Page 53 of Soulmates
Pack is trust.
Connor follows me back to my father’s office, keeping half a step behind like a good bodyguard.
Dad’s secretary, Melissa, greets me like a long-lost nephew. “David Collins!” Her Deep Southaccent does funny things to vowels. “You come right on in.”
She opens the door to Dad’s office, but when Connor moves to follow me, she stops him. “You understand, don’t you, sir? It’s a family thing.”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “I’ll be okay. Just…um…wait here for a few. This shouldn’t take very long.”
He doesn’t stop me—he can’t. If he tries, he’ll bring the whole pack down on himself. But his body language is telling me all kinds of shit.Don’t go. Be careful.
Danger.
I should have listened.
Part Three: Copper Heart
Chapter Eighteen
Connor…
TÁ MÉ AG siúl fear marbh.
Dead man walking.
Me. When the vampire finds out what I’ve done.
I’m sitting on a couch in the lobby of the Alpha Wolf’s offices. The seat is uncomfortable, the office impersonal. Across from me, a receptionist is typing at a streamlined, silver laptop. She’s wearing an earpiece with a wire mic, but no one has disturbed her concentration. Twenty minutes ago, David went in to talk with his father. Nineteen minutes ago, my gut started pinging.
Now, I’m ready to crawl out of my skin.
Something chimes, setting off sparks of anxiety, and the receptionist speaks. “Be right there, sir.” She avoids eye contact, picks up her laptop, and disappears through the double doors into the office.
Then, nothing.
She doesn’t come out, and no one else enters. I wait, schooling myself for patience.Connor MacPherson can handle anything, right? Honorable member of The Elite. Famed fighter. Heartsick romantic fool.
All part of my CV.
Despite my best effort, my knee starts bouncing, a hyper staccato rhythm. Where is David? Why doesn’t the receptionist return? He’d greeted her by name, and she’d known him. This couldn’t be some kind of setup.
Could it?
I shift my weight, and the small envelope in my pocket crinkles. Impervious to heat and to moisture, it cannot be torn or burned. It’s holding a slip of test paper that contains a sample of David’s DNA.
The kiss in the elevator served more than one purpose. The DNA sample gave me a safeguard, a way of tracing David if he got into trouble, and it gave me a taste of something I’ve been hungry for ever since I first saw him.
In another ten minutes, I can’t sit still any longer. David’s been gone a good half an hour, and maybe he and Dad are having a heart-to-heart in an office with a view of the world. If they are, I’ll have to beg their pardon. My gut’s telling me they’re not.
I stand, reaching for the gun in my shoulder holster. The tap is a ritual, a reassurance. If I acknowledge my weapon, then maybe I won’t have to use it. Magical thinking.
The heavy door to the inner office swings easily. It opens into a hallway with a dim, unused feel. The building’s at least 100 years old, the walls covered with a thick coat of plaster, and the air smells of stale lemon cleaner. Four doors open off the left-hand side. The only light comes from the fluorescents overhead.
I take a second to orient myself in space. The double doors at the end must be the corner office. If I were an alpha werewolf, that’s where I’d make my den.
The only noise is the muted buzz of the ventilation system. No chatter from office workers, no beeps or rings from cell phones or computers. Nothing. I stop long enough to peek into one of the hallway doors. It opens into an empty room.Shite.
I pick up my pace, but I already know what I’ll find. The big corner office at the end of the hall is empty. Deserted. No furniture. No receptionist. No nothing.
