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Rafe didn't want to leave Jess behind, but an alpha's work was never done. Once they were mated properly he could use it as an excuse to spend days in bed with her, but until then he had work to do. He walked down an inner corridor to the main hall, nodding at his subjects as they made way for him.
They didn't cower in corners or jump out of his way, they merely showed him the proper respect due to an alpha. He'd ruled over them for eight years and in that time he thought he had been a fair and just leader. No matter that some in the city called him the Wolf and thought him a vicious monster. Ruling a city like this took discipline and a willingness to be seen as brutal. A willingness to be brutal when necessary.
Not many people could defeat an entrenched alpha when they were not quite twenty, but Rafe wasn't most people.
He ended up in the Great Hall. There, his second in command, Mac, led the team of his lieutenants hunting down Rebecca Patrick. "Good afternoon, Alpha." Mac still had a hint of Scotland in his voice, though the man had lived in the States for as long as Rafe knew him. He was a little older than Rafe, and broader, but he was quick to grin and tell a joke, keeping those around him at ease.
Rafe wasn't able to joke with many people.
The other wolves took Mac's hint and left without more than a nod to Rafe. Gemma tried to stay a second more, but Mac shook his head at her and she scowled, exiting with the rest.
"Any problems with that bunch?" They all ranked relatively highly within the pack, but they weren't members of the inner circle.
Mac rolled his eyes. "Gemma's trying to climb, she'll challenge someone soon enough."
"That is her right," and it would cause ripples. One challenge always sparked another and then Rafe had to reorganize all of his carefully constructed plans. But there were only so many things he could change about wolves. They had their ways of dealing with leadership issues. Bloody though they were.
"Melanie mentioned that you brought the girl's sister in." Mac's tone was deceptively light. Rafe just nodded and waited for him to say what he wanted to say. "She also said that the dungeon was prepared and sits empty."
"There's been a slight change of plans." Few in the pack would ever question him like this. Not over something so small. They had their forums for discussion, their avenues to address conflict. Complaints were not issued to the alpha's face in friendly conversation. Not unless you happened to be the alpha's best friend.
"You take the frumpy sister and make her fall in love with you?" Mac's face was fully of censure, his lips in a sharp line, "That's not like you, man."
Anger started to bubble. Rafe reminded himself that Mac hadn't seen Jess, that he had only seen her photo, and that he should have been damn glad that no one had snatched her up before he got to her. "That isn't what I'm doing."
From Mac's look, he didn't believe him. Too bad. Rafe had work to do, "I want you to get me all the information you have on Jessica Patrick. You have ten minutes."
Mac didn't need them. He handed Rafe a file and sat at the table. "There's not much to know. She's worked as a sales rep at that fashion place for a year. No college on record, she never went to school here, and I can't find any information about her before two years ago, same as Rebecca Patrick."
"And that's when she moved to the city?" Rafe didn't believe that for a second. She was far too comfortable. This was her home and had been for some time.
"I've got feelers out, but nothing else. No parents, no relations other than Rebecca." Mac sorted through a stack of papers and pushed a manila folder at Rafe. Rafe picked it up and read over the Spartan lines. There didn't seem to be anything that Mac hadn't told him.
"I'll want another report in the morning." Mac nodded and Rafe left, heading back to his room. It was time to question his curvy wolf.
But it seemed his walk back was not to be alone. Gemma joined him, walking half a step back but keeping pace with his long strides. Gemma Khan was new to the pack, had only joined a year ago after moving in from London. Her skin was golden brown and her long dark hair flowed halfway down her back when she let it loose. Today, though, she had it gathered in two thick braids.
As if to combat her ample feminine curves, her clothing was nearly militaristic, highly functional. She had already fought three challenges and had risen in rank faster than almost anyone else in the pack. Rafe thought she had eyes on Mac's spot, but he would stop her long before she got there. Mac could handle a challenge, but Rafe didn't want to lose his second to something preventable.
She didn't speak as they covered the ground back to his room. Rather than taking the small inner corridors only used by servants and the inner circle, Rafe kept to the public passageways. These hallways could be traversed by any member of the pack, but the journey back to his room would take significantly longer.
