Whirling around, Zane stared at him, trying to process what Steel had implied.Fuck me! That would explain why there isn’t a trace of them anywhere. But wait… “If that’s true, where are the bodies? What about their relatives? And who did the killing? Josiah? I can’t picture him getting his hands dirty.”
“Neither can I,” Steel said. “But itwouldexplain why you can’t find a trace of them.”
“Yeah, but dumping fifty bodies? Someone must’ve seen something,” Zane mused.
“Maybe, but I wouldn’t bet on it. Josiah doesn’t like loose ends.”
“Holy shit balls! Mom’s a loose end!” Zane exclaimed, his fear rising again. “Ihaveto find something that can be used against Josiah!”
“Let’s go see Jackson. He has some new information that requires your help.”
Zane nodded, falling in beside Steel, his mind sifting through ideas, trying to pick one that would give his brother exactly what was needed to lock up Josiah.
“One other thing,” Steel said, “the last thing Jackson needs right now is something happening to your mat…who must come first in your life. Making sure he’s getting plenty of sleep is part of what you should be doing. And spending downtime with David is just as important, so he feels free to express his opinions and concerns to you. You know what your mate has been through, so it’s ingrained in him not to make waves, but just go along with what you want. This last week, while you were spending hours on your computer, David was worrying about you and you ignored his feelings. That’s not fair to him.”
Zane’s face turned red with embarrassment. Looking back, he knew his reasons for ignoring his mate’s worries, which had grown stronger each night, were selfish; using his mother as an excuse for neglecting his mate’s needs, made him feel small. The Fates entrusted him to protect David, not take advantage of his gentle personality. Mentally kicking himself, Zane knew he owed his mate an apology but more than that, Zane needed to make sure he never acted that way again. “You’re right,” Zane said softly. “I’ll apologize to David.”
“That’s a good start,” Steel agreed. “But promising not to marginalize him again in your relationship will also mean a lot to him.”
“I intend to do that, too.”
“Good,” Steel replied, opening the door to Jackson’s study.
~/~/~/~/~
His handler, the Hare, sidled up to the bar, ignoring him, ordering a whiskey and soda before turning his head to speak to the man next to him. Glenn turned his back tothe bar, leaning against it while surveying the motley group sitting at the scarred, wooden tables, huddling close, their voices low, trying to conceal what they were saying. Though his acute animal hearing allowed him to listen to every conversation—even those in the far corners of the room—none of that interested him right now.
Shifting slightly to the right, he kept the Hare within his sight, tuning into his conversation with the dude sitting next to him.Something is up or the Hare wouldn’t be here. Glenn’s last mission had been completed, reports submitted, and he was officially on his month-long vacation—a demand he’d made two jobs ago. Now, the sudden appearance of his handler signaled his very-much-needed time off was probably going to be scrubbed. He already knew what the Hare would say—life and death, the only agent he could count on who had the skills the mission called for and all the other B.S. he’d heard so many times before. And if none of that worked, out would come the Hare’s pièce de résistance—that Glenn was the only agent he could trust to save someone—guaranteed to work since it appealed to his soft spot. He quietly snorted before taking a sip of his Coors.Yeah, I’m a sucker for someone in danger.
Listening to their banal chatter, Glenn frowned slightly. Nothing he heard gave a hint as to why his handler was standing at the bar in bumfuckistan, freezing his ass off while discussing the latest World Cup odds. But therewasa problem—all his senses told him so. Deciding he had enough of this shit, Glenn turned back to the bar, making sure his body pushed the Hare into the man next to him.
“Hey, fucker, watch what you’re doing!”
Glenn looked over at the man who was giving him a dirty look while using a stack of bar napkins to wipe up the drink the Hare had ‘accidentally’ spilled on him. “Sorry,” he growled. Seizing the opportunity, Glenn moved, putting himself between the man and the Hare. “Here, let me help you.” Grabbing a bar towel from behind the counter, Glenn began to mop up the rest of the drink. As he was busying himself with that, he felt a hand slide into his jacket pocket and heard a rustle of paper as it was withdrawn.
