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Secret of the Wolf Page 11


  He met her gaze. “Hopefully one of these days I won’t want to slip your hook.”

  She clapped a hand over her heart. “I can only live in hope.”

  “Smartass.”

  Her grin chased the lingering hurt from her eyes and made the humor genuine.

  Glad he could restore her normal upbeat mood, Dante gave her a wink and turned his attention back to the device. “Is there anything on the schematics about what this port is for?” he asked, pointing at the connector.

  “No. I don’t think so, anyway.” Tori pushed back her chair. “I’ll get it so you can take a look, just in case I missed something.” She returned in under a minute and placed the document on the table. Once unfolded, the paper was roughly three feet by three feet wide.

  Dante leaned over. “Okay, so this is a microcontroller, not a microprocessor. That would explain why I’m not seeing any other chips.” His finger followed the lines drawn on the schematics.

  “English, please.”

  He glanced at her. “I thought you were up on this.”

  “I know radios. Communications. Not computers.” She shot him a dry look. “Why do you think Tobias asked you to help me?”

  “Right.” He pointed toward the chip. “This little guy has the core processor and memory, possibly some RAM. That’s one of the ways they could make this device so small, to have it all on one chip.” He studied the schematics. “It doesn’t look like there’s anything like a GPS, so that should mean the device’s location can’t be electronically tracked by anyone. Okay. So this little doohickey is a transceiver, right? It can transmit and receive messages.”

  “Right.”

  “So maybe this port”—Dante tapped his finger on the corresponding spot on the diagram—“is to hook up to some kind of external memory? Or a power source of some kind? Or maybe it’s for a transponder. Something to amplify or retransmit the signal on a different frequency.” He looked at Tori. “What do you think?”

  “I think we’re missing some schematics is what I think.” Frustration colored her tone. “If all this does is send and receive radio waves, why would they need external memory? And so far it hasn’t seemed to need charging.”

  “Have you had it on much?”

  She shook her head. “Just a few times. And I shut it off almost right away because that guy always asks me for the damned password.” She picked it up. “If this port does go to a transponder, why would they need one? The reception on this thing is just fine.”

  Dante sighed and leaned back in his chair. Lifting one hand, he rubbed the nape of his neck and then glanced at his watch. “Aw, hell. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

  Tori grabbed his wrist to see the time. “It’s only just after one A.M.”

  “Lily and I are taking the horses out early, before it gets too hot. Once I go back to work Monday—well, tomorrow, I guess, since it’s so late—I won’t have much of a chance to ride until next weekend.” He started reassembling the device and fought back the urge to haul her into his arms. Just the feel of those delicate fingers on his wrist had made him want them wrapped around another, needier part of his anatomy. Keep things light. “I need my beauty sleep.” He dropped one lid in a wink.

  Her bark of laughter ended with a snort. “You get any prettier there, and we might just have to slap a dress on you.”

  “I’ve got the legs for it.” He grinned at her eye roll.

  “Since you’re playing so hard to get,” she said with a sidelong glance, “I guess I’ll have to take your word for that.”

  He flashed her another grin and handed her the device, taking care to let it drop into her palm so he wouldn’t touch her. He watched while she wrapped it up in plastic and then returned it to the canister, shoving it deep and moving stuff around before she replaced the lid.

  “Flour,” she said as she turned around, her fingers coated with white powder. She rinsed off her hand and dried it on a dish towel lying on the counter. She swiped the towel over the surface, wiping up flour that had spilled. “Rand doesn’t cook, so there’s no reason for him to look there.”

  “Does he know you have it?”

  She didn’t answer him right away. Instead, she fiddled, straightening canisters that didn’t need straightening. Finally she murmured, “He may have seen it.” She muttered something else he didn’t catch.

  “Hey, one of us doesn’t have preternatural hearing. What’d you just say?”

  She sent him a little glower. “I said he found it in my bedroom.” She went into the dining room and scooped up the schematics, folding them into a square that was roughly the size of his palm.

