9. Chapter 9 - Leo
I wait outside the penthouse building, until Dahlia and her friend come out through the revolving doors.
"Oh my god, I still can't believe we met Axl Valentine! And you... you hooked up with him!" Emily's voice is high-pitched with excitement.
Dahlia shushes her, glancing around nervously. "Keep your voice down."
"But Dahlia! You had sex in his bathroom! That's going in the hall of fame of hookups!"
I clench my jaw so hard I'm surprised my teeth don't crack. The bear inside me growls, possessive and angry. A new scent clings to Dahlia, it's musky and male with notes of whiskey and expensive cologne.
I force the animal down. This is a job, nothing more. She's not mine to claim.
Emily flags down a cab, and they prepare to get in. I step out of the shadows just as Dahlia is about to slide into the backseat.
"Going somewhere, Dr. Baldwin?"
Dahlia freezes, then turns slowly to face me. "Detective Byers. Fancy meeting you here."
Emily looks between us with wide eyes. "Um, who is this?"
"Go home, Emily," Dahlia says without breaking eye contact with me. "I'll call you tomorrow."
"But…"
"It's fine," Dahlia insists. "This is... work-related."
Emily hesitates, then pulls Dahlia into a quick hug. "You better call me. And I want every single detail about tonight. Every. Single. Detail."
Once Emily is safely in the cab and pulling away, Dahlia crosses her arms over her chest. "What are you doing here?"
I step closer, towering over her. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be alone?"
"I needed a break," she snaps, tilting her chin up defiantly.
"A break," I repeat flatly. "When we're trying to prevent you from being murdered."
"It was one night, Detective. One normal night."
"Get in the car," I say, nodding toward my unmarked police vehicle parked nearby. "We're leaving."
"I'm not going back to that safe house," she argues. "Not tonight."
"Fine… I have an apartment nearby. We can go there."
She blinks, clearly surprised by my offer. "Your place?"
"Unless you'd prefer Blackthorn's company."
Her eyes narrow at my tone. "Fine. Lead the way, Detective."
I guide her to my car, hyperaware of her scent now mixed with the other man. It's driving my bear crazy, making me want to erase any trace of the other man. I open the passenger door for her, then circle around to the driver's side.
"Who was he?"
"Who?" Dahlia asks, though her quickened pulse tells me she knows exactly what I'm asking.
"The man whose scent is all over you."
She stiffens beside me. "That's none of your business."
"It is when you're in danger and I'm responsible for keeping you alive,"
"It was just a hookup," she finally admits. "The lead singer of Exedra. Axl Valentine. I doubt he's even a shifter. It was just... a one-night thing and don't treat me like a child, I'm a fucking adult."
I don't push further, and soon my apartment comes into view. It is in an older building with good security and neighbors who mind their own business. Perfect for a cop who values privacy. I park in the underground garage and lead Dahlia to the elevator.
"Sixth floor," I say, pressing the button.
She stands as far from me as the small elevator allows. We arrive at the sixth floor in seconds, and I lead her down the hallway to my door, unlocking it and stepping aside to let her enter first.
My apartment is simple, and functional. A living room with a worn leather couch, a small kitchen, and a hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom. Nothing fancy, but it's clean and it's mine.
"It's... nice," Dahlia says, sounding surprised.
"What were you expecting, crime scene photos on the walls?"
The corner of her mouth twitches. "Maybe a board with pictures and red lines and some chalk outlines."
"Sorry to disappoint."
She wanders into the living room, examining the few personal items I have on display. A framed photo of my police academy graduation and carved wooden bear my father made.
"You should take a shower," I nod toward the hallway. "Bathroom's through there."
She raises an eyebrow. "Eager to get me naked, Detective?"
My bear stirs at her words, but I keep my expression neutral. "I'm eager to get that stink off you."
Her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't argue. "Fine. I could use a bath anyway."
"Towels are in the cabinet under the sink. Use whatever you need."
She nods and disappears down the hallway. A moment later, I hear water running. I drop onto the couch and rub my hands over my face, trying to ignore the fact that Dahlia is getting naked in my bathroom.
A scream from the bathroom sends me sprinting down the hallway. I burst through the door without knocking, ready to fight whatever threat has found us.
Instead, I find Dahlia alone in the tub, hands over her eyes, completely naked.
"What happened?" I look around the small room for danger.
"Soap," she groans. "There's soap in my eyes."
