Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
maverick
I tapped my foot repeatedly while watching the small selection of security footage before Steven’s murder that our tech team sent over. Someone had looped it, so we couldn’t see a damn thing, but I was trying to see if anything out of the ordinary had happened.
I was supposed to be, anyway.
My mind was on one thing.
Cherries.
My office door opened and closed. Rhone’s scent stained the air, irritating the beast within me. Though our wolves weren’t separate entities from us, all weres reported feeling like they had two different parts.
One more animalistic, and one less so.
The beast, and the man. Or woman.
It was easier to refer to them separately at times, because the instincts tended to butt heads.
“You’re still watching this?” Rhone dropped into the chair across from my desk. Not the one that smelled like my female. I’d moved that one to my side, obviously.
“Haven’t gotten to the good part yet.”
Rhone leaned back. “You’re obsessing over the vampire again.”
“Anyone would.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t abducted her yet.”
Most male werewolves, upon fate forcing their hand, would take their mate back to their den kicking and screaming if they had to. It took about two weeks for sanity to return after realizing you were fated to someone. The pull was incredibly strong.
I was above that, of course.
But fantasizing about abduction anyway.
“Maybe I’m not interested,” I remarked.
Rhone lifted an eyebrow.
We both knew I was really fucking interested. I’d spent days trying not to be, and failed miserably.
But mating with a vampire was… complicated. As soon as I gave in to my urges and made her mine, Bloom would be a target. Even more than she already was.
I’d hoped I could erase the danger while she was locked in that apartment, but we still didn’t have a damn clue who the murderer was.
“Giving in to the obsession would be a bad idea right now.”
He bobbed his head once. “It would.”
“But she smells like cherries.”
“You and fucking cherries.”
We’d grown up in the same pack, with a cherry orchard to one side and an apple orchard on the other. Times had been simpler, then.
Before the war. The deaths. The losses.
I’d spent my childhood in the kitchen, making baked goods with my parents. We sold it all at the markets, and I learned the arts of charm, negotiation, and persuasion from the best: my mother.
“What would you do if fate handed you the perfect woman?” I asked.
Rhone scoffed. “Fate doesn’t match couples because they’re perfect together. She fucks with weres when she’s bored.”
He was old and jaded. Unlike me. Even though we were the same age.
“Humor me,” I said.
We both knew he wouldn’t just walk away. He was as obsessive as I was. It was one of the things that made us so damn good at our jobs. “I don’t know what I’d do. Ignore it, probably. I have no desire for a mate.”
“You never have.”
“Unlike you.” He studied me.
I didn’t deny it. He’d see through any denial.
Rone stretched his legs out in front of him. “At least your vampire’s not the murderer.”
I liked the sound of that.
My vampire.
She was mine. That wasn’t up for debate.
He snagged a peppermint candy from the bowl in the corner of my desk. It was only there for him.
“You can fight the pull if you have more things with her scent on them. I heard one of the enforcers talking about it a few years back.” He paused. “Maybe a few decades back.”
“The clothes I took from her have helped a little. I could take more. Or I could take her.”
Rhone was unsurprised. “I knew you were thinking about it. You just let her go. At least wait until fate’s pull fades.”
That would be the better call.
Mating with a vampire would affect my pack, so not jumping in until my mind was clear would be safer for everyone involved. And a lot of people who weren’t involved.
I dragged a hand through my hair. Patience was not one of my strong suits. It would still be another week before the pull faded completely, and I was barely suppressing the urge to abduct the woman.
“You’ll survive,” Rhone said.
“Fine. I’ll try to wait a week.”
“Longer before you bite her again. At least a month.”
“Fuck that.”
“You know how many people are going to challenge you if you claim her in any way, Mav It’s going to be a big deal.”
“They’re going to challenge me just for wanting her. Biting won’t change anything.”
“That doesn’t mean you should do it.”
I itched to seal the bond. I could envision it clearly—sinking my teeth into that pretty little throat all over again.
I’d take it slower this time.
Make sure she enjoyed it.
Unless my obsession faded when the pull toward her ended, of course. Which seemed like an impossibility.
Rhone grunted.”You need a fucking chaperone. I should stay with you so you’re never alone with her.”
“You’ve got too much shit to do.”
“Yeah. What are we going to do about the murders?”
“I’m not thinking clearly enough at the moment to have a good answer for that.”
“You only need to survive another week.”
I nodded.
One more week of not making her mine. I could handle that.
Probably.
Until then, I just needed to give in to instinct enough to keep my animalistic side satisfied.