On the Prowl (24 page)

“I can be there, but I’d like to know what’s going on.”

“Sorry, I haven’t got time,” Mac dismissed him. “I’ve still got other phone calls to make. It’s only fair to warn you, you’re not the only one who needs to see this.”

“What’s that supposed to—”

Saskia heard the muffled click and realized the investigator had already hung up. She also realized that something very unpleasant had resulted from his digging.

Nicolas cursed. “I do not like the sound of this,” he growled as he replaced the receiver. “That changeling is up to something.”

“His eyeteeth, by the sounds of it,” Saskia agreed. “What do you think he meant by that last warning of his?”

She already knew what she believed, but she wanted to hear Nicolas’s take on the cryptic statement.

“I think he means that the bloodsucker and the lunatic are going to have their way after all.”

Saskia winced at the politically incorrect labels. “Bloodsucker” might be an accurate description of a vampire, but the myth about Lupines being controlled by the phases of the moon had been disproven ages ago. The insults did have a certain ring to them, though, and she figured that’s what he’d been going for. Still, she hoped he wouldn’t repeat them once the two men in question were present.

“I agree. I think Mac is going to have Vidâme and Winters—and De Santos, if he’s able—meet him at that same address he just gave us. I’m assuming that means that whatever he found is significant enough that he only wants to repeat it once.” She clasped Nicolas’s hand in hers and squeezed. “On the bright side, it might be the information we need to find out who really did this so we can get everyone off your back once and for all.”

Nicolas grunted, but he didn’t pull his hand away. He glared off into the distance, clearly not appreciating the last-minute change in plans. Saskia had begun to discover that her mate didn’t like being surprised. She’d have to remember that when his birthday rolled around.

She tugged at his hand to get his attention and brushed her lips over his when he looked down at her. “Hey, don’t worry,” she reassured him. “I’m sure they’ll be more interested in finding out what Mac has discovered than in making trouble with us. And if I’m wrong and any of them tries anything, I’ll knock him into next week.”

Nicolas didn’t appear to appreciate her teasing. “You’re not going.”

She bit back a sigh. Damn it, hadn’t they already discussed this?

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not. Saskia, we already discussed this. I am not comfortable putting you in danger, and this meeting with so many hostile Others definitely counts as danger. You’ll stay here, and I will tell you everything Mac has to say just as soon as I get back.”

“Nicolas, I won’t be in any danger,” she said, struggling for patience.

Sometimes talking to him resembled talking to a mountain—both were large, obdurate, and immovable—but she couldn’t just give in and let him run roughshod over her. It would mean giving up all the progress she’d worked for over the last few days.

“First of all, it’s the middle of the day, and we’ll be meeting somewhere in the city, which means there is absolutely no chance that there won’t be other people around.” She ticked off points on the fingers of her free hand. “Second, Mac will be there as a neutral third party. Or fourth, or seventh, for that matter. I sincerely doubt the Others would be stupid enough to try to harm either of us in the presence of a witness. And third, I will be standing right by your side. If you’re there to protect me, I can’t possibly be in any danger.”

“Your faith in me is flattering, but I’m one man against three, if Vidâme, Winters, and De Santos all show up,” he said tightly. “The odds aren’t particularly in my favor.”

“One against two. Remember, I saw how De Santos looked last night. Even if he’s recovered enough to come to this meeting, there’s no way he’s up to fighting weight.”

“Still,” Nicolas growled.

Saskia sighed. “Nicolas, I understand your concern; really I do. I appreciate that you feel protective of me and want to keep me out of harm’s way, but you can’t tuck me away in the closet whenever you leave for fear of my getting hurt. A) it would drive me insane and make me hate you, and B) … I’m a big girl. I have fangs and claws of my own. I can take care of myself.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.”

“And you shouldn’t have to work so hard to clear your name when anyone who knows you knows that you would never do something so despicable as to attack an enemy from behind. I don’t think ‘shouldn’t’ means a whole lot right now.”

“It means something to me.”

