Page 95 of The Delta's Rogue
“I think she’s a witch.”
It’s the only explanation. I don’t like it, and it heightens my wariness of her, but I can’t think of any other being—other than Selene—that can connect with others in dreams.
“Our pack hasn’t had the best luck with witches. How do we know we can trust her?” Reid grips Taryn’s hand tightly and angles his body in front of hers protectively.
I shrug. “We don’t. But she’s the only lead we have so far.”
Everyone considers what I said, exchanging looks.
I wait, arms crossed and body still, even though my heart races and my stomach swarms with fluttering, winged animals. Both grow faster and stronger with each moment that passes without a response from any of them.
Wesley finally breaks eye contact with Haven and gives me a curt nod. “So, what’s your plan?”
I let out a relieved sigh and lead them to the dining room, opening my laptop that I placed there when I arrived. “I’m still working through some of it. I’ll worry about those details when we need to,” I say as everyone takes a seat around the table. “But what I know is that the traffickers are auctioning Sarina off on May fourteenth.”
“Where?” Dominic asks.
“She didn’t know. That’s what we need to find out. I have Forrest contacting Nuncio—one of their operatives—to set up a meeting with him.”
“Who is Forrest?” Reid asks.
“He’s one of two owners of a chain of BDSM clubs in California. The main club is in the city here.”
Reid frowns. “How do you know him?”
My hands freeze on the keys, and I glance at him over the screen of my laptop, where I’m taking notes on my plan as I speak to them. “I’m the other owner.”
Reid stares at me, stunned into rare silence. Then he throws his head back and bursts out into raucous laughter, slamming his hand against the table.
“Goddess, I needed that laugh.” He wipes the humor-filled tears from his eyes even as more of them fall while his laughter continues. “Okay, seriously, how do you know him?”
I shift in my seat and turn my focus back to my laptop, deleting the bullet point I wrote before he asked his question.
Reid’s laugh fades to a chuckle, and then he stops, eyes widening and all humor wiped from his expression. “Oh my Goddess, you’re serious. You’re fucking serious.”
I avoid everyone’s gaze, keeping my eyes glued to my computer so I don’t have to witness the judgment, deal with the questions, or endure the teasing.
I never planned on telling any of them about my specific sexual tastes and desires. It’s none of their business, and it doesn’t have any bearing on my relationships with them. But Sarina’s life is on the line, and nothing matters less than my embarrassment over my sex life.
“Sebastian,” Wesley mutters from my left.
I continue to ignore him, typing away furiously.
He sighs. I see him shake his head from my periphery. “I’m assuming you’re wanting to meet with Nuncio to get this information we need?”
My phone pings with a text message right as he finishes his question. I yank it from my pocket and scan over the details Forrest just sent me about Nuncio.
“Yes,” I reply. “Tomorrow night.”
I meet each of their eyes around the table as I pocket my phone once more. Instead of the judgment and teasing I expected to find, they all sit there quietly, waiting for me to update them on the plan.
I push down every emotion snaking through my system as I focus on becoming the leader needed for this skeleton of a plan to work. “Who wants to come with me?”
The limo creeps throughthe city at a snail’s pace, navigating the complexities of Southern California highways and the traffic that goes along with them. My knee bounces, and I focus on breathing and calming my nerves. So much is riding on this meeting with Nuncio, and the weight of all of it falls on me. We can’t mess this up. We can’t raise his suspicions. If we do, the rest of our plan unravels.
Leaning back against the leather seats, I scan the vehicle’s interior.
I’m not the only occupant on edge. Dominic has cracked his neck more times than I can count, and Nolan sits ramrod straight with his jaw clenched, eyes flicking to Cassandra every five seconds. Of the four of us, she’s the one who seems the least fazed by the front we’re presenting, by the part she must play to keep up our ruse. She sits quietly, curled into Nolan’s side, hand resting on his chest. He clutches her to him, his grip fierce and unyielding. His possessiveness radiates from him, and his clenched jaw ticks with annoyance every time he glances at her and sees her revealing gold dress.
