The Awakening: Britton (Entangled Covet) (14 page)

Before last night he hadn’t been sure Val even saw him as a man, but twice the scent of her arousal had

spiced the air—because of him. He’d been stunned when the musky tinge had first hit his nose, and he’d

instantly gone rock-hard. Thankfully, she had ducked behind the counter and given him a chance to leave

the room to save them both the awkwardness. Then the alluring aroma had teased him again while they’d

played pool. Both times she seemed as horrified by her body’s response to him as he was with the war of

desire waging within his own.

A desire that had wanted to yank her upturned ass right back onto his hardening cock as she’d lined up

her shot and rub against her lush bottom until the room was filled to bursting with the mouth-watering

fragrance of her arousal. And his knee-jerk reaction to that alarming urge had been just as pathetic as hers,

except he’d done his hiding under the fucking covers.

After his hasty departure, she’d silently gotten ready for bed, then locked herself in her room. Yes,

locked. As though she didn’t trust him.

Hell, who could blame her? He didn’t trust himself.

He’d spent the night tossing and turning on the couch, involuntarily sifting through the noises of the

night until he realized she was also moving around in her bed, as restless as he was. At least that was a

bonus. Knowing she was just as unsettled by this unexpected development made him feel better. That this

attraction was unwanted on both their parts.

Now if they could just continue to pretend it wasn’t there, until this fucking case was solved.

Which didn’t seem would be anytime soon. They’d been hiking for almost four hours and the scents of

Charlie and his kidnappers hadn’t wavered, just kept taking them deeper and deeper on an endless trek

through the woods.

A disgusted groan came from Val. “I can’t believe we’ve got to go back to the cabin. Being this far out

already, we can’t keep backtracking. We’ve got to start camping so we don’t lose our forward progress.” He

agreed with her, but he wasn’t happy about it. He was having a hard enough time keeping his hands off her

in the cabin. Zip them into a small tent—squished together—and he wasn’t sure what would happen.

No. He was pretty sure he knew what
would
happen.

But Harwood had saved him from worrying about that for another night. Right before they’d ventured

out this morning, the elder had called, informing him that the samples would be delivered to the cabin this

afternoon. He wanted a positive identification tonight.

“We do what we’re told, Val, at least when we’re dealing with SPAC cases. If the elder wants us to

return to the cabin to sniff a couple pieces of fabric, then we return to the cabin and sniff the damn fabric.

Not doing so is just asking for trouble. Human cases are so much easier, aren’t they?”

A soft, amused chuckle sounded behind him, doing funny things inside his chest. “Right? Human cases

are like a vacation compared to shifter ones. The council can be such a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, falling silent, in fear of making her laugh and having his body react again.

Thirty minutes later, her laughter was the least of his problems. Her winded breathing behind him was

driving him mad, taunting him with mental images of her that’d put a triple-X porn to shame.
Dea,
he

needed a distraction now or he risked trying to make her winded for a completely different reason than

hiking.

“What do you do in your spare time?” he blurted out, desperate for a distraction.

“You mean when I’m not juggling being head of SPAC with working as a homicide detective for Carnal

Ridge PD? Come on, Britton, you’ve had my job. You know there isn’t a lot of time for fun.”

“I always found time for fun, Val,” he said without thinking.

“Yeah, and your reputation speaks for itself,” she muttered.

There was a real edge to her voice. He glanced over at her. Yep, her jaw was clenched. Did it bother her

that he had a reputation? And why did he like the possibility that it did?

“We have a very stressful job,” he said. “You do occasionally have to let your hair down some, you

know?”

“I do.”

“Really? That’s not what I hear. Word around the PD is you’re all work and no play.”

“Oh, I play. Just not with anyone at the PD.”

It was his turn to clench his jaw as violent jealousy burned through his chest. “With who?” was out

before he could stop it.

“I’m not one to kiss and tell.”

Even though she didn’t outright say it, he got her meaning.
He
was one to kiss and tell.

“What do you do when you’re playing?” he pushed, perversely. Why in the fucking hell had he asked

that?

“A little too interested in my sex life, huh, Britton?”

He fisted his hands. “Just heard the gossip is all. ‘Prude’ and ‘cold’ seem to be synonyms for Val

Calhoun.”

“Yeah, I know.” He could hear the shrug in her voice. “I just have zero interest in playing where I work.

Besides, there’s no one who interests me at work.”

Wrong.

He spun around so quickly she only had time to gasp before he had her trapped against a tree. The feel

of his body pressing into hers almost made him groan aloud. Her instant arousal attacked his nostrils. She

liked this. She liked
him
. His beast shifted inside, sending a spike of lust through him. Seemed his beast

liked this, too. And her. “Having some playtime at work can be fun, Val. You should try it.”

Her lips pursed downward. “You would know.”

His attention dropped to her mouth. As her tongue sneaked out to wet her bottom lip, his breathing

kicked up.
Kiss her.
“What do you say? Want to have a little fun with me?”

The words were out before he could take them back, but they were enough to shock him out of his

actions. What had gotten into him? He was supposed to be
fighting
this, not spurring it on.

He stepped back and raked a hand through his hair. “Jeez, I’m sorry, Val. That was horribly

inappropriate.”

“Since when have you ever cared about being inappropriate?” She trudged a little ways ahead of him.

“Don’t worry about it. It didn’t happen.”

Unfortunately those words did nothing to erase what
had
happened, no matter how much he wished

they did. As she walked away, a tightening suddenly gripped his torso and he massaged his chest with his

palm.

