Chapter 1
Over a decade later…
The pungent scent of burning wood and plastic filled Dashiell Keller’s nose as he exited his sedan.
He straightened his black suit jacket and tie, surveying what was left of the apartment building.
Thin wisps of black smoke rose high above.
The fire still smoldered. Heat radiated from it—not a massive, crushing wave, but a soft caress to tell you it was still there, still clinging in hopes of roaring to life once more.
Inside, he noticed two men climbing over the remnants, examining things as they went. He marched closer, expecting a fight to come. One of those men was Harrison Walker, the arson investigator for the province—and the man he’d been charged with protecting.
As he neared, one of the men strode over, hand raised in warning. “This is a crime scene. I have to ask you to back up.”
After a quick scan of the man’s uniform, he noticed the embroidered ‘Walker’ on his deep blue firefighter’s uniform. He opened his mouth but closed it a second later when an identical man, in an identical uniform, stepped out of the charred husk of a building.
Dash had done some quick homework on Harrison Walker after he’d been hired the night before. He’d learned enough to know Harrison had a ridiculous number of siblings, including a twin brother, Emerson. But which one was which?
The one who’d stopped him had a patch that read ‘Arson Investigator’ under his name. He scanned the second man. His gaze landed on ‘Lt. Captain’, so he knew that wasn’t his guy.
So why did Dash’s gaze linger way too long on the wrong Walker? He had to force it back while reaching for a card from the inner pocket of his suit jacket.
“I’m your security detail.”
“Security?” Emerson Walker asked, barking with laughter.
Dash’s gaze whipped to Emerson before he handed the business card to Harrison.
“Under whose authority?” Harrison snatched the card.
“Quinn McCreary hired us to protect you, Mr. Kellum, and Mr. Springdale.”
Harrison read Dash’s business card.
Dash’s gaze strayed to Emerson again. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes from Emerson’s notice, thankfully, but Dash couldn’t seem to stop looking in the alpha’s direction. From the way Emerson stared back, hunger in his eyes, it seemed they might have the same problem.
That wasn’t good.
Emerson’s gaze traveled down to Dash’s feet. Any humor left in his eyes was replaced with what seemed like interest by the time they lifted back up to Dash’s.
Fuuuuuuck. Not happening, alpha. Look somewhere else.
Harrison handed the card back, his face twisted in disgust. “I don’t need a security detail. Focus on Cassidy and Raimy.”
All alphas were the same. They thought they could protect themselves and didn’t need any help from anyone. Harrison wasn’t the first one to refuse his service.
Quinn was his client, though, and until he was told to stand down, he wasn’t standing down.
“The job was to protect all three of you,” Dash said.
As he spoke to Harrison, his gaze was once again drawn where it shouldn’t go. Emerson stared at him with an intensity that made it hard to think straight. Dash struggled for his next breath. His body tensed, the flight or fight instinct raging within.
Yet, at the very same time, the need to drop to his knees at Emerson Walker’s feet demanded his full attention. He felt lightheaded, his mouth somehow both dry and wet at the same time.
Harrison crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side. “I don’t need a security detail.”
Dash’s skill of persuasion was off-kilter, considering he was struggling with a strange reaction to another alpha. It wasn’t a fair fight. He couldn’t handle both.
Just breathe.
He regretted breathing the second an oaky, spicy scent filled his lungs. It mixed with the aroma of what the fire left behind, fueling a fire of his own within. One of the alphas was putting off some thick pheromones, and he knew which Walker it was.
“I’ll hang back, out of your way,” Dash said, his voice sounding odd to his own ears.
The scent deepened, enough to nearly mask the aroma of burned wood and plastic. As it deepened, Dash’s cock thickened. Sweat beaded on his brow and the back of his neck, his chest rising too quickly.
What the actual fuck?
“You can go back and watch the apartment,” Harrison snapped.
Under normal circumstances, Dash would’ve convinced Harrison to let him stay. Given his odd reaction, Dash nodded instead. He spun; thankful he had a reason to walk away and hide the growing erection tenting his pants. Shame warmed his face as he returned to his car and slid behind the wheel.
