Midnight Kiss: Tales of the Were (Were-Fey Love Story Book 3) Read online

  “I’m sure she’d be intrigued to meet you too,” he replied.

  From that point on, the meeting was commandeered by Trevor, who had a series of instructions for Gabe and Margo regarding how and where they would meet up with his operative, Ezra. John and Urse got up to get some breakfast and brought it back to the table while Trevor was outlining the plan, which involved a stop in Idaho to pick up two Harley Davidsons then a trek down to Nevada.

  “Why such a circuitous route?” Margo asked Trevor once the somewhat complex travel plan had been laid out.

  “Well, you could try to fly in, but there aren’t even any good dirt airstrips near where he plans to meet you, and you’ll need the bikes if you want to ride with him,” Trevor advised them. “If you’d been combat troops, I’d have advised a drop, but as things stand, this is probably the best way to get you all together.”

  “A drop?” Margo asked, though Gabe suspected he already knew what the bear shifter had in mind.

  “Ever done any recreational parachuting?” Trevor asked Margo with a wolfish grin, which was something for a bear shifter to accomplish, but he pulled it off.

  Margo backed off from the table a bit. “No. To be honest, I’ve never understood why anyone would want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane.”

  Her tone was challenging, but Gabe knew from their flight out how much Margo disliked airplanes. She’d fly if she had to, but he couldn’t imagine her going up in a plane just for fun. And jumping out? Well, she might have the guts for it, but he didn’t think she was a thrill-seeker on her days off from chasing down mysteries.

  The bear shifters laughed at her quip, not in the least fazed by her words.

  “I agree with you,” Urse told Margo, sharing a moment of female solidarity. “And you don’t even want to know what these guys do with helicopters.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Gabe sat on his Harley and enjoyed the view. Margo was slightly ahead of him as they sped down the open highway. She looked like a teenage Gabe’s wet dream, straddling her own motorcycle with authority.

  They’d turned in the rental car at an airport in Idaho, paying the extra fee for not returning it to its point of origin, then taken a taxi to a Harley Davidson dealership a few miles away. Two bikes had been waiting there for them. They weren’t brand new models, but used bikes that were in top condition and had the look of being well-used and well-loved.

  Gabe wasn’t sure if they were loaners from some of Trevor’s seemingly-endless contacts or if they’d been purchased just for this purpose. Either way, he didn’t ask questions as the salesman at the dealership handed them over and wished them luck on their journey. Gabe let Margo deal with the guy, since he was a shifter. In fact, everyone in the dealership had tasted of shifter magic to Gabe’s senses.

  But Trevor had paved the way, and there were no questions asked, even if a few eyebrows were raised at Gabe’s presence. They had to realize he wasn’t a shifter, but it was clear they recognized Margo’s dominance.

  Gabe had been impressed with the way she handled the big machine. It was pretty clear she’d driven a bike before. As had he. Trevor hadn’t bothered to ask if they could handle motorcycles, he’d just assumed competence. Luckily, he’d been right. Both Margo and Gabe had the necessary licenses when the salesman asked to see them.

  Come to think of it, maybe Trevor had done background checks, which would have brought up the licenses. Yeah, that had to be it. Those bears had seemed way too accepting of both he and Margo. They’d probably done their own investigation before they’d decided to accept the vampire’s introduction. It was only the prudent thing to do. Gabe should have realized it before. No way were those bear shifters setting up their own town and not screening everyone they dealt with to some extent.

  The trip so far had been pretty amazing. The first day had been the longest. They’d taken the rented four-wheel drive vehicle from the coast of Washington, down into Oregon and then across to the suburbs of Boise, Idaho. It had taken all day, and when they checked into their hotel after dark, they were both exhausted.

  Not too exhausted, though. They shared a room…and a bed, making love gently before falling asleep in each other’s arms. They woke only when Gabe’s phone rang with the alarm he’d set the night before. They had a meeting at the local motorcycle shop that morning, and they didn’t want to be late. Trevor had worked out their itinerary down to the last detail, and Gabe saw no reason not to go along with it.

