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

  The men in the Llewellyn Clan… She wasn’t so sure about. Especially that handsome rogue, Gabe. The more she thought about it, the more she realized he had to be a master manipulator to have concocted that entire scenario at the party last night. How could she have been so easily led? Had he used his magic on her? If so, that was a really low blow and totally unethical as far as she was concerned.

  Margo was working up a good head of steam when her cellphone rang. She knew the customized ringtone. It was her boss.

  Margo frowned. Why would he be calling her on a holiday when he knew she was on vacation with her family? Something must be up.

  She tapped her phone to answer the call. “Happy New Year,” she said quickly. “What’s up?”

  “A lead. It’s not much, but I know how important this is to you, so I figured you’d want to know right away.” Collin wasn’t much on idle conversation when he was in search-and-rescue mode.

  “Okay. Which case?” She had several open cases right now, but nothing that couldn’t have waited until her return to Canada. Or so she’d thought.

  “Your case… Your family’s case… Bolivar,” he told her.

  Her heart almost stopped for a moment, then she caught her breath. “What have you heard?”

  Margo was all business now. She might finally have that lead she needed so desperately. On today of all days, her patience and tenacity might finally be rewarded.

  “I put some feelers out since your last call, and I got a response from a friend in Seattle. Seems there was a mage problem that was rumored to have been solved by a fellow named Hiram, who is the Master vampire of the Seattle area.”

  “A bloodletter?” Margo didn’t like the sound of that.

  Some of those guys were so old they were completely unpredictable and prone to sudden changes in mood and intent. Shifters didn’t often mix with vampires because shifter blood was like a drug to them.

  “This one is okay. In fact, I have it on good authority that he’s the silent partner of a bear shifter in a little town down the coast a ways from Seattle. I think you should start with Hiram, and if you need any kind of support—trackers, muscle, paramilitary troops, or even magical help—I might be able to get you an introduction to the Alpha bear in Grizzly Cove. It’s a new community made up mostly of bear shifters from an ex-military unit.”

  Margo’s curiosity was piqued. Collin wasn’t usually quite so chatty. He talked when necessary, of course, but he didn’t usually volunteer so much extra information. News of a community of notoriously solitary bear shifters was startling enough. The fact that Collin seemed to be on good terms with them was even more intriguing.

  Perhaps some of the bears were old friends from Collin’s days as an Army Ranger. She’d run across former colleagues of his before. They were usually quite helpful with whatever case she was pursuing, and they always had extraordinary skills—and not always the ones you would expect.

  “I assume you can also get me a meeting with this Hiram guy?” Margo asked.

  “Yeah, I can. I’ll set it up as soon as you have your itinerary. You’re going, right?”

  “You bet I am. It’s been a long time since I had even a hint of a lead on Bolivar. Even if this turns out to be nothing, I have to pursue it,” she told him honestly.

  “I figured that would be your answer. I’ll text you the details. Text me back with your ETA to Seattle. I’ll set up the meet with the vampire.” Collin sounded resigned. He knew he wouldn’t get her back working on his cases until this lead was followed to its end. “Just be careful. Hiram’s a good guy, by all accounts, but you know how bloodletters can be. Don’t take any chances.”

  “I won’t,” she promised her boss. “And thanks, Collin. I owe you one.”

  Margo ended the call, contemplating what she should do. Sir Rayburne, the fey warrior who was Josh’s dad, had suggested rather strongly that she team up with Gabe for this hunt. She’d even gone so far as to meet with Gabe to discuss the status of the case about a week ago, but since then, there had been no further progression.

  Until now. After meeting with Gabe, Margo had called Collin and asked for a favor. Oh, her boss had always known about the mystery that had inspired her to become an investigator, and the personal stake she had in finding Bolivar and bringing him to justice. Werewolf justice, that is.

  Bolivar had messed with her family in one of the worst possible ways. He’d severed familial bonds that should never have been tested. He’d done so with apparent disregard for the fate of the shifters involved.

