Chapter 7
When the Past Comes Back to Haunt You
Harper
“Not a morning person?” I ask.
Dodger gives me a stony look and pointedly puts in his headphones, ignoring me as we walk to get breakfast.
It’s going to be a long day. That always seems to be the case around him.
But this time, it’s my own damn fault.
I’ve chosen Moonbeam Bakery for breakfast, a place known for its levitating pancake stacks, these gravity-defying flapjacks topped with star-shaped butter that actually twinkles.
It’s the kind of place that makes Concordia special, the kind of experience someone who’s been trapped inside hiding out deserves to enjoy.
I thought Dodger might appreciate the whimsy, but when we arrive, he barely glances at the menu before jabbing his finger at the first item listed. “I’ll get this to go,” he says flatly. “I’d rather eat in my room.”
Then he heads outside while I handle ordering.
Things had been going so well after the carnival last night. The way his eyes lit up at the magical concert and the music in the air, the slight curve of his lips that he tried to hide when I won the music box for him. And then the happy song it played. I swear I heard that song in my dreams.
Then I ruined everything.
When he leaned in for that kiss at the end of the night, I backed away.
The rational part of my brain insists I did the right thing.
The whole ‘mates’ revelation had clearly thrown him for a loop and seemed to freak him out.
He’s also afraid for his safety and trying to gain control over his abilities.
Dodger already has enough to worry about without adding my feelings or expectations into the mix. The last thing he needs is romance. Not with a wolf over a decade older than him who’s drawn to his smell and can’t stop thinking about him.
Ever since I Recognized him, I can’t get him out of my mind. But that’s not why I’m here. I’m supposed to protect him.
That doesn’t mean I wasn’t tempted to kiss him. God, was I tempted.
I’d wanted nothing more than to pull him close, to discover if he tasted as intoxicating as he smelled, like autumn leaves and midnight air. My wolf had practically howled with desire, clawing at my insides, demanding I claim what was mine. But the human side of me knows better than to rush this.
I pay for the food, juggling two coffee cups and a brown paper bag that’s already developing grease spots as I push through the door of the bakery.
Outside, Dodger leans against the brick wall, headphones firmly in place as his fingers tap an invisible rhythm against his thigh. When he spots me, he straightens and snatches his coffee from me. “Let’s go.”
He charges ahead, leaving me to follow in his wake like some unwanted shadow. The wolf in me whines, wanting to close that gap, to make things right.
But I can’t. I did the right thing, I remind myself again. This is the right choice. For now.
After Dodger is safe and understands his powers, when nobody is after him and he can do what he wants and go where he wants, then if he still chooses to be around me and is interested, then maybe…
No. I’m not going to get my hopes up. I’m going to focus on what Dodger needs right now. What I want—getting to know my mate and making him happy—will have to wait.
~
Dodger
Mornings always suck and this one is no exception. Why did I bother getting up?
My brain is still operating at about ten percent capacity after only getting a few sips of caffeine.
The indie rock playlist trickling through my earbuds isn’t doing much to improve my mood as I trudge alongside Detective Golden Wolf, who catches up to me easily and looks annoyingly alert despite the early hour.
Harper carries our breakfast in a grease-stained paper bag, the smell making my empty stomach growl. I’m keeping my distance from him, though.
After last night’s almost-kiss debacle, I have no idea what to make of this wolf who supposedly thinks we’re destined mates but then jerks away like I’ve got the plague when I lean in to close the distance between us. Mixed signals much?
“Watch your step.” Harper’s arm shoots out in front of me. I run right into it but stop short before the puddle I was about to step in.
“Thanks,” I mutter, but he’s already continuing down the street, putting distance between us like I might try to kiss him again if he lingers too close.
As if.
I take a swig of my coffee, which is still too hot and burns my tongue. Perfect. Just perfect.
The streets of Concordia feel different in the morning light, more subdued. The morning air carries the smell of bread baking in stone ovens and herbs being hung to dry.
Harper glances back, making sure I’m still following, and I catch a flash of those golden eyes before he turns away again.
The guy is impossible to read. One minute he’s all protective alpha wolf, looking at me like I’m something precious, the next he’s keeping his distance like I might bite.
