Chasing Trouble (4 page)

I
t was not
my finest moment. I'd slept with guys for less, of course, but still. Benedict was a nice guy. He might be a lawyer and a lion and an overall dick to pretty much everyone in the world, but he'd been nice to me. The only way to save his life was to get him to stop asking questions about my business with Val. And the fastest way to get a guy to stop asking questions was to give him something to do with his mouth.

At least he was handsome. And a lot fucking stronger than I bargained for, as his arms tightened around me and he pressed his face between my breasts. I kept fiddling with his shirt and tie, wishing I'd gotten stretchy jeans as the denim dug into my waist. Definitely going on a diet. If I lived through the week.

I pushed the thought away. Put away the concern for Lacey and the uneasiness over what could have broken all of Cal's bones, and I even tried to ignore the stark raving terror of dealing with Val. I'd used the scary mojo on Benedict when I first walked in and he hadn't flinched. Hadn't even noticed, really, because he still tried to use his lawyer voice to make me admit what I was. Everyone feared me, whether I wanted them to or not. And yet he stood there, unwavering, as I stared at him. Unbelievable.

His mischievous left hand slid down the small of my back and into my jeans, and I jumped forward. He laughed, leaving a trail of searing kisses across my chest and over my bra. "Ticklish, are you?"

"No," I said under my breath, but that was another one of my favorite lies. I wasn't ticklish like I wasn't a coward. My head tilted back as he squeezed my butt, and I revised my plans. Sleeping with him would be worth it, even if it cost me an hour. I slid my hand down between us, over the front of his trousers, and blinked. Maybe two hours. Fuck it, maybe I'd stay the whole night. Finding a man who wasn't immediately dick-droopingly terrified of me was pretty rare.

Finding one who also had an enormous hard-on and hands like a Swedish masseur was even rarer.

I rocked my hips to his and tore at his shirt, the buttons flying across the room. The mojo wanted him too, and I didn't think I could have stopped for any amount of money in the world. "Clothes. Off."

He grumbled something in his chest and stood, taking me with him until I floated, legs wrapped around his waist. Benedict smiled, looking all love-drunk and adorable, and he kissed me. It started sweet, like him, then deepened until I drowned, until the cold melted out of my eyes and fire ignited instead, until molten lava cascaded through my veins and all of me caught fire. My fingers ran up the back of his neck and into his hair, working at his scalp to keep his face close to mine.

Benedict dropped me on the bed and I bounced, trying to take a deep breath as he loomed over me. "Normally," he said, voice deep and rough. "I like to take my time."

I sat up and pulled at his belt, felt the fire consuming me from the inside out. "Don't make me wait."

He laughed, but it was half-purr, and he kissed between my breasts as he tugged on the button of my jeans. Fumbling clothes off took too much time but eventually our shoes and pants were off and his weight settled against me. He kissed my cheek, my jaw, bit at my earlobe, and I wiggled, hands sliding to his lower back. Benedict grumbled, fingers bold at my hip. "Did you know your underwear is inside out?"

My cheeks heated and I bit him back, taking his lower lip in my teeth before saying, "Is that really all you noticed?"

"Well," he said. His knee nudged between my thighs after he stripped off the offending garment, and his fingers traced a fiery trail down my hip and over my stomach, sliding down and over the aching flesh where desire gathered. I sighed and moved my hips, lifting to facilitate as he stroked and probed and gently explored territory no one had been brave enough to dare in years. "I may have sensed something else."

I knew it was the mojo working on us both. I knew it. I still wanted him, still pulled him on top of me until that massive cock nudged at my body and eased inside. He looked drunk or drugged, gaze fuzzy and heated as he kissed me. But even with the lust and burning magic between us, he held himself above me, careful to rock back and forth until my muscles relaxed and he slid deeper. There was none of the forceful thrusting or fucking or rutting that I expected from the lion, only a gentle taking, possessing. Asking.

