In Deeper (21 page)

She turned and ran upstairs, away from the person who’d simultaneously answered her prayers and ripped her dreams apart.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Micah watched Celeste leave and felt like the lowest piece of shit in the universe. She was furious with him. She had every right to be. But after listening to Drake’s conversation with the GBOPA, he refused to allow Celeste’s involvement. It was a serious business they were dealing with, and she’d already gotten too close to the flame once before. He needed to turn the villains’ attention away from Celeste, and the only way to accomplish it was to ensure she was far away from the line of fire.

They’d gone from investigating corporate espionage to a war on shifters. In a million years, he never would’ve imagined someone would go after the Society by starting with Celeste. She was no weak link in the chain. Apparently she’d been convenient; it was the only reason he imagined. Damned Karl, or Charles or whatever his name was, would be in for a rude awakening when Micah found him. No one poisoned his mate and got away with it.

He glanced toward the stairs Celeste had stormed up a couple minutes before and sighed. He’d be lucky if he convinced her he’d made the right decision. Right now, she probably thought he’d stolen her coveted position, and she’d be right. He had taken it. But he’d done what he’d had to do to keep her safe.

It would take time, but she’d realize he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Everyone had known being beta wasn’t in the cards for him. Not until his hand was forced.

The sound of a door closing behind him alerted him to Drake’s presence.

“Not too happy with you, is she?” the alpha questioned.

Micah turned toward him. “Not very. It’s for the best, though.”

“Of course. I know it. You know it. Celeste will forgive you. She’s stubborn but not stupid. She won’t blame you.”

“Eventually,” Micah muttered. “How did Leo get in?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll find out during our meeting.”

Micah chuckled. “Probably a security secret he’s not at liberty to discuss.”

“If he wants my help, he’ll damn sure discuss it.” Drake’s eyes flashed with determination, but a smirk lightened his expression. “So, someone has it out for shifters. What in the hell do we do now?”

The weight of his new title settled on Micah’s shoulders. Was this what it felt like for Celeste, to carry the load around with her no matter where she went? “We must call a meeting. The sooner, the better.”

“I’ll call the prime members. They can get the word out to the others. We’ll need everyone.” Drake gestured to the stairs. “Go. Talk to her.”

Micah went upstairs to search for Celeste. He found her in the guest room, furiously tossing clothing into the luggage they’d brought from her house. She’d moved some of her clothes into his room, but the majority had been left in the spare bedroom. “Where are you going?”

She didn’t deign to speak. Instead, she tossed a deadly pair of stilettos into the suitcase and glared at him.

He lounged in the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest and scrutinizing her. “You’re not leaving.”

“Who says?” she barked out. “You?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed. “Did you forget there is someone out there who wants to kill you?”

“Not just me. The entire Society.” She made sweeping motions with her hands. “The pressure is off me now. I can go home, and you and Drake can handle the situation on your own.”

“You forgot one tiny, little detail.” He shoved away from the door and approached her.

She zipped the suitcase closed and slid it off the bed and onto the floor. “What’s that?”

“I love you. I’m not letting you go.”

She plopped her hands on her slim hips and huffed. “You can’t stop me.”

He noticed she’d ignored his first statement. “Don’t be like this.”

“Like what?” She waved her hand at him. “Like you didn’t steal my place within the Society? Like you didn’t break my heart?”

He grabbed her hand in an effort to keep it from flapping in his face. “You lied, Celeste. You should’ve confided in me. What you did was stupid. Brave but completely reckless. I wasn’t ready before, but I am now. You made me this way. I became beta because of you, not in spite of you. Can’t you see that?”

“No, I can’t.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp. “You never wanted it before.”

“I never needed it before.” He stepped between her and the suitcase. She tried to lunge around him, grabbing at the handles, but he caught her around the waist. “You were a wonderful beta. But let me do this. Give me a chance to prove I’m worthy of you.”

She stopped struggling and blinked several times. “You don’t have to prove anything. Why can’t
you see that? I loved you, dumb ass. I don’t care what you do, or who you are, or how much money you have. I loved you!”

“Loved?” He rubbed at her spine, toying with the small strip of skin her shirt displayed there. “Past tense?”