  Dante stood. “What, you just happened to leave it lyin’ around on your bed?”

  Tori frowned. “No.” She looked away and went back into the kitchen. “I had it in the toe of one of my hiking boots. Be right back,” she said over her shoulder as she walked down the hallway.

  Dante waited until she returned, empty-handed, before he said, “So he was snoopin’.” He leaned one hip against the table and folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe your house isn’t the safest place to hide this thing.”

  She sighed. “It’s safer here where I can keep an eye on it. Besides, he doesn’t know what it is.”

  “You sure about that?” Dante walked into the kitchen. “What if he does? What if he tells someone you have it?” He put his hands on her shoulders. “You’re not safe with that thing here. Let me take it.”

  “And do what with it? Keep it at your house? With your sister? If it’s not safe here, it wouldn’t be safe there, either.” She shook her head. “It’s okay. Rand won’t find it again.”

  “I have a gun safe in my bedroom. I could at least lock it up.”

  “And that’d probably be the first place someone would look. Besides, your sister is there by herself during the day.” She shook her head again. “I don’t want to put her in danger.”

  He bit back a sigh. She was right. He couldn’t take the device home and put Lily in harm’s way. He dropped his hands and took a few steps away. “We’re assuming someone would know I have it.” He blew out a breath. “Do you trust him?”

  “Rand?” Her brow furrowed. “He’s my brother,” she said as if that explained everything.

  “That doesn’t answer my question.” He braced himself with one hand on the counter. “Do you trust him?”

  Her lips thinned. Something flickered in her eyes before she responded with a soft, “Yes. I trust him.”

  “All right. That’s good enough for me.” It would have to be. He’d trust her judgment until it was proven faulty. With a flick of his wrist he checked his watch again. “I really gotta go.”

  They started toward the front of the house. “Thanks for the pie,” Dante said. “You’re a good cook.”

  “Well, I don’t know about my cooking,” she rejoined with a smile, “but my baking skills are pretty good.”

  “Damned good.” He paused by the front door. Now that it was time to go, he wasn’t sure what to say. Before he’d gotten on the Special Case squad, and before Lily’s life had fallen apart, he’d give the woman he was with a good-night kiss. Hell, he’d probably be giving her a good-morning kiss after a hotter than hell night. But he had to keep his hands off Tori for now. Get the job done and maybe in another year or two he could make some time for a relationship. He hoped she’d wait. Maybe he could shave that down to six months. “Uh, thanks for the pie,” he said again, then felt like an idiot for repeating himself.

  Her smile widened. “You’re welcome.”

  “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  “Most likely.” Humor sparkled in her eyes, making him realize she was laughing at him.

  Dante let it go. After his vacillations tonight he deserved to be laughed at. He probably deserved a slap, but what he got was humor and pie. She was a hell of a woman. As he reached the door, he heard her say, “Oh, wait a minute.” He pulled his hand back just as the door swung open and a startled young m
an stood in the opening.

  “I heard him at the door,” she said to Dante. “This is my brother Randall.” Tori put a hand on the guy’s shoulder. “Rand, this is my colleague Dante MacMillan.”

  At the word “colleague” Dante felt something—hurt? disappointment?—slash through him. But he had only himself to blame. Sure, they were just starting to really get to know each other, but he’d at least thought they could call themselves friends.

  Dante eyeballed the guy. He looked like the type who would snoop through someone else’s things. Taller than Dante had expected, he had shifty eyes and a nervous quality that piqued Dante’s interest. Randall’s skin was baby smooth with a light dusting of hair on his arms. The hair on his head was as dark as Tori’s, cut in a marine style with buzzed-cut sides, and slightly longer hair on top.

  “You’re human.” Randall’s voice came out flat, his British accent full of disdain.

  Tori’s brother was apparently a bigoted jerk. Dante was always surprised when people showed their prejudice, whether it was over the color of someone’s skin, their religion, or species. “Yep. Sure am.” He hooked his thumbs over his belt and rocked back on his heels. “And you’re a werewolf, like your sister.”