My back arched as his stomach rested against mine and it was too much, too full, with a deep ache. His mouth trailed down my throat. "Are you okay?"

"Too much," I whispered, running my hands up his cheeks to seize his hair. "I love it but it's too much."

He kissed me, tongue lazily exploring my mouth as he eased back and I could breathe. His body slipped from mine and he squeezed my hip. "Get on top of me, baby."

Benedict lay on his back, muscles tense, and helped me slide onto his chest. He held himself still and guided me back until he entered me and I tensed, sighing with the unbelievable heat of his body. He countered the fire in my chest from the mojo, the angry gorgon blood running in my veins, and Benedict kneaded my ass to pull me down on his cock. "A little more, baby."

I lay full-length on him, head on his shoulder, and rocked until I felt complete. Full and complete and connected to him in a way I hadn't ever felt before. Ever. I moaned as he kept squeezing my ass and hips and thighs, pulling my knees to either side of his hips so I could brace and begin a leisurely ride.

He murmured in my ear, kissing me and squeezing my breasts and grasping at where my thighs sloped up to my butt, but he let me set the pace. The fire swirled up inside me and my muscles seized up, clamping down on him, and Benedict groaned, hips lifting to meet me for the first time in a sudden thrust. I cried out as stars sparked in my eyes and I couldn't move, almost paralyzed as pleasure rolled through me, wave after wave, and still he moved, thrusting steadily when I remained still.

Benedict's arms tightened around me, kept my breasts flattened against his chest as he moved with more urgency, more force, and another orgasm steamrolled through me. He growled in my ear and went rigid, jerking underneath me as the hot rush of his release flooded my insides. My eyes closed as I rested my head on his chest, listening to his racing heart. A fine sheen of sweat covered both of us; a drop beaded on my temple, rolled down my cheek and dropped to his chest.

He petted my back from shoulders to ass, over and over in a soft stroke that had me stretch and settle against him. Benedict kissed my forehead, exhaling in a gust as he reached for the sheet to cover us both. Something like a purr rumbled through him, turned into a snore.

I only meant to close my eyes for a moment to enjoy the afterglow and the strength of his arms around me, but the next time I lifted my head, the battered alarm clock on the side table said it was almost one a.m. With the mojo faded along with the rage and fire, reality set in. I had two days, probably less, to find Lacey and figure out who stole the money. I couldn't waste any more time canoodling with Benedict Chase.

He still slept, a snore rattling in his throat, and smacked his lips as I untangled myself and slid to the end of the bed. I got dressed after cleaning up as best I could -- I didn't dare another shower, either from fear of waking him up or catching something toxic from that bathroom. I gathered his clothes and shoes and phone, and stuffed them into my shopping bag, looking back regretfully at where he still slept. If he chased after me, Val would kill him. She would figure out a way to kill the lion.

The thought haunted me as I slid out of the room and then out of the hotel, heading to a familiar bar a few blocks away. Calling in a favor from the owners of O'Shea's wasn't the way I would have liked to end the night, but it beat trying to go home. Doubtless the Chase brothers would be able to track me there. I needed to go to ground, and if any of the packs had a problem with Val using their territory for the ransom drop, Rafe would have heard about it.

I slid into O'Shea's and through a crowd of what looked like frat boys. I kept my eyes down but they still cleared a path, most looking at me and then moving uneasily away. Too much of the scary stuff still floating around me. I made a beeline for the bar, where Rafe pulled pints and Ruby argued with a couple of girls with clearly fake IDs. Rafe's dark, raven-wing eyebrows rose as he looked at me. "Well. Look what the cat dragged in."

My cheeks burned but I slid onto the bar stool without wincing too much. My lady parts would definitely remember Benedict Chase for a while. I rested my elbows on the bar. "I need a drink, but I need some information more."

He leaned to consider the paper bag of clothes I left by the end of the bar. "That's it?"

"Maybe a place to sleep it off tonight. If you don't mind."

