A SEAL in Wolf’s Clothing (19 page)

“He seemed so mild-mannered, not in the least bit impulsive or headstrong. Not like the Knight of Swords, if he was supposed to fit the description from what you’ve told me. Unless he was a chameleon, acting one way but hiding his true character. Still, from what I’ve seen of him, I can’t imagine he might be involved in any of this.”

Rourke made a scoffing noise. “Someone sure as hell is involved in this. And from the sound of it, he could feel he has a very good reason.”

She thought back to the day she’d met Cyn. He had acted impulsively by taking her out, realizing that she was with a pack and that they wouldn’t like her going to dinner with a wolf they knew nothing about. What if he had taken her to dinner with some other nefarious intent…

What if he’d wanted to be on the team that had tried to rescue the hostages? What if he resented not being allowed to go and felt that his not being there had meant his sister’s death? What if Meara hadn’t been Cyn’s real interest at all? And now he was hunting her down. Thank God, Chris hadn’t known where she was and couldn’t have let Cyn know, not realizing he might be behind all this.

Her stomach tied in knots, she took a deep, settling breath. “He met me in Sacramento, and we had a dinner date. You probably heard about it.”

Rourke didn’t say anything for a minute as if he was thinking about it. Then he said, “The time Chris was supposed to be watching you at a bookstore, and you got away from him, and Hunter chewed Chris out?”

“That’s the time.”

“Yeah, I heard about it. A couple of guys were saying what a handful you were and they were glad they didn’t have the job.”

Knowing that word had probably spread among the pack members and was still juicy gossip months later, she shook her head. “Thanks, Rourke. If you learn anything more, let me know.”

“I will. I meant to tell Hunter, but I can’t reach him. And no one thinks I’m important enough to be allowed to call that guy who’s watching over you, even though I attempted to locate his number anyway.”

“Finn.”

“Yeah. Chris won’t let me talk to you, saying everything has to go through him. But I thought you should know, and you could pass the information along to Hunter and whoever else has a need to know.”

“No one else knows but you and me?”

“No. I dug up the information on my own. Cyn’s sister had been married three times, changing names each time, so it took some digging to learn her birth name. She wasn’t a wolf.”

Meara stared sightlessly at the bubbles in her bath. “He was a wolf.”

“Yeah, well, she wasn’t. He was changed a few years back, but she was still human.”

That didn’t make sense. Either Cyn hadn’t had the heart to change her or he had felt she wouldn’t want to be a wolf. In Tessa’s case, she’d refused to leave her brother the way he was, as close to him as she was. Meara knew that despite her differences with Hunter, if she’d been turned, she would have turned him, too.

“I’ll… I’ll pass along the information. And, Rourke, even if I haven’t said it before, you’ve been a welcome addition to the pack. No trouble at all.”

And she meant it from the bottom of her heart. When she’d learned Hunter had turned the reporter by accident, she knew it would be a disaster. But Rourke had readily accepted his role, and even shape-shifting hadn’t seemed to be much of a problem for him.
Most
of
the
time
. Still, he had to be watched over, like any recently turned, mateless werewolf, to ensure he didn’t make a mistake, and if he did, so it could be rectified quickly.

Rourke was quiet and then said, “Thank you.”

In that small bit of thanks, she heard a world of appreciation for what she’d said. That made her wish she’d said it earlier. She wasn’t in a habit of doling out praise for any little thing, which would make the praise not worth giving or receiving. Still, she should have said something before this.

She’d make it up to Rourke and show her appreciation to him somehow later, when assassins weren’t out to get her. She frowned. If Cyn
was
behind this, was it because Hunter’s sister was alive when his own was dead? But if he had been that close to his sister, Meara couldn’t understand why he hadn’t bitten and changed her. As a human, she would grow old and die, and he’d lose her eventually while he’d live on for eons. Something wasn’t right.

Goose flesh erupted on her arms, and she felt another chill race through her.

“I’ll talk to you later. I’ve got to tell Finn what you’ve learned. Thanks again.” She ended the call, but before she could lift the phone over the tub and set it on the floor away from the bubbles, the phone slipped from her soapy hand and landed in the bathwater.

