Chapter 7
Kasen
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Malcolm places a handat the small of Scarlett’s back, guiding her through the door into one of those bougie places that sells overpriced pillows and shit. It’s pretty much abandoned since we got here right as it opened, but they still have to walk past a few people on the sidewalk. The only glances they receive are appreciative, the two of them a picture perfect couple.
I’ve seen vamps before, and I can’t wrap my head around this woman being one of them. The memories are always shrouded in a horrifying mess of carnage and death; so much death. Yet here’s this gorgeous, timid woman, the only things convincing me she isn’t human being her red-rimmed, golden eyes and the small peek of elongated canines I glimpsed before she hastily retracted them, trying to cover the slip before I noticed.
Like I could notice anything else in the room when she’s in it.
“Fuck, I’m going to get fired,” I grumble, fishing my phone out of my pocket.
I’m going to drive myself mad being forced to stay in the car when all of my instincts are demanding that I follow them in there to make sure no one attacks the woman that radiates defenseless energy, unintentionally calling to any shifter in the vicinity. It’s coded into our genetics to protect as much as hunt, and it’s only the knowledge that Mr. Drake would fire me before I could blink for disobeying the order to keep the car running in case we need to get the hell out of dodge if things go sideways, that keeps my ass put.
He’d never allow me to escort them again if I fuck this up. There was no missing his reluctance to the idea, already pissed off that I was rubbing myself all over Scarlett. If I push too far right out of the gate, he has the power to not just ruin my life, but completely obliterate it. He’s benevolent, and a decent guy based on our interactions over the years, but nobody in their right mind pisses off one of the richest bastards in the country. And eye fucking Scarlett? Even a saint won’t hesitate to go for the throat to protect his mate.
Beckett answers on the fourth ring, out of breath. “What’s up, man?”
“I need you to blow off work.”
“What’s going on? You alright?”
Releasing a heavy breath, I admit, “I... I don’t know what to do. Kind of freaking out here and trying not to spiral, but I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, Becks.”
There’s a garbled sound as he covers the phone, moving out of hearing range, the faint sounds of construction keeping me company until he’s back on the line. “Where’re you at?”
My gaze flicks back to the doors, boring holes in them while I wait for the screaming to start, a gunshot or a snarl, someone realizing she’s a vampire and not giving it a second thought, trying to put her down before there’s a massacre. Swallowing, my voice is a rough croak. “I’ve got to finish up this job, then I’ll meet you at home in about an hour?”
“Are. You. Hurt?” He enunciates each word, and I feel like shit, knowing I’m making him panic without explaining anything, that I should have waited to call until I dropped Scarlett and Malcolm back at the building.
“No, I’m not hurt. I know it’s a dick move not explaining over the phone, but I wanted to give you some time to wrap up what you were working on so we didn’t both wind up fired this week. I just-” I rake a hand through my hair with a growl of frustration. “Being on the phone is helping keep my ass in the car so I don’t do something really fucking stupid.”
Beckett’s usually easygoing tone is completely gone in the face of his confusion and worry. “Can you at least give me an idea what it’s about so I’m not freaking out while waiting for you to start making some damn sense?”
Staring at the door, I will it to open, for someone to come out of the store so I can catch at least a glimpse inside. But it remains closed, keeping my anxiety running on overdrive, and my skin feeling too tight as the urge to shift rides me hard.
“I found my mate.”
***
Gripping the sidesof my head, I glare down at the floor of our apartment. A broken spring in the couch digs into my thigh as I reach without lifting my head, taking the beer that Beck offers me before flopping down to sit next to me.
“Okay, let me get this straight,” he says, propping his feet up on the coffee table, permanently scuffed from his boots. “You met your fated and you didn’t say shit?”
Growling, I sit up, popping the top off of my bottle. “What the hell was I supposed to say? She’s my boss’ mate.”
“So you get to sleep your way to the top of the corporate ladder,” he retorts easily. “Maybe you’ll get a raise.”
Downing half of my beer in one pull, I try to calm my thundering heart rate. “You’re not funny.”
“Beg to differ, I’m hilarious,” he counters, but when he sees I’m not biting, he sobers up a bit. “So you have to get a new job, that’s not the end of the world.”
“It’s MalcolmDrake,Beck! You think anyone will hire me by the time he’s through, if there’s even anything left? Besides, he’s got her locked away up in his penthouse and only four of us even know she exists. As far as I know, I’m the only one that’s actually seen her. I piss him off, I’m never-” I sigh, finishing off my drink and taking another out of the case between us on the floor. “I’ll never see her again. At least now I have access, and if he trusts me, there’s no reason to call anyone else up there to scent mark her.” My chest rumbles with the low growl. “I don’t think I can handle someone else doing it, especially when it’s the only way I can actually protect her, right now.”
He’s quiet for a long minute, and that’s how I’m sure that I’m screwed and not just missing something. Beck is all easy answers and pointing out the obvious when I get lost overcomplicating things in my head, so if even he’s scrambling for a viable solution? I might need to start resigning myself to a life of guarding my mate from the shadows and stealing quick glances to keep a shred of my sanity intact.
Beck’s voice is a slow drawl as he carefully words, “She doesn’t belong to Malcolm, you realize that, right? And no one has the ability to reject mate claims except the two involved; pack doesn’t get to overrule and deny someone their missing piece.”