  They picked up the bikes then stopped at a big box store to outfit themselves and fill their saddlebags with supplies. The weather was colder at elevation, and there was snow on the ground in many places. Margo, being from Canada, was in her element, but Gabe had needed to get some warmer clothes to layer under his jacket. Luckily, he’d taken his fleece-lined bomber jacket with him to Pennsylvania and then to Washington. It would suffice for motorcycle wear and looked lived in, which it was. It bent in all the right places and had been Gabe’s go-to jacket for the past couple of years.

  Margo opted to buy a new leather jacket, which they decided wouldn’t look odd since women usually liked to have new stuff and look good. Gabe had no doubt Margo looked damn good in that leather. She’d opted for chaps over warm pants with thermal leggings underneath. The extra padding didn’t have any effect on his desire for her. She was hotter than hot in sexy black leather, and he didn’t mind that she now understood just how much she affected him.

  They only rode about five hours that first day after returning the rental car and outfitting themselves. They stopped for the night in a small town in northern Nevada called Wells. It was at the intersection of Interstate 80 and Route 93 and, as a result, had a few more people than they’d seen all day. There were a couple of truck stops and restaurants, as well as a few motels to choose from.

  They ate a good dinner and retired to their room to enjoy their night. Gabe might be a little sore from riding so long after not having been on a bike in a while, but Margo was as fit as all shifters seemed to be and took it in stride. She soon had him forgetting his little aches and pains as she took the lead for the first time to their mutual pleasure.

  From Wells, they made their way to the Nevada side of Lake Tahoe. Trevor had warned them that the roads were constantly watched, which was why they had to ride in rather than arrive by air. They’d be able to present themselves as just another biker couple if they arrived that way, and Gabe had agreed with the logic. They didn’t want to blow Ezra’s cover, after all. The bears were doing Gabe and Margo a favor. The least they could do was tread as carefully as possible and not screw up the bears’ operation.

  They rolled into Tahoe about six or seven hours after they set out. It had been easy riding on the Interstate. The trucks were a bit to deal with, but the truckers were at least professionals and didn’t seem like they were aiming for bikers. Sometimes, it felt like regular folk in cars were programmed to home in on bikes. At least on busy city roads.

  They were on Route 80 until they hit Reno, and then, they went south on Route 580 until they hit a much smaller road numbered 431 that took them right up over the mountains, past ski slopes and then down into Tahoe itself. That last part of the journey took a bit of finesse, but Gabe felt invigorated by the time they pulled into the casino in Tahoe where they had a room reserved.

  Gabe had no sooner opened the door to the room they’d been assigned when the phone rang. It was Margo’s cell, and she answered it as he checked out the room.

  “I understand,” she said, ending the call a few moments later. She tucked the phone back into her pocket and looked at him. “We’re meeting Ezra. Drop your stuff, and let’s go.”

  The fact that she didn’t elaborate and the terse way she held herself meant something was up. Gabe did as she’d asked and simply left his saddlebags on the bed. There was nothing in them that was irreplaceable. All the really important stuff he kept on his person.

  Gabe didn’t ask questions but followed Margo’s lead as she guided them out
of the hotel and down the street toward a somewhat seamier area of town. She paused in front of what looked like a dive bar that had more than a few motorcycles parked in front. They’d left their bikes in the hotel lot, but they were still dressed for riding, and they’d come past this very establishment on the way in, so perhaps that’s how Ezra had known they’d arrived. He’d probably seen them driving past out the big plate-glass window.

  When they entered, the neon lights flickered. Gabe tried to dial down his magic as much as possible. Sometimes, he had a weird effect on neon, but he could control it if he tried. A moment’s thought, and the lights went back to their cheery uninterrupted glow. Hopefully, no one had noticed.

  A big guy stood up from a seat at the end of the long bar and came forward. He stopped in front of Margo and nodded.

  “Ezra. Good to see you again. This is my friend, Gabe,” Margo introduced them as if she’d met Ezra before. Perhaps they were putting on a show for the denizens of the bar. Whatever the reason, Gabe went along.