Frantically, she grabbed for it, searching for the phone at the bottom of the tub. She grasped it, fished it out, and tried to turn it on. No sign of life. “Damn it all, anyway.” She dropped the dead phone on her pants outside the tub.

“Finn!” she called out, trying to get out of the tub. Oh, oh, oh. Her muscles reacted with twinges of pain in her hip and thigh when she tried to stand, reminding her that she was still sore and bruised.

She was reaching for a towel, her skin dripping with water and soap bubbles, when Finn and Paul barged into the bathroom with guns drawn. She gave a startled squeak, not expecting to see Paul with Finn, or that Finn would come that quickly. As she drew the sunny yellow towel around her, she said, “I’m all right. I just think I might know who was involved in that fiasco of a last mission of yours.”

“Who?” Finn asked, holstering his gun, while Paul took in way too much of her towel-clad but mostly naked body.

“The guy Hunter wouldn’t let me date when he was going on the mission. Although the card that was left behind with Allan doesn’t seem to represent Cyn’s behavior in the least.”

“
Sin?
” both Finn and Paul said at once.

“Do you know him?” she asked, climbing out of the tub and the much-too-cool water as Finn quickly grabbed her arm to steady her.

“No,” Finn said with a snort. “I just wondered how he ever came up with the name ‘Sin,’ and how anyone let him get near you. For that matter, how the hell do you know about the tarot card?”

“Cyn. C-Y-N, Cyn, short for Cynric, which he said comes from his Anglo-Saxon roots. He said it means powerful.”

Finn narrowed his eyes at her.

“Well, I thought he was referring to…” She gave a slight cough. “You know, the way he gave me this wickedly sinful look, like… well…” She couldn’t help the blush warming her cheeks and sliding all the way down her skin. “But then he explained his name was Anglo-Saxon in origin and…” She shrugged.

Finn’s expression was still rigid as ice, and Paul was staring at her just as hard.

“Who told you about the card?” Finn asked.

“Rourke, the reporter, newly turned. You met him at the morgue.”

“How the hell did
he
know?”

“Well, hell, Finn, it seems everyone in the pack knew about that but me. Chris told him.” She glowered at Finn.

“And you know what it means?”

“Of course.” Rourke had told her, but she wasn’t letting Finn know that she hadn’t had a clue before that.

Finn gave her an elusive smile. “When I learned the meaning of the Knight of Swords, someone came immediately to mind.”

“Let me guess.” She looked at the sparkly ceiling and then eyed Finn with annoyance. “You?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “What did he look like?”

“Let me get dressed, and I’ll describe him the best I can.”

Finn and Paul didn’t budge from the bathroom as Finn asked, “Did Hunter see him?”

“No.”

“Then why didn’t he want you seeing the man?” Finn asked, frowning again at her.

She gave him the same annoyed look back, not caring for his harsh tone. “He didn’t like his name, or what he said it meant, if you have to know.”

The way Finn was scowling at her, she could tell he didn’t like Cyn, either. Although she thought there was a deeper reason for Hunter not liking Cyn, but he wouldn’t disclose it.

“If you’ll both
leave
, I’ll get dressed, and then I’ll tell you more.”

“Tell me what, Meara?”

“He was a Navy SEAL, one of you guys. His sister was one of the hostages that died on the island during your last mission.”

Finn stared at her in disbelief, but she figured he was coming to his own conclusions about what that might mean. Paul was looking just as stunned.

“Go,” she said, motioning to the door with her free hand. “I’ll tell you what else I know after I get dressed.”

Finn gave her a stiff nod, fearing the worst—Bjornolf had been right. Meara was the one the assassin had been targeting, and now they might just have the reason.

He ushered Paul toward the door, already pulling his phone out and punching in a button. “Hunter?” he said, closing the bathroom door behind him. “What do you know about the guy Meara wanted to date named Cynric Iverson, Cyn for short. Yeah, besides that you didn’t like his damn name or what he said it stood for.”

“He called me and wanted to be on our team before I asked Allan to join us, and I said no to Iverson.”

“So what was the problem?”