  “Sure am.” The younger man tried and failed to mimic Dante’s drawl. He crossed his arms, then uncrossed them, repeating the process a few times before he left them folded over his chest. “So you work with my sister?”

  “I’m on the Special Case squad assigned to her district.” Dante could tell by his demeanor that Randall really wasn’t interested, but if he wanted to put on a good face for his sister, Dante was willing to oblige. “We work cases together when there’s a werewolf involved.”

  “How nice for you.” Randall dropped his arms against his sides and drummed the fingers of one hand against his leg. “Are you a wannabe?”

  “Sorry?” What the hell was the kid talking about now?

  “Do you want to be a preternatural when you grow up?” A pronounced sneer lifted Randall’s upper lip.

  “Rand.” Tori’s voice was hard.

  Dante frowned. “Not particularly,” he said in answer to her brother’s question.

  The sneer turned to a scowl and Randall’s brows drew down over darkening eyes. “So you think you’re too good to be one of us?”

  “That’s not what I said.” The guy was apparently itching for a fight, and under other circumstances Dante might be willing to get into it with him. But not with Tori looking like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. Dante glanced at his watch again and said to her, “Listen, I really have to be going.” To Randall, he said, “It was nice to meet you.”

  “Yeah, nice to meet you, too,” Randall muttered, his tone suggesting he felt the exact opposite of his words. He pushed past his sister. “I’m going to bed.”

  “I was surprised you weren’t here when I got home,” Tori said. Her brother stopped and turned toward her. She added, “You weren’t interested in going out earlier.”

  His blue eyes narrowed slightly. “I didn’t want to go out with you. There’s a difference.”

  Dante saw the hurt flare in Tori’s eyes while embarrassment colored her cheeks. He wasn’t going to stand by and let Randall talk to her like that, even if the little pip-squeak was her brother. “What’s your problem, buddy?”

  Randall scrubbed his hand over the top of his head. With the rebellious streak the young wolf had, Dante was surprised at the military cut of his hair. He would have expected a longer style and a cigarette hanging out of one side of his mouth, especially since shapeshifters’ bodies healed too fast for them to be bothered with pesky diseases like those from which humans suffered. Lung cancer would be of no concern to him.

  “My problem, buddy, is that you think you’re too good to be one of us, but it’s apparently all right for you to screw my sister.” Her brother’s eyes went from blue to wolf-amber in the span of a heartbeat.

  “Rand!” Tori put a hand on his chest when he started toward Dante. “That’s enough. He’s not…we haven’t…” Anger was beginning to flare in her voice and on her face, but he could tell she was more embarrassed than anything. “And, anyway, it’s none of your business if we were.”

  Randall’s lips curled back, revealing canines that looked remarkably long. And sharp.

  Dante broadened his stance, preparing for a fight. He’d never duked it out with a werewolf so he wasn’t so sure how he’d fare, but he wasn’t going to back down just because the guy was a pret.

  “Rand, stop it, right now.” Tori put herself between the two of them, her hands on their chests. When she glanced toward Dante, he saw her eyes held the same amber glow as her brother’s. “You, too, Dante.”

  He raised his brows. “I’m only defendin’ myself.”

  “I know what you’re doing. Stupid, macho…” Her mutters trailed off as she glared at her brother. “And you…you should know better.”

  “I’m just trying to look out for you.”

  The look on Tori’s face told Dante she knew that wasn’t exactly true. It was clear he had a thing about humans. When her brother didn’t budge, she let out a low growl that raised the hair on the back of Dante’s neck.

  Randall threw up his hands. “Fine. Whatever. You do whatever the hell you want to. You always do. I can see where your loyalties lie.” With one final glower at Dante, her brother turned and went to his room, slamming the door behind him.

