The Awakening: Britton (Entangled Covet) (12 page)

feeling. Why the hell was he suddenly finding her so frickin’ appealing?

Maybe it was exactly what he’d said to her. Maybe in laying the past to rest, he was finally seeing her as

Val Calhoun. The woman. Not the bitch on wheels.

Unfortunately, he was also seeing what a damn
attractive
woman she was. He hadn’t liked how Miles

had looked at her, how he wanted a “rain check.” Yeah, Britton knew what kind of rain check he had in

mind. The doctor’s reputation was as bad as Britton’s, and Val deserved better than that.

Wait.

He shook his head. She deserved better?

Man, his mind had jumped on the loco train. He and Val had just decided to be friends. Now he thought

he knew what she deserved?

The loco train had just sped by the sanity station.

If she wanted to go out with the doctor, then what the fuck did he care? Maybe a wild romp would do

her good.

A violent growl vibrated in his chest. What the
hell
? Unsettled by his beast’s sudden rage, he went into

the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets to find something for dinner. He settled on making elbow

macaroni with Italian dressing. He grabbed cans of diced tomatoes, black olives, and mushrooms. He’d

usually fry up some boneless chicken breasts and add to it, but the general store only carried

nonperishables.

After putting a pot of water on the stove to boil, he went to the table and opened the briefcase with the

case files, grabbing the map inside.

He spread it out on the table. With a black marker, he circled the cabin where Charlie’s scent had been

found. Then he marked out the area to the southwest, and circled the area to the northwest. He shaded in

the areas they’d already searched.

There was still a ton of mountain left.

He peered at the map. The nearest city was about twenty miles away. But in the sparsely populated areas

all around it were many backwoods hidey-holes. Nothing could be overlooked.

The bedroom door opened. Every instinct in him wanted to snap his head up and watch Val emerge, but

he refused, keeping his focus firmly locked on the map.

“Find anything interesting?” she asked.

“Not really.” He used the marker to pinpoint an area. “Charlie’s scent was still strong when I turned

around. I was here.” He picked up a fine-point pen and drew a line from the area of the abandoned cabin to

where he’d stopped hiking. It was a perfect line toward the northwest. “Tomorrow, we’ll pick up where I

stopped.” He tapped the pen against the area even farther up. “I have a feeling they have him somewhere in

this region. No roads and all deep woods. They’re shifters so they’ll be able to sense our approach once we

get within striking distance of them.”

“Yeah,” she agreed with a frown.

“They know you are on the case. If they’re smart, and I have a feeling they are, they’ll be scouting

around seeing how close we’re getting to their hideout. Right now the only thing we have in our favor is the

element of surprise—the fact that the council lifted my sentence. Once they get wind I’m involved, things

could get more difficult.”

“Do you think they have anyone with a heightened sense of smell?”

Not liking the way his body tingled at the sound of her voice, he shrugged. “Our ability is rare. I highly

doubt they can tell it’s my scent specifically they’re sniffing, and not just a shifter. Still, that doesn’t mean

they aren’t keeping an eye on me. Just because I haven’t caught wind of a shifter watching me yet, doesn’t

mean it hasn’t happened. We’re sticking to one trail. There are trees and all kinds of cliffs. Eyes could be

anywhere.”

When she pulled a chair across from him, he stiffened. This time it wasn’t from nausea or the urge to

retreat, but from a desire to reach across the table and take her hand—to touch her. He kept his attention

firmly on the map and his fists clenched around the markers.

She dragged a pile of papers on the table toward her, then placed Charlie’s photo in the corner and the

evidence bag with the blanket beside it. “Okay. We know this has to do with Samantha Mills,” she mused,

touching the photo.

He nodded, but remained silent.

“The one group that was the most verbal about her conviction was MASK,” she continued. “Mutants

Are Still Kids.”

He pulled back a chair and sat down, grabbing a notebook and pen to take notes, needing to keep his

focus on anything but her. “I guess that makes sense.”

“They’ve always been vocal about their outrage at how the High Council treats the parents of mutated

children. After Samantha Mills, their ranks really swelled. A lot of parents looked at their own child and

had those ‘what ifs’ start to whirl around their heads.”

“Do you think MASK is involved in this?”

Val pursed her lips. “It seems a little too obvious, don’t you think? That’s the only thing that makes me

hesitate about focusing on them. They have always been very peaceful. This doesn’t feel like their style.”

“Is it possible they saw that peaceful means weren’t working and decided to amp up their efforts?” he

asked.

She waggled her head. “It’s always possible. But it still feels far-fetched. These parents just want their

kids back. They are trying their best to get the laws changed from within the system, and without resorting

to threats. I can’t see them using explosives to break into a council’s quarantine compound and exploiting

the condition of one of the member’s children to get what they want. It’s not what MASK is about.”

He liked the way Val’s mind worked, sorting through every possible scenario and eliminating those that

didn’t fit. “Then who?” he asked.

“I’m worried we’re dealing with a new underground group we’re unaware of.”

He nodded. Exactly what he’d thought. “Could Samantha’s family be involved?”

He shot a quick glance at her. The haphazard way she’d tossed her hair up in a ponytail sent a jolt of

lust rocketing through him. Shocked at his out-of-the-blue reaction, he jerked his attention back to the

paper and gulped. “What about”—he cleared his throat, mortified by the husky timbre to his words—“what

about Samantha’s sister, the one who called the High Council and reported the child?”

Thank the
Dea
, this time his voice sounded normal.

“Riley Specter? I could see her spearheading something like this out of guilt. She had no idea what

would happen when she turned her sister and the baby over to the council. After Samantha was sentenced,

she flipped out in court. Spent a day in lockup.”

