Chapter 4
Katie awoke to a warm rain splashing her window an hour before dawn. She’d managed about thirty minutes of sleep—the pain in her arm kept her awake most of the night. Residue remained in her head from the run-in with the werewolf ... tarlike and painful. All werewolves were monsters, but Brent went beyond animalistic. Truly evil, he needed to be stopped.
Her pink kitten-shaped clock flipped numbers over to reveal the early time. Lance had given her the goofy clock as a joke a few months back, but she kind of liked the color.
A sound caught her attention. Her heart increased in tempo. Someone waited in the living room. A quiet presence. Considering Maggie had been away at the labs for the last month, whoever hovered in there wasn’t invited.
Darkness slid inside and a shadow filled her doorway.
Scooting back, sitting up, she reached for the light.
Jordan leaned negligently against the door frame. “Told you to be ready.”
Relief relaxed her shoulders. She shoved long, sandy-colored hair away from her face. The pattering rain was failing to dispel the muggy air. “You really need to learn to knock.”
“I’ll work on it.”
Silence stretched out. Even from across the room, she could feel his heat. Male and strong. In her bedroom. Why hadn’t she worn the sexy negligee Maggie bought for her last birthday instead of a ratty old T-shirt? Her chest began to ache. She cleared her throat. “I read a file on you earlier.”
“I figured.”
Something inside her fissured. “How were you infected?”
He glanced around the soft yellow room, interest lighting his eyes. “The Kurjans attacked feline headquarters. Arrows tipped with the virus. Good plan.”
She tugged up the deep green bedspread that perfectly matched the one on Jordan’s bed. God, hopefully he wouldn’t notice the similarity. “Anybody else infected?”
“No.” His gaze landed on the pretty desk in the corner he’d carved for her sixteenth birthday.
“So you were the target?” Made sense. Jordan was the most powerful leader in the shifter world—take him out and more chaos would ensue.
“Probably.” He straightened his pose and tilted his head toward three watercolors lining the wall. “Those are by Brenna Dunne.”
“Yes.” The young witch was incredibly talented. “We’re friends. When Maggie and I moved here, we asked Brenna to paint us a couple forest scenes.” Forest scenes reminding Katie of home. Reminding her of safety, family, and Jordan.
“Hmmm.” Jordan shook his head, eyes focusing as he faced her fully. “I have four days to get things in order. We should get going.”
Something didn’t quite track. If she ended up being confined to headquarters, then she’d rather be at home with her people. Even though she couldn’t shift, she was still a shifter, darn it. “Why don’t you want me at home?”
“I’m endorsing Noah as leader of the feline nation. Some people won’t agree, and it’ll be dangerous until he proves himself. I need Baye at home to help Mac cover his back.” The three brothers had served as Jordan’s enforcers for centuries. The feline nation was a monarchy, and Jordan had no family. Nobody waited to ascend and lead, so there’d be fights until one victor emerged. Jordan ran a rough hand through his tawny hair, leaving it mussed.
Her hands were jealous. “I spoke with Emma earlier.”
A genuine smile tipped his lips. Finally. “How is the Queen of the Realm?”
“Good. She said they might have an antiviral for the virus based on both Maggie’s blood and the sample you sent right after being infected.” After all this time, could they have found a cure?
“That’d be great.” Jordan’s inflection didn’t change. Lightning cracked outside, brightening the room. “Don’t get your hopes up. We both know there isn’t enough time for me, but maybe for others.” He took a step inside, bringing the scent of wild male with him.
An unwelcome hurt chilled her legs. “Why didn’t you call me? I mean, when you were infected?”
He stilled, lifting both eyebrows. “I came as soon as I knew the results.”
“I could’ve worried with you while you waited for confirmation.” Why couldn’t he see her as an adult—as someone he could count on? “You can trust me.”
“I do trust you.”
No, he didn’t. In fact, Jordan didn’t really trust anybody. “You don’t have to be so all alone all the time.” Ruling a nation took a strong hand, and Jordan held strength in bulk. But Dage ruled with family around ... with friends being a part of his life. Why couldn’t Jordan?
Irritation cut lines to the sides of his mouth. “Let’s discuss my leadership issues another day. I don’t suppose you’ve packed?”
“No.”
“We can do this my way, Katie ... or my way.” Then his head lifted. His eyes darkened.. “I smell blood.”
Shit. “I, ah, cut my arm. No big deal.”
Two strides and he sat on the bed, reaching for her bandaged arm, zeroing right in. “What cut you?” His voice lowered to deadly.
She shivered in her thin T-shirt. “Ah, well, a werewolf?”
He ran his fingers along the side of the bandage. “Tonight?” Puzzlement combined with anger in his frown. “The moon isn’t full. Did you find a lair?”
“No.” She trembled but not from the cold. The contrast in Jordan’s gentle touch and dangerous tone caused a warming in her belly. A tingling in her thighs. Man, she needed to concentrate. “Baye and I went looking for the place we think he’ll go when the moon is full ... at the marina ... and he was, uh, there tonight. He’s evolved, Jordan. Actually spoke to me.” Kind of.
Jordan straightened. Doubt filled his eyes. “A werewolf spoke to you?”
“Yes. He said his name was Brent, and he knew you. Didn’t like you much.”
“Brent? Couldn’t be.” Jordan frowned, gently setting her arm on the bedspread. For two seconds, he didn’t move enough to even breathe. Then he exhaled, his jaw hardening. “I have calls to make.” He stood, crossing the room in three strides, lifting his cell phone to his ear. “You have an hour to pack.”
Glass shattered.
Shards flew from the window to cover her bedspread.
Fur shone in the moonlight, and a low growl vibrated as a werewolf leaped inside, landing solidly on two feet. He sniffed, straightening to his full height.
Jordan pivoted, snapping the phone shut.
Oh God. Katie scooted farther back against the headboard, her heart slamming behind her ribs. Her mental shields dropped into place, protecting her from evil. The smell of wet dog made her cough. Calm. She needed to stay calm to think. “Jordan, meet Brent.”
The two studied each other. Rain splashed inside, droplets glimmering on her polished oak floors.
Weird. This was too weird. The werewolf should be going for their throats, not staring at Jordan with an amused glint in his yellow eyes.
She had a gun in the nightstand. Slowly, casually, she reached for the drawer.
“No,” Brent growled, keeping his gaze on Jordan. “No, Kaattiieee.”
“Jesus.” Jordan shoved his phone in his pocket. “When did you evolve enough to talk?” He eyed Katie and the beast, anger darkening his smooth skin.
Yeah. The bed lay between Jordan and Brent. Not a good place to be in her flimsy shirt without any weapons.
Jordan moved toward the bed.
“Stop.” Brent flashed yellow teeth in a parody of a smile. “I talk. I think. I hunt.” He jerked his head toward Katie. “Miiiine.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong. Kate, get out of bed and come here.” Jordan’s skin shimmered. A growl, deadlier than the one issued by Brent, rumbled from his twisted lips. “You said you know me?”