’m just saying,”
Cale
told her, “that I know how survivors feel. We need to get your friend some answers.
Whatever they turn out to be.”

“Are you willing to take the lead in this, then?” Brian asked.

“Yes.”
Cale
nodded.
“Absolutely.”

“Thank you very much,
Cale
.” Regan gave him a grateful smile. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you stepping forward.”

He shrugged. “You know if I hadn’t, someone else would. We’re a team, Regan.
A family.”

Regan looked from
Cale
to Brian and back again.
“So what now?”

“I’ll go talk to
Linnea
,”
Cale
said. “That would be first on my list.” He looked at Regan. “Can you give me her address?”

“Yes.
And her phone number.”
She pulled her PDA from her briefcase along with a tiny notebook. Pulling up the information on her PDA, she wrote down the information but hesitated before handing the slip of paper to
Cale
.

“Is there a problem?”
Cale
asked.

“What is it, honey?” Brian asked at the same time.

“She’s…a little fragile right now. Anxious and depressed because the police not only haven’t gotten anywhere but seem to think Cathy may have just walked off on her own. Even though there was nothing leading up to that day that might have signalled that. The worst part is they’ve even suggested maybe she and Cathy were into something that caused her disappearance.”

Cale
raised an eyebrow. “Why would they think that?”

She shrugged.
“Because they can’t find answers anywhere else.
I can tell you, it hasn’t helped her state of mind.
Linnea’s
really upset about the way the whole thing has been handled and that more days keep passing without any hint of what happened. She swears Cathy would never just walk off like that and I believe her. So she’s kind of an emotional basket case. We need to be…kind to her.”

 
“Regan.”
Cale
leaned towards her. “Of all of us, because of what happened with my friend, I’m probably the one who knows best the delicate nature of something like this. Trust me. I’ll take good care of her.”

“One last thing.
And you really need to know this.”

“Lay it on me.”

“She knows The Sentinels are shifters.”

Conversation erupted again, and Brian let loose a piercing sound to get everyone’s attention.

“Cool it, folks,” Brian told them. “She’s one of Regan’s closest friends and spends a fair amount of time with us. She dropped in on us unexpectedly one night. I had just come from a run and wasn’t paying attention so I didn’t know Regan had company.
My bad.”

“Did she freak?” Luke wanted to know.

“A little, at first.
But then, when we told her what the situation was, she actually seemed fascinated.
Which is kind of weird, because usually humans tend to give us a wide berth when they find out about us.
And
Linnea’s
not normally
an…
adventurous person. But she’s not only accepting of this but wants to learn more about it. We lent her some books to read.”

“She’s been unbelievably accepting of it,” Brian told them. “And it seems the more she learns, the more she wants to learn.”

Sierra exchanged a glance with Regan. “I think the two Spencer wives are proof that not all humans run away from shape shifters.” She grinned. “And aren’t we lucky we didn’t?”

Luke winked at her, a tiny note of humour in a tense situation. “I think Brian and I are the lucky ones.”

“And,” Regan added, grinning herself, “she did say one of the reasons she wanted to hire The Sentinels was because she thought shifters could do things the police couldn’t.
So.
Are we still good to go?”

Cale
nodded.
“After that introduction?
Absolutely.”

“You might keep this in mind,” Brian told him. “She did want to know where she could get a shifter of her own.”

“Seriously?”
Sierra asked, linking her fingers possessively with her husband’s.

“Like I said,
Linnea’s
…different,” Regan added.

“Different good or different bad?”
Cale
wanted to know. “What should I be prepared for?”

Regan laughed. “You’ll like her. That’s all I’m going to say.”

The meeting broke up and they all headed out of the small stucco building that housed their office.


Cale
?”
Regan had hurried to catch up with him. “I just wanted to say thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

He touched the brim of his cowboy hat. “I hope I can help her.”

 

* * * *

 

Cale
pulled his truck to the kerb and parked it, turned off the lights and sat studying
Linnea
Porter’s house. He’d spent the day setting things up with his ranch manager, not knowing how long he’d be in the city, telling the man he’d check back with him to let him know. Then he’d driven up to San Antonio, waiting until he knew
Linnea
Porter would have had time to get home and have something to eat.

He’d found her with Google Street View, so he had a fair idea ahead of time not only of where she lived but what her house looked like. Constructed of brick and stucco, its two stories rose gracefully from a decent size lawn, the doors guarded by lush crape myrtles. An ancient oak tree spread its branches at the front of the yard and with the glow of the street lamp and his wolf’s eyes he saw that the backyard fell away to a forested area. He’d guess she’d either bought the house a long time ago or inherited it, because this kind of real estate at the far northwest end of the city was pretty pricey.

Last night when he’d returned to the ranch he’d stayed up a while and
Googled
her to see what he could find. There was precious little out there other than her official bio put out by the prosecutor’s office as well as some articles about cases she’d tried. Although there’d been a lot of professional information about her on the Internet there had been almost nothing personal about her. She was single and an assistant prosecuting attorney who appeared to have a good track record and was known as a hard nose when it came to violent crimes. Good for her.
His kind of woman.

But he wondered again why a single woman wanted to live in such a big house. Nothing he’d read gave him a clue.

Locking the truck, he climbed the steps to her porch and rang the doorbell. The door opened and
Linnea
Porter stood there backlit by the light from her living room. His groin tightened and his wolf growled.
Linnea
Porter was definitely not what he’d expected. He’d been looking for a tall, tough female with a no nonsense look. This woman took his breath away. He figured her for about five foot four. The t-shirt and jeans she wore fit perfectly on a slender body and the soft fabric of the shirt fell casually against high, round breasts. A delicate face with huge green eyes was accented by a tumble of glossy black hair that fell in a straight curtain to her shoulders.


Cale
, right?”
Her voice was soft, but with a definite hint of steel behind it. He recognised the habitual tone of the prosecutor.

“Yes, ma’am.”
He touched the brim of his hat.

“Come in.” She stepped back to allow him to enter.

He followed her from the wide foyer into the living room, taking in the spaciousness of the house.

“I hope I won’t offend you,” he said, “if I say this seems like a lot of house for one person. And I didn’t think a prosecutor’s salary ran to this neighbourhood.”

Her eyes flashed fire. “Meaning I must be getting my money somewhere else?
Maybe something not quite so up front?”

”Whoa.”
Cale
held up a hand. “I said I hoped I didn’t offend you. I was just making a comment.”

As quickly as it had sparked, the anger died. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I just reach my flashpoint a little more easily these days. The police keep trying to insist that Cathy and I were into something…shady, and that had something to do with her disappearance.” She sighed. “They’ve been into everything at my office so much my boss finally told them to back off or he’d take out a restraining order against the police department.”

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