The Covert Wolf (3 page)

There.

Before a short set of stairs, the suit had pinned the woman against the wall. No one else was around. Black briefcase lying on the cement, opened, papers spilled out. The suit flashed a dark smile, his fingers splayed along the female’s throat. Light glinted off the polished metal of the knife he held against her throat. A thin trickle of blood dripped onto her pristine white collar.

Matt suppressed a low growl and remained still, gauging the best move. He didn’t want one more drop of blood spilled. Except from that bastard.

Even as he started forward, his footsteps silent, the woman glanced at him. She rolled her eyes. At the very same time, the attacker turned his head.

Matt sprang forward, but the woman punched her would-be molester in his soft stomach, sending him reeling. Cursing, he raced forward.

The suit recovered, his face tomato-red. He came at her, the wicked blade raised.

She snarled and flung out her hands, raising her shoe. Her pointed shoe. The tip landed straight in the man’s groin.

Wincing, Matt watched as the suit let out a high-pitched, unholy scream. He cupped his groin, the knife tumbling to the floor with a clatter.

The woman kicked him again. This time the man yowled like a cat. The Draicon female studied him with a look of satisfaction.

Matt squatted down besides the attacker, squeezed a nerve on his shoulder. The suit fell unconscious as the Draicon female retrieved a cell phone from her briefcase. She thumbed in 911 and spat out instructions, then hung up.

Blood dripped from the small wound, staining the white collar of her shirt.

“You can leave now,” she told Matt in a rigid voice.

The dismissal was curt and brisk. Matt stared in disbelief.

“I know you’re not deaf, because I saw your reaction when I called you a dog. So, are you going to leave? I’ve got this.”

He gritted his teeth. “I was trying to help.”

She rolled those lovely eyes again. “Thanks for the help, hero.”

“He cut you.” His tone was curt, hiding the concern.

She wiped the droplets off her neck. “It’s just a flesh wound.”

At his hard stare, she shook her head and bent over, showing the delectable curve of her bottom as she gathered papers into her briefcase. “Not a
Monty Python
fan. ’Course not. Draicon hotshots like you prefer
Lassie.
Although I doubt you have half the strength of Lassie.”

“Stop it.”

Glancing up, her eyes widened at his sharp tone. He clenched his fists as she snapped the briefcase shut.

“You can defend yourself. I get it. You don’t want help. I don’t need an instruction manual. But the Lassie dig—” Matt struggled with his rising temper “—has to go. I don’t know who knocked the brick off your pretty little shoulder, sweetheart, but it wasn’t me. So ditch the dog references, got it?”

He heaved in a controlling breath. “I’m not your enemy.”

Eyes wide and green as soft moss held his gaze for a moment. The previous misery had returned, making her look vulnerable and young.

“That’s what you think,” she said softly.

With a sharp turn of her polished heels, she slipped up the stairs and vanished from sight.

Matt rubbed his aching neck. This had been the ultimate bitch of a morning.

Couldn’t wait to see what the afternoon would bring. Lieutenant Commander Dale “Curt” Curtis, commanding officer of SEAL Team 21, had scheduled a top-secret briefing about the pyrokinetic demons who’d targeted Matt and Adam. His C.O. had told Matt to prepare for a new assignment.

With a new partner.

Even though he dreaded the idea of a new partner, Matt welcomed the chance to kick demon ass. If a new partner meant finding the leak, so be it.

As for the lovely, contemptuous Draicon… An ominous foreboding filled him.

He had a bad feeling he would see her again.

Very soon.

Chapter 2

T
he upscale hotel in Times Square boasted a grand view of the bustling streets and the colorful theater marquees. Sienna tapped her foot as she waited in the crowded lobby bar. Odd place for a meeting.

She ran a finger down the glass of water, catching a drop of condensation. Sienna brought it to her mouth, slowly licked it off. She sensed someone staring, and turned.

Son of a jackal…

Leather Jacket Draicon focused on her with a laser blue stare. Those eyes tracked every move her finger made, his gaze smoldering, his mouth compressed.

Had he followed her? And why? Her heart pounded hard at the idea. She studied the werewolf.

Heat surged through her, curling the tips of her toes in their not-so-sensible heels. He resembled a fallen angel with a face sculpted by an artisan’s chisel and cold blue eyes that could cut steel. Limbs sprawled out before him in a position of utter confidence, he looked dangerous.

