Motor City Wolf (11 page)

“Someone’s shooting at me,” Fianna whispered. “Through the windows. Stay where you are.” The aged hotel next door was vacant now, except for a used bookstore on the first floor, and it was one story taller than the New Moon. All those empty room gave a killer plenty of vantage points to choose from.

“What?” The music went silent. “I don’t think I heard you right. Did you say someone was
shooting
at you?”

“Yes. Should I call the police, or would that be bad?” Sometimes the regular police could be more hindrance than help when paranormal issues were involved.

“You stay on the line so I know you’re all right. I’m using my computer to call Greg.”

Fianna hadn’t thought of that. She hadn’t fully mastered the digital technology of the modern environment in the months she’d worked for Aidan.

“Greg, this is Lana. Someone’s shooting into Fee’s apartment from the hotel.”

“What? Is she okay?” Fianna heard Greg’s voice over the connection.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “I called to warn Lana not to come in here.”

Lana relayed the information to Greg, adding, “Greg, it’s got to be Beowulf.”

“Thank God.” The relief in Greg’s tone touched her heart. “We’ll be there in five minutes. Where is she in the apartment?”

Again, Fee answered and Lana repeated her reply. “Bedroom closet on the floor. They shot through the curtains and the window, so they’ve got some kind of high-tech equipment.”

“When was the last shot?”

“Two minutes, maybe three.”

“Tell her to stay put, as low to the ground as possible.”

“She can hear you,” Lana said. “She says fine. You want me to call the cops or not?”

“Shit.” Fianna could picture him running his hands through his hair. “Yeah. Somebody might have heard the shots and called it in. Might as well be us. And Lana? You get your ass to an interior space and stay the hell down, too.”

“Already done, though there’s no place on my side of the building to snipe from.” Greg’s building was a corner one, and across the side street was a single-story drugstore. “I’m on the floor of my hallway.”

“Okay, we’re about a mile out. See you in three minutes.”

“Fine. I’m hanging up now so I can call the cops.” Lana clicked some keys. “Fee, I’ll call you right back.”

“No, I should do it, since it’s my apartment.” She clicked the end button, took a deep breath and dialed 9-1-1. The operator assured her that officers were already en route, having been called by the security team—which they’d all forgotten about.

As she came to that realization, a fist pounded on her door. “Ms. Meadows, are you all right?” She could hear someone else yelling at Lana across the hall.

How was she supposed to let them in without exposing herself? Apparently it didn’t matter. She heard her door open and the sound of a man swearing. “Ms. Meadows?”

Since she recognized the voice as Jensen, she held her thumb on the microphone of the phone and called, “In the bedroom.”

“Our officers have arrived at the scene, ma’am,” said the voice on the phone. “There’s someone on the way up right now.”

“The security people are here, too. Is anyone checking out the abandoned hotel?”

“The officers know their jobs, miss. Don’t worry. I’m going to hang up now that we know you’re safe.”

With that, the operator disconnected. A second later, she heard a voice calling her name in the bedroom and slid open the closet door to face Jensen. “I’m fine.” She didn’t stand up since she had no way of knowing if the shooter was still out there.

“I’m going to walk you to the hallway,” the man said. “I’ll stay between you and the windows.”

“We’ve got an all clear on the building next door,” called someone from the hallway. “The shooter’s gone. Is anybody injured?”

“No.” Fianna let Jensen help her to her feet. “Just frightened.”

“Good.” The guard still kept her close until they reached the hall between Fianna’s apartment and Lana’s.

Lana waited with another guard and a pair of uniformed police officers. When she saw Fianna, she ran across to her and Fianna returned the other woman’s hug with enthusiasm.

One of the police officers, a young woman with ebony skin, a shaved head and deep brown eyes, said, “I’m Officer Benton, and this is my partner, Officer Reilly. Why don’t we all go into the undamaged apartment and sit down?”

The red-headed man barely looked old enough to drive, but he ushered them all into Lana’s apartment and had Lana and the guards sit on the red leather sofa, while he pulled Fianna aside and seated her at the chrome-and-glass dining table, in the far corner of the L-shaped space.

“Can I get you a glass of water, maybe make some coffee?” He held her chair, then one for Officer Benton.

“Water, thanks,” Fianna said.

“Coffee would be great if Ms. Novak has the fixings,” the other officer, clearly the senior, replied.

Reilly went off to speak with Lana, and Benton took out a notebook. First, she confirmed Fianna’s name, address and her supposed date of birth off her identification. When she’d first come to this realm as Aidan’s assistant, she’d been given all the relevant paperwork to prove she was born in Detroit. Fortunately, she’d memorized all the data.

