Happy with the dilapidated building Wyatt had chosen for the meet, across from the place he’d gone after leaving the police station, Duron found a spot on the ground floor concealing them from prying eyes.
Beaumont kept quiet and watchful as they stood to the side of the dusty, old, broken windows that didn’t let out the scent of decaying garbage and human defecation. It wasn’t the worst he’d smelled, but it tickled his nose, annoying some of his animals.
Behave, we’re gonna be here for some time.
Wyatt had messaged to say he was running a little behind, and just to hang tight, so Duron slowed down his breathing. His mate kept still, nothing moving. A skill Duron could admire. Beaumont’s alligator was badass.
What was strange was having someone so close to him, as in pressed against his side like a second limb. Usually Duron worked alone; it was how the council wanted it. Yes, he’d worked and helped his assassin friends over the years, covered their backs when they got a gut instinct something was off, but the council never knew and none of them ever touched him.
One look out the side of his eye and he recalled Beaumont’s “mated” moments in the shower. The strength of the disconcerted feelings brought him sweaty from his morning training session to seek Beaumont out.
One look at his mate’s soap, slicked skin and warm smile and Duron had asked the hard question. Needing to know Beaumont hadn’t gotten a little more than he’d bargained for. It became imperative for him to hear that his mate didn’t regret their mating. Although he didn’t have the full picture of what was on Beaumont’s mind about his family, he got that the other man loved them. Yet, there did not appear to be any regret about being mated to him, which settled his animals and him.
Duron, to show he cared, shared his food, something else his friends would find shocking. After living without for so long, sharing anything wasn’t natural to him or the others he had lived with. What was more shocking? Maybe that or his mating to the council lead.
That took a little bit of digesting while Duron had gone to lift weights and clear his mind of the lust that seemed to cloud his thoughts all the damned time since he’d gotten off the plane. He was in unknown territory and Duron had learned the hard way, not knowing where he was at any given time would create problems. Beaumont had proven he wasn’t just a suit who sat behind a desk. The night before had revealed his man was more than capable of handling himself…
Stop that.
There was a light tap on his arm and his lips twitched, even though Duron’s gaze never moved from where he was watching.
What?He couldn’t pull off innocent, it wasn’t him, but Duron worked to keep his amusement to himself as a wave of lust came from Beaumont. It was heady to feel the need, and also damned distracting, despite liking the playful side of Beaumont. Which could be fun, especially whenhe could manhandle him and get him to make the oddest of noises.
They were not odd,came the disgruntled reply to his projected thought.
If you say so.
Movement from inside the building opposite brought Duron’s humor to an end. His eagle surfaced and looked for the heat signatures behind the darkened glass covering the windows of what appeared to be a shop based on the amount of foot traffic, only no one came out carrying anything obvious. Drugs were Duron’s first thought. That made the occupants dangerous because men and women high on drugs believed they were invincible.
Counting five men, and taking stock of sizes and height, Duron tapped five times on Beaumont’s arm, forgetting himself for a moment. He continued to do short and longer tapes to describe height and size.
When Beaumont stared at the hand on his arm, a furrow appearing between his brows, he realized what he was doing.Shit, sorry, I should just have told you.
No, no, it’s fine. I got you can see five of them inside. The other taps after, what were they for?
Beaumont didn’t sound pissed, just intrigued.
To indicate size and height.
You’ll need to teach me those. That could come in real handy.
Okay.Duron beamed at his mate before returning his attention to the opposite building as a car pulled up and three men emerged. The large SUV was expensive, as were the linen suits the men were wearing in the muggy heat. The way they held themselves was threatening, and the bulge at the backs of their fitted jackets pointed to them being armed. Power rolled off them as their eyes scanned the street.
Duron held perfectly still when one man’s gaze lingered on the building they were in. When the guy looked away Duron lifted his nose, inhaling through the broken window. His cat scented the air, sifting through the smells.
Shifters. Though I’m not getting what they are. They smell a little like you.His bear grumbled and shoved the cat aside to get a look. His animals occasionally fought. His bear being the dominant usually won, but not without it first causing Duron a headache of epic proportions.
He rubbed at his temples and threatened,behave, or I won’t let you out for snuggles later with our mate.
His bear receded, but not before he growled loudly at the others to make a point.
Are you okay?
Duron noted he was still rubbing his temples.My animal spirits can be hard to manage when they get pushy with each other.
It wasn’t sympathy coming from Beaumont, more interest and concern for him.How many are there?
Duron didn’t have time to answer, as there was a low whistle, coming from behind them. If it wasn’t for the unconscious man Wyatt was dragging, Duron wouldn’t have heard his friend.