"Hmm." He put a beer in front of me, then rested his elbows on the smooth wood of the bar. "What do you need to know?"

"Lacey Szdoka was kidnapped night before last, and last night someone stole the ransom money but didn't deliver the girl. Do you know who's got her?"

Rafe let out a low whistle, stepping back as if to get distance from just a hint of the hyena band's troubles. "Shit. Who'd be stupid enough to take one of Val's kids?"

I squirmed a little, trying to keep the door in the corner of my eye. Just in case Benedict Chase was psychic, too, and knew where I went. "That's what I'm trying to find out. The ransom drop happened about six blocks west of here, in the alley behind Aaron's Chili Bowl."

He glanced over at Ruby, then shook his head as he considered me. "That's not our turf, but the SilverLine Pack might know if anything funny happened. Have you dealt with Miles and his guys before?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose as the migraine returned with a throbbing agony. Miles Evershaw and his band of merry men. I sighed. "Not recently. Most wolves don't like me."

"We'll send someone with you." Rafe concentrated on slicing a few limes and tossing them into the mixed drinks for a few frat boys farther down the bar. "But tell me, why is this your problem, Eloise?"

"Val is making it my problem," I said, closing my eyes as I drank and the cool alcohol extinguished some of the brimstone still percolating in my guts. "I dropped the ransom and she thinks I stole it instead."

"Did you?" Ruby asked, frowning as she took up real estate next to her brother.

Offended, I put a hand to my chest and sat back. "Moi? How dare you."

Her only response was to raise one of her slightly less-bushy eyebrows.

I winked and finished the beer. "Of course I didn't. I know better than to steal from Val Szdoka."

"What about from Benedict Chase?"

I choked on the beer, almost snorted it out my nose, and spent the next minute coughing and hacking and trying to breathe. When I finished, eyes watering as I struggled to inhale, Ruby didn't look away from me as she gestured at the bag. "Because some of his stuff is in that bag, and if I'm not mistaken, some of his ... stuff is in you, too."

"Holy shit, Ruby," her brother said under his breath, looking a little embarrassed on my behalf. "Mind your fucking business."

"She wants to shelter in our den, it's my business who she's fucking and who she's fucking over." Ruby pointed a crimson talon in my face. "Look at me, kid."

I ground my teeth but did as she said, knowing that the quicksilver in my eyes would throw her into the line of liquor bottles behind her. Rafe took a step back but Ruby remained leaning over the bar, unmoved and unimpressed. "Here's the thing, chickie pie. Our pack is officially unofficially connected to the Chases. So I'm going to ask, on behalf of Logan Chase and his mate Natalia Spencer, what is the nature of your relationship with Benedict Chase?"

The words caught in my throat as I stared at her, wondering why the mojo didn't work on Ruby O'Shea. She waited. When I managed to speak, though, my voice came out smaller than I intended. "He helped me. I ... thanked him. That's it."

Her eyes narrowed, dark and deep. "Your word that your relationship with Benedict is not at the direction of or for the benefit of Valentina Szdoka?"

"It's not." I cleared my throat and squared my shoulders. Time to be a big girl and a scary gorgon. "I'm trying to protect him from her. She did not like that he helped me."

Ruby made a disgruntled noise, then shoved off the bar and upright once more, glancing at her watch. "Okay. Get your ass upstairs and shower. Tomorrow morning you're going to mop the floors in here and help me drag stock up from the basement, and I'll have someone take you over to Miles."

Rafe shook his head and help up his hands. "Sorry, El. I would have let you stay for free, but everyone knows Ruby's meaner than I am."

"No shit." I got to my feet, feeling wobbly. "What am I going to have to pay Miles to get any info?"

"That's between you and Miles." Ruby snapped her fingers at one of her pack minions and gave directions to contact the other pack and start arranging the complex meeting arrangements. "So best figure that out yourself. It won't be cheap."

I sighed and dragged towards the stairs, just past the office they shared. "Thank you, Ruby. Please don't tell anyone about Benedict. It's not something I want spread around."