“I know.” She lifted his hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against his palm. “And this means something to me, being able to stand by your side when you’re facing an unpleasant situation. I’m your mate, Nicolas. That is where I’m supposed to be. Besides, I have a third point you haven’t let me get to yet.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Third, if what Mac has for us to see is really as important as he seems to think it is, you should have as many eyes looking at it as possible. This could be a key to this whole big mess, but what if you miss something? What if there’s some angle of the evidence you just don’t catch? Two heads are better than one, right?”

She could see he wanted to protest and found herself holding her breath. This was important to her, for more than one reason. Not only did she need Nicolas to become accustomed to having her at his side as his mate and his built-in support system, he also needed to accept that she had more to offer their relationship than just her body. She had been raised to understand all the nuances of Tiguri politics, to observe people and behavior, to perceive motives, and to uncover clues hidden in small details of word, action, or setting. She could really help him in this. He needed to know that, and she needed to know that he knew.

He stared down at her for several minutes, not blinking, just watching her with troubled jade eyes. “You’re not going to budge on this, are you?”

She shook her head. “It’s your turn to compromise.”

“How did I know you were going to say that?”

*   *   *

Less than a week after his engagement and Nic barely recognized himself, he thought in disgust. What had happened to the man with the well-ordered life? The man who ran his family’s company with a steady hand and his streak with a powerful paw?

Right. The woman sitting next to him had happened.

Nic steered the car through city traffic, his eyes on the road and his gaze turned inward. What on earth had made him think that Saskia would make a quiet, comfortable mate? Clearly, he’d been under some sort of delusion. Maybe it was those distracting blue eyes, or the classic purity of her features. Hell, maybe it was the fact that they hadn’t exchanged more than a couple of dozen words with each other before binding themselves together. Whatever the explanation, Nic had found himself decidedly
un
comfortable for most of the last five days.

What really disturbed him, though, was that he could no longer imagine his life without the sweet, stubborn tigress by his side. That knowledge threatened to cut him off at the knees.

Saskia had been right in all the points she had made during her argument to come along—two heads were better than one, especially when he had no doubt that the second head belonged to someone firmly on his side. His mate looked so sweet and feminine and fragile that at times he forgot how intelligent she was, how observant and well-informed. Not to mention how stubborn. He could well imagine that she might see something that he overlooked, or that she might be able to lend a new interpretation to evidence that he hadn’t thought of. That knowledge filled him with pride, even as he struggled with the desire to wrap her up in cotton batting and store her someplace safe where she’d never be in a moment’s danger. Already, she had become too important to him to lose. He hadn’t planned for this.

“Are you sure we’re headed to the right place?” Saskia asked, gazing out the window at a graffiti-painted storefront, the windows obliterated and the space clearly abandoned. “This neighborhood is looking a little … dodgy.”

If by “dodgy” she meant “like a war zone.”

Nic glanced at the street signs and pressed his lips together. “This is the right place. The address Mac gave us should be coming up on the left.”

Nic now regretted not using a driver to ferry them to the location. When they had left the apartment, he’d just wanted as few people involved in this situation as he could manage, since it felt as if that decision had already been taken out of his hands; but seeing their destination, he decided it couldn’t have hurt to have brought another male along to keep an eye on Saskia. Or rather, on anyone who dared lay an eye on Saskia.

Pulling the car to a stop, Nic looked around, then eased toward the curb, almost sorry to see a parking space magically waiting for them. He would have preferred the excuse not to stay in this neighborhood, let alone to leave the sleek Mercedes here unattended.

“Well, I’ll give Mac one thing,” Saskia said, blowing out a long breath. “He certainly knows how to keep things interesting.”

“In the Chinese sense of the word.”

Nic thought they might be in for a very interesting time indeed.

“Stay close to me,” he ordered as he reached for the door latch. “Not only do I not like you being here; now I don’t like you being
here
. You get more than eighteen inches away from me and it’s going to make me cranky. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Her immediate agreement told Nic that his mate didn’t feel any better about this outing than he did. If he hadn’t already spotted Mac waiting for them near the mouth of an alley, Nic would have turned the car around and headed back home. Where he could keep his tigress safe.