Get me the fuck out of here…
Dash turned the engine on, demanding his gaze not return to Emerson.
Somehow, he managed to hold it together enough to pull out onto the road.
As soon as he was far enough away that he was out of sight of the twin Walkers, he pulled onto the shoulder and tossed his car into park.
He lifted his shaking hands off the steering wheel and eyed them.
Hopefully neither man had seen his reaction.
He drew in a couple of deep breaths to calm his racing heart.
Sitting in the silence inside his car, he continued to breathe steadily—until the ringing in his ears died down. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to go home, but he’d been hired to guard Harrison and that’s exactly what he was going to do.
He’d noticed an overlook on his way down the winding road. The hilltop with a copse of trees would be perfect to hide him from view, so he’d headed there. He navigated through the hills until he reached a dirt road used by the utility company.
Dash snagged his camera with a powerful telephoto lens.
Dash didn’t need photos, but he could see like an eagle with that thing—and practically be beside Harrison without the man knowing.
He crept through the thickly wooded lot, the scent of pine overwhelming as he brushed against the thick fir trees that dominated the top of the hillside.
Between them were spindly trees, their dark, bare branches lifted toward the gray sky above.
Dash froze when he noticed movement not too far from him.
Glancing through the trees, he found a lone man standing at the hilltop, hefting a large pair of binoculars aimed down. The only thing at the bottom of the hill was the crime scene—and the two alphas investigating it.
A building assumed to have been torched by the serial arsonist.
Dash walked closer. He moved slowly, trying not to signal his presence. Silence was preferable but wasn’t an option, not with the ground obscured by fallen leaves, twigs, and branches. They crackled and crunched underfoot as he neared.
He needed a clearer view.
He couldn’t get too close. Otherwise, he’d be overheard.
As soon as he found a break in the trees with a decent view, Dash lifted the camera and snapped a few shots.
The binoculars lowered. The man’s head swung in Dash’s direction, as if he’d heard him.
Dash dropped to his knee, holding his breath.
Peeking through the brush hiding him, he snapped a couple more shots, but just a few, scared the sound might carry.
Seconds dragged by. The man finally turned back to gaze down the hill and Dash could breathe again.
Who would watch arson investigators at work?
Best guess? The one who’d set the fires, though perhaps he was a journalist… or a resident of the building maybe? Something told him that wasn’t the case, though. His gut had saved his ass too many times in the past to ignore it—and the man’s presence was sending up major red flags.
Dash got a few more snaps off before turning his camera to face down the hill, moving his lens to the approximate angle of the binoculars. Maybe there was something else down there he’d not noticed before.
Harrison Walker strode into view.
He swept the camera both left and right, searching around the building, but he didn’t see anything else. There was a park on the opposite side of the building, but he couldn’t see it from his vantage point. Dash floated the lens back to where Harrison had been standing and caught his twin instead.
His gaze washed over Emerson, his heartbeat quickening. The guy moved with a quiet grace unexpected for an alpha of his size. Dash was fairly average height for an alpha at six-six. Emerson was bigger, yet big wasn’t the right word to describe him.
Emerson was massive. Had to be at least seven feet and firmly muscled—but not overly so. The kind earned from hard work, lifting heavy hoses, and carrying people out of burning buildings. The image of the alpha carrying him out of a fire planted itself in his head.
Total hero worship kind of stuff.
Dash released a slow breath, his gaze drifting up and down Emerson’s hard body. Even compared to his twin brother, he seemed larger than life. Dash thought he’d noticed a slight difference in height between the two, so perhaps they weren’t identical identical, even if their faces appeared the same.
He questioned that, though, too, because Harrison’s face didn’t make him…
Didn’t make me what?
Shoving the thought from his mind, Dash’s finger quivered over the button. Another photo was accidentally added to the cache. Lowering his camera, he turned his attention back to where it belonged—the stranger watching the man he was supposed to be protecting.
The stranger spun in Dash’s direction and walked closer to the trees. Dash dropped again, hiding himself in the underbrush once more. As the man neared, he got a better view of who it was, and his breath caught.
Charles Macklin?
Is he…? Dash’s eyes widened. Oh fuck…