Garrett wiped blood off his chin. “Mom got up early to work in the lab, and Dad went to train, so I came to find Janie. That cat was mauling her.” His fangs dropped low again. “Ows.”
Charlie snorted. “Nice fangs.”
Janie barely grabbed Garrett in time to stop his next lunge. “Knock it off.” She sighed. “Uncle Conn, I kissed Charlie, and then stupid Garrett threw him over the pool table.”
Garrett gave her a wounded look and then turned a glare on Charlie. A glare very much like the one their father used when angry. His biceps visibly vibrated. “He deserved it.”
Conn scrubbed both hands over his face. “Okay. If I were a shifter and someone threw me over a pool table, I’d probably shift.” He eyed Garrett with a look promising there’d be a later discussion. “Which means Garrett gets to clean up the mess. Charlie, go get some sleep.”
Charlie smiled, tugging the T-shirt down farther. “No worries. And Janie, thanks for covering for me, but I kissed you.”
“A fact I’m sure her father will appreciate knowing,” Conn said with an answering smile.
Charlie choked and lost the grin. “Ah, see you later.” Grabbing his destroyed clothing, he fled the room.
Garrett slammed his hands on his hips. “Uncle Conn, I came in here and that jerk had his tongue halfway down my sister’s throat.”
Conn groaned. “Shut up, Garrett.” He shuffled his feet. “Ah, Janie, well—”
“No.” Her blush actually hurt. With as much dignity as she could fake, she stomped around the pool table toward the door. “We don’t need to talk, Uncle Conn. I know all about sex.”
Her uncle emitted a sound like a cat getting its tail caught in a door. “God.”
Janie fought a grin, leaving the room. She touched her lips. Her first kiss.
The wolf arrived at the crack of dawn. Tall, broad across the shoulders, with eyes the color of dark chocolate, and shoulder-length black hair with interesting mahogany streaks, Terrent Vilks looked like a wolf. His nose had been broken, maybe a couple of times, resulting not in the look of a street brawler, but of a predator who had probably retaliated. He sat in the plush leather chair, hands clasped on the conference table, focus solely on Maggie.
She swallowed. For ten years she’d trained to fight. After one moment with the leader of the Bane’s Council, she knew ten years wasn’t enough. Not even close.
The king sat to her right at the head of the table, and she faced the wolf.
Dage cleared his throat. “While I appreciate the Bane’s Council’s desire to see Maggie taken to your headquarters, we won’t force her to go.”
Terrent lifted one dark eyebrow. “She’s ours. If we say she goes, she goes.” Low, arrogant, his voice nevertheless held a hint of humor. A twinkle glimmered in his eyes, but the set of his jaw promised a stubborn nature.
Dage frowned. “You’ve never forced wolves to live anywhere. Your people are as free as ours.”
“True.” Terrent leaned back and his chair creaked in protest. “Maggie, you’ve lived with lions and vampires for a decade. Your memory hasn’t returned. Maybe being among your own people will help you.” A slow, sexy smile spread across his face. “You must be tired of cats. Really.”
Cats and vampires were the closest beings she had to family. His attempt at charm wasn’t lost on her. She’d have to be blind and probably in a coma not to recognize the charisma held by the wolf leader. She forced an answering smile. “In the last ten years, with all your contacts, you haven’t found a hint of my past, either.”
He lost the grin. “True.”
She bit the inside of her lip to keep from trembling. “Maybe I was alone. No pack, no family.” What else could it be?
“It’s possible,” Dage said quietly. “There haven’t been any missing persons type inquiries from humans, either.”
Sadness and an odd fear wandered down her spine. How bad of a person had she been not to have anybody looking for her? She settled her face into smooth lines.
Terrent leaned forward. “There are several reasons people who care about you might not have gone public.” His dark gaze pierced her eyes as if trying to see into her memories. Into her past.
She started. The big wolf was trying to reassure her? “Right.” The meeting would be a lot more comfortable if she could find either Katie or Jordan. Both shifters had disappeared, which burned curiosity right through Maggie. In fact, even though the wolf seemed intent on either charming or intimidating her, her mind kept going to her friends. Part of her wanted them to have finally gotten together. The other part of her worried about what would happen next considering the moon would soon rise. If Jordan died, how would Katie survive?
Dage cleared his throat. “I’m in the middle of a couple wars and really don’t have time for games. Why is the head of the Bane’s Council here at my headquarters regarding one little wolf shifter after ten years?”
Terrent’s nostrils flared. “There’s a hit out on her.”
Maggie drew back, a buzzing filling her ears. “Excuse me?”
“The Kurjans have wanted her back since they infected her ten years ago,” Dage said calmly. “Your news isn’t ... news.”
Terrent’s bottom lip turned down, and his gaze remained on her. “Not the Kurjans. My sources in the demon nation confirmed yesterday that the demons want her dead.”
Fire heated in Maggie’s lungs. Calm. She needed to stay calm. “I don’t understand.”
“What do the demons want with her?” Dage growled.
Terrent shrugged. “We don’t know. Yet. But she’s safer with her own people considering the entire world knows she’s here with you.”
Dage stiffened, tapping his ear communicator. “When?” He shot to his feet, gaze encompassing them both. “I’ve had an emergency and will be right back.” Two steps and he yanked open the door. “There are guards outside the room.” The door shut behind him.
Terrent steepled his fingers. “Guards, huh? Apparently the king doesn’t trust me to refrain from kidnapping you.”
“I can take care of myself.” A lame line, but the only thing that sprang to her panicking mind. The king had left her alone with a wolf. With the wolf. Little pins pricked the skin on her arms. Her heart began to ache. She swallowed, forcing panic down. No way would she let an anxiety attack take her down in front of Terrent. “I don’t know any demons.” This didn’t make sense.
“The demons sure know you.” Terrent’s voice stayed level, while his eyes darkened in sympathy. “I’m seeking more information, but all I have right now is that they want you dead. Five million dollars’ worth of dead.”
She blinked away haze. Why in the world would demons want her dead? Fear had her digging in. “I’m staying here.”
“Everyone knows you’re here. I can keep you safe—nobody knows our secure locations, even the king is in the dark. Besides, Maggie, you’ve been living with cats. Don’t you want to be among your own people, feel at home, maybe remember what it’s like to be a wolf?” He rubbed his jaw. “Have you ever run with another wolf? With a pack?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. Her breathing evened out. “If I have, I certainly don’t remember.”
“Then you should give it a try.” Warm, even gentle, his tone wrapped around her.
The guy should bottle the charm and sell it. “You kill werewolves.” She said the words to remind herself as much as him.
“Yes.” No apology, no hint of doubt. “I kill werewolves. Every chance I get.”
She blinked. “You’d kill me if I turned into a werewolf.” Every month of every year, she feared the second the moon rose high, she’d finally lose to the virus and turn into a hairy beast with no conscience.