Allure of the Wolf (Seraphine Thomas Book 2) (16 page)

“I’m not sure what else needs to be discussed, sir.” I stirred my latte and threw in a few more ice cubes as I danced out of Tristan’s way.

“I should have checked with you. I knew you wouldn’t like the attention but I did it anyway, but you have every right not to be the
poster child
or whatever when you’re working to do what’s best for your team. For the record, I would never have called anyone in if I wasn’t
sure
you’d have won.”

I gripped my fork until it started to bend, and then I backed off, taking a few slow deep breaths. I wanted to chew him out. I wanted to tell him where to stuff his apology. I wanted to say
no fucking shit he shouldn’t have
.

But he was my
boss,
so instead, I replied, “You thought I’d aligned with my wolf or whatever. I didn’t even know that was a thing or needed to be done.”

“Yeah, I thought you did,” he sighed. “You were too powerful to not have.”

“Apparently not,” I grumbled as I sat down on one of the kitchen counter stools. “It’s fine, Chief, whatever you think is best for our squad, I’m—”

“Don’t give me the company line shit, Sera. I was an ass, I’m apologizing. We don’t just do what’s best for the bureau. We’re a
real
team and we protect our people too. I thought a few pictures would chap your ass, and I’d grovel but you’d forgive me if it helped
our
cause. I would never, not
ever
have thrown you under the bus or tried to embarrass you for all the budget in the world.”

“Wow, you apologize well, Chad,” I chuckled. “Okay, you’re forgiven.” I glanced at Tristan. “Is it cool if I invite him over for dinner? I want to fill him in outside of the office on what I worked out with Havers, but we said it was our day.”

“If he clears me to help you with the wolf case now and you’re not wearing
that
in front of him,” Tristan informed me as his fangs popped out. “No more FBI bosses coming after you.”

“What are you wearing?” Monroe drawled.

“Nothing,” I sighed. I cut up a few bites and pushed them around the plate when Tristan poured some syrup for me.

“Well, yeah—um—please put on some clothes—”

“No, I’m
dressed
,” I groaned, rolling my eyes when Tristan started laughing, more than able to hear the conversation with our super-duper hearing. “I’m still in my pj’s. He just meant I needed to—never mind.” I picked up my fork and stabbed Tristan in the arm with it when he kept laughing. “I was calling to ask permission for Tristan to consult on this Engle thing. I could use the help—”

“You haven’t asked him
yet
?” Monroe interrupted me.

“He’s not cleared,” I answered, not sure why that was an issue.

“Sera, we’re going to need to discuss removing the protocol pole out of your ass sometime soon,” my boss muttered. “For one, you’re no longer a special agent in charge, you’re a division chief. It’s
completely
within your purview to give clearance on a case at your discretion. Secondly, Tristan and Riley are always a green light. You’ve sovereigned them. They couldn’t betray you if their lives depended on it—which they
do
. Yes, consult with Tristan. I’ll see you around dinner, thanks for the invite. I can’t wait to hear what you and Havers came up with.”

We hung up, and I shook my head as I dug in on my French toast, moaning at the taste. Then I realized there was one more call I should make on the weekend. I pulled out my laptop, giving Tristan a quick kiss as an apology, and ran a name through the FBI database, getting a home number.

“Hello, Curtis residence,” a young voice greeted.

Tristan’s eyebrows shot up at who answered, but I waved him off. I wasn’t calling for the
kid
. “Hi, Jerome please.”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“Seraphine Thomas.”

“
Dad
, there’s a Seraphine Thomas on the phone for you!” the kid hollered, Tristan and I smiling at each other. Well, the boy was really polite until almost taking out my ear.

“Chief Thomas, how did you get this number?” a gruff and annoyed Jerome Curtis asked me a few moments later. He’d never been my biggest fan, and I could only
imagine
how much more unlikeable calling him on his private home line on the weekend made me.

“I work for the FBI, sir, and I’m good at my job,” I chuckled. “I apologize for calling you at home and on a Sunday, but Brian Havers said you wished for some answers to some personal and professional questions.”

“I asked them of
Havers
.”

“I know you did, but he doesn’t have the answers. I do.”

There was a pause and I knew a smart, experienced man like Curtis was putting the pieces together. “And calling me at home on a Sunday says you’re willing to talk but off the record.”

“I am. Do you give me your word this stays between us?” He grunted and I sighed. “Sir, I know you think I cheated in your training, but I
didn’t
. I worked my ass off, just like every other agent, and I respect you enough that I’m taking a leap here to be a straight shooter and talk with you. You’re a man of honor, and I’m asking for you not to let my honesty bite me in the ass later. Can I count on you for that?”

“You can, Thomas,” he agreed after a moment.

“Good. What do you want to know?” I winced, waiting for the first question.

“Are you a clairvoyant?”

“Yes.”

“I
knew
it! How can you say that you didn’t—”

“But I’m not a full one,” I clarified, interrupting his gloating. “Look, sir, I don’t know much about clairvoyants, but from what I
do,
they’re able to read objects—I can’t. I
barely
get reads and usually
only
if
I’m touching someone, completely focused, or if it’s specifically about me. The one time it really helps me is in a fight. That’s why I never said anything. It might be more accurate to say I had clairvoyant
tendencies
. It’s extreme emotional times, stuff like that.”