"Then get in the fucking shower," she said under her breath. "We have noses, you idiot. And you're welcome. Get some sleep, you look like hell fucked over."

"Go fuck yourself," I said under my breath, though my face burned as I climbed the stairs to their guest quarters. That was the worst part about working with shifters -- they knew more about you than you could ever know about them. Not that I wanted to know when someone was in heat.

At least their shower had scalding hot water and fluffy towels and neutral shampoo and no mildew or creepy stuff on the floor. I stood under the stream of water and tried to force the tension from my shoulders. Mopping floors would be worth it just for the shower. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

H
e dreamed of her
. And when he woke up, the bed was empty. Not even the pillow retained an indent, and he wondered if she'd used some sort of spell on him. Maybe she was a witch, with those crazy damn eyes.

Benedict groaned as he sat up and looked at the clock, scrubbing a hand over his face. He needed to shave before he started to look like Logan. He looked around for his clothes and shoes and phone, and found nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Anger boiled up in his gut as he made a quick tour of the room, then put his fist through the wall. Unbelievable. She took everything. Every scrap of clothing. His wallet --
again
. No note, no explanation, nothing. Just slipped out like she'd never been there. Like they hadn't slept together.

The memory of her warm body encasing his, welcoming him, moving over him contradicted the disregard of her disappearing act, and Benedict sat on the bed, head in his hands. It didn't make sense. She returned from arguing with the hyenas, slept with him, then disappeared again. If she needed help, she would have stayed around. If Szdoka wanted to trap or kill him, he'd be dead. Finished.

He picked up the cheap phone on the bedside table, praying it worked, and was both relieved and resentful when it did. He dialed Edgar's cell phone, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep a headache at bay. That goddamn girl. His lion grumbled and growled as the phone rang, wanting to track her down. She carried his scent, she was his. She needed to be with him.

Edgar's voice was rusty with sleep. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Pick me up."

A groan, then a sigh. "What happened?"

"Don't want to talk about it. I'm at the hotel. Room 202. Bring a go bag up."

"Why?"

Benedict didn't have to see his brother's face to know a slow smile crept over his expression. He gritted his teeth and covered his eyes. "Give me a break."

"I'm not getting out of bed until you tell me why you need the go bag."

"She took my clothes." Each syllable sent him further and further into fury and grief. Why had she left? "Get over here."

A chuckle, but at least it sounded like Edgar moved. "And how did she get all your clothes, big guy?"

"Fuck. Off." But he didn't hang up. Benedict stared at the stained carpet, toes curling up from touching it. Christ, he needed a shower. Or twenty. And industrial strength soap and steel wool.

"Slept with her, didn't you." It was one of Edgar's specialties, asking a question as if it weren't.

"Yeah." He sighed. "Just get here, will you?"

"Give me thirty minutes." Edgar yawned, words lost in the grumble, then followed up with, "Your girl is quite a cipher, brother. See you in a bit."

The line went dead and Benedict stared at the receiver in his hands. Cipher wasn't quite the word for it. Mysterious, intoxicating, intriguing, annoying as hell... Those all worked.

It took Edgar forty minutes. Benedict, still naked, paced a short circuit through the small, dingy room, throwing the door open when he heard a knock. He took the go bag and almost shut the door in his brother's face based just on Edgar's grin.

Edgar grimaced as he shut and locked the door, looking around the room with raised eyebrows. "Jesus, Benedict. This is where you take your girl for a night of fun?"

"Not my idea. I would have taken her to the Plaza but we didn't get a chance to -- talk about it first." He dug through the go bag and found the extra clothes, started dressing so he could get home and take a shower and figure out what the fuck he was going to do about Eloise.

"I'll bet you didn't." Edgar smirked, going to look out the window. He paused, sniffing at the fabric, then turned a shrewd gaze on his little brother. "Hyenas? Is she a hyena?"