Fuck. I should leave. I should turn around and walk out. But I'm rooted at the spot, staring at her naked body partially hidden by bubbles. Her olive skin glistens with water, her full breasts just visible above the foam.
She blinks rapidly, then focuses on me standing in the doorway. "Enjoying the view, Detective?"
"I thought you were being attacked," I say gruffly, forcing my eyes to her face.
"Just by your shampoo." She leans back in the tub, seemingly unconcerned with her nudity. "Could I get some tea? My throat's sore from screaming at the concert."
"Tea. Right." I back out of the bathroom. "I'll make some."
In the kitchen, I put the kettle on and grip the counter, trying to regain control. The image of Dahlia naked in my tub is burned into my brain. I'm painfully hard, and my bear is clawing to get out, demanding I go back in there and claim what it considers ours.
When the tea is ready, I knock on the bedroom door.
"Come in," she calls.
I enter cautiously. She's sitting on the edge of my bed wrapped in my bathrobe. Her hair is damp, curling around her face, and her skin glows from the hot water.
"Tea," I say, holding out the mug.
"Thank you." Her fingers brush mine as she takes it.
I step back, putting distance between us. "I'll sleep on the couch."
"Don't be ridiculous," she says, patting the bed beside her. "This bed is huge. We can share."
"That's not a good idea."
"Why not? Are you afraid you can't control yourself around me?" She takes a sip of tea.
"Yes," I admit bluntly.
Her eyes widen slightly at my honesty. "Oh… who is this?" She nods toward a framed photo on my bedside table
"That's my sister, Tessa."
"She's beautiful. She looks like you around the eyes."
"She was," I say quietly. "The Crimson Plague took her two years ago."
Dahlia's teasing smile fades. "I'm so sorry, Leo."
"She was the first case I knew personally.
By the time they understood what was happening to her, it was too late.
" I sit down on the edge of the bed, keeping some space between us.
"She died in a lab, surrounded by scientists who wanted to use her as an experiment while her body tore itself apart. "
"That's why you don't trust researchers,"
I nod. "It's nothing personal."
"It feels pretty personal now." She sets her tea aside and pulls the bathrobe tighter around her. "Everything feels personal now."
She looks suddenly small, vulnerable. Not the fierce, brilliant scientist I've come to know.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Everything?
A week ago, I was Dr. Dahlia Baldwin, geneticist. Now I'm some rare Omega shifter with heat cycles that make me want to fuck every Alpha in sight.
I've had more sex in the past few days than in the last 5 years, and I barely recognize myself anymore. "
"It gets easier," I tell her. "Once you understand your body, you can learn to control it."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better? That someday I might not turn into a sex-crazed animal whenever an Alpha walks by?"
"You're still you," I say firmly. "Being an Omega doesn't change who you are. It's just another part of you. You will only be attracted to your alpha anyway."
She studies me for a long moment. "You know, for a grumpy bear, you can be surprisingly sweet."
"Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain."
That gets a genuine smile from her. "Your secret's safe with me, Detective."
The bathrobe slips from her shoulder, revealing the curve of her breast. Only her nipple remains covered, and my mouth goes dry at the sight.
She notices me staring and makes no move to fix it. "Do you want me, Leo?"
"Fuck," I swear, running a hand through my hair. "I can't."
"Why not?" she challenges. "You wanted me at the safe house."
"That was different."
"How?"
I don't have an answer that makes sense. It was different because I wasn't thinking clearly, and she was in heat.
"Come closer," she says softly.
Like I'm under a spell, I move toward her on the bed.
"Kiss me," she whispers.
I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't. But I lean in anyway, pressing my lips to hers in a gentle kiss. She tastes like the tea she just drank.
When I pull back, her eyes are dark with desire.
"See? The world didn't end," she murmurs.
"It might if we keep going,"
"Maybe I want it to." Her hand comes up to cup my cheek. "Maybe I'm tired of being careful."
I capture her wrist, feeling her pulse race beneath my fingers. "You don't know what you're asking for."
"I think I do." She leans in, her lips brushing my ear.
A growl escapes me before I can stop it. "Don't say that unless you mean it."
"I mean it." She pulls back to meet my eyes.
Those three words snap the last thread of my control. I surge forward, claiming her mouth in a kiss that's nothing like the gentle one we shared moments ago. This is hungry, desperate, and she matches me eagerly, her fingers tangling in my hair.