“You never touched anyone in our interrogation simulations,” he hedged.

“No, sir, I never did. I
didn’t
cheat.”

“I believe you. You have no reason to lie now.”

“That’s not entirely true,” I grumbled, pinching the bridge of my nose. This wasn’t going well. “I do want something from you, but I’ll get to that, and I’m
still
telling the truth. I never told anyone because I didn’t know what the hell I was for sure, what I could do, and the FBI farms out clairvoyants like crystal balls until they break. I can’t read people when I try to lots of times and never an object. I’m a bad clairvoyant to be honest, sir.”

“Fair enough. So that’s why you didn’t know Bernard and his team were shifters?”

“Correct. Never got a thing from him… Actually—” I blinked down at my now empty plate. “
Shit
. I never thought about that but I wonder if I could only sometimes read other humans? Strong emotions made me get things but I
did
shake Bernard’s hand, he even kissed mine once trying to be smooth. I never got a
thing
. I mean, he would have had to been thinking he was a wolf right that second for me to have picked up on even a hint, but he was like a blank slate.”

“You really are a bad clairvoyant, Thomas,” he chuckled as if trying to make me feel better like missing out on Bernard wasn’t my fault. Hindsight made everything seem clearer than in the heat of the moment.

“You have
no
idea, sir.”

“How did you skip the whole safe house, new-wolf watch protocols?”

“Wow, you
really
have been checking up on me, sir,” I mumbled, glancing at Tristan. He was staring at me with his fork frozen halfway to his mouth.

“A
lot
have people have now with the ruckus your squad in MNSTR and Monroe have been making about funding and to stop ignoring you guys and
use
you.”

“What are you saying, sir?” I hedged, reading between the lines. “What was your endgame at getting this information from Havers?”

“Honestly?”

I snorted. “Yes, it would be nice not to have bullshit and red tape for once.”

“It is Sunday after all. I try to keep both out of my weekend,” he chuckled again. I was starting to like the man. “There are some of us who agree with what you and Monroe are doing, have been pushing for it at Quantico too. I think there should be a whole preternatural training section even if an agent isn’t going to end up in MNSTR. They need to know what’s really out there so they know
where
to get the help they need, just like with any other case, crime, or situation.”

I pulled the phone away and blinked at it a moment. Was I being
Punk’d
?

“Sir, if you swear to me on that little boy’s life who answered the phone, I will tell
you
the truth and then I will give you an answer for the FBI I’d go on the record as saying.” Monroe and I had already worked out this story.

“Why the dual answers?” he hedged.

“Because I’m still too new in this world with what I am to know what to keep secret,” I explained carefully. “I’ve messed that up a few times already but luckily only the right people found out. Apparently what I am makes me a
very
high profile target to fanatics and other paranormals alike and I’d prefer to stay alive.”

There was another pause. “Fair enough. You have my word on my son’s life, Thomas.”

“I’m a rare strain of werewolf that’s actually a siren as well, I’m both technically.”

“I’ve never even heard of that,” he muttered.

“Most haven’t and it’s found mainly in Greece where they’re revered and kept secret, but
here
…”

“It could get you killed,” he agreed. “Okay, what’s the official line?”

“I’m probably going to be an Alpha. The power of a turned wolf is directly proportional to the wolf that made them. Bernard was
scary
powerful—I met his family and they
ooze
it. He was born one even.”

“Can you shift just parts of yourself?” he asked excitedly. “Do you have the third form?”

“Yes on both counts,” I chuckled. Wow. Now I was talking to an excited guy who’d just met his comic book hero instead of the hard-ass instructor I’d known.

“You were calling me to ask for my help training your office, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” I admitted, wondering now what it would cost me.

“I’ll make you a deal, Thomas. You come out with some of your team and lecture for the day at Quantico,
showing
us some of what paranormals can do, helping those of us make the case that this is paramount to an agent’s training to know and
use
in the field, and I’ll take vacation time if I have to and help your office. I can guarantee other instructors would be willing to as well.”

I smiled at Tristan. “Sir, you
absolutely
have a deal. Send me a list of your top requests of species and I’ll see what I can do.”

Well that had been easier than I had expected with little cost to me. Monroe was going to shit pink monkeys when he heard, thrilled at our progress.

We worked out several of the details, talking possible dates, and calendar stuff, trading numbers and emails before we hung up, both of us sounding happy we’d talked. I found Tristan in the living room, sitting on the couch scanning through my files on Engle since he knew that was coming next and he was now cleared.

“Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s fine,” he assured me, flipping another page. He didn’t sound upset at all, but still, I wanted today to be about
us
.

I focused on my siren.
Help me. Spoil him.

Consider it done,
she agreed.

And this time, it wasn’t like she took over, more I felt us merge as I had with my wolf when fighting—align or whatever. I
liked
the feeling and smiled at her.

Amazing what happens when you stop fighting me, Sera. We are on the same side and I am not your enemy.

I was truly beginning to see and understand that.

Walking over to the couch, I moved between his legs and knelt down. “Breakfast was wonderful, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, slowly lowering the file and glancing at me. I ran my hands up his thighs and under his shorts. “I thought we had lots of work to do?”

“We were working and I just got
loads
accomplished. Didn’t you in here?”

“I did actually,” Tristan groaned as my fingers brushed his most intimate parts. “I’m all for taking a break.”