"Did you simply plan to escort me, or did you have something to say?" There was a protocol with speaking and Gemma was following it to the letter. She was an expert on pack rules and hadn't once broken one. From what Rafe had learned of her pack in England, minor rules infractions were treated as capital crimes.
"I think I've found a connection between Rebecca Patrick and the pack." And she was telling him instead of Mac, interesting.
"This isn't the standard protocol. Mac is in charge of the investigation. If he thinks it holds water, he'll move on it." Rafe walked faster, Gemma was six inches shorter than him but had no trouble keeping up.
"He's not interested in what I have to say." Frustration laced Gemma's words.
"His job is to protect the pack and right now he's doing that by investigating Rebecca Patrick. Do you honestly think that he would stop you simply because..." Rafe didn't know why she thought Mac was stalling her, he wasn't sure he cared. He'd deal with the petty relationship politics later.
"It's sensitive."
Of course it was. And every time someone brought up sensitive information they expected secret conspiratorial agents breathing down their necks, ready to rip out their throats if anything went wrong. "Just tell me."
"I think Martin Jorgenson hired her." She spoke so quietly that Rafe almost asked her to repeat herself.
He wasn't completely surprised at the accusation, though he understood why Mac wouldn't move on it. Martin had a lot of friends and a lot of influence. "Talk to Mac. He isn't unreasonable."
They were at his door and Rafe stopped. Gemma hadn't completely caught up. She only stopped when she was mere inches from running him over.
Rafe was turning the handle when Gemma put a hand on his arm. "Please, let me follow up on this."
He opened the door and looked down at where she touched him and then back up at her face. "I've given you far more leeway than most, Gemma." He pushed open the door and entered the room. Gemma understood the dismissal and took off.
Rafe smiled at Jessica. It was time to dance.
She stood by the window, one hand resting just above the glass, but she stared at him by the door. Perhaps she had been considering jumping. That was a bad habit to be mended, his girl couldn’t jump off a building every time she wanted to escape.
“It’s time that we talk,” he said, gesturing to the small seating area he had set up in the alcove by the same window where Jessica stood.
She chose to sit in one of the chairs and he suppressed a smile. “I thought we’d never get around to it.”
Rafe crossed the room and took his own seat on the couch, facing her. He kept his pose relaxed, one arm stretched out over the seat and his posture laid back. This conversation would be difficult enough as it was, no need to look like he had a stick shoved up his ass. “This can go one of two ways. Either you level with me and answer my questions, or I throw you in the dungeon until you decide to answer my questions.”
Jessica looked around, her face contemplative. “So, what? Did you throw me in her to tempt me with your nice home? The carrot, rather than the stick?”
“You’re rather glib for someone in your position.” And he loved it, even if it complicated finding her sister. Every moment he spent with her further proved just how right she would be as his woman.
“Do you honestly think this is the worst place I’ve been held prisoner?” She mimicked his position, leaning back and letting her arms rest on the armrests of her padded chair. She tucked her legs to one side, ankles primly crossed.
“Really?” Rafe found himself leaning forward. His intel had nearly nothing on her and he wanted more. “Why don’t you tell me about that?”
“But that’s not what you wanted to know.” She grinned.
Rafe wanted desperately to grin back, but he held the expression in check. He was an alpha, damn it. And he had work to do. “You’re going to answer any question I ask. Is that clear?”
“You’re sure of yourself for someone who hasn’t gotten a straight answer out of me yet.” He was starting to wonder if he had miscalculated. Maybe she was just crazy. There was a certain point where she needed to yield if she had any concern for her own well-being.
“I’m to alpha, baby. I get what I want.”
“My name’s Jess, not baby.” She scowled. “Keep talking like you are and it will be Miss Patrick.”
“Jessica then,” he quite liked the name and he liked the pink in her cheeks even more. “Tell me about your sister and you will no longer be my prisoner.” Not that he had any intention of letting her leave the castle, but by the time they were through, he hoped she would want to stay.
“I’m a hostage, not a prisoner. You’d give me up in a hot minute if Rebecca were willing to turn herself in.” She was leaning in close to him as she spoke, the distance between them now measurable in inches rather than feet.
“You’re pedantic.” And with anyone else he’d have his teeth bared and be issuing threats. “Just tell me about you and Rebecca. Is it just the two of you? Or is there a lover I should be worried about?”
