Twenty-Two

 

Saoirse didn’t have much information on the victims’ families. She said that was odd, given the priestesses usually kept a record of all bloodlines of the shifters and lycans within their territory. That meant that Alasdair and I spent the evening looking back over all the photos from the ritual sites while poring through witch books on ritual magic. To say it was tedious was an understatement.

Alasdair had insisted on remaining close to me and kept brushing his fingers over mine and leaning his thigh against mine. It was a distraction, but I restrained myself from growling at him. He hadn’t made any mention of friends or pack. Shifters weren’t meant to be alone. I accepted that, given he was many centuries old, he could be in need of the tactility my presence offered him. Much to my chagrin, it was doing me a lot of good too. I hadn’t realised how tense and aggressive I was on a day-to-day basis. Alasdair’s presence and touches calmed me and allowed me to focus on the work at hand, at least for short periods. I’d never been a fan of researching magic.

I leaned back on the sofa and stretched, yawning and hoping to escape to bed. Alasdair placed his hand in the centre of my chest and pushed me back against the sofa. He leaned in so close our lips were almost touching. I swallowed hard and focused on his eyes while remaining relaxed. My instincts told me to attack him and drive him off.

“Why did the fae attack you, Niko?” he growled.

His silver eyes were slowly becoming amber as his wolf pressed forward.

I acted without thinking. I had his bottom lip between my teeth before I’d even realised I’d moved. The taste of his blood coated my tongue before I let go and glared at him. My wolf was itching to be free and clamp its teeth down on Alasdair’s throat to remind him that I wasn’t some weak little omega he could push around. He licked his bottom lip and smiled. It was a dark razor-edges expression that only added more amber to his eyes.

“I don’t know, Alasdair, but I swear to the gods above and below, if you don’t release me I will make you,” I snarled.

He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t think I’ll allow you to draw my blood so easily next time,” before he released me.

I bared my teeth at him and went for a shower. We had to work together. I couldn’t afford to hang around and risk the situation escalating.

I was almost done with the shower when the bathroom door opened.

“I swear if you try and join me in this shower, I’ll-”

“I got you new jeans as yours were ruined. You’re welcome.”

The door closed. I dragged my fingers through my hair and calmed myself under the hot water. He got under my skin like no one else had before him. I leaned around the edge of the shower cubicle to double-check that he wasn’t waiting for me to give another strip-show before I got out. A paper bag full of new jeans and shirts awaited me, and guilt bubbled up within me. It wouldn’t have killed him to mention he got them earlier. He didn’t have to wait to come into the fucking bathroom to give them to me. They were all good quality, far better than I usually bought, and in my size. I wrinkled my nose as I stepped out into the main area and tried to decide how to apologise, or if I should at all. Damn, he was infuriating.

“Saoirse has booked us seats on a flight to Paris. We leave in ten minutes.”

I looked at Alasdair, who was standing in his full suit with a fancy leather backpack by his feet.

“Why are we going to Paris?”

He sighed.

“Another ritual has been reported there.”

“Ah, fuck.”

I jogged to the bedroom and threw my essentials into my backpack, including the rest of the new clothes Alasdair had bought me. He handed me my leather jacket when I emerged back in the living room.

“Thanks for the clothes, how much do I owe you?” I asked as I pulled my boots on.

“We’re partners, we look out for each other,” he said as he handed me a set of keys.

“So you can come and go as you please,” he added.

I pocketed the keys and glanced at the bedroom. Having the keys only made the bed situation more permanent.

“Lead the way,” I said with a smile.

We needed to catch the bastard that was killing these poor wolves. Too many had died as it was. I wondered why they’d moved to Paris, though; that was a big change of scene from Ireland. The supernal community was certainly different there, and the magic of each place was different. Maybe the Irish magic wasn’t lining up with his ritual, or at least that was their thinking.

“What do we know about this latest victim?” I asked.

“Young female, barely nineteen. She was brought in as a potential mate for the beta’s son. They wanted to keep the bloodlines diverse. No one has any information on her parents or the pack she came from. She’s the same as the rest: no criminal record, mundane college degree.”

I slumped back in the seat of Alasdair’s car and crossed my arms. We were missing something, and it was driving me mad. We were supposed to protect people, to save them from this. I felt like we were failing.