“Now tell me, as simply as you can, exactly what happened tonight.”

How was she going to explain why she’d suddenly leaped off the couch?

“I had a funny feeling that I was being watched,” she said finally. “I got off the couch to go close the drapes and…heard something—I didn’t know what. The bullet slammed into the couch and I dove into the hallway. I crawled to my bedroom for my phone.” She recounted the rest of the story exactly as it happened.

Loud noises erupted from outside the apartment. “I don’t give a shit. That’s my cousin and my fiancée up there.”

Greg’s voice had never sounded so welcome.

“Judging by that rock on your finger, you’re the fiancée,” said Benton with a smile. “Go ahead and let him know you’re okay. I’d like to talk to Ms. Novak now.” She tipped her head toward the apartment door. Loud footsteps approached at a run.

Fianna met Greg at the doorway. “We’re both fine.” Before she finished speaking, he wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to his chest. He did move them both out of the doorway so Des could step in behind him.

“You sure?”

The police and Jensen were in the kitchen talking, but his younger partner watched the exchange with unabashed curiosity. Des stood with his back to the wall and glowered at Lana.

“I think I’d know if I’d been shot.” Nice as it felt to be smashed up against his warmth, she pulled back enough to look up into his face. “No one was hurt—just some damage to the apartment. Lana didn’t even hear the shots over her music, but she’s giving her statement now.”

His growl wasn’t audible but his chest rumbled against her cheek. “Pack a bag. You’re not staying here until we catch this asshole. Neither of you.”

“Where? There’s no place in the world that’s completely safe.” All she wanted was to be wherever he was—preferably curled up in his arms.

“The compound,” Greg said. “It won’t be pleasant, but it’s well guarded and patrolled.”

“With our grandparents?” Lana had left the table and returned to the living room. “You have to be kidding. They tried to pay her a million dollars to dump you.”

“Any other ideas?” Greg turned toward his cousin, keeping Fianna tucked closely against his side. “Aidan has the security team, but he also has a five-year-old. Meagan and Ric? Do we really want to draw them into the crossfire? Even George and Jase have neighbors with small children. The compound is the only place I can think of that’s remotely secure. If Grandfather had decided to have us exiled, we’d already know.”

Fianna cleared her throat, which felt as if someone had stuffed a fist down it. “And if he’s behind the shooting? It’s perfectly clear he wants you to marry Sofia.”

“The timing is awfully coincidental,” Lana added.

“Shit.” Greg let go of Fianna and plopped down on the sofa.

She felt the loss of his warmth almost immediately.

After a tense moment of thought, Greg shook his head. “No. He’s a bully and an asshole, but he’s not a murderer. And he’d rather see me married to someone than to no one at all. I’d leave the state before I mated with Sofia, and the old man has to know that.” He reached out for Fianna’s hand and pulled her down beside him.

“Of course, there’s the small fact that Sofia would rather kill me than look at me,” Fianna pointed out. “If she’s staying at the compound, I’m sure I’d be safer somewhere else. Her father is downright creepy, and Maurice treated me like dirt beneath his feet.” She also didn’t want Greg anywhere near that lupine bitch.

“Look, anything between me and Sofia was a long time ago.” Greg smoothed a hand down Fianna’s hair. “She knows we’re incompatible, but with the end of her modeling career, she’s feeling a little scared about what she’s going to do next. We’re simply old friends, nothing more. I promise.”

“Trust me, Fee, she’s a snotty bitch, but she’s no threat to you at all.” Lana slid into a chair nearby, pointedly ignoring Des. “Shooting someone or making a firebomb is manual labor, after all. She might break a nail.”

“True.” Greg gave her a rueful grin. “The most dangerous thing about Sofia is definitely her ego.”

“That being said.” Lana glared at Greg. “If you can get Grandfather to make a public announcement that Fee is pack and under his protection, I’ll go along with staying out there for a while. He wouldn’t give his word to the pack then go behind their backs and hurt her.”

“Good idea.” He squeezed Fianna’s thigh and stood. “I’ll go call him. We can
all
pack a bag. He probably isn’t out to kill you, but I won’t leave you alone there either.”

Once the police had gone, Greg and Des boarded up Fee’s windows while the women packed a few days’ worth of clothes. He threw some jeans and shirts in a duffle as quickly as he could. He had one more task to accomplish before the trip back to West Bloomfield. Leaving the women with the guards in the basement office, Greg shifted and, along with Des, crept into the now-taped-off hotel next door. The cops hadn’t left anyone, and Des’s magic made short work of locks and tape. Once inside, they followed Greg’s nose.