  Ezra offered his beefy paw for a shake, and Gabe took it, hoping the big guy wouldn’t crush all his bones. Gabe needn’t have worried. The huge shifter was gentler than he looked.

  “Good to meet you. Come on back. I’ve got a table and some eats. They do great burgers here.” Ezra seemed friendly enough as he led them back into the dim interior of the bar where there were booths and tables set up and the surprisingly good aromas coming from a doorway that must lead to a kitchen.

  Ezra motioned for Margo to sit first then took a chair opposite. Gabe sat between them on the side of the table Ezra had picked out, in the farthest corner of the big room.

  “Nobody will bother us back here. We can speak freely,” Ezra said quickly, keeping his voice low so that it didn’t carry. “Trev says you work for Hastings,” was his opening conversational gambit.

  Clearly, he was talking to Margo. The giant shifter didn’t seem too interested in Gabe at the moment, and Gabe wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or amused. He decided to go with a little of both, but he didn’t interrupt the ongoing shifters-only conversation. He’d bide his time.

  “I head up Collin’s Canadian operations,” Margo said with no little pride in her voice.

  She had a right to be proud of the position she’d reached, and her deliberate use of her boss’s first name sent a clear message. She was a favored employee of a highly respected detective. From Ezra’s subtle change in expression, the message was received and understood.

  “You’re a long way from home, little red riding hood,” Ezra said easily a hint of challenge in his otherwise teasing words.

  “Haven’t you heard? I’m not little red. I’m the big bad wolf.” Margo growled a little for effect, and Ezra broke out in laughter.

  It wasn’t a condescending sort of laugh. More like the respectful amusement of really big predator for a smaller counterpart. At least, Margo didn’t seem to take offense, so Gabe was guided by her reaction.

  “All right. Fair point. I’ve worked with wolves before, and some of them knew of your Pack when I asked. Said you’d had trouble a couple decades back,” Ezra said. Of course he would have checked them out, but it still rubbed Gabe the wrong way that information on Margo had come so easily to Ezra while it had been so hard to learn for Gabe and his people. Damned shifter secrecy. “Was that caused by the man you’re hunting?”

  “Got it in one,” Margo replied. “I’ve been on this trail for a long time. It’s the whole reason I became an investigator, and this, I’m sorry to say, is the closest I’ve ever gotten to my quarry. I don’t want to leave the States without ending this once and for all.”

  Ezra nodded. “Fair enough. You hungry? I can vouch for the food. They’ve got a cougar running the kitchen who’s part of the Redstone Clan but taking a little hiatus. You know how cats are. They like to roam on occasion.”

  Margo and Ezra shared a laugh that was far too intimate for Gabe’s liking, but he wasn’t going to start trouble. Not if he could help it. He set his anger to a slow burn and tried to remember that Margo would be sharing his bed tonight, no matter how friendly she might get with the big bear shifter.

  “I could eat a horse,” Margo replied, and no sooner had she said that than Ezra signaled to the waitress. The woman came right over and gave Ezra a beaming smile. If Ezra wasn’t sleeping with the waitress, Gabe would eat his non-existent hat.

  They placed orders for burgers and all the fixings, and the woman went away after favoring Ezra with a sultry smile. Gabe felt marginally better seeing the way Ezra’s eyes followed the waitress’s swaying ass as she strolled into the kitchen. Turning abruptly, Ezra pinned Gabe with his gaze.

  “My sources told me about Margo here, but you, I don’t know,” the former bounty hunter said bluntly. “Tell me why I should help you.”

  Gabe’s eyes narrowed. This was pure Alpha bullshit, and he knew it, but this kind of challenge was the norm for shifters, and Gabe couldn’t show any weakness. Not if he really wanted this guy’s help.

  “My sister just mated Margo’s cousin. The families got together, and a seer suggested she and I team up because you’re never going to catch Bolivar off guard without my help,” Gabe told the other man plainly.

  “And why is that? What can you do that I can’t?” Ezra challenged, a bit of growl in his voice.

  “I’m a half-fey mage of the Llewellyn bloodline,” Gabe said in a calm, cold voice that carried power and wouldn’t go beyond their table.

