“Did you fix his office?” I blurted the question—which was none of my business—before I could stop myself.
“Of course I did. He might not want anything to do with the Pack, but I’ve kept tabs on him since the day he left.” He paused for a moment, considering me. “I can see you’re interested in knowing more and I wish I had the time to fill in the blanks, but unfortunately, time is the one thing I’m running out of at the moment.” He pulled out a white envelope from his back pocket and held it in front of me. “Can you pass this on? It’s very important that he gets it and reads the contents ASAP.”
“It sounds like you should give it to him yourself.” I opened the door wider. “He’s in a meeting at the moment, but will be coming by later. You’re welcome to wait for him.”
Hugo shook his head.
“I can give him a call and tell him you’re here—”
“No, I think it’s best if I leave this with you. I really have to go.” He sniffed the air between us, pushing the envelope closer. “Please. I know I can trust you. He’s marked you as mate.”
“What?” This was news to me. “He’s marked me, how?”
His eyes flashed to amber and when he spoke, his voice sounded rougher. “Please, take it. Make sure Jason gets it.”
I took the light envelope, wondering what was inside.
“Get away from her, Wolf!”
Hugo’s eyes were still amber and peering into mine as he said, “Stay back, Witch. I mean her no harm.”
I peeked past Hugo’s bulk to find Oren standing at the foot of the stairs leading up to the house. “Oren, what the hell are you doing?”
“Just go,” Oren said, totally ignoring me. He stood with both legs apart, arms hidden behind his back and his eyes flashing pink.
This was my house and no one else got to dictate who could stay or had to leave. “Oren, back off. I told him he’s welcome to come in—”
“You’re too trusting.” His cotton-candy eyes flicked my way for an instant, before returning to Hugo’s back. “Haven’t I taught you anything?”
“You haven’t taught me to be rude, or prejudice, that’s for sure.” His display was getting on my nerves. Wolf or not, I hadn’t sensed anything threatening from this man. “He’s Papan’s father!”
“Yes, he is. A man Jason ran away from and hasn’t had anything to do with in years.” He took a step up. “So what are you doing here now? And why come to Sierra’s doorstep?”
“That’s none of your business.” Hugo still hadn’t turned towards Oren, and instead gave me a meaningful look.
I pressed the envelope against my side, discreetly stepped closer to the hall table and slipped it beneath the mail I hadn’t sorted yet.
“It became my business when you stepped onto this property and roused my protection spell,” Oren said.
That surprised me. Did he fuel all his spells with some sort of alarm? He hadn’t taught me that trick yet. I’d been performing spells and incantations for a while now and was constantly learning new ones because Oren wanted me to know and understand enough to protect myself against danger. I also wanted to learn the fun stuff, but he insisted on concentrating on the contents of my witch’s toolbox.
“So the magic is yours, is it?” Hugo finally shifted his stance, half turning to peer at Oren. Hugo’s broad shoulders were tense, pose defensive. “I’ve got a blazing headache because of it.”
“Yet you still trespassed.”
“Oren, will you quit it?” What was he playing at? It was one thing to be protective, but what he was doing was annoying.
“If Jason doesn’t want anything to do with your pack, why would Sierra?”
“You don’t know anything about packs, so don’t pretend to. Every member has the right to call themselves a lone wolf, but never stop belonging.” He flashed me a genuine smile and said, “Thank you for your time. I appreciate your kindness and hospitality. My son has chosen a worthy mate in you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. I didn’t know what else to say and instead watched as Hugo turned around, walked past Oren and down the path. I didn’t look away until he hit the street and disappeared behind my neighbor’s shrubs. He was Papan’s father, and there were so many things I’d wanted to ask him. All I’d taken from our first meeting was an enigmatic envelope. “Oren, did you have to be so rude?”
“You should never get caught up in pack politics—it’ll kill you. Wolves don’t like outsiders getting involved in their business so I have no idea what he really wants with you.” Oren’s eyes were back to cool blue, but he still looked pissed. “Make sure you never forget that.”
I glared at him. “If you’d bothered to ask, you’d know he was looking for Papan.”
Oren stepped up in front of me. “You’ve got to stop being so trusting.”
I snorted. “And you need to stop being so cynical. I’m not stupid, my instincts work a lot better than they used to, and Hugo Papan didn’t mean me any harm. He just wanted to reconnect with his son.” Contrary to his accusation, I’d been standoffish and critical with people for so long I’d almost forgotten what it was like to meet anyone new without trying to determine how badly they wanted to steal my power or kill me. I kept a tight circle of friends and family, and whenever a new customer approached, I suspected them almost instantly. So the fact Hugo had made me feel at ease had to mean something.
Now, I just wanted to know what was inside the envelope.
“I hope you’re right, Sierra, because there’s one thing you failed to consider.”
“What’s that?”
“How does he know you and Jason are involved?” Oren stepped past me and into the house, heading straight for the kitchen with his white ponytail swaying across his back.
He had a point. I hadn’t bothered to ask or even wonder how he knew I was seeing his son, but Papan and I didn’t keep our friendship or relationship a secret. Besides, hadn’t Hugo mentioned keeping tabs on his son? Oren had a knack for feeding me food for thought.
I was about to close the door when a familiar voice called, “Hey wait up!”
“Hey, Gareth, what are you doing here?” I stopped the momentum before shutting the door in my visitor’s face. I held it steady and peered over his shoulder to find the familiar patrol car parked on the street. I hadn’t even noticed him drive up. “Come in.”
Gareth smiled, his perfectly straight teeth glowing in the dim light of the hallway. “I was in the neighborhood so I thought I’d stop by.” He stepped inside, squeezing my hand and practically crowding my personal space.