He recognized the smell—sort of. It was definitely a lupine, with the same bleachy overtones to his or her scent as the one at the fire scene. Greg still couldn’t identify any individual characteristics over that of the…

Son of a bitch!

Since they were in an interior hallway where no one could see through a window, Greg shifted for a moment, not bothering to rise to his feet.

“It’s the drug,” he said. “That same damn one you have in your pocket. Both here and at the fire scene. Both of our assassins—and I do think they were two different wolves, though I can’t be one hundred percent sure—are users. Probably addicts, given how much it overpowers their scent. Either that, or there’s a variation of the chemical, specifically used for scent masking.”

“Well, that might clear your loving grandpa.” Des stared straight ahead, not looking down at Greg’s nude form. “I somehow doubt he’s in the drug trade. Now shift back so we can see where they went.”

Greg did and followed the scent, along with those of the police officers, to a second-story room, deserted but still partly furnished. A broken bed frame leaned against the far wall and a dresser missing several drawers had been tipped on its side. The glass was broken out of the bottom half of the window, and the smell of gunpowder and cordite assaulted Greg’s nose. This was certainly where the assassin had been, but either he’d cleaned up after himself well, or the cops had taken away any spent shells, broken glass or other evidence. With a grunt, Greg shook his head and padded back toward the stairs.

Ivan himself met them at the front door, still dressed in shirt and trousers, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night. “I’ve issued a statement to the pack,” he said as Greg waited on the porch. “You are all officially under my protection.”

Greg tipped his chin in acknowledgement. “Thank you. I assume one of the guest houses is available?”

Ivan stepped back from the door. “No. You’ll stay in the main house. It’s better guarded.”

Sharing a roof with his grandparents was the last thing Greg wanted to do, but Ivan was probably right. Greg nodded to Lana and Fee, who stepped inside. He followed, closing the door behind them.

“Someone will fetch your luggage and take it up to your rooms. Gregory, you’re in your old room, of course. Derek and his family are in the west wing along with Max and Irene, so I’ve put Lana and Miss Meadows in the east.” He managed to sneer almost invisibly on Fianna’s name. “Julian and Helen should be arriving shortly, as should George and his human. I’ve called the entire family since we’ve no idea who the next target may be.”

Greg gave the old man an exhausted nod. “Good.” Not that he had any intention of sleeping anywhere without Fee, but he could go along with the pretense for his grandmother’s sake. For that matter, he could even be polite. “Thank you.” He moved toward the stairs, Lana and Fee on either side of him. “Please tell the others we’ll see them in the morning.”

Olga, the housekeeper, waited at the top of the stairs. “If you’ll follow me, Miss Lana, Miss Meadows.” The lupine woman was about the age Greg’s parents would be, and the closest thing to a mother he’d had after he’d moved to this house as a child. She gave Greg a brief hug, scolding him for getting himself and the others into danger.

He introduced Fee to Olga, walking with them to see which room Fee had been given. Sure enough, it was on the second floor, as far as possible from his third-floor bedroom.

“Mr. Julian and Ms. Helen have the big suite down the hall, and Mr. George and Mr. Jase are next to them.” Olga frowned. “Miss Sofia is upstairs in Mr. George’s old room.”

Greg’s eyes widened. “Sofia is staying here, rather than with her parents? Why?”

The housekeeper shrugged. “Nobody tells me anything. All I know is that she drives the staff crazy, wanting this and that at all hours. At least she’s tidy, but she’s grown up snooty, that’s for sure.”

“I assume Grandfather ordered the room assignments?” Lana winked at Greg and wound her arm around Olga’s ample waist. “But he won’t be the one cleaning our rooms, will he?”

“Of course not.” Olga smiled back. “Whatever you all do once I turn my back is none of my business, is it? It’s a big house and my girls and boys are all grown up. I told Frank to leave your suitcases by your doors. Figured you could unpack for yourselves. And remember, none of the maids talk to the Prime or Mrs. Novak. They report to me.”

“Thank you, Olga.” Greg kissed the woman’s cheek. “Is there extra security working tonight?”

“Your grandfather is smart about that. Two men on watch in each wing, all night. Mind, they’ll report to Peter.”

“Good night.”

After she’d gone, Greg looked at Lana. “How do you want to play it?”

Lana shrugged. “I think consolidating is good. The bedrooms upstairs suck for grown-ups anyway.” Most of the third floor had been designed for children or possibly servants, back in the day when people traveled with a retinue. The rooms were small, and so was the furniture. Then she grinned. “The walls here are pretty soundproof, but try not to get too loud.”

“Mind your own business.” Greg playfully swatted her shoulder. After the day they’d had, a nice big bed to share with Fee sounded perfect, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the guest rooms each had a whirlpool bathtub.