  “What is he, fourteen?” Dante glanced at Tori, glad to see her eyes slowly return to normal. That growl she’d given had been like something out of a movie. Deep, gravelly, and a clear warning of danger. He was damned happy it hadn’t been directed at him.

  She sighed and lifted her shoulders. “I’m so sorry about that. I guess it’s his way of protecting me.” Her expression lightened for a moment and she seemed pleased by her assessment. “He’s always been a little…high-strung. He’ll get over it.”

  Dante could almost hear her unspoken “I hope.” He worried that he might have made things worse between the two siblings. That was the last thing he wanted to do, to make Tori choose between her brother and him.

  He had a hard time believing the guy was a werewolf, as juvenile as he seemed. He came across as hostile but harmless. Plus, with all the fidgeting, Dante sensed that Randall was nervous and not at all confident like his sister. “What he said…” Dante held her gaze. “It’s not true. I don’t think I’m better than you.”

  “Oh, I know that. And despite what Rand may have led you to believe, being a pret is not a be-all-to-end-all. We have issues, too.”

  No kidding. Dante ran into plenty of issue-laden preternaturals on his job. All the time. But right now specifically…

  “Like brothers who are ungrateful little bastards, right?” Dante looked down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

  He wanted to teach the little runt a lesson. Something he’d probably never get the chance to do. Besides, Tori was a grown woman. It was her decision on the direction she wanted her relationship with her brother to go. If she wanted Randall to stay with her badly enough, which Dante suspected was the case, she’d probably end up taking more crap from him than she’d ever take from anyone else on the planet.

  Including Dante.

  That was a sobering thought, and yet another reason why the timing wasn’t right. For either of them.

  He drew in a breath and exhaled. “So, for the third time, I’ll see you later.”

  She nodded. “Drive safe.” Her green eyes were big and dark, serious.

  He bent closer and whispered as low as he could, “Find a better hiding place,” and then pressed a kiss against her satiny cheek, hesitating, wanting more than anything to move his mouth just an inch or so to those luscious lips. But he restrained himself and instead drew in a breath, holding her scent in his lungs for a brief moment. “Good night,” he murmured and turned away.

  As he walked to his truck he thought about her brother and that hot temper he had. Little shit.
Tori was a saint to put up with all of that snark. The guy needed an attitude adjustment and Dante wished he was able to give it to him, but he knew once Randall brought out the fangs and claws, Dante’s chances of adjusting anything would be slim to none. Even having a gun loaded with silver bullets.

  Not that he wanted to shoot Tori’s brother. Doing that would ruin the friendship they had built and do a hell of a job putting the brakes on anything romantic between them.

  Damn it. Things got complicated way too fast around here.

  Chapter Nine

  Tori felt like she’d just gotten to sleep when her cell phone rang. She grabbed it from the nightstand and peered at the screen, her vision blurry. The time display read five thirty. “Hello,” she answered.

  “It’s Ash.” The gravelly voice of the werewolf liaison from District Four came over the line. “Sorry to wake you, I thought you’d be up already.”

  “It’s okay. What’s going on?” She rubbed her eyes, trying to wipe away the remnants of slumber.

  “There’s been another attack up here. I thought you’d want to know.”

  She struggled to a sitting position. “When?”

  “The ME estimates TOD around midnight. The crime scene techs just opened the scene, so I’m doing my initial walk-through.”

  “He killed this one instead of turning him?” That didn’t make sense. “Maybe it’s a different attacker.”

  “How likely is it that we have two rogue werewolves attacking people?” His voice went dry. “Besides, there were two victims. The man was killed; the woman survived and most likely was turned. We’ll know for sure in another couple of hours.”

  “Any clues at the scene?”

  He sighed. She could picture the frustrated look on his face. “No, damn it. He’s a clever bastard. Same MO, bleach used on the bodies so there’s no DNA. There were a couple tufts of fur left at the scene, but they’re soaked in bleach and ammonia, too, so no help there. It’s like he’s a fucking ghost. Pardon my language.”