Kade led me inside, poured me a glass of wine to drink while he readied the spa, dropped in the scents I'd asked for, then helped me strip and climb in. As the piece de resistance, he leisurely washed my hair as the warm water bubbled around my limbs, easing tensions I hadn't realized existed even as the flowery scents touched the air, soothing and relaxing.
Once he'd helped me dry off, he sat me down and combed my hair, and, though at that point I was ready and willing to dance with him, he led me to bed, tucked me in, and walked away.
It occurred to me then that no other man in my life—besides my brother—had ever treated me so sensually, so lovingly, so damn wonderfully, just because he knew I needed it. Which was a rather sad statement about my life and my relationships to date. Even Quinn, for all his fine words about needing to be in my life, had yet to show the sort of caring Kade had just shown.
Really, the only man in my life showing any real potential as a permanent mate was Kellen, and I barely even knew him.
Maybe I should just cut my losses and play with Kade. I might never find my soul mate, but at least I'd be guaranteed a little tender loving care every now and again.
I was beginning to wonder if Quinn even knew what that was.
It was near five by the time we arrived at Genoveve, and considering we should have been there in the morning rather than late in the afternoon, Jack was in a surprisingly good mood. I wish the same could be said for Quinn. He was standing near the windows, looking out over the old arena, his hands clasped behind his back and tension riding his shoulders. His air of disapproval and anger hit so hard it was like a physical blow. I staggered, gasping to breathe as the air around me seemed to bubble and boil in fury.
Kade grabbed my arm, holding me upright. "Jesus, what's happening?"
"Riley?" Rhoan said, almost at the same time.
I ignored them both, my gaze boring into Quinn's stiff back as I gasped, "Quinn, stop it."
He glanced at me sharply, then the sense of his anger snapped into nothingness, and suddenly I could breathe again.
I put a hand up, stopping Rhoan as he hurried toward me. "It's okay. I'm okay." I squeezed Kade's hand, and he released me, yet kept near, as if afraid I was going to topple again.
Rhoan frowned as his gaze drifted between me and Quinn. "What happened?"
"I can sense what Quinn is feeling if he isn't shielding properly."
Rhoan's frown deepened, but it was Jack who said, "Empathy is not one of your talents."
"I don't think it's empathy, or I'd be sensing what everyone was feeling." I hesitated. "I think it has more to do with that link we created when we were about to raid Talon's labs. It seems to have gone deeper than we intended."
Jack didn't look convinced. "And it might just be the first sign that the ARC 1-23 is starting to take effect. We'll have to get you back into the lab for more tests."
"Sorry, but I'm over being pricked, prodded, and poked right now." In more ways than one. "Let's just get this mess sorted out first."
He grunted, and looked back to his com-screen. "It seems Misha is finally giving us some worthwhile information."
I walked across to one of the comfy chairs and plonked down. Kade stayed where he was and leaned a shoulder against the wall. Quinn continued to do his silent and angry vampire act.
"In what way?" I asked Jack.
He leaned back in his chair, and practically beamed. In all the years I'd worked for him, I'd never seen him this happy, and I wasn't entirely sure whether to be amused or scared.
"We've been aware of the Helki pack's activities for some time," he said. "They're black market racketeers and sell everything from stolen car parts to government secrets. But because you wolves tend to be very tightly knit, we've been unable to get anyone in there to collect the proof we need."
"Without getting anyone in there, you're not going to be able to glean too much information about them."
"No, only what we're able to ascertain from keeping a continuous watch on them."
I raised an eyebrow. "That wouldn't happen to be where Gautier's been this last month, is it?"
Jack nodded. "It's better we keep him out of trouble while we decide what to do with him."
"But if he's working for these people, he's not likely to report back anything useful. He might even warn the Helki pack they're being watched."
"He might not give us real information, but I doubt he'd warn them. That would be showing his hand, and I don't think he's ready to do that yet."
I tucked my legs up underneath me. "Misha really didn't give us a name or anything else to start with. He just pointed us to the pack."
"Ah, but he did give a name." Rhoan's eyes twinkled mischievously—a sure sign he was taking a dig. "Don't tell me you can't remember Robert, the wolf you had just before Talon and Misha? Wasn't he the love of your life?"
Robert. I snorted even as I remembered him, and barely resisted the urge to throw something at my brother. But only because there wasn't anything within immediate reach. "For all of a few weeks. Until I realized the bastard was using me to get closer to you."
He grinned. "Actually, he had this fantasy about the three of—"
"Don't even go there."
"Bringing this back to business," Jack said, giving Rhoan an annoyed look. "There's a Roberta Whitby who is the current head of the Helki pack."
Rhoan and I shared a surprised glance. "A woman is the head of the pack?" he said.
"Yes. Why?"
"Because women are never head of the packs. It's always an alpha male."
"Then the Helki pack are obviously one of your more progressive packs."
"There is no such thing as a progressive pack in this matter," Rhoan refuted. "Alpha's lead, not women, not betas, not gammas. It's the rule of the wild, and it's the rule of the pack." He glanced at me. "There'll be a reason why she leads."
"There just might be," I said slowly. "Misha told me the Helki pack are true shifters—some can take on other animal forms, and some can take on other human forms. One of the men who assaulted me in that research cell is one of Misha's clone-mates—and he can apparently take on various human shapes. What if this Roberta was the cell donor? What if he can take on various human shapes because she could?"
Rhoan's frown deepened. "That still wouldn't explain why a woman leads the pack."
"But what if she's something similar to a hermaphrodite? What if she can take on female and male form?"
"That's not possible," Jack said.
"Isn't it? Hermaphrodites exist. If a shifter was born with male and female bits, might it not be possible that he—or she—could take on both forms?"
"That's a bit of a leap."
"Maybe not." I hesitated, remembered my initial reaction on seeing Mrs. Hunt last night—a reaction I'd almost convinced myself to be the result of scrambled brain cells. But put those memories next to Misha's guarded words, and maybe the memories weren't that scrambled after all. "Misha said last night that Mrs. Hunt and the man who used me in the breeding center were very close indeed. What if that was his way of saying they were one and the same person?"
"ltd have to be a long shot, surely," Kade commented.
"Would it? They have the same eyes, and more importantly, they have the same scent."
"Not two spoors smell exactly the same," Rhoan commented. "Even in a family unit, there are slight differences."
"Maybe." Jack didn't sound convinced, but added, "Though it would certainly explain why the various members of the pack have slipped through the traps we've set."
"It could also mean the man in overall charge of the labs can assume any shape," Rhoan commented grimly. "Which means he could be anyone, anywhere."