But…fuck…fuck…FUCK!
I want to scream now that it’s all been ripped away. Just like the night I was attacked, some assholes have found a blind spot and are exploiting it. How the hell am I going to protect myself if I never see them coming?
I stare up at Ellery, willing him to take back his words and make this all go away.
He doesn’t. His expression grows pained, as if he can feel the cold, haunted turn my emotions have taken. He tries to bolster me with a soft smile.
“I think it would be good to have a woman with you. A witch with a different set of skills and magic who might be able to help us see what we’re missing.”
“Okay,” I say, the word hollow because nothing’s okay right now.
“She’s here, ready to meet you. If you’re up for it.”
I nod, not looking at him, not looking at anything.
He lets go of one of my hands to reach up and press a button on the walkie-talkie attached to his shirt. “Karen, can you come up here, please?”
Less than two minutes later, the elevator dings and a woman with an inverted black bob striped with chunks of lavender steps out. Her green lipstick would be startling, but it goes well with her heavily lined eyes. There’s a black stripe down the center of her throat, but I can’t tell if it’s a tattoo or makeup. Her gray uniform has been modified to be skintight, and she’s covered it with a leather vest stitched with strange symbols.
When she sees me, she stops short. “Ellery Arcan, what the hell are you doing to this girl?” Her eyes roam over me and take in my appearance. She clucks her tongue and says, “Noah, nice to meet you. But why in the name of the moon goddess are you letting him dress you like that?”
I glance down at the oversized green shirt and leopard print yoga pants I put on after my shower. They’re not exactly cute, or matching, but they were in that bag the guys gave me, and it’s not like I was planning on leaving my room…maybe ever, after today’s disaster run.
It was supposed to help me burn off my restless energy, but now I feel more on edge and agitated than I did before.
“Hand over your black card. Now.” Karen sticks her hand out expectantly toward the sheriff, completely straight-faced.
I’m slightly amused when Ellery looks bashful and tries to counter her. “We’re happy to get Noah anything—”
She gestures to me. “If this is what you’re getting her, then no. Nope. No excuses.” She snaps her fingers. “Give it here.” Then she turns to me. “You can’t be shy, Poodle.” She jabs a thumb in Ellery’s direction. “This one’s bank account has more digits than a phone number. Don’t be letting him off easy. Shit, if his den had bitten me, I’d have bought myself a nice little helicopter for my Hunt present.”
“Why a helicopter when you can just ride a broom?” Ellery quips.
She plucks his credit card right out of his hand. “Because I don’t support stereotypes, thank you very much.”
Ellery’s voice sounds in my head. “Think I should tell her that she fits the Karen stereotype all the way down to her haircut?”
“None of that in-your-head talking, sir,” Karen says as she strides over to my door, pushing it open. “Yes, I can tell when you’re doing it. Makes you look constipated. Now, shall we?”
My laugh surprises me, but once it starts it doesn’t stop. Karen and her madness are the perfect counter to all the horrific, scary shit going down in my life. I giggle and chuckle until tears are streaming down my cheeks, until both Ellery and Karen are staring at me in concern.
When I can finally catch my breath, I swipe away my tears and stare right at the witch. “Karen, will you marry me?”
Ellery’s eyes narrow but Karen just gives me a grin and a wink. “Not in those rags, sweetheart. Sorry, but a girl’s got to have standards. Let’s go inside and I’ll book you an appointment so we can Cinderella the shit out of you.”
My stomach tightens a tiny bit as we step into the space that’s become mine over the past few days. I haven’t shared it with anyone yet. It’s been my cocoon as I come to terms with the fact that human was the old me and shifter is the new one.
Karen’s quick eyes glance around the queen-sized bed with its ornate carved wooden frame.
She takes in the red couch that I dusted all the crumbs out of this morning in my frenzied need to do something.
“So, you’re one of those neat freaks, huh? Remind me never to invite you over,” she states, plopping down onto the loveseat and pulling out her phone. “I’m going to take care of this fashion emergency before it becomes a fashion fatality.” She dials and puts the phone to her ear.
I turn to Ellery and give an awkward shrug, unsure what to say.
“She’ll keep you on your toes. But she’ll take good care of you,” he murmurs. “There’s one other thing I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts.
Nervous jitters barge into my stomach because the look he gives me is hesitant. Is he going to ask me about this mate claim thing? Fuck. I’m not ready to deal—
“I’ve got some of the shifters who ran in the Hunt coming in tomorrow to answer some questions. I wanted to see if you’d be okay observing while I speak to them. See if you pick up on anything.”
Relief takes off inside of me like a herd of gazelle, leaping and bounding around, until I’m nodding a few too many times at Ellery. “Yeah. Sure,” I answer, trying to sound relaxed and nonchalant.
Finally, someone’s asking me for something reasonable. Something small. Something I can do.
16
NOAH
Antagonism smells as awful as wolverine musk. It’s got a dark scent that churns my stomach and fills the air around us in the station meeting room. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead and make everyone in the room washed out and just a shade less attractive.
I’m standing in the back of the room next to Karen, Fife, and a deputy named Bucky, while Ellery sits at the table and questions the Bianchi den. They’re apparently the group of shifters who nearly bit me during the Hunt.
To say I’m relieved they didn’t is an understatement.
The alpha of their den is a rough-looking late thirties who appears closer to fifty and, while age gap romances are fun to read about…he’s not main character material. He’s got a wide face, a pug nose, and what appears to be an anger issue.
The rest of his den doesn’t appear to be much better. One guy has a net of unruly black curls that could be cute if he knew what curl cream was. As it is, I’m not sure the guy has ever touched a comb. Another one of them looks as though he’s fighting a losing battle with allergies. His golden-brown eyes are watery, his nose is red, and he keeps wiping it on the sleeve of his shirt. The final member looks like the type who lives in his mother’s basement. He just seems…soft and has trouble making eye contact with anyone. It’s hard for me to reconcile the fact that he’s a wolf shifter, because the ones I’ve met so far have been big and strong.
If the Arcan Pack were a body, this den would be the armpit.
“We shouldn’t even be here. If you weren’t the alpha’s son, you’d be the one getting called to the carpet. She should be wearing our bite.” Joe Bianchi speaks for his den as he glares at Ellery.