They stopped talking as Frank, Olga’s nephew, carried up the three bags. He set them all down in the hallway, smiled politely when they thanked him and walked away, whistling softly.

“I’ll wait up for Jase and George,” Lana offered. “You two can crash.”

Greg shook his head. “I didn’t get hit by a car today. As soon as we get unpacked, I’ll take watch.” He opened the door of Fee’s room, picked up both their suitcases and smiled at his cousin as he followed Fee into their room. “Good night, munchkin.”

Alone in the luxurious guest suite, Fianna took yet another bath, this time in a pink marble whirlpool tub, filled with strawberry-scented bath salts. It seemed all she’d done today was clean herself up, over and over again. At least this time, she had no injuries to show for it.

Twice in one day, someone had tried to kill her. So much for her life as a human being free from intrigue and corruption.

She shivered, noting that the water had gone cold while she soaked, waiting for Greg to return to the room they were apparently going to share. Fianna wasn’t sure how she felt about that. He hadn’t asked her opinion, and she had to put a stop to that sort of autocratic behavior before it went any further, but she didn’t want to sleep alone, either. Not in this house with the same cold feel as her uncle’s Underhill manor.

She stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in a huge, fluffy towel off a warming rack. Even though she’d had this kind of luxury at Aidan’s Grosse Pointe home, it felt odd, now, after a few months of living in her small apartment. Her tired muscles disagreed, having finally relaxed under the soothing jets. A glass of wine would have been wonderful, but that was out of the question.

She pulled on a thigh-length nightshirt and climbed into the big bed alone. Greg was still out in the hall, or so he’d said. Sofia Bartok was right upstairs, in a room that had to be close to the one Greg was supposed to be in. Had he gone up to see her? The lupine woman was stunning, and they clearly had an intimate past. She’d also seemed smart and competent—altogether a far more fitting mate for the future Prime alpha than a gullible, exiled elf with no breasts to speak of and a total lack of understanding of the mortal realm.

The high-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets and pillowcase caressed the skin of her legs and cheek. She snuggled under the thick down duvet, wondering if Greg would join her. It didn’t take long before fatigue overwhelmed her tumultuous thoughts. It seemed barely a moment later when she felt the covers lift and a warm body slide in behind her.

Greg kissed her cheek and curled himself around her, tucking her backside up against his groin. His erection nestled against her but he didn’t kiss her or start any sexual play. “Go back to sleep, princess. You’ve had one hell of a long day.”

“Mmm.” She tangled her fingers with his where they rested beneath her breasts. His presence made the comfortable bed a haven. Fianna snuggled back into his warmth and fell asleep, happier than she had any right to be.

Greg woke with an armful of soft, strawberry-scented female. It only took his brain half a second to process that it was Fee, though the soap wasn’t her usual one, and to remember everything that had happened in the last two days. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled. Under the strawberry overtones, the smell was right and he grunted in contentment.

Mine.

His woman. His mate.

Having nearly lost her twice the day before had convinced him that he truly wanted to keep her. Greg knew he was messed up from growing up here, with the constant beatings and ass-chewing. He understood pack love—taking care of George and Lana was as natural as breathing. He’d never thought, though, that he’d let another person close enough to have the power to hurt him. What he felt for Fee scared him. It was too visceral, too intense. He wasn’t sure he was ready to put a name to his feelings, but she was his, and he intended to make sure she stayed that way.

She stirred in his arms and Greg bent his head to nuzzle her throat. “Good morning.” Sometime during the night, her sleep shirt had ridden up to her waist, leaving her bare against him. Once they were mated, he was going to have to convince her not to wear the silly things at all. He didn’t want anything between his skin and hers.

“Hmm?” She stretched, jerking as she must have felt his morning erection poking her ass. “Oh!”

“Might as well get used to that. It happens a lot when you’re around.” He slipped his hand from her waist up under her shirt to cup one of her breasts.

She pressed into his hand, her nipple already pebbled. The movement shifted her ass back against his groin and he rubbed his dick shamelessly against her cheeks while he continued to nibble on her throat. For a change, they had all the time in the world and he planned to enjoy it, going slow with his skittish beauty. He rolled her taut nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

“Greg.” She arched her neck and wiggled her butt against his cock. “We shouldn’t—not here.”

“Yes. We should.” He sucked lightly at his mark on her throat, knowing the residual hormones from his saliva would tingle for the next several weeks. By the time it faded, she would be well and truly his.

“But everyone will know.” Even as she protested, she turned her head to kiss his jawline.