She dropped her head onto his shoulder, muffling her voice. “No. I’m angry, but I haven’t changed my mind about you.”

Relief thrummed through his veins. “I’m glad. I’d thought you would be proud of me. You gave me hell when we were kids, and I didn’t want to play according to the Society’s rules.”

She lifted her head and nodded. “I am proud. I just wish I’d had warning. To be honest, it’s a relief. One responsibility I don’t have to deal with gone.”

“I’m sorry you have to cancel the gala.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. This is more important. Why have they come to Savannah? Why are they targeting the Society?”

“I don’t know.” He spoke with complete confidence. “But we’re going to find out.”

* * *

Celeste spent most of the day on the phone. It was a monumental task to call everyone involved with the anniversary celebration and inform them the event was canceled until further notice. Without her once-trusted assistant, she fielded the calls and e-mails herself. Not surprisingly, the threatening messages stopped. Had Karl been responsible for them all along? He’d most certainly been the one to poison her.

The biggest obstacle was calling the board and explaining the need for a cancelation. She had managing power, but she sensed the other members suspected she lied when she blamed catering for falling through. Somehow she convinced them of the necessity for food, and they agreed to push the celebration back for another week.

Once the notifications were taken care of, she went in search of Micah. He’d holed up in Drake’s study for most of the morning. Normally she would’ve barged into his office, assured of her place, but now she was at a loose end. She was a beta without a position. She would have to adjust to not knowing Drake’s mind until it was revealed at the monthly meetings. She’d never experienced such freedom. With no work to do and no Society dealings to manage, she had an afternoon free.

The sound of laughter drew her to the patio. Emma and Alyssa lounged in the sun. They were closely guarded by Lance and Reed, who pretended not to observe them, their eyes trained on all the places an enemy could approach.

A shiver raced down Celeste’s spine. For the first time, she admitted the danger they were in. When she’d thought it was just her in danger, it hadn’t mattered. But the entire Society being targeted made her nervous. The Randolphs and the Society were her family, and she didn’t want to lose any one of them.

Emma noticed her first. She lifted her dark sunglasses and motioned Celeste forward. “Come join us. Would you like a glass of lemonade?”

Celeste moved forward, smiling at the alpha’s bride. She’d never done this, lazed in the sun and enjoyed girl talk. She’d always been too busy, too concerned with work and Society business to take a breather. “Thank you. I’d love one.”

Alyssa leaned forward and poured a glass. She handed the tumbler to Celeste before resuming her position on the lounge chair. “This is the first time I haven’t seen you dressed up.”

Celeste glanced down at the shirt she was wearing. She’d ditched Micah’s hoodie, but still wore the faded football T-shirt she’d found in his closest. It smelled like him, reminding her of what it was like to be in his arms. She plucked at the vinyl number in the center of her chest and grinned. “Latest fashion.”

Alyssa hummed and gave her a broad wink. “Suits you.” She patted the lounger next to her. “Here. Cop a squat.”

Celeste made a move toward the lounger. Before she sat, a cracking sound, followed by the shattering of glass, caught her off-guard. Her shifter senses kicked in, and she caught a familiar whiff. Dampness and cheap soap. Karl.

Lance and Reed were already in motion, guns drawn and at the ready. “Get down,” one of them yelled and motioned for her to duck. She fell to the wooden surface of the deck and curled in as small a ball as possible.

“Oh my God. You’re bleeding!”

Emma’s exclamation made Celeste’s head whip around. She spotted Alyssa on the ground, and Celeste crawled to her. Celeste saw no blood. “Are you shot?”

Alyssa’s eyes were round as saucers. “Not me. You are.”

Celeste glanced down. She’d been so caught up in the moment she hadn’t felt the bullet graze her upper arm, leaving a shallow wound in its wake. She clamped her hand over the wound and hissed. It was only a minor injury, but now that adrenaline had worn off, it hurt like a bitch. “It’s nothing. Just a little scratch.”

“Did you see who it was?” Emma asked. She’d turned and propped her back against the wall. Alyssa crouched beside her, her body hovering around Emma to shield the mother-to-be.