The sensation eased, but left him befuddled as he tried to remember if he’d had that feeling before the

council’s injection. No, he’d definitely never felt this suffocation, as though someone was squeezing his

heart and lungs in his chest. He didn’t like it, and it increased his worry that the serum had somehow fucked

him up inside.

Making a shifter’s DNA go dormant with some synthetic liquid had to have some kind of bad

consequence or side effect. When his buddy Liam had been disconnected from his beast, he’d said he could

still feel it physically, but not its emotions…and he couldn’t shift.

Now Britton was having all these odd symptoms, and he still couldn’t shift, either. Was it possible the

serum wouldn’t reconnect him to his beast, but only bring his abilities back just enough to use them?

Too many questions. But one thing he knew…he didn’t like the feeling of suffocation. At all.

…

Inappropriate.

At the absurdity of that word coming out of Britton’s mouth, Val wanted to laugh. Had she been a

different woman, there would’ve been a lot more going on against that tree than an amazing amount of

sexual tension.

Hell, even she would admit that if he’d been a different man, she would’ve said screw it to her “no play

at work” rule and been all in. The kind of chemistry sparking between them promised one hell of a good

time. As much as people might believe her a prude at work, she wasn’t. She enjoyed having a man’s hands

on her body and loved the escape that sex brought her—with anyone but Britton.

So, she would agree this…whatever it was…was inappropriate. Not
what
they were feeling or saying,

but
who
they were feeling and saying it with. She and Britton had a rocky past, filled with a lot of nastiness

and animosity. Yeah, she’d always found him attractive, but not like this. This was…weird. Overwhelming.

And apparently it was for him, too. They just needed to keep their distance from each other.

“Val. Wait up.” The words were hushed as his hand clamped onto her wrist and he put a finger to his

lips.

Instantly she went on alert. She glanced around. “What is it?” she whispered.

“Three of the original scents just came back.”

She sniffed the air. Like yesterday, they were undetectable to her. But she didn’t question Britton. He’d

already proven himself to her.

“What scents are you getting?” she asked. “All I smell is the shifter musk and propane.”

“They met here. After they branched off at the first cabin and you didn’t follow their trail, the first

group must have circled around to rejoin the others.” He walked a few feet ahead. “The entire group is

together now and they headed off this way.”

That she could pick up. The musk was heavier to the extreme left, indicating that a group of shifters had

gone in that direction.

Pulling his gun from the holster, he took off ahead of her, keeping crouched down. She followed his

lead. They crept forward for a few minutes, then Britton turned around. “There’s another cabin up ahead.”

He sucked in air through his nose and straightened. “No one’s here.”

How in the hell could he tell that? The level of musk had stayed even for her. “Are you sure?”

He sent her that cocky smile she was somewhat perturbed to realize she was starting to like. “Yep.”

He walked into the clearing, holstering his gun. No way in hell was she putting away hers. As she eased

hesitantly out from the cover of the trees, she gripped her weapon in her hands.

“You can put that up. It’s clear.”

“Forgive me for being cautious, okay?”

Chuckling, he ran up the stairs to the small front porch.

This was what Harwood had been talking about. Britton would never have been fooled by a blanket.

She begrudgingly holstered her gun.

He opened the cabin door. “Ladies first.” He swept his arm out and she stepped inside.

It was pretty much the same setup as the other cabin; this one was just older and a lot dustier. Another

letter sat on top of the table.

Val picked it up and read the greeting.

Fuck you, Detective Townsend.

She whipped around to look at Britton, who was reading the letter over her shoulder. “They know

about you.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

Ignoring his retort, she returned her attention to the letter.

So you get clemency to come up here in the mountains to hunt us down, but a mother gets life in

prison for protecting her child? How unfair is that? Tell good ol’ Harwood this decision has now cost him

twenty-four hours. The council has until 4:00 p.m. Saturday to give us what we want. We also want you
off

the case or we will make this so bad there won’t be a shifter alive who will be able to sleep without one eye

open. Enjoy the present we left for you. You need some reminding on what is at stake.

Val lowered the paper, noting the Polaroid pictures on the table. Four of them. One of the child sitting

cross-legged on the ground, his cherubic face turned toward the lens, brown eyes wide and innocent but

with a hint of sadness. The next the yellow glow of his beast had taken over the irises, giving the child a

serious
Children of the Corn
vibe. The third caught the boy in mid-transformation, with the skin stretching

over his elongating jaw. The fourth was his beast, a wolf, blood coating the fur around his muzzle.

“Shit,” Britton muttered, then spun away and paced the length of the room, his strides jerky and

agitated.

“We knew they were going to be pissed when they learned about you.”

“Then why only cut off twenty-four hours? How about growing some goddamn balls and putting a real

deadline on the council? If you’re going to fucking threaten them, fucking threaten them. Don’t be all

pansy-assed about it.” He hit the wall with his fist. “You know what,
fuck them
and their lousy negotiating.”

Watching his helpless rage made Val’s heart ache for him. To have a mother’s punishment tossed in his

face when he’d had no say in his clemency must feel like a kick in the teeth. Val laid a hand on his biceps.

He stilled, but continued staring straight ahead.

“Hey, they don’t know your clemency is temporary. They also don’t know you weren’t given a choice

in the matter. They don’t know that you have to work each day knowing that as soon as this case is over

your beast will be taken away again. If they did, the tune of that letter would have been just as outraged on

your behalf as it was for Samantha Mills. Who knows, Britton, if you solve this case and save all of us, the