Now in a hurry to leave so he could find out what it was all about, Glenn threw some money down on the bar in front of the man. “Buy yourself a couple of drinks, on me.” Then he turned to speak to his handler, but the Hare was gone. “Sonofabitch,” Glenn cursed, under his breath, before striding out the door and heading for his hotel. Staying in the shadows, he shoved his cold hands into his pants pockets, eager to shift and let his fur warm him but, obviously, that was not an option in town.
Walking down the dimly lit hallway to his room, Glenn let his senses flow around him, keeping alert for anyone who might be hunting him. Relieved when he detected nothing out of the ordinary, he stopped in front of his door, slipping his hand into his pocket, withdrawing the key to his room. Pausing, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was around, before inserting it into the lock. After turning the key slowly and hearing the deadbolt retract, he opened the door very quietly. Stepping inside and quickly closing the door behind him, he first checked to make sure no one had been in his room, before sitting down at the desk and switching on the lamp. Pulling the paper out of his jacket pocket, Glenn read it once. Then twice. His face filled with fury. “No fucking way!”
Chapter 7
LeavingAmerican in Parisafter their delicious meal Carson’s eyes searched for Henri. Not seeing him, he headed over to a side street, finally spotting the SUV with Henri nonchalantly leaning against the driver’s door, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Relieved that their ride was close by, Carson looked over his shoulder, catching Hunter’s eye, while pointing in the direction of the car. Receiving a nod in acknowledgement, he hurried along the narrow sidewalk, eager to resume their journey to Chateau des Flammes.
For the first time, since the massacre, Carson felt like the heavy weight of losing his parents and younger siblings had finally been lifted from his shoulders, making his world brighter and filling him with hope for the future. Unable to put his finger on exactly why he felt that way, he somehow knew it had to do with being in France. Smiling to himself as he approached Henri, Carson was now eagerly looking forward to meeting Remy and finishing his due diligence for Dire Enterprises.
Once that was over and the sale completed, Carson intended to ask Maximus to consider him for the job of Managing Director of Dire Enterprises’ French Operations. After all, he reasoned, there wasn’t anyone else who’d know more about the companies than he. The only downside was how far away his mother and brothers would be, but he knew there were plenty of ways to stay in touch.
Eyeing the old buildings on either side of the street, Carson wondered what it would be like to live in one of them and be surrounded by the ambiance of the City of Lights. It was a seed that was beginning to germinate in his soul. Putting aside his thoughts, his mind shifted tohis upcoming job assignment. He noticed Henri walking to the front of the car and then turning toward the street. Losing sight of him for a moment, Carson wondered what he was up to. His cousin and Fionn caught up to him just as Henri disappeared.
“What’s he doing?” Hunter asked.
“I have no idea,” Carson said, walking faster. “I hope he isn’t going to leave us…” The roar of a car passed them, going way too fast for the narrow street. “Whoa…” he said, reflexively jumping away from the curb and bumping into his cousin. Then Carson heard the driver slam on the brakes and saw the rear end of the car fishtailing, skidding toward the front end of the SUV where he’d last seen Henri. Carson’s warning shout was lost in the sickening sounds of metal scraping metal, the thump of a body hitting something, the cry of a child and a car speeding away.
Shock stilled Carson for a moment as his mind registered what he heard. Then, his adrenalin kicking in, he ran to the scene of the accident, stopping short when he saw Henri lying on the street, blood pooling under his head. Quickly assessing the situation, he turned to his traveling companions who’d joined him. Pointing to a crying child sitting in front of the SUV, he shouted, “Hunter, make sure he’s all right and see if you can find his parents. Fionn, you help me.”
Removing his jacket, Carson knelt down next to Henri, covering him with it. Quickly reviewing in his mind everything Colton taught him about first aid, he carefully checked for a pulse, relieved to find a weak one, then ran his hands over Henri’s limbs, looking for broken bones, finding none.
“He’s not waking up,” Fionn murmured.
