Part 5 (1/2)

I don't know what I expected. Maybe a lot of stuffed s.h.i.+rts with double chins sitting around a ma.s.sive table. Wrong.

There were only two people in the room. One a stunning blond with mile-long legs lounging in a chair on my side of a ma.s.sive desk, and Bran, glaring from the other side.

I was used to Bran's thunder frowns. He tended to use them a lot around me, but I wasn't used to facing women who belonged on magazine covers or in the Miss Universe contest. A new dress model for Bran's tours? Or someone else?

Refusing to feel the quick stab of jealousy that last thought created, I notched my chin up, steeled my voice and looked only at Bran. ”We need to talk.”

Bran opened his mouth as if to say something then thought better of it as he ran one hand through his devil-dark hair and shook his head. ”Miss Worthington,” he said, smiling at the s.e.xpot in the chair with a look he used to give me. ”May I introduce Miss Alex Noziak.”

”Bonjour,” the other woman purred as if I could be appeased by a come-hither French accent.

Okay, maybe Bran's but that was different. And in the past.

I inclined my head toward the other woman, not trusting my voice. Not yet at least.

”Miss Worthington and I are in a meeting,” Bran spoke between clenched teeth.

I gave him a stink-eye look. ”So I was told.”

”And your discussion couldn't wait?”

”No.”

I swore he rolled his eyes before turning back to Miss Bonjour. ”Would you mind waiting for me in the other office, Miss Worthington? I'm sure this will only take a moment.”

Think again big guy, I wanted to say, but two could play the we're-all-civilized-people-here game even if we weren't. He couldn't be civilized. He was a warlock for cripe's sake. He might wear the veneer but that was all. Scratch the surface and his warlock tendencies tended to erupt.

I offered the s.e.x kitten an aren't-you-sweet smile as the other woman brushed past me in a cloud of perfume that no doubt cost a thousand dollars an ounce, and felt my ring heat up indicating the Worthington woman was non-human.

Interesting. I wondered if Bran knew then ditched the thought. Of course he did. It was only one of the traits that p.i.s.sed me off about him. I might identify Weres, warlocks and vamps pretty easily but was still getting used to all the other preternaturals roaming around. Mostly because before joining the IR Agency I didn't have a lot of exposure to non-humans. More than my teammates, but less than Bran, far less.

The plus side to my naivete was that I was more wary around what I didn't know whereas Bran a.s.sumed he was the bigger, badder threat. Most times he was, but not always. The one session with his cousin who turned out to be a nasty, and rare, Grimple, didn't seem to have taught him otherwise.

Arrogant or not, I still needed him, so I waited until the door clicked shut before crossing to the middle of the room and taking the vacated seat. ”Your latest bimbo?” I asked Bran as I settled into the plush cus.h.i.+ons, hoping the lingering perfume wouldn't gag me.

Bran continued to stand, hands flattened against his desk, his knuckles white, the pulse point along his temple beating hard. ”Is that what you came to discuss, Alex?”

d.a.m.n. Just the way he said my name made my skin heat and my pulse kick into high gear. Which explained why my voice was a little tighter than I intended as I snapped, ”Of course not. I expected no less of you.”

He smiled, a real smile that crinkled the edges of those dark blue eyes and made him less arrogant warlock and more approachable lover.

He so didn't play fair.

”So you have thought of me with other women already, Alex? You betray yourself.”

”Don't be an idiot.” I wanted to jump to my feet to dispel some of the tension rocketing through me but that would put a lie to my next words. ”I have more important things to focus on than you and your conquests.”

He eased into his seat, his smile now mocking me. Warlocks learned arrogance in the cradle and Bran was no exception. d.a.m.n his hide, and his patience as he steepled his fingers before him, tapping his forefinger against his lips, waiting for me to speak first.

As if I'd give him the satisfaction. On the other hand I could only stare at his fingers tapping against that s.e.xy lower lip of his, again and again, and not turn into a needy puddle begging to taste him.

Good thing Noziaks never surrendered.

Instead I cleared my throat, leaned back in my chair as if I had all day and glanced at the windows before finding enough spine to meet Bran's too-penetrating gaze. Only then did I demand, ”How did you know Vaverek was ambus.h.i.+ng us this morning? And why didn't you tell us sooner?”

”The option was always a possibility. It's what I might have done myself. So I came to see for myself and informed you as soon as I was aware of the preternaturals surrounding you.”

Believe him? Or not? Oh, the part about him being underhanded and devious was a given. It was the I-was-there-to-help-you part I had a hard time swallowing. Threatening to kill me last time we crossed paths tended to make me a bit more wary than usual.

”And now?” I pushed.

”Now?”

”Now I want to know everything you know about Vaverek.” I didn't mean to growl but it sure sounded that way as I gave up my pretense of calmness and jumped to my feet. I hated this strain between the two of us. Not that ours had ever been an easy relations.h.i.+p but now it felt like ice rain pelting me.

”There's something more at play here with Vaverek, but I don't have all the details yet.”

”Such as?”

He paused, then continued, ”Have you heard about the family in the 8th arrondiss.e.m.e.nt?”

”What family?” If he was trying to confuse me he was doing a great job.

”Mother, father, two boys and an infant daughter appeared to have been attacked by a wild dog.” He looked at me as if waiting for something.

”And this means what? That Paris needs more dog catchers?”

”Don't be flippant.” He jammed his hands in his pockets. ”They all died.”

I unfurled my hands that I hadn't realized I'd clenched. ”I don't know what you're trying to tell me.”

”Think, Alex,” he almost growled the words. ”What's the likelihood of a whole family being savaged by a dog?”

I paused, chewing over what he said. ”Are you talking about a Were?”

”Or s.h.i.+fter. . .”

That had my back snapping straight. ”Are you saying my brother Van?”

”No.” Before I could inhale a breath, he pushed ahead. ”My contacts indicate a s.h.i.+fter was used to attack the family, but he then killed himself, his human body being found a few blocks away. Only those who knew him connected his suicide back to the killing of the family.”

”What does this have to do with Van?”

”It has to do with Vaverek. It looks like he's testing his drugs on preternaturals.”

I swore I could hear the toll of death knells. If Van was held by Vaverek, how soon would it be before he was forced to do something that he could never recover from?