With a sleeping Soren snuggled against my chest, I stretch out in the corner of the sectional across from the roaring fire while Dante glares at his laptop. He’s been like that for several minutes. I can’t take it any longer. While I don’t mind silence, Dante’s frustration is stirring mine.
Nearly another full day has passed with Ilan out where his enemies can strike against him while I’m here, protected by the largest Royal wolf pack in the eastern states. According to Ilan, anyway. He also told me the alphas of this pack are the ultimate godlike warriors, the very epitome of strength. With them and Dante watching over Soren and me, we’d be safe here. That’s what Ilan told me. I don’t need his justifications. Ilan trusts these people. That’s good enough for me.
Ilan also cares deeply for the man who’s sharing this couch with me. That truth only makes seeing Dante frustrated even more upsetting.
“What are you reading?” I ask instead of demanding what’s wrong with him. Dante would likely say nothing, his instincts compelling him to hide his weaknesses.
“I’m not reading anything.”
“Then what are you staring at?”
Dante scowls more. “The picture of the tattoo parlor where Daegan was attacked.”
Ilan mentioned wanting to get the details from Shifter Affairs about what the cleanup crew walked in on. Standard practice would’ve had them take pictures and record details before getting rid of any evidence pointing to a shifter-related crime. They did so at my house, removing the carpet and repairing the damage to my porch. Since I haven’t been back since the attack on Ezra, I can’t say how good a job they did, but I’m grateful the nasty reminders of the death that occurred there are now gone.
“What’s concerning about it?” Because my guess is there’s something about the photo that has triggered Dante’s intense contemplation.
“He didn’t struggle. Not one little bit.” Dante motions to the screen, but I have no desire to get up and look at it. I’ve seen enough blood to last me an eternity. “There’s no blood splatter on the walls, the furniture. Nothing. It’s all contained under the table where he must’ve lain out to get his tattoo.”
“So they injected him first, then tortured him?” The theory goes along with what Ilan had suggested. There’s no way Daegan would’ve sustained the extensive injuries he’d gotten otherwise.
“Yes. That’s my guess. Likely the injection site is what made a difference between him and Ezra. Entering into Daegan’s spine must’ve caused immediate paralysis.”
And with the dart hitting right above Ezra’s backside, he was able to fight the effects of the drug long enough to crawl in from outside, drag himself up the stairs, and save me and Soren before succumbing to paralysis. I tighten my hold on a sleeping Soren, even more grateful for the predators who’ve become family to me. “Has Shifter Affairs finished analyzing Ezra’s and Daegan’s blood samples?”
“Yes. Witch’s salve. It’s used on Royals to prevent our bodies from healing tattoo wounds. They mix it in with the ink. It’s still painful, agonizingly painful, as if our skin is melting off, but it’s necessary.” He yanks on the collar of his shirt, exposing a section of the intricate inking on his body. “Otherwise, we’d never retain a tattoo.” Dante lets go of his shirt and tugs up the edge of his pants leg, exposing a rough-looking raised mark with jagged edges. “Salt can be used too, but it can leave the tattoo messed up as sometimes we heal faster than the salt can scar us.”
“Daegan’s tattoo artist did this to him.” There’s no other explanation.
“That’s what I’m having such a hard time believing.” Dante taps the screen a few times. “This is one of the tattoo shops Jarah owns. He has several. Doesn’t look like he’s involved in running it, according to the business filings, but he’s the one who pays the bills and reaps the profits.”
“Jarah?” I sit forward, cradling Soren in my arms. “The Jarah who calls Ilan his son?”
Dante focuses on me. “The same Jarah who knows an awful lot about Gabriel Kane and what’s planned for Ilan’s pack.”
“Jarah’s with Ilan right now. Alone.” Soren whimpers, not quite awake but on the cusp. I take a deep breath, an attempt at settling my nerves, but it doesn’t help. My voice comes out tight, strained. “Do I need to be worried? I don’t want to be. I want to trust Jarah because Ilan does, but if he did this to Daegan, another man he considers his son…”
Dante glances from me to Soren’s scrunched pre-cry face. He skims his fingers over Soren’s arm in a comforting caress, much like Ilan does when Soren’s getting agitated. Dante’s touch has the same effect. Tension drains from Soren’s body. He exhales, slipping back into his contented sleep.
Dante eases his hand away. “Jarah and I are not exactly friends, but we have no evidence he did this. Or even knew about this attack. The tattoo artist likely did, however. And that is what I’m having a hard time believing.”