“He wanted Meara, and he wasn’t good enough for her. But I suspected he was just using her to make points with me, thinking that if she fell in love with him and vouched for him, I’d let him join my team. He didn’t have the training that we needed to get the mission done. Hell, if this has to do with him, I’ll kill the son of a bitch.” Hunter didn’t say anything for a couple of heartbeats as Finn wondered how close Cyn had gotten with Meara before Hunter put an end to it.

“Did you know that Cyn’s sister was one of the hostages that died during our last mission?”

More silence, then Hunter asked, “Who told you that?”

“Rourke, your resident reporter, newly turned.”

Hunter let out his breath. “How the hell did he learn of it?”

“He’s a reporter,” Finn said, guessing Rourke was used to doing investigations.

“Hell. Then if Cyn is the one behind this, it’s damned personal.”

“Yeah, that’s just what I thought,” Finn agreed, not liking the scenario one bit.

“How’s Meara holding up?”

“She’s doing fine. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

“I’m coming home,” Hunter abruptly said.

At first, Finn thought Hunter didn’t trust him to protect her, maybe even thinking that the incident with Bjornolf at the inn proved that. But then Anna’s warning that she’d tell Hunter what Finn had been up to with Meara flashed through Finn’s mind. “Don’t believe everything Anna has to say.”

A significant pause followed. Then Hunter said, “What has Anna got to do with anything?”

Finn was totally thrown off kilter by Hunter’s question, certain that Anna had already talked to Hunter about Finn’s relationship with Meara. “Didn’t Anna call you?”

“No,” Hunter said tersely.

Finn rubbed the stubble on his chin.
Shit
.

“What was Anna going to tell me?” Hunter asked in none too friendly a manner.

“Nothing. Why are you coming home then?”

Hunter said, “Bjornolf just called me.”

“Hell.”

Hunter waited for Finn to say something more, but when he didn’t, Hunter said, “So is there something
you
want to get off your chest with me?”

“No. What the hell did
he
call you about?” Finn really hadn’t expected Bjornolf to stoop so low as to inform Hunter of Finn’s business with Meara, but well, hell. Finn knew the bastard was more than a little interested in Meara.

“He thinks Meara is the focus of this operation. That she’s the one the assassins are targeting. And if this is true about Cyn’s sister dying during our mission, I believe Bjornolf is right. Which is why I’m coming home.”

Finn’s mouth dropped open. Hell, chalk it up to feeling damned guilty about his handling of the situation between him and Meara when Hunter’s plan to return home didn’t have a thing to do with that.

“Yeah, so what did you think Bjornolf was calling me about? The same thing you thought Anna might be reporting back to me about?” Hunter asked, his tone stony.

“Hell, Hunter, she’s a grown woman.”

“You’d damn well better be talking about Anna, Finn. Meara is my
sister
. And grown or not, the same rules don’t apply.”

Finn wasn’t sure why, maybe because of the respect and admiration he’d always felt for Hunter, but at that moment, he felt like a schoolboy who was in serious shit and standing before a stern-faced, pissed-off principal.

A prolonged silence lapsed between them. Then Hunter said, “I’m boarding the flight now. I take it you want to talk to me about joining the family. If not, just let this be a warning.”

The phone clicked off and Finn found himself listening to dead air space.

Damn it all. Finn would have taken Meara for a mate in a heartbeat if he’d been wired differently. She was fun and courageous and a treasure for any male who could win her hand. Even if she was very much like the Knight of Swords. Maybe that was what he liked so much about her.

When he was all in the planning, considering every possible action and reaction like a chess player contemplating his next move, Meara would have lunged forward and played the move without regard to what could happen. In a way, he wished he was more impulsive like that. Actually, he had to admit he had been more spontaneous in dealing with Meara. He realized that she was rubbing off on him—which he found wasn’t a bad thing.

But if they became mated, she’d throw a conniption as soon as he told her he was going on a dangerous mission. He didn’t need the aggravation, and he wasn’t willing to give up that lifestyle yet.

He glanced up to see Paul watching him, looking like he knew just what had happened and truly sympathized with Finn. Paul threw up his hands and said, “I didn’t call Hunter, either. I wouldn’t have. Maybe threatened to a few more times to make you come to your senses. But I wouldn’t have actually done it, knowing how angry Hunter could get.” He tried to look like he felt Finn’s pain, but somehow the effect wasn’t quite sincere. “So what happens now?”