I took a step back, my other hand still on the door handle.
Gareth Crewe was a police constable I’d met earlier this year. He was one of the first officers to arrive after Oren reported a grisly murder in my office block. After that, he’d helped me with Willow and I helped him figure out if certain crimes were supernatural or not. He’d gotten caught up in my crazy world of spooks, demons, vampires and rituals. I felt bad about getting him involved in all this craziness but he didn’t seem to mind. We’d actually become pretty good friends in a short amount of time. Papan constantly teased me about Gareth having ulterior motives for sticking around, but I suspected he was drawn to me and my world, and I sensed there was something more to him as well.
The Lamia who’d used us in a ritual to strip all of my powers had mentioned there was magic inside Gareth, but I was too chicken to broach the subject.
He was looking at me when I turned back to him after closing the door.
“So, what brings you to my neighborhood, anyway?” This had become our private joke after I’d helped him with a few other cases. “What do you need my help with now?”
“This isn’t one for you. Just answered a call about a runaway nearby,” he said.
“A runaway, huh?” I felt a chill sweep through me, because my sister had been a runaway when I met her.
“This kid’s got a habit of running off when he doesn’t agree with his parents.” Gareth shrugged. “I guess some kids just don’t know how to deal with things.”
He was still wearing his uniform, minus the utility vest, so I assumed he was making a quick stop and was still on duty.
“Sounds like you’ve got a full house,” he said with a laugh.
“You know how it is around here.” The murmur of chatter from the kitchen forced me to take a step towards it. I motioned for him to follow but he caught my hand. I paused, feeling a wave of comfort sweep over me. Gareth was very touchy-feely, but I didn’t like the ease with which he reached for me. It also troubled me that I wasn’t more bothered by this. “What’s up?”
“I just…” His voice trailed off and he shuffled closer.
I looked into his hazel eyes trying to read what was going on with him, but just couldn’t. I sighed, looking away. “Gareth, you’ve got to stop doing this.”
“Stop doing what?” He was too close.
I didn’t dare move, kept my gaze on the wall. My heart sped up and my stomach dropped because lately I’d started to feel like he wanted to kiss me whenever we had a rare moment alone. I really liked him, but there was nothing romantic about my feelings.
“Gareth, don’t.”
“I’m sorry.” His thumb rubbed circles over the back of my hand so I yanked it from his grasp. “Touching you just feels right.”
“No, it’s not right. It’s wrong.”
“It’s wrong for two friends to find comfort in a physical connection?”
I sighed again, facing him. “Don’t play dumb. You might think this is a game, but we’re just friends and no amount of testing on your part is going to change that.”
“Sierra, don’t walk away.” He leaned closer, smelling my hair. “I just like to be near you. It’s nothing to be scared about. You make me feel really good. Don’t I have a calming effect on you too?”
I swallowed quickly because that was exactly how he’d made me feel since the moment we met, but it didn’t mean we would become more than friends. I was with Papan and nothing was going to ruin that.
“I’m with—”
“I know who you’re with. I’m not asking you to marry me, just tell me you can feel the connection as strongly as I can.” His hazel eyes darkened. “Remember the night I held you?”
He was warping everything. The night he referred to happened during one of my most confusing moments. After encountering the traumatized ghost of a murdered girl and spotting her killer, I’d almost stepped into traffic—twice—and he’d been there to make sure I wasn’t run over.
“Are you talking about the night I told you to back off?”
A small grin curved his lips. “You’re stubborn, but you can’t deny me forever.”
“Actually, I can.” The sudden hurt in his eyes made me backtrack. “Look, I care about you. You’re my friend—
that’s
our connection.” And I was starting to wonder why the hell I kept offering him the hand of friendship when he’d just confirmed he wanted more. “It has to be enough because I don’t have more to offer.”
He backed away, breaking eye contact. “I respect that and wouldn’t do anything to ruin our friendship, but I can’t help the way I feel.”
“And how is that?” I dared him to tell me the truth. To stop pretending he wanted the same thing I did.
Gareth took another step back and ran a hand through his thick, curly hair.
“Well? Because if you can’t give me a straight answer maybe you should stop coming over.”
“That’s not going to happen. I can’t be away from you for long.”
“Gareth—”
“I won’t lie, there’s been something drawing me to you since the day we met and it gets stronger every time we see each other”—he raised a hand to stop me from interrupting—“but I know where we stand, and you’re too important to me. I won’t screw up our friendship.”
I opened my mouth to answer but the home phone started shrilling behind me. It was just the distraction I needed, so I turned away from Gareth and our uncomfortable conversation.
“Hello?” I said into the handset. When was the last time someone called on the landline?
Silence greeted me on the other end.
“Hello?” I repeated.
The sound of someone clearing their throat was shortly followed by, “Good afternoon, is this Sierra Fox?”
“That’s me.”
“Oh, good, I’m glad I finally caught you. I’ve been trying to contact you all day.”
“Ah, okay.” Who the hell was this? “Who am I speaking to?”
“This is Henry Sallas from the Spook Catcher Council.”
My stomach dropped. I knew exactly who this was—one of the four councilors from the place I despised the most. The Council had been the bane of my existence for years but I’d paid my monetary debt and was in the process of severing all professional ties with them. So what the hell did this creep want?
“Miss Fox, are you still there?”
It was my turn to clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m here. What do you want?”
My rudeness didn’t seem to put him off. “I’m not surprised by your brashness after what you’ve been through, but I really need to speak with you.”
“I’ve got nothing to say.”
“I appreciate your anger after everything that’s happened—”
“Listen here, Mr. Sallas, I don’t know what you’re playing at or even why you bothered to call, but I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“I need your help,” he said.