“So?” He kissed her lips lightly. “Who cares?” He dove in for a longer, deeper kiss, his tongue plundering the wet heat of her mouth. “Now that’s a proper good-morning kiss.”

“Yes.” Her eyes softened, darkened, as she gave up the fight. “Good morning, Greg.” She kissed him back this time, reaching up an arm to pull his head closer to hers.

He let her keep control for a moment, exploring him as he had her. When she started to roll over to face him, though, he stopped her. “This way. I promise you’ll like it.”

With her back pressed against his chest, he lifted her leg up and back to drape over his, opening her body to his. He slid his hand along her thigh to cup her mound with his fingers, finding her as warm and damp as he’d expected. The scent of her arousal wafted up to his nostrils, making him even harder than before.

He played with her curls, before delving deeper with his fingers, slipping into her cleft and spreading the wetness back and forth. Fee moaned and pushed into his hand. When he slipped his other arm beneath her, reaching around to fondle her breast, she squealed and arched her spine.

“You like this, don’t you?” He nipped at his mark at the same time as he finally moved his fingers up to her swollen clit. “Admit it, princess, you like the way I make you feel.”

“Of. Course.” She gasped for breath between the words.

“Then come for me.” He strummed her clit and pinched down on her nipple.

Her spasm shook the bed and a wash of moisture filled his hand. Before she finished, he coated his shaft with her cream and positioned the tip at her entrance. While she shuddered with aftershocks, he pressed inside.

Her muscles rippled around him, gripping as he drove deep into her channel. Once he was seated, he held himself still, kissing her throat and ear, caressing her breast and belly with his hands while she rode out her orgasm.

As soon as he felt her start to tighten again, he began to move. He kept it slow, making sure her arousal returned, working with hands, mouth and cock to bring her to another, higher peak. He’d always thought of himself as a considerate lover, but never before had his partner’s pleasure been so much more important than his own.

Finally, Fee began to whimper and buck against him, straining toward another climax. Greg pumped into her and used his fingers on her clit, pressing hard against the tender nub.

Fee exploded around him and Greg nearly lost consciousness from the power of the orgasm her pulsing muscles dragged out of him. He poured into her, burst after burst until he was sure there’d be nothing left of him but a husk. Nothing had ever felt so good.

Afterward, they fell asleep again, still entwined, their bodies sheened with sweat. The last bit of energy Greg had was barely enough to pull the covers up before he fell back into the darkness.

They missed breakfast. It was nearly noon by the time Fianna and Greg made it downstairs to find the dining room empty. The butler glowered down his nose as he informed them that lunch would be served in an hour. Fianna’s stomach rumbled in protest.

Following the voices coming down the corridor, they found Lana and Katy in a big, sunny sitting room, playing a board game with three young children. The fourth slept on a blanket beside Katy, his little pink hands curled into fists.

“Hey.” Katy smiled up at them. “Wondered when you two would show your faces.”

“Grandfather’s looking for you, Greg. He made it clear this is a male-only war council.” Lana’s disgusted tone let Fianna know she wasn’t the only one annoyed. “Better get moving if you don’t want him to bite your tail off.”

“You’ll be all right, won’t you?” Greg turned to Fianna, his expression soft as he toyed with a lock of her hair. “I’ll catch up with you at lunchtime.”

“I’ll be fine.” She looked forward to spending some time with Katy and her children. “Go ahead.”

With a kiss on the top of her head, he sauntered off down the hallway, leaving Fianna to make her way into the sitting room. Her stomach growled again as she stopped beside Lana.

“Join us,” Katy said with a conspiratorial smile. “My mother’s keeping Greg’s grandmother busy and out of the way. Besides, we have cookies.”

“And coffee,” Lana added. “Which you look like you could use.” She gestured to a table in the corner, where a tray held a coffee urn and a pitcher of juice, along with plates of cookies and muffins.

The thought of coffee made her mouth water, but she settled for orange juice and a blueberry muffin, then took her goodies back to the group and settled down on the floor beside the coffee table holding the game. Lana eyed the juice suspiciously but said nothing.

“You wanna play?” The middle child, four, according to Fianna’s memory, eyed her dubiously. The little girl had the same dark eyes as Greg, meaning she won Fee’s heart in an instant.

“Thank you for asking. Why don’t I watch this time, so I can learn the rules? Then maybe I can play another time.” Fianna took a drink of her juice, amazed at how thirsty she was after this morning’s exercise.

“Delaney, that was very nice,” her mother said with a smile. “Now say hello to your Aunt Fee. Fee, this is Delaney, Tessa and Kevin.” She pointed around the table, lastly to the toddler by her knee. “And Jack. Kids, this is the lady marrying Uncle Greg. Be nice to her.”