“What made Samantha confide in her sister in the first place?” he asked, relieved that Val hadn’t seemed

to pick up on the rising heat coming from his side of the table—the heat she was unknowingly causing him

to feel. Fuck.

“After Samantha’s mate died, she had no source of income and no moral support. She needed help on

every level. She went to the one person she believed she could trust. Her sister. Samantha went to work,

and Riley kept the boy.”

“And he got away from her, right?”

“Yep, his uncontrolled beast had a human couple cornered against a tree when she found him. As a

result though, Riley understood how dangerous the mutation is and called the High Council.” Val shook her

head sadly. “She assumed the baby would be taken—that was the whole point—but she didn’t realize her

sister would get into so much trouble.”

Sounded like a prime candidate to him.

Thankful for something to occupy his thoughts, he grabbed his phone, dialed a number, and waited for

the familiar gruff greeting. “Elder Harwood, we need to know the whereabouts of Riley Specter over the

last week.”

“I see we are on the same wavelength,” the elder said with satisfaction. “We’ve been working to locate

some of Samantha Mills’s closest family members. Riley was the first one we thought about, too. She’s

back at home in Idaho. We’re having the local SPAC watch her. She’s doing her everyday routine.”

“Nothing suspicious then?”

“We can’t rule out that she’s involved, but we can say with certainty that she is not currently in the

mountains of North Carolina.”

Okay, there went that lead.

“Good to know,” he said. “Meanwhile, we’ve pinpointed a few scents. Is it possible for you to get

samples from the rest of her family? A process of elimination will help us go through our suspect list

quicker.” He pulled the list in question forward. “Samantha’s mate had a sister and a brother, Meagan and

Ben. Have you tracked them down?”

“We’re working on it. They’ve been harder to locate. The brother travels a lot. And since we’re trying to

keep the kidnapping quiet, we can’t go around asking about them or it will make their shifter friends

suspicious.”

“Can you get scent samples for me, from their homes, maybe?”

“Yes. I’ll have them delivered as soon as we get them.”

“Great.” He scanned the list and frowned. “Wait. I don’t see anyone else on here from her family.”

“That’s because there isn’t anyone else. Her father died when she was young. Mom died about a year

and half ago. Her mate’s parents are both deceased. All that is left is Riley, Ben, and Meagan.”

“No aunts…uncles?”

“The lineage isn’t dying out, if that is what you’re asking. We have no interest in anyone but the three

on that list.”

Frowning, he scratched the side of his cheek. “Ah. The others support the laws.”

“I wouldn’t call it support. They consider mutated children an abomination. They do not acknowledge

Charlie or Samantha as part of their family.”

Sad. “Okay. We’ll keep a lookout for the samples you’ll be sending.”

Britton hung up and relayed the info to Val, careful not to look directly at her.

“I don’t know, Britton. This doesn’t seem to fit, either. Meagan has a two-year-old child. Would she

risk losing her child just to help her sister-in-law? She’d have to be aware that the High Council would

never let violence and extortion like this go unpunished. Being caught would come with a hefty prison

sentence, and she’d miss out on her child growing up.”

Britton scrubbed his face with his hands. “Everything is speculation right now, and we won’t have any

answers until we get the scent samples and can match them, or actually find the perps. Even if the council

can collect the samples tonight, the soonest we’d get our hands on them is tomorrow evening. All we’re

doing now is talking in circles. It’s frustrating.”

The sound of a pot boiling over had Val jumping to her feet and rushing to the stove. “Water’s ready.”

Once she was at a safe distance, Britton finally lifted his head and openly watched her tear open the box

of macaroni and pour it into the pot. She’d changed into a pair of cotton pajamas with sock monkeys on

them. He’d never found oversize sleepwear sexy before, but on Val…well, she pulled it off. It softened her

normally hard exterior, showed a side of her that was playful and innocent, which, considering what they

saw on a day-to-day basis as detectives, was a feat.

He pushed back his chair and joined her, telling himself he couldn’t very well sit around and let her do

all the work. It had nothing to do with his sudden, odd need to be near her.

He opened the three cans of veggies, drained the water out of the olives and mushrooms, and set them

next to the stove. “Sorry there wasn’t any chicken at the store.” He didn’t know why he wanted Val’s

approval over the meal, but for some reason it meant a lot.

“No skin off my nose. I love carbs. I would’ve been fine with just the macaroni and a drizzle of olive

oil. You’re fancying it up with the veggies.” She sent him a smile while she stirred the water, and his gut

clenched.

Unable to stop himself, he reached over and tugged on the lapel of her pajamas. “I like these.”

She shot him a glance, then looked down incredulously. “You like sock monkeys?”

“I like them on you.”

She studied them, then him, her brows pulled together. “Uh. Thank you?”

Man, she sounded as confused as he felt. It wasn’t often a woman made him feel as if he’d grown two

heads after giving her a compliment. Not that he could blame her.
He
felt as if he’d grown two heads. One

that ogled Val at every turn, and the other that knew this was Val-fucking-Calhoun, his arch nemesis.

He suddenly found the can of tomatoes fascinating. “Uh. How much longer on the macaroni? I’m

starving.”

“Few minutes. Can you grab the strainer and put it in the sink?”

“Sure.”

He reached for it and froze. Holy shit. They were playing house right now.

And the really baffling part? It felt right. He and Val in a kitchen together, sharing duties. He’d
never
felt

that way before, and he’d been with a lot of woman, co-cooking breakfast before he sent them on their

way.

As he retrieved the strainer, he glanced over his shoulder at her. She was stirring the pasta, her attention

completely on the task, the sock monkeys gently caressing her ass as she moved. His gut clenched again.