“Why?”
“Because Jarah owns the place.” Dante looks at me as if expecting that statement to explain everything. After a moment of me staring at him, he sighs. “Jarah’s an ancient alpha with a tie to the heavens. He’s also the eldest member of the Host and well respected. For an employee to cross him would mean their death, simple as that. You just don’t mess with men like Jarah.”
“Nolan said he smelled a bear shifter at the tattoo parlor. An ancient bear shifter. Even his animals didn’t want to mess with him.”
“Did he now?” Dante studies me intently. “Did Nolan mention why he didn’t go after him?”
“He wanted to save Daegan.” And while it sounds like the noble and logical thing to do, I can’t help but wonder why Nolan bothered. Royals can survive a lot as long as they don’t lose their head or heart. Daegan’s head was still attached. Okay, it was barely still attached. Apparently, a few millimeters was enough to keep Daegan from dying, though.
Dante grunts as if thinking the same thing. “We need to talk to Daegan.”
“Do you think he’s awake?”
He shakes his head. “We would’ve gotten a call.”
“What about mind to mind? He’s feline. You’re feline. You can talk to each other that way once he’s awake enough to break through the fog in his mind, right?” That’s the gist of what I’ve learned of the mystical way Royals can communicate with each other, anyway.
“Yes. That’s how it works.”
“Did he speak to Ezra yet, then? Or Uri? I thought he was staying there for a while.” Along with Nolan.
Dante sets his laptop on the cushion next to him. He pulls out his phone and sends a text. After a moment, his phone dings with a reply. “Uri’s not there anymore. He’s doing legwork for Ilan now.”
“So that only leaves Nolan.”
“Yes.” Dante closes his laptop, his fingers lingering on the surface. “And Nolan is a Shifter Affairs agent. He’s used to collecting evidence and statements.”
“True.” I glance at Soren. While I love spending time snuggling with him, I also want to see the threats to both him and Ilan eliminated. “But maybe we can make the drive out there anyway and visit Daegan and Ezra before it gets too late.”
“I’ll make the trip.” Dante sends another text, then stands. “You’re staying here.”
I suck on my bottom lip for a minute as I struggle with my wants versus what’s best. Finally, I exhale. “If Nolan is still there, I want to talk to him more. He seemed eager to spend time with me last time. Maybe I can get more details about Daegan’s attack and about the scent of bear he smelled there. I’m having a hard time believing he’s suddenly so concerned about Daegan, a man he didn’t seem to have too much empathy for the first time he spoke of Daegan’s suffering.”
“They’re from the same pride.”
“And if a member of your birth pride was suffering, would you be sitting by their bedside?” From the snippets I picked up about Dante’s past, I’m guessing something horrid happened to send him off to live with the Winchester pack.
After a long moment, Dante shakes his head. “I’m still not sure there’s any reason for you to go.”
“People don’t consider me a threat, Dante. That lion shifter who tried to attack Soren didn’t. He came right at me even while I held a gun on him.” Of course, I didn’t actually kill him, but I did slow him down long enough for Ezra to finish him off. “And honestly, none of you do. You’ve all shared secrets about the shifter world with me, things I’m going to bet I shouldn’t know. Like that mind-talking ability. Granted, I’d never betray any of you, but you don’t know that for certain. It’s not as if I’m a permanent part of your world yet.”
Dante turns slightly, facing me with the same stark scrutiny he did the first time I met him. His cold, dark eyes don’t scare me like they did then. Maybe because I’ve spent time with him. Maybe because I trust him. I’m not sure, but I hold his gaze until he smirks. “You have a way about you, Sara. You make people feel welcome and comfortable, as if we’re best friends or you’re my little sister.”
Dante’s words warm me, right down to my soul. I glance at Soren and grin wider at the sucking motions he’s making while sleeping. This little baby feels safe with me too. So does his uncle. I’m the one female Ilan waited millennia for. “Nolan felt the same way you do too. There was really no reason for him to tell me about his missing mate and kids, but he did. I want to see what else he’ll tell me.”
Without saying another word, Dante sends a series of texts. His phone dings with several replies. After a moment of back-and-forth typing, he scoops Soren from my arms. “Go get dressed. Ilan knows where we’re going. He’s not exactly happy about it but says you’re probably right. If Nolan has something to hide, you might be the only one to get it out of him.”
A wave of happiness slips through me, making my smile the wide and pleased kind. I glance at the floