We move fast through the silent hallway. Laura is visiblytense on the short elevator ride and cautious during the shorter walk to my car in the eerie parking lot.
I let her do her thing and book it out of there as soon as I’m in my car.
I text Oliver once I’m back home, and only go to sleep when I receive his overly apologetic ‘alright’ text back. The text is pure Ollie. No one could sound that genuinely sorry for being the one possibly dodging a serious danger.
Good to know Nicholas and team got to play hero and save the day today.
ChapterOne
Mocha, Murder, and the Most Unlikely Hitman
Elliot
“Leaving without saying goodbye?”
My feet freeze. I look at the door longingly. So close to making it out without being spotted. I thought the loud noises and laughter of Oliver's friends, or rather friends' in-law, were a good cover.
I turn to look at the brother-in-law Oliver will soon inherit, Nicholas Harper, the last guy I was hoping to run into right now. His sharp eyes focus on me, like he’s trying to dissect me into small, easy particles to study under a microscope.
I feel a weird sense of déjà vu wash over me from the Christmas party in the apartment across the hall six months ago. Matt and Oliver’s first joint venture at the whole playing the hosts thing. Now they're engaged. And Nicholas is still the biggest obstacle between me and the door.
With his five o’clock shadow, he looks like a mix between an Abercrombie model and a small-town cop, where the worst crime is missing candy at the fall festival.
There’s really no other reason for him to be smiling that much all the time. He’s a detective at LAPD, for fuck’s sake. A pretty good one from my research. As to why I wasresearching him, well, you can never be too aware of your surroundings in my line of work.
“Nicholas,” I nod.
“Elliot,” he nods back mockingly, a big smile on his face. “How very formal of you,” he adds, because he wouldn't be Nicholas Harper if he didn’t say whatever comes to his head.
I tamp down the urge to roll my eyes.
“Isn’t it rude to do the whole Irish goodbye thing when the party is this small?” he asks, his tone teasing. The smile is still on with full force. I would have doubted the genuineness of that smile, but no, it’s real. Nicholas doles them out generously. He’s nice and sweet and reliable and oh… a werewolf capable of killing anyone in point five seconds.
I look at Oliver on the couch with his new fiancé and the other werewolves. They’re all laughing. I still want to drag him away. But I begrudgingly admit he looks happy and safe. “Looks like the hosts will live,” I say.
Nicholas laughs. “Some urgent business to get to?” he tilts his head.
“Yup, have a standing appointment with my bed.”
“Oh, you don’t want to miss those,” he nods. “Always nice catching up, dude,” he salutes with the drink in his hand, walking backwards.
I rush out of there, hurry down the elevator, power-walk to my car, and enter the coordinates for my destination, which unfortunately is not my bed.
***
I love walking through empty streets at night. Streetlights stretching long shadows across empty sidewalks. My footsteps echo louder than they should, broken only by a trash can lid clattering somewhere behind me. A sharp breeze slips under my jacket, cool against my neck, raising a line of goosebumps.
Today, I don’t take the time to savor it all. No, I walk straight to the biggest house in the corner with intention. The neighbors must be asleep, occasional porch lights the only sign of life, other than a cat peeking out from behind thetrashcan cover. I ignore the tiny, gleaming eyes and turn towards the house.
It’s on, I text Sam, my sidekick, or the main kick in the operation, depending on who you ask.
I unlatch the main gate without any problem and knock on the door. I don’t have to wait long. It opens instantly, revealing a tall, muscular man who completely blocks the view inside. Then again, it’s not difficult to be taller than me since I’m nothing to write home about in the height department.
But this one isn’t just strong and big. He’s dangerous. When Harold looks at me, his face frowns for a second before it breaks into a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks again for coming all the way here.”
“I told you it’s no problem at all,” I give him with a smile of my own. “I brought coffee. Venti Iced White Mocha with almond milk, just how you like.” I hand him one of the cups and wink.
He takes it, smiling. “Good man,” he says.
