I spun about, my claws emerging, about to demand I be allowed to go comfort, kiss,lovemy Mate, when one of the elderly hosts waved his cigar again, the gesture more speculative and less dismissive this time.
“Yeah, yeah, you can go get pussy later, if that’s more important than poker to you. In the meantime…”
Both he and his brother sat forward, forearms on the table in surprisingly synchronized movements. The pair of them said, at the same time, as if they shared one voice…
“Now what’s this aboutcheating?”
No! I wanted to shout it, to demand I be allowed to comfort my Mate. I was so fucking proud of her, but she didn’t know it. She was strong and brave, and she didn’tneedmy comfort, but I needed to give it to her.
But there was something shedidneed.
She needed to know she was safe from her father, and I could do that.
Here and now.
So I forced my breathing to slow, and I straightened, rolling my shoulders and working my neck side to side to release the tension I held. Not the anger though; no, I clutched my anger in my chest, myKteergrowling, and I didn’t bother retracting my claws.
The LeClair brothers were demanding answers from Hendricks, who had backed up when I released him, and now was being held by two goons. He babbled, clearly trying to explain his way out of his, but I had only one goal: to ensure my Mate’s safety.
So I interrupted him.
“I will explain.” At my formal words, everyone in the room turned to me, and I nodded curtly to the two older men. “My Mate understands humans”—and me—”well enough to read your responses. Her father forced her to study your tells and habits until she was reasonably certain she could predict your hands and reactions. Then she would communicate to Hendricks how he should bet, considering your hand.”
One of the brothers was chewing on his cigar and glowering, while the other hummed thoughtfully. “So you’re saying she—what? Was basically running the whole game inside her head?”
I hadn’t thought of it like that, but it made sense. I nodded once, then flicked a dismissive look toward Hendricks. “I will reiterate that none of this was her choice or decision. She does not willingly use her talents to harm others.”
The first LeClair brother made a skeptical noise around his cigar, and I turned a dark glare his way. I must havelooked strange, in my suit with my claws out, but I allowed some of my rage to be seen.
“When she arrived at my door, my Mate bore the bruises from this male.” I pointed one long claw at Trevor Hendricks, who shrank back. “Less than an hour ago, I found him hurting her again—in your home,” I growled, letting them see how little I thought of their hospitality. “He deserves death for what he has done to her. But I suspect you will believe he deserves it more for what he has done toyou.”
Both LeClair brothers nodded impassively, and Hendricks began to blubber, his excuses and apologies and pleading running together.
I allowed my claws to retract. “Then I don’t have to be the one to bloody my claws on him. My Mate is innocent of his plans, and shewill notbe punished for his wrongdoing.” I pierced the older males with a glare. “Am I understood?”
One of them actually grinned, while the other gestured to his two henchmen holding Hendricks. “It’s one thing to slap around a woman if she gives you lip, but hurting your own daughter? That’s a new level of slimy.”
My skin crawled. I wanted to be away from these males, even if they were doing me a favor right now. I nodded curtly and turned for the door.
The goon with the gun stepped aside, and behind me I heard one of the LeClair brothers announce, “We’re taking a hiatus to deal with this shit. Somebody call the butler What’s-his-face. Bring in the brandy, y’all make yourself comfortable. We’ll be awhile.”
The door closed on Hendricks’ snarl of defiance.
And I was satisfied to close that door, because as much as I wanted him to pay for what he’d done to Stevie, I wouldn’t have to be the one to charge him. His own misdeeds would dictate his punishment.
Because I hadfarmore important things to do.
I knew Stevie hadn’t gone far; there’d been a moment, when I’d seen her expression, that I worried she’d disappear on me again. But I could feel her, her agitation, her fear, her sorrow. She wasn’t far, and it was up to me to find her.
Our bond led me right to the room where I’d found her originally. She’d removed her heels and was staring morosely out one of the large windows, her arms around her stomach and her shoes dangling from two fingers.
I stopped to admire her for just a moment, even though everything in me urged comfort. But she was my Mate; she could feel me the same way I could feel her, and before I could do more than inhale, Stevie was turning.
The fresh tear tracks on her face nearly broke me.
“I’m sorry,” she half-whispered, half-sobbed, shrinking in on herself. “I’m sorry.”
I was moving before I even realized it. “I’m the one who’s sorry, sweetheart.”