Though technically, he’s the one with fangs.
I take another sip of my coffee, finally cooling enough to drink properly, and feel my brain kick into a slightly higher gear. Much as he deserves the silent treatment, it isn’t getting us anywhere.
I work up my nerve as we approach the hotel. I’m not some shy teenager with a crush. I’m a necromancer who can literally raise the dead. In theory, though that really isn’t the area where my innate powers are concentrated. Still, I can handle one conversation with an overgrown dog.
“Harper,” I start, pulling out my earbud as we reach the hotel entrance. “About last night—”
Harper suddenly stiffens beside me, his body going rigid. At first I think he’s reacting to me and I nearly tell him to grow up, isn’t he supposed to be mature since he’s a hundred years older than I am? Then his arm shoots out, blocking my path and pushing me back from the entrance.
“What the hell?” There’s definitely no puddle on the mat before the double doors of the hotel entrance.
The wolf shakes his head, just slightly, his jaw tight and eyes intense. They never stray, tracking something in the hotel, and something in his posture makes the words die in my throat, a tension that screams danger.
And then I hear it—a voice that sends ice water rushing through my veins.
“Detective Harper! Good to see you.”
My heart stops dead in my chest before lurching into overdrive.
My feet move on autopilot, stumbling back and hiding behind a parked car just in time.
A mature gentleman in an elegant suit strolls through the doors to greet Harper.
He looks respectable and important but wears a friendly smile and shakes the detective’s hand like he’s catching up with an old friend.
Every muscle in my body locks up as I recognize Asher Rowan. The man who isn’t nearly as respectable as he pretends to be. He tried to keep me prisoner. He’s the reason I faked my death.
Rowan is here. In Concordia. Where I’m supposed to be safe and far away from who’s chasing me.
My lungs seem to have forgotten how to work, and a cold sweat breaks out across my forehead. This can’t be happening. He can’t be here.
“Chief Rowan,” Harper greets, shock bleeding through his controlled tone. “I wasn’t expecting to see you in Concordia. Are you staying at the hotel?”
“No, I was hoping to catch you here. I’m in the city while attending a law enforcement conference nearby. I thought I’d check in on the Williamson case personally. You’ve been rather... sparse with the details about this new evidence you’re pursuing.”
My stomach twists. The Williamson case. Me.
I risk a glance around the dark SUV hiding me. The asshole stands there in his immaculate suit, black hair perfectly combed, looking completely at ease. The jerk must dye his hair or possibly even wear makeup since it’s hard to tell just by looking at him that he’s in his early sixties.
“Just following procedure, sir,” Harper replies neutrally but I can see the tension in his shoulders. “I’m working through the Concordia agency now. Still verifying sources before filing an official report.”
“Of course, of course. But you know how seriously we treat dark magic back home.” Dark magic? What a dick. “As your chief, I’d appreciate being kept in the loop.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Excellent, let’s set something up.” Rowan checks the ostentatious pocket watch he keeps in the breast pocket of his suit as they make arrangements to meet later.
As they finish up their conversation, I back up carefully, trying to put some distance between us since I don’t know which direction Rowan’s going.
Once I get far enough, I pivot on my heels and bolt down the street, my surroundings blurring around me.
I just need to get away. I duck into a dimly lit shop with high shelves and hide in the back.
My heart thunders violently against my chest, pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat, and my fingers tremble uncontrollably. Just when it felt safe to come out of hiding and trust that my problems were far enough away, trouble comes knocking at my door, right to my hotel.
Rowan is in the city where I’m hiding. What does he want? Does he suspect something?
Does it even matter? I’m not safe here anymore.
I have to leave. Now.
Disappearing Act
Dodger
Harper eventually texts me and tells me it’s safe to return to the hotel.
I have no idea what I say to him or what he thinks about Rowan’s arrival.
I get back into my room and start packing.
It feels like I just unpacked and now I’m already packing everything back up.
Maybe that’s because we had to switch rooms after Harper broke down the door.
Or maybe it’s because I finally felt like I could breathe. Like things were going right. But not anymore.