Mrs. Odette Kramer
I sat up straight in extreme interest. My luck was changing for the better. Finn Baker of Baker Corporation was a shifter, along with all his buddies. If anyone knew more dirty details about the other species, it would be the mother of a mate, a mother who had been seen in pictures scowling at Finn Baker.
I quickly replied to her message, hoping she would see it soon, having just messaged me herself. I wanted to get another article out tonight if I could, though it was getting late in the evening.
My heart skipped a beat as my silver bracelet buzzed once more. A grin grew on my face, the message very motivating. She would be out of town for two weeks starting tomorrow. Mrs. Kramer could only meet tonight—in a half hour.
I swiftly responded, agreeing to her terms.
The Kramer house. Lots of new details.
I paid my small bill and ran to the nearest public transport, carting my luggage behind me and bouncing on the balls of my feet. I knew there had to be something to perk me up after this damn day. I’d finally caught a break.
* * *
I knocked on the door of Mrs. Kramer’s house, an honest, happy smile on my face when she answered. I held out my right hand, hoping I appeared halfway presentable. “Hi, Mrs. Kramer! I’m Noelle Harvey. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Mrs. Kramer shook my hand gently. “It’s lovely to meet you, as well. Won’t you come in?”
I stepped inside her foyer and gently placed my luggage by her front door. “Is Mr. Kramer home too? Will he want to speak with me?”
“My husband is out on business right now. I’m more than capable of answering any questions you may have about shifters.” She stared down her nose at me, gauging the excited grin gripping my face that the term ‘shifters’ triggered. Mrs. Kramer nodded once in satisfaction. “Good, I see you know exactly what I’m speaking about. I was afraid I’d spend most of my time explaining their rules to you.”
“Oh no, I’ve been given the lecture.” I chuckled softly.
“Let’s go in the living room then. We’ll be much more comfortable there.” The prestigious woman swayed her hips as she walked, leading our way, a walk she had perfected over many years being in the upper echelon. She took a seat on the loveseat while I sat in the center of her couch. Mrs. Kramer touched the tips of her fingers to her mouth and gently shook her head, a humored laugh slipping past her lips, her gaze directly upon mine. “You know, I hadn’t thought it would be this simple finding you. You are quite notorious. I must say, Noelle, I’m rather disappointed. Your reputation doesnotprecede you.”
My smile slid from my face and shattered on the floor, dread beginning to itch up my throat. “Excuse me?”
Her lips twitched, an attempt to contain her mirth. “Did you really think I would allow you to harm my daughter? Because that’s exactly what would happen if your articles continued in the vein they were headed.” Both of her eyebrows rose, a pointed look of a mother protecting her young. “No one will ever harm my child.”
I really shouldn’t have eaten that food.
It churned in my stomach in the most nauseating way.
Mrs. Kramer called, “Mr. Cooper! I’ve said my piece. You may come in now.” She sniffed and then turned her attention to the doorway of the living room. “And you were right. Sometimes simple cheese is the best way to catch a greedy rat.”
“Exactly,” a deep voice responded from the foyer.
Wolfe Cooper stalked into the living room, his head lowered and his golden eyes glinting out between his shoulder length gray hair that fell around his shoulders and over part of his forehead. A growl, entirelywolf, rumbled through the air, targeted straight at me. His black designer suit didn’t hide the muscles straining underneath the material, and his lips peeled back from his teeth in a menacing snarl. And all those magnificent features that graced his face were pulled tight in silent wrath.
This was the furthest he could have looked from the technology genius the pictures always showed. The man before me was ready to tear me apart, or maybe chew me apart. I don’t think he would mind either way he did it, just as long ashegot to do it.
I might as well have been a frightened rabbit. My heart thumped against my ribs so furiously it physically hurt, and my eyes were so wide they started to water. I shoved up from the couch and lifted my hands in front of me, whispering in a shaky voice, “I didn’t kill your friend! I swear. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t Theron’s fault, either! It was Joshua Striker’s!”
His profoundly pissed off voice scratched across my sanity. “Cassander would still be alive if you hadn’t published that first article. You set his death into motion, all because you think you know better than all others. What is right, what is wrong. You thought you knew. You didn’t. And you still don’t since you showed up here.
“Shifters could have revealed themselves when the humans had all but killed themselves off. But we knew more warfare would surely end all of you.” Wolfe took two long strides toward me, closing the space slowly, a wolf hunting his prey, playing with his prey. “So we kept our mouths shut. Like you should have.”
I backed up until my ass hit the wall and kept my hands up in defense. Not that it would help. What I really needed was my gun, but that was back in my luggage by the front door.
I countered gently, “I’m terribly sorry for your loss. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Wolfe snorted. “That, as you said, was one of my best friends dying. Two hundred years of standing by someone’s side. Emotions your young brain can’t even fathom. And you took away the future we could have had together.” He shook his head of gray hair, the wisps flying, with one catching on the top of his straight nose. Wolfe didn’t even notice. “If Cass were just my friend, Mrs. Kramer’s lovely carpet would be drowning in your blood by now. But Cass was loved by many, and, truly, his father should get to choose your ultimate fate.”
Mrs. Kramer cleared her throat. “Thank you so much, Mr. Cooper, for restraining yourself.” A pregnant pause. “My carpet thanks you, too.”
The older woman had a dry sense of humor.