  Because of Bolivar, Josh had grown up without a family. He’d been forced to be a lone wolf. That wasn’t a normal state of affairs for their kind. Margo could only imagine how difficult it must’ve been for him as a child, and for his mother, to be shut off from their family when they needed them most.

  For that, Bolivar needed to pay. It didn’t matter how much time had passed. What had been done to the Stony Ridge Pack had to be avenged, and Bolivar had to be stopped. Who knew what other grief he had caused in the intervening years. Margo felt as if her inability to find the troublesome mage might have caused incalculable harm to others that she would never know. It was a burden of guilt she carried with her always.

  She had always intended to end this hunt on her own, but all the advice she had been given recently pointed to the fact that she would need magical backup. Gabe was a mage, and he also had a personal stake in finding Bolivar. His family had been harmed, as well. He had a right to the hunt, too.

  That didn’t sit too well with Margo. She’d become something of a lone wolf herself—at least when it came to her work. She didn’t often need backup on her investigations. She was a bit of a maverick, and liked it that way.

  But now, she had a decision to make. Should she ignore the advice and counsel of her elders? Or should she suck up her pride and share the hunt with Gabe?

  Just a few weeks ago, she would never have imagined herself teaming up with a mage. Nope. Never in a million years.

  Now? After getting to know Deena and the rest of her family, Margo had radically revised her opinion of magic users. She was willing to concede that not all of them were bad. In fact, some of them were aligned with the Goddess, like Deena and all her priestess relatives. You couldn’t find better people. They served the Light. There was no higher recommendation or qualification.

  And Gabe was of that family. He might be a guy, and therefore not specifically part of the long, unbroken line of priestesses in his ancestral line, but he was of that stock. He had been raised by a priestess. His sister was a priestess. If he was a bad guy, they’d know it, and probably fry him into submission or something. Margo smiled at her own silly thoughts.

  So. Should she call him? Did she really want a partner on this hunt? Did she need one?

  According to those who should know, she did. To hunt a mage, she would need a mage. It made sense. Particularly in light of the fact that Bolivar seemed to have a special ability to hide his trail. After all, he’d hidden Evie’s trail so well all those years ago that her family—an entire Pack of werewolves—hadn’t been able to track her.

  Much as Margo hated to admit it, her skills alone might not be enough this time. And this hunt was way too important to screw it up because of foolish pride.

  Margo shook her head, even as she made the call. Gabe answered on the first ring.

  “Are you up for a trip to the West Coast?” she asked him, feeling a weird sort of excitement just knowing that she was committing to traveling with him and spending a few days running down this lead with him at her side.

  “I’ll go anywhere with you, Margo,” came Gabe’s seductively-voiced reply.

  His daring made her smile. The rogue.

  CHAPTER THREE

  On the second of January, Margo found herself sitting in an airplane—along with hundreds of humans—headed for Seattle. Gabe was next to her, and his tendency to smile at her was getting on her nerves.

  Margo wasn’t used to men smilin
g at her all the time. Most of the Pack didn’t see her as an equal or someone to pal around with. Not anymore. Not since she’d been a pup, actually. As she’d matured into a powerful female with major Alpha tendencies, even her own Pack had changed in their regard toward her. It wasn’t a bad change, per se.

  Mostly, they just treated her with a lot more respect. Some were afraid of her, sometimes. She wasn’t too pleased with that, but she tried to remind herself that it was their problem—their submissiveness—that led those few Pack members to cower. It was the nature of their beasts. Just as she couldn’t help her own dominance. That was the way her wolf was, and her human side was no shrinking violet either. Together, they made one very capable, highly trained investigator who very rarely took no for an answer.

  Her temperament had helped her get the job she had always dreamed about. Not only was she a private investigator, but she was one of the top operatives in her field. Collin had connections and employees—either full time or casual—all over the world, though he concentrated the bulk of his business in North America, and mostly in the United States.

