Exactly what I was looking for.
I grab the pants and search the pockets. Thankfully, Smith’s card is still there. The card stock is dirty and a little crumpled, but still plenty readable. Next, I take hold of my backpack, pulling it toward me.
My cell phone—another thing I thought I’d never see again—is in the front pocket exactly where I put it what feels like a million years ago but was really less than a week ago. An even more unexpected sight is the stack of money from H&H tucked in next to my phone.
Looks like I can bring some benefit to the pack after all.I chuckle and make a note to myself to give the cash to Julien.
My cell is unsurprisingly dead, so I tuck it back inside the front pocket next to the money, swing the backpack over my shoulder and head back into the house. Julien leads me into the office and hands me his phone. I quickly dial the number on the card.
After the first ring, a gruff voice answers. “This is Smith.”
“Hi,” I say. “This is Keir Anderson. I need—”
“What the hell, kid?” he exclaims. “I’ve been trying to reach you for hours. I was just about to try getting in contact with Matisse.”
“My phone is dead….” I say slowly, unnerved by the frantic tone of his voice.
“Well, I’m glad I’ve got you now because there’s something you need to know,” says Smith.
I don’t even want to ask… but I do anyway. “What?”
“Your uncle’s body turned up this afternoon.”
“Hisbody?”
“Yeah,” says Smith. “We were getting ready to wrap up our report and head out when we got the call about a shifter murder. From the looks of it, Randall was tortured before he died. Any ideas who might have had it out for him and what they could have wanted from him?”
Thirty-Seven
Keir
Randallisdead?
I’ve had about all the shocks and surprises I can take tonight. I’m not even sure how to begin processing this additional piece of information right now. My complete mental overload must be bad enough to show on my face, because Julien gently takes the phone from my hand, then puts his arm around my shoulders. He speaks quietly to Smith as he leads me upstairs to our bedroom.
At some point later, Julien is no longer on the phone and he’s stripped everything off me but boxers and an over-sized t-shirt and tucked me into bed. He joins me, crawling in from the other side, then tugs me closer, curling his body around mine and burying his nose in my hair.
My libido perks up, but my utter exhaustion, both mental and physical, smashes it back down. There will be no fun times tonight.
I hope Julien doesn’t mind…
The next thing I know, it’s morning and I’m waking up cocooned in a comfortable warmth. Julien’s larger form is wrapped around me, his morning wood making its interest known by poking me in the back. I wiggle back against him and Julien makes a pleased noise before running his hand down my side and grasping my hip to hold me still.
“There are at least two other people in this house right now,” he says, his voice raspy. “My mom is more than likely already in the kitchen making breakfast and Ben is in one of the guest rooms.”
I turn around to face him, nuzzling my nose against his neck and inhaling his sleep-warmed scent. “I can be quiet.”
Julien chuckles. “Not quiet enough for shifter hearing.”
“That’s… probably true.” I say reluctantly.
The corners of his mouth curve upward. “Plus, as tempting as you are, the praetorians will be here soon.”
“What do you mean? Smith and Yang are coming here? Why?”
“You don’t remember me telling you about their visit last night?” Julien leans back, then reaches up to stroke my cheek with his thumb. “I didn’t realize you were quite that out of it.”
I huff out a low laugh. “Yeah, my brain shut down somewhere between the revelation you might be able to put a bun in my oven and Smith telling me about Randall.”