He shifted position, the move opening his jacket and revealing a pistol strapped to his side. Sienna felt blood drain from her face.

Armed all this time.

Not a man, or a Draicon, to mess with.

As if he read her mind, he lifted the mug of beer in a mock salute and drank deeply. Fascinated, she watched the muscles in his throat work. He set down the glass, his gaze never leaving her as he backhanded his mouth.

“Woof,” he murmured.

Then he stood, dropping a few bills on the table, and left. Crimson flooded her cheeks.
I deserved that.

“Oh, I love your Jimmy Choos!”

Startled, she turned. A buxom blonde in a print dress stood before her table. At her side was a severe-looking businessman, a hint of silver in his short-cropped dark hair. He carried an expensive leather briefcase and wore a gray suit with a crisp red tie. The blonde was gorgeous. She carried a large designer purse on her arm and was staring at Sienna’s footwear.

Rather, her legs.

“Such fabulous shoes,” she gushed. “They display your legs nicely. You have great legs.”

“Samantha’s a connoisseur of fine footwear,” the man said. He gave her a small smile. “I apologize for taking up your time.”

The woman simpered, and squeezed Sienna’s hand. “Have a lovely day, darling!”

As they walked off, Sienna glanced down at her palm. In it was a card key in a white envelope that had instructions printed across it.

Her contacts. In disguise, most likely.

As her heart raced with trepidation, she put the card in her purse. This was worse than she’d been told if they couldn’t even meet in the open. Maybe she should back off. It wasn’t too late.

And then what? Go home in defeat? Live alone for the rest of her life, wondering what the black hole in her mind hid?

Finding the Orb meant more than acceptance back into her Fae colony. It meant recovering her lost memories. Everything in her early childhood was a panicked blur. Flashes of a forest, quiet waters and the terror of being shoved into a dark hollow, screams of terror raging around her, a hot crimson igniting the night sky… The snarls of a wolf, teeth bared as it tore into throats, blood splashing and flowing like water…then darkness.

A distant memory tugged, too deeply buried to surface. Every time she tried searching for her past, she met with a closed door. Who was she? Which side ruled her?

Fae or Draicon?

Draicon, no way in hell.

Sienna paid her bill, leaving a generous tip. As instructed, she took the elevator down, then lingered in the lobby for ten minutes, made certain no one was following her, then went upstairs.

The room had a connecting door. She opened it and entered a lavish suite.

The woman named Samantha was inside, sweeping the walls with a device that resembled the metal wand employed by airport security staff. She finished and turned with a cheerful grin. “Nothing. Clean. Not even a bedbug.”

Mischief danced in her brown eyes. “Need to check you, Miss McClare. A total pat-down. Don’t worry, I’m a professional when it comes to frisking women.”

She didn’t like the idea of this woman checking her over. It made her nervous. “Why the search? And the covert activity?”

“Can’t take any chances,” Samantha said.

“I can assure you, I’m not hiding anything.” Sienna clasped her hands, willed a smile. If this woman searched her, she’d get too nervous. Drop the glamour. The glamour fed her confidence, enabled her to look cool and professional.

Samantha gave her body an admiring glance. “Ah, not quite. There is definitely something about you.”

“Any excuse to flirt, huh, Shay?”

That deep, drawling voice, smooth as the burn of whiskey sliding down a parched throat. Sienna’s heart went still as Leather Jacket Draicon ambled with lethal grace through the connecting door, joined by the same dark-haired man who’d accompanied Samantha in the lobby bar.

The Draicon halted and stared. Ice glittered in his sharp blue gaze as he closed the door.

“You? Hell on wheels, this has to be a damn joke. Who are you?” he snapped.

The dark-haired man gestured to the Draicon. “Sienna McClare, meet Lieutenant Matthew Parker, U.S. Navy SEAL. Matt, Sienna’s Seelie Sidhe Fae from the Los Lobos colony.”

Lieutenant Parker looked stunned. “She’s a Draicon.”

“I’m not.”

“Prove it, sweetheart.” His voice was low and dangerous. “Because if you’re one, and not the Fae we’re expecting, you’re in a heap of trouble.”

All three looked at her. Sienna forced down her nervousness. She released the glamour to show her natural form. Pale, nearly translucent skin replaced the slightly darker tint. Her eyes became larger and more slanted. She pushed back her hair to display her pointed ears.

“There. Satisfied? I’m Fae, not a Draicon werewolf. Now, can I ask, what’s going on and who you are?”