  The Canadian branch consisted of several teams and a number of individual investigators spaced all around the provinces. Margo was the coordinator, and she kept track of all the purely Canadian cases for Collin. Part of her job was administrative—overseeing the rest of the operation—but she also got to do what she had trained for all her life, running cases of her own.

  Occasionally, her tracking would lead her to an airport. Flying wasn’t exactly her favorite activity, but she would do if she had to. This was one of those times. As she snapped her seatbelt shut and listened to the safety presentation, she tried not to think about how long this flight was going to take. Cross country wasn’t quick. But there really was no alternative. The trail was already cold, and they had to get to Seattle as quickly as they could.

  That Gabe was along for the ride was something she was still getting used to. Usually, when she went into the field, she was on her own. Having a partner was new. Having that partner be a mage was something completely unprecedented. And having a partner who had rocked her world with the most sensual kiss she’d ever experienced was downright terrifying.

  “You look like you’re about to rip into something,” Gabe said quietly to her once the safety presentation had drawn to an end and the regular level of background noise resumed in the crowded cabin. “Chill, Margo,” he counseled.

  She wanted to huff at him, but she knew he was right. Deliberately slowing her breathing, she turned slightly to look at him.

  “I don’t like flying,” she said shortly, hoping he would accept that as her reason for being somewhat on edge.

  Gabe placed one of his big hands over hers on the end of her armrest. She immediately felt warmth and comfort coming off him, and surprisingly, it helped settle her nerves a bit.

  “I’m right here. You’re not in this alone. We’ll get our man. I’m certain of it,” he told her.

  “I admire your confidence,” she replied candidly. “I’ve been looking for Bolivar for almost my entire life, so I’m not as convinced of our victory.”

  “That’s okay,” he said, smiling at her. Again. This one was a soft smile. Almost a grin, complete with boyish charm. Though, how a six-foot-two giant of a man could managed to look boyish was a mystery to her. “I believe in you,” he went on, stealing her breath with the intent look in his eyes. “I believe in us.”

  She looked away, her emotions a mass of confusion. He really had to stop saying things like that. She was going to start getting ideas. Ideas about the future. About having him in it… Permanently.

  That would never do. She couldn’t start thinking about a future with a human. A mage!

  She drew her hand away from his and balled it into a fist that she kept firmly in her lap. She was too tempted to touch him again. Something she could not allow.

  Why was her inner wolf whining?

  Maybe it was being cooped up in an airplane. Yeah. That had to be it. Right?

  Gabe tried to break through Margo’s hard outer shell, time and time again, on the long flight, but she was tough. In a way, that only made him like her more. It also made him more determined than ever.

  The woman he’d glimpsed at the party… The woman he’d kissed and held in his arms… That was the woman he knew lay just under Margo’s prickly outer surface. He wanted to get her to let down her guard and be that woman with him again. All the time. Forever.

  She didn’t realize it yet, but he was playing for keeps.

  She held up well over the hours in the plane until they disembarked in Seattle. It was three hours earlier on the West Coast than it had been in Pennsylvania, so they had a bit of time to kill before they would be able to meet Master Hiram. Vamps only came out after dark, which was a limitation Gabe and Margo had to work with if they wanted to see the Master.

  Collin Hastings had set everything up. Gabe was impressed at the lengths Margo’s employer would go to help her. A little niggle of jealousy made him wonder if the relationship between them was strictly employer-employee. They were both shifters, after all.

  Though Hastings was said to be some sort of flight shifter. A giant raptor of some kind. Gabe didn’t know if crossing species lines was a common thing among shifters or not. He tended to think it didn’t happen every day, but what did he know? Being around the Stony Ridge Pack these past couple of weeks was the most exposure he’d ever had to a large group of shifters.

  It was pretty clear to Gabe that the long flight had been rough on Margo. He wanted to try to help her adjust to the new time zone and recover from being so constrained within the confines of the airplane. He thought he knew just how to do it.