"No." Benedict's clipped tone earned him a raised eyebrow look and folded arms. He cursed, holding his head to keep it from exploding with frustration. "She works for Val. Sort of. I think. Like I said, we didn't talk a lot."

Edgar made a thoughtful noise, continuing his tour of the room, and clasped his hands behind his back.

Benedict knew they wouldn't leave until Edgar got to whatever point he wanted, and flopped back on the mattress in a deliberately submissive posture. Fuck it. He wanted breakfast more than he wanted to play dominance games. "Say what you've got to say, Ed. I'm tired and hungry and I want a shower."

"Not here." Edgar took another quick look around the room, then canted his head at the door. "Back at the office. I've got a few things to show you."

They left after Benedict returned the key to the front desk clerk, who raised her eyebrows but knew better than to say anything pointed. The ride to Edgar's office was silent, thank God, but Benedict's grinding teeth were loud enough to fill the car. Luckily very few people frequented the corporate offices on a Saturday, although the guard at the front desk offered only a bland smile and a wave. He was accustomed, at least, to the odd comings and goings of the Chase brothers. Benedict had just never been one of those odd footnotes, and he didn't particularly like it.

Edgar unlocked his office and canted his head at the attached bathroom as he headed for the desk. "Shower, if you want."

"Thanks, no." Benedict frowned, searching for a chair to sit in after the mess they'd made of everything the day before, and settled for perching on the arm of the couch they hadn't destroyed. "So what's up?"

"Do you think she's targeting you?"

Benedict blinked. "What?"

"She's not exactly your type, Benedict." Edgar didn't sit, instead only leaning his fists on the desk as he studied his younger brother. "And you've known her exactly two days, probably less. Is this deliberate?"

"I doubt it."

"Why?"

Benedict shook his head, thinking of that look on her face when he touched her, the way she laughed, the lightning in her eyes. Not even the best actresses could fake that. And the hints of fear when he asked about the hyenas, when she looked out the window. Something was very wrong, she was in trouble. "I just know it. She's in trouble, it has something to do with the hyenas."

Edgar studied him closely for long enough that Benedict's irritation grew and he almost took off his flip-flip to throw at him. Finally the security chief sat, though it sounded more like he collapsed. "Okay."

"Okay? Okay what?"

"Okay, if you choose her." Edgar frowned more, digging through a stack of folders on his desk. His office wasn't nearly as messy as Benedict's, but it wasn't as pristine as Logan's.

"What do you mean, if I choose her?" Benedict got up to pace, nervous energy making it too difficult to sit still. His lion wanted to be searching for her, to be out in the city finding her. Bringing her back. But he didn't want Edgar to start talking about choosing her, and the finality of his older brother's sigh made him nervous.

Edgar gave him a long-suffering look. "You slept with the chick in less than a day and you're about to jump out of your skin because you don't know where she is. She didn't smell like a lion, but is this a true mate thing?"

"I don't think so." Benedict didn't want to look at him, instead going back to the security monitors that recorded every entry and exit and stairwell in the entire building. "Regardless, she's gone. In the wind. I have no idea where she went."

"I might." Edgar held up a hand to cut him off when Benedict spun, ready to leave. "But first you're going to sit down and look at what I dug up. Here. This is her criminal record."

Benedict reluctantly took the file folder, opening it up and wincing at the mugshot. Not flattering lighting or a good angle for anyone, really, but she looked downright sickly. And young. Much, much younger than the woman he'd slept with. Eloise Deacon. He liked the sound of Eloise Chase a lot more, then dashed the thought from his mind and told the lion to shut the hell up. One day was not long enough to decide.

He paged through it, a few counts of petty larceny, evading arrest, drinking underage. Nothing earthshattering. He looked up at his brother. "So?"

"And this is her criminal record."

Another folder. Benedict's head tilted. Different mugshot, different name, same girl. Eloise Mulder. More small potatoes crimes, but a count of forgery and possession of stolen goods.