  Nobody would overhear his words because he’d put a ward around their table the moment they’d sat down. He raised a finger and flicked it toward the invisible ring he’d set moments ago, energizing it so that the two shifters sitting with him could see it from the inside, though nobody outside should be able to perceive it.

  Ezra’s head came up, as did Margo’s, as the ward sparkled to life. Golden light glittered around them as Gabe watched with satisfaction.

  “Llewellyns aren’t fey,” Ezra said, sounding a bit confused but more open to listening. “I was able to learn that much.”

  “They aren’t, but my mother is a priestess,” Gabe said modestly. He looked at Margo. He’d let her decide whether or not to say more.

  “His grandmother is the High Priestess Bettina,” Margo said quietly, drawing Ezra’s gaze. “I met her myself. She performed the mating ceremony.”

  “Well, shit,” Ezra cursed good-naturedly. “And here, I was all set to dislike you on principle. But Bettina… She’s special to all werefolk. And you’re her grandson?”

  “Great, great, great and a couple more greats in there-grandson would be more accurate,” Margo muttered, but she was smiling as she said it.

  “What’s with the light show?” Ezra pointed toward the ward all around them. “I reckon the rest of them can’t see this.”

  “Only those of us on the inside,” Gabe affirmed and flicked his finger again, removing the visible energy. “And only when I wish it,” he added, knowing he was showing off a bit but feeling good about it. The big bear shifter had been so sure he was the baddest dude in the room—right up until a few moments ago. “It’s just a ward. I trusted your words when you said nobody would eavesdrop, but why take a chance?”

  “You cast a ward without either of us noticing?” Ezra started to look suitable impressed. “The only time I’ve seen wards cast, there was a lot of chanting and walking around in circles. What did you do, just flick your pinky?”

  Gabe laughed this time. “Something like that.”

  He didn’t have to tell the bear shifter that wards were just one of his many talents. Erecting quick, temporary wards was child’s play to him. He expected Ezra was smart enough to figure that out on his own.

  “Well, all right then.” Ezra seemed to settle back down to business. “What do you propose to do to help us catch Bolivar? I’ll admit, that slimy bastard has been one step ahead of me ever since I started on his trail.”

  “We have reason to believe he’s somewhat clairvoyant
,” Gabe told the other man.

  “Son of a bitch,” Ezra muttered. “That would explain a lot.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s another reason I erected the ward here. It will block his vision of this conversation,” Gabe said.

  “I thought clairvoyance was the vision of things in the future,” Ezra asked with a frown. “So, how would blocking a conversation now prevent him from having already had a vision of it prior to now?”

  Gabe shook his head with a smile. “Don’t ask me how it works. I only know that it does. It’s one of those magical things philosophers like to ponder. Me? I just know it works and leave it at that. The important thing is that I can block Bolivar’s vision of our movements, and if we can set a trap, we can most likely catch him in it.”

  “I begin to see why they told you two to team up,” Ezra said, sitting back and looking from Gabe to Margo and back again.

  He didn’t say anything further as the circle was momentarily broken by the arrival of the waitress with their food. Burgers were passed around to their rightful owners as the ketchup bottle made its way round the table. A few minutes later, Gabe was digging into one of the best burgers he had ever tasted. Silence reigned for a time while they appreciated their meal.

  After a while, Gabe broached a question he’d been wondering about.

  “Why are you after Bolivar? Trevor said something about his mate’s holdings and the fact that her stepfather had used Bolivar for some dirty work. What, exactly, was he into? Can you tell us?”

  Ezra’s expression took on a grim cast. “When that shark, Jonathan, got his fins on Beth’s legacy, he turned once-respectable businesses into fronts for drug dealing and prostitution. I’ve been cleaning that up, but I’ve run across multiple references to this Bolivar character being paid to magically coerce people into doing whatever Jonathan wanted. From government officials looking the other way to law enforcement giving them a free pass and everything in between. It’s a dirty, dirty business, and the worst of it is the sex slave shipments. We’ve uncovered documentation about at least three shipments of women going out to Goddess-knows-where.”