Saskia actually reached out and took his hand as they moved down the sidewalk toward the private investigator. Luckily, none of the three had dressed up for the meeting, but the very fact that they all wore clean, neat, obviously well-made clothing was enough to have them standing out like sore thumbs in the poverty-ravaged area. Nic felt a small measure of reassurance in seeing that Mac, though positioned casually leaning on the wall of the closest building, watched their surroundings with wary eyes, clearly alert to any danger.

At least he wasn’t a complete idiot.

“Jesus, Callahan, what the hell are we doing here?” Nic demanded, halting in front of the other man. “Is there a reason we had to have this meeting in the fifth circle of hell?”

Mac pushed away from his wall and extended his hand. “Unfortunately, there is. I’m glad you managed to find the place.” He looked around him and grimaced. “It’s not exactly on any of the local tourism maps.”

“That’s because the only map it belongs on is the kind that’s color coded according to the homicide statistics.” Nic set his jaw and shifted closer to his mate. “I don’t like being here, and I really don’t like Sass being here, so let’s make this quick, shall we?”

“As soon as the others get here, we’ll get started.”

Saskia stepped in before he could blast that idea out of the water. “Can you at least tell us why we’re here while we’re waiting?”

“Because this is where Rafe nearly got himself torn to pieces last night.”

Nic jerked back at that revelation. “Here? Christ, why would De Santos be wandering around this shithole after dark? Is that what he does in his spare time? Go slumming?”

“As a matter of fact, I was looking for information to help your ungrateful ass,” a voice growled behind them.

Nic half-turned to see two of his least favorite people in the world stroll toward them. Well, Graham Winters strolled. Rafe De Santos barely managed a limping echo of his normal graceful glide. Sympathy drew a reflexive wince from Nic. Sass had described the Felix’s injuries to him, but she hadn’t gotten a good look before the Others had whisked De Santos upstairs. If this was how he appeared the next day, even with the advantages of a shifter’s healing abilities, Nic was amazed the jaguar was still breathing.

Curiously, even given De Santos’s obvious, if temporary, handicaps, not a single one of the watchful, greedy presences scattered here and there along the street made any move to approach the men to demand money or valuables, or just to have the satisfaction of making someone else’s day just a little more miserable. Or maybe it wasn’t curious. Any creature blessed with the slightest hint of intelligence or perception would be able to recognize the predator in the two men. It covered them like a shadow, a dark air of danger even a human would have a hard time ignoring.

“Where’s Dmitri?” Mac asked quickly. “I know it’s daylight, but he said he’d figure out a way to make it.”

“He’s here,” Graham said. “We recognized the address, so Rafe told him exactly where the attack happened. He’ll meet us there. He’s just taking the darker way around.”

“Fair enough. In that case, let’s go.”

They followed the changeling into the alley. Nic had to concentrate hard to block out the fetid odors of urine, garbage, vomit, and traces of old blood, not to mention the underlying stink of poverty and despair. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his mate swallow hard, and he squeezed her hand reassuringly. Three-quarters of the way down the dark, dead-end space, Mac headed for a doorway only half-covered by a broken green door. The cheap plywood bled through the thin layer of colored stain, and whoever had reinforced the flimsy barrier with a z-shaped configuration of two-by-fours nailed over it hadn’t even bothered to try staining those. They had weathered to a sick, silvery gray color, except where rain and other unidentifiable liquids had caused the green color to bleed into the porous wood.

Bolted to the brick, a metal latch flapped uselessly. The other half that secured on to the door itself was missing, perhaps still attached to the equally missing section of plywood from the door’s center edge. The damage had happened so long ago that the ragged, splintered edges of the hole had also bleached gray and sickly.

Graham made a noise of disgust as Mac pushed the door open on a pitch-black space inside the brick shell. “Christ, Rafe. You went in here willingly? What the hell were you thinking?”