He opened his mouth to ask but Edgar held out more folders. "There are eight total. Eight different names, different mugshots, different series of crimes."

Benedict took them, juggling the papers and photos as he tried to reconcile the master criminal in the files with the girl who'd told him to take his clothes off. Who'd lay with her head on his chest and slept. He cleared his throat. "What is this -- what does it mean?"

"Hard to say." Edgar sighed, leaning back in his fancy chair and looking out the full-length windows behind him. "Except she's probably not who you think she is, Ben. I'm sorry. By all accounts, she's not a violent criminal or a psychopath or anything, but she was arrested in the vicinity of some underground fight clubs. Several times. Too many times for it to be a coincidence."

"She's not a fighter." He shook his head, immediately rejecting the idea. "Not her."

"How do you --"

"No scars." Benedict looked at his brother, then back down at the records. "No scars anywhere, and she doesn't heal fast enough. She wouldn't survive in the fights. There has to be another reason she would be around there."

"Maybe you can ask Atticus."

Edgar said it so calmly, so casually, that Benedict answered before he even thought. "Maybe. I don't think Atticus pays attention to the crowd, though." And a heartbeat later, as the silence stretched, he sat back. Put the folders down to rub his temples. He needed some aspirin. Or a bottle of whisky. "How did you know?"

"That Atticus is a street fighter? I didn't, not for sure. Thank you for confirming it." Edgar's expression grew more severe as he sat up and made a few notes on a paper. "That's what he keeps getting arrested for?"

"Yes. He's going to stop." Benedict wanted to help Eloise, but Atticus was his little brother and he'd gone down a wrong path. He didn't want Edgar to bring the hammer down and ruin his life. "Let him figure it out."

"He's going to get killed. Or kill someone else." Edgar rubbed his jaw, beard rasping against his palm. "Then how are you going to explain that to Logan? And Mother?"

Benedict made a face, holding up his hands. "He's good. You talk to him, Ed, but don't get Logan involved. He'll break Atticus's legs to keep him from going, and that won't work. Not with baby brother."

The security chief sighed, then pointed at the file folders. "I'll think about what to do with Atticus, but that can wait. I'll just work the shit out of him until he's too tired to fight. What do you want to do with your girl?"

"She's not mine," Benedict said in a low voice. In the most recent mugshot, she looked tired. Exhausted and sad and beaten down. Like she was just waiting for the charges that kept her in jail.

"Do you want her to be?"

"I barely know her, as you pointed out."

Edgar glanced at his watch. "But if you want the time to get to know her, Ben, you need to make a decision. She's in with some awful people, not least of which is Val. And there's tension brewing around the hyenas with a couple other clans, but no one can really suss out why. If she's in the middle of it, early intervention will be necessary to keep her alive."

Benedict snorted. "You can't be --" but cut off when he saw Edgar's expression. "You seriously think she's in danger?"

Edgar gave him a long look, then shoved to his feet. "Leave the folders. I'll take you back to the house so you can clean up, then we'll meet Logan for dinner at O'Shea's."

"I don't want to put up with Ruby tonight, seriously." Benedict left the stack of paper on Edgar's desk. "And their food is terrible."

"Your girl stayed with Ruby and Rafe last night." His brother said it over his shoulder, as if it were nothing. "They know more about her, but they're not talking to me. Maybe if you ask with that stupid fucking lovesick look in your eyes, they'll spill."

Benedict almost tripped over himself following Edgar out of the office. "She stayed with them? Is she still there?"

"Yes, and no." Edgar shook his head as he punched the buttons on the elevator with more force than necessary. "But you know who we're dealing with, so get your shit together. Ruby is still irritated Logan claimed her best friend, so if you go in there and steal away one of her fences, it'll be even more."

"She's a fence?" Benedict ran a hand through his hair and stared at the blank elevator doors. "Great. At least she knows how to get rid of stuff."

By the look Edgar shot him, he wasn't impressed. Benedict couldn't quite hide his grin. The hunt was on.