Anger heated Katie’s ears. Her squad understood her ... they trusted her. Jordan wanted her to run without even discussing the matter. “I’m not afraid of this guy.” She kept her tone level as she told the lie.
“Don’t care. Until the next full moon, I’m your Alpha, and I’m ordering you to Realm Headquarters.” Jordan tossed her a notepad and pen. “Write down anyone you’ve spent time with the last few years. Mainly men, but we don’t want to rule out women. This stalker might not be selective.”
His absolute refusal to listen wiped away the anger, leaving hurt. Yet she still owed him, and would go to Realm Headquarters in an effort to help him find a way to beat the moon. Then she’d return to hunting down werewolves until not one remained. “A werewolf stalker.” She shook her head. “How is it possible Brent killed these people? I mean, how could he have gotten to the cop?”
Lance flipped open his phone to read. “Police report. Says there was a firefight in a northern bayou, bodies fell into the marsh. Animals tore up the detective pretty good by the time the authorities found him and fished him out.”
Bile rose in Katie’s throat. She gagged and swallowed repeatedly. Torn up by animals? Damn Brent. “I don’t believe this.”
Fury lifted Jordan’s lip. “Either Brent or his picture-taking buddy has to be responsible.” The lion gestured to the neatly stacked pile of photographs. “All three men who died are in those pictures.”
As were several other people. Katie sucked in a deep breath to keep from puking.
Lance eyed the photographs. “Realm Headquarters is too obvious. We need to get you somewhere off the grid while we figure this out.”
Jordan kept his gaze on the photos as if by staring the answers would come clear. “No. Headquarters is secure ... and we need more blood tests. Katie goes with me.”
“You mean the headquarters in Oregon? Not exactly a big secret.” Lance reached to pat her hand, his palm warm and comforting. “Besides, the virus in your blood makes you unstable, Jordan.”
Jordan pushed off the fridge, his lids lowering.
Panic swept down Katie’s throat. “Jordan’s fine. Emma will cure him and that’ll be the end of the virus.”
“Right.” Lance tightened his hold. “We’ve fought together, Katie. We’re a team. Baye and I can keep you safe.”
Jordan snarled. “You and Baye didn’t even know she was being followed, much less stalked and photographed. How the hell can you keep her safe?” His hand swept the photographs, sending several flying.
Katie swallowed. Lance had saved her butt, more than once. They were a good team. For the first time, indecision regarding her path had her faltering. She was a good hunter. But she’d wanted Jordan her entire life. If nothing else, she owed him and would try to help him survive the virus.
Baye watched the interplay, no expression on his face.
Lance released her, standing to glare at Jordan. “How safe is she with you?”
Jordan’s nostrils flared. “I won’t hurt her.”
Disbelief had the tiger’s brows lifting. “Really? Why do I find that hard to believe?”
Jordan charged, hands fisting in Lance’s shirt and shoving the man against the wall.
Face-to-face, furious, both males snarled low. Raw energy and power vibrated around the apartment. Panic rushed to Katie’s legs.
She jumped toward them, slapping a hand on the biceps of the deadly cats. “You knock it off, right now.” That was all she needed. The men in her life coming to blows. There were too many Alpha males in her business. Damn heroes thought they could control the world and keep her safe. She cast a frustrated glare at the one not involved. “Do something.”
Baye shrugged. “Let them fight it out.” He yanked a beer off the counter and took a deep swallow. “They both want to protect you, and neither has figured out they have the same goal.”
Sometimes he was such an asshole.
She tightened her hold on the vibrating muscles beneath her palms. “Please stop. Lance, I appreciate you’re trying to protect me, but I need to go to headquarters. Jordan, release my friend.”
For two beats, nobody moved. Then Jordan unclenched his hands, backing away.
Lance straightened his shirt, his gaze on the lion. But he directed his words to her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ll call when we get there.” She’d miss her friends. But she had a plan.
Lance nodded, finally turning to face her. “We’ll trace the rest of these people, Kate. And we’ll go after Brent at the same time. The bastard only has four nights until the full moon, and we’ll be ready. Trust me.”
“I do.” Fear welled up in her along with the bile. If anything happened to Baye or Lance, she didn’t know what she’d do. They’d bonded in fear, fight, and survival. “I’ll miss you.”
Jordan cleared his throat. “Time to go.”
Katie clutched the armrests of the small private plane, her heart beating so fast her breath caught. After a tearful good-bye with both Lance and Baye, she’d silently headed to the airport with Jordan. Guilt from the deaths kept her quiet. Logically, she knew her dates’ deaths weren’t her fault.
Guilt defied logic.
Jordan lifted an eyebrow across from her. He had no problem facing backward as they rose into the air. “You still hate flying?”
“Cats shouldn’t fly.” No way would she land on her feet if they dropped from the sky. Not this far. Attempting to force a smile, she tried to relax her shoulders from solid rock to liquid cement ... without success. “I’m surprised you’re okay with flying considering what a control freak you are.”
“How many men have you dated the last ten years, anyway?” He grimaced after saying the words, as if he hadn’t meant to let them out.
“Enough,” she said softly. She’d compared every single man to Jordan, and not one had come close to being what she wanted. “Of course, I hadn’t thought dating me would be a death sentence.”
“Not your fault.” He’d tied his thick hair back at the neck after his shower, and her fingers had the oddest urge to yank the strands free. “Date any shifters? Or just humans?”
The conversation made her twitchy. “Both.”
“Get serious with anybody?”
“Does it matter?”
He sighed. “Yes. I don’t want your dating life to matter to me, but it does.”
She blew out a breath. “Is it just me, or was that a, ‘Gee, your ass doesn’t look as big as usual in those jeans,’ kind of compliment?”
He grinned. “Sorry. You know what I mean.”
Actually, she didn’t. Not really. But she nodded anyway. “I dated my History of Warfare professor for quite a while last year.” She’d graduated from the university with a knowledge necessary for her squad. Even if she couldn’t fight like a healthy shifter, the battle plans she created bordered on brilliant, according to Baye.
Jordan quirked a lip. “I hope you got an A.”
“Of course.” They hadn’t started dating until after the class had concluded, but Jordan didn’t need to know the details. “I also took a cooking class.”
Humor flirted with Jordan’s full lips. “Did you ace the cooking class?”
“No.” In fact, she’d been asked to leave after she’d set the kitchen on fire for the third time. She and the professor agreed she’d take a C and never return.
“I’m not, er, surprised.” Jordan glanced at the clouds whirling by outside the small windows.
“Maggie took classes at the same time and majored in philosophy.”
“Does she help fight?” Jordan cracked his neck.
“Not usually.” Someday maybe Maggie would be well enough to fight, but that day hadn’t arrived.
Katie’s head settled against the back of her chair, and she studied Jordan from half-closed lids. Concentrating on his symmetrical face was a lot better than imagining herself dropping a zillion feet to hit concrete. A slight purple bruise from the fight with Brent covered the right side of Jordan’s jaw, emphasizing strength and muscle. The cords of his neck were all male, so masculine she’d imagined running her mouth along the firmness many times. In fact, she’d like to take a bite right where his prominent jaw met the sweet spot under his ear.