“No,” Celeste answered. But she’d smelled him. It was Karl. Had to be. His scent had been distinctive, almost like musty books, and she’d assumed he spent his spare time in old libraries. “I should go help Lance and Reed.”

Alyssa opened her mouth, but before giving voice to any protest she may have had, a stern masculine voice commanded, “You’re not going anywhere. You three stay here.”

Celeste glanced up, prepared to argue with Drake, but the sight of Micah right behind him halted her. She wasn’t the beta anymore. Any argument she came up with wouldn’t be considered now. Oddly it didn’t bother her as much as she’d thought it would.

Micah brushed past Drake and bent down to her. “Are you OK?”

The concern in his beautiful eyes undid her. She clamped her hand tighter around her wound, stanching the blood flow so he wouldn’t worry. “The bullet grazed me. I’ll be fine. Lance and Reed ran to the right side of the house. Go. Help them.”

Micah pressed a light kiss to her lips and got to his feet. “Let’s go.”

Drake helped his wife across the broken glass of the patio’s sliding door and stepped back so Alyssa could jump across the broken pieces into the safety of the house. Celeste followed them, keeping her body low just in case the shooter was still in the area.

Drake stopped her. “Watch over Emma and Alyssa for me. Micah may be the beta now, but I’m still relying on you. You’ve done well, Celeste.”

The alpha’s praise went a long way toward soothing her ruffled feathers. “Thank you.”

His expression turned fierce. “Now get in there and call the doctor to come stitch you up.”

“OK.” She darted into the house and ushered the other females away from the broken glass. “Let’s go upstairs.”

By the time they reached the guest room, Alyssa already had her cell phone out and was on the phone with the doctor. The pain had receded, and Celeste doubted it would take many stitches to close her up, but with her body still weakened by the poison, it was worth the time to call for medical care.

“Who was it?” Emma peered at Celeste with intent. “You know, don’t you?”

Celeste saw no reason to keep it a secret. “I think it was Karl, or Charles, as he’s also known. My former assistant.”

“Oh.” Alyssa disconnected the call to the doctor and tossed aside her phone. “That sucks. Why would he want to kill you?”

Celeste shrugged out of her bloody T-shirt and went in search of a towel to press to the wound. The jagged flesh wound made her queasy, but she pressed the cloth to her arm and returned to the others. “I’m not sure.”

She didn’t know how much of the situation Drake had told them, and she didn’t want to frighten the ladies if it turned out to be nothing.

Emma continued to peer at Celeste. “Was he the one who poisoned you?”

“Probably.” Celeste hated the reminder of how blind she’d been. She should’ve paid closer attention to Karl. They wouldn’t be in this position if she had. “I’m sorry I brought this to your home.”

Emma waved her comment aside. “You’re family. We’re in this together.”

Celeste’s throat thickened with tears. After all that had happened, Emma trusted her. Even more, she considered her family. Alyssa carefully put an arm over her shoulder. “Drake and Micah will find this fucker, and it’ll be all over.”

Celeste wished she was so certain. Even if they found Karl, they may not discover the head of the gang. Somehow she doubted mousy little Karl was the mastermind. “I hope so.”

She glanced down at her previously white lace bra and grimaced. “I suppose I should find something to wear before the doctor gets here.”

Emma dug through the closet and pulled out a sleeveless blouse of Celeste’s. “Here you go. It’s silk though. I hate to ruin it.”

“It’s fine.” Celeste didn’t care if she ruined her clothes. The important thing was finding Karl so they could discover who was behind the planned attack on the Society. That, and making sure she wasn’t shirtless when the doctor arrived.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The memory of the blood dripping down Celeste’s arm pushed Micah harder, faster than he’d ever run. As he rounded the side of the house, he caught a scent. Faint but enough for him to suspect the shooter had fled to the right once he got to the end of the driveway. Gunpowder hung in the air, but the musty smell would be the one he’d use to track the bastard.

Drake followed him without argument, as if the alpha knew more than the desire for his family’s well-being drove Micah. Revenge was the primary motive, but Micah had to keep his cool. It would serve no purpose to let his anger get the better of him.