  “We have time before we need to meet Master Hiram,” he said, once they were in their rented four-wheel-drive vehicle and headed out of the airport. “What do you say we go up to the cabin and settle in first? We can be back in plenty of time for the meeting if we go straight there now.”

  Margo, in the passenger seat, turned to look at him. “You’re the one who’s spent time in this region before. I leave the logistics up to you.”

  “You’re going to love my cousin’s cabin. It’s out in the middle of nowhere,” Gabe told her as he turned onto the highway that would lead them away from the city. “Brian swears there are no magical energies for miles in any direction. It’s his retreat away from everything—even magic.”

  “No shifter energy?” Margo asked. “I find that hard to believe. Anywhere there’s wilderness, there are usually shifters.”

  “Brian is kind of a special case. He’s extra sensitive to magical energy. Has been ever since we were kids. He learned to manage it early on, but I think, sometimes, it gets to be too much for him. Shielding himself from all that extrasensory input has to be exhausting. So, when he went looking for a place to get away, he was particularly careful about the neighborhood,” Gabe told her. “The property backs onto a cliff that I doubt any animal—even a shifter—could climb. He put the cabin right there, at the base of the cliff, at the farthest point from his property lines. Then, he posted a fence and signage to keep out the non-magical people and had some of the family help put up wards to keep the magical folk clear. So far, it’s worked like a charm, and Bri has owned the place for years. He spends his summers up here now. He won’t admit it, but as he gets older and more powerful, I think the ability to sense even the slightest magic grows, too.”

  “That must be tough,” Margo replied, watching the scenery pass. They were heading away from the suburbs and into the higher elevations. “Do all mages get stronger as they age?”

  Gabe was glad she seemed to be taking an interest in the conversation.

  “No. Not at all. Though, of course, most of us keep learning and keep perfecting our skills throughout our lives. Some do get stronger, as well as more knowledgeable. Brian is one of those.” Gabe shook his head in sympathy for his cousin. “I think it’s hard on him, but he keeps up a brave face. I’m a
fraid, one of these days, he’s just going to move up here permanently and become a hermit.” Gabe scowled. “There’s a bit of history in our family of that kind of thing. Along with all the priestesses, we’ve got more than our fair share of hermits, as well.”

  “I had no idea.” Margo looked truly shocked. She’d turned her head to look at him. Though he was concentrating on the road ahead, he could see her movement in his peripheral vision. “Being alone is really difficult for one of us,” she shared. “I don’t know how Evie managed. Josh might have had it a little easier. He’s very Alpha, and lone wolves are generally all strong Alphas who need to leave their home Packs for one reason or another. Often, they form their own Packs after a period of roaming. But Evie… She was very submissive, by all accounts, before she left. She must have had a great deal of hidden strength to make it through everything she had to endure. I give her a lot of credit.”

  “I really like her,” Gabe agreed. “But Ray is more than a little scary.” He laughed, and she chuckled, as well.

  “He’s the first full fey I’ve ever encountered,” she admitted. “And you’re right. He is scary.”

  “Duncan is worse. And Bettina! She’s…” Gabe was lost for words.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. The High Priestess is kind of a rock star among shifters. Having her perform the mating ceremony was incredibly special.” Margo’s tone softened just a hair. “I never expected to ever meet her. She’s so busy with the Lords and everything she does. It was a big deal that she came all that way. And I’m still a little stunned—I think the whole Pack is—that she’s part of your family.”

  “A very distant part,” Gabe allowed. “There have been many, many generations since her child founded my line. Someday, I’m going to investigate the family archives and trace it all the way back. All I know is, she wants us to call her grandma, which seems really odd because she looks younger than my mother.”

  “Fey don’t age.” Margo shook her head slightly as she said the words. “Or, at least, not in a way we mortals can discern.” She paused for a moment, then went on. “You have some of that blood in you—and a lot of that magic. You’ll live far longer than a regular human, won’t you?”