The dark-haired man gave a slight smile. “Lieutenant Commander Dale Curtis, commanding officer of SEAL Team 21. Sorry for the precautions, Miss McClare. It’s necessary for security reasons. Lieutenant Parker will be partnering with you on this mission….”

“I’m sorry. I can’t work with this man.”

“Sit down, Miss McClare.”

The order was said in a soft tone, but steel threaded through the commander’s voice. Sienna sat, clenching her hands, refusing to look at the Draicon.

“Let’s get one thing straight before we start,” Lieutenant Commander Curtis said as he joined her. “This arrangement goes against my guts. I wanted my team alone on this. It’s too risky. The Fae are insular. Your aunt didn’t even want to meet. We had to work out details in a damn telephone conference. Unfortunately, she had a point. And a weapon I can’t do anything about. She can control the weather.”

Now a grim smile played on his mouth. “Unless I’d like a permanent hailstorm in Little Creek, we have to work together. You know the Orb, and your ability to glamour is powerful. I agreed to this, but no Fae is going to dictate the SEAL I chose. I don’t care if my house gets pelted by hail for the next thirty days. You’re with Matt. He’s a damned fine tracker. He could find an ice cube in a snowstorm.”

Sienna’s cheeks burned. She gestured to the blonde, who looked amused at the tension.

“I’d rather work with a woman,” she told him. “What about her? I don’t need a navy SEAL.”

Lieutenant Parker laughed. “Shay?”

Stunned, she watched Samantha’s body and face shimmer, and change shape. Full, lush lips became firm, the round cheekbones concave…

Replacing Samantha was a man dressed in black jeans and a cutoff black T-shirt. A shock of sandy-brown hair spilled down to his collar. Boyish mischief danced in his hazel eyes as he took a seat opposite her.

“Chief Petty Officer Sam Shaymore at your service, Miss McClare.”

Sienna gave him a warm smile. Finally, someone she could relate to. “You’re a Fae.”

Lieutenant Parker took a chair, swung it around and straddled it. “Shay’s a Phantom. A Mage who can shift into any kind of life-form.”

“Just one of my talents.” Shaymore opened a palm. A current of electricity sizzled there. He closed his fist, and the energy vanished.

Unease raced through her as she studied Shaymore, leaning back in his chair and folding his heavily muscled arms. Mage. They were much higher on the food chain than Seelie Sidhe. Some were endowed with powers that could cut a Fae in half before she could chant a spell.

She slid her chair out from the table and glanced at Lieutenant Commander Curtis. “Are all of you…paranorms?”

Curtis flicked a hand and she found herself sliding back toward the table, as if an invisible, courtly hand had pushed her chair in. “Primary Mage.”

Sweet mercy, a Draicon, and two Mages. Three powerful men who made her magick look puny and small. They studied her like an insect pinned on a board. Sienna resisted the urge to bolt. She lifted her chin and forced herself to calm.

“Primary Mages can do advanced telekinesis, throw energy bolts and shift into animal form. Just to let you know.” Contempt etched Lieutenant Parker’s face. “Or didn’t they teach you that in forest school?”

“Lieutenant Parker, are you going to have a problem working with Miss McClare?” Curtis’s tone was even, but held an edge of command.

“No, sir.”

Words seemed forced, his jaw taut. Chief Petty Officer Shaymore looked amused. “I can work with her. Be a real pleasure and I can be friendlier than old sour wolf here.”

“Screw you, Shay.”

“Up yours, Dakota.”

Parker gave a mocking grin. “Go grow a set. Steel ones.”

“Nothing wrong with mine. That’s what all the ladies say.”

They were a team, males who shut her out. Sienna gave them a cool look. “All the ladies?” she asked politely. “Or just the ones you disguise yourself as?”

The men turned and stared. A deep laugh rumbled from Lieutenant Parker’s throat.

The rich sound was as enticing as warm chocolate on a cold night. Sienna guarded herself against it. This man was a Draicon wolf.

Parker checked his laugh. “You mind changing back? Those ears are distracting, Mr. Spock.”

Sienna fought the urge to glamour into a poodle. What was his problem? She assumed her human form and pointedly ignored him.

“I don’t care what history you both share. Whatever it was, it ends now. I need both of you sharp, alert and working together as a team.” Curtis leaned forward. “This goes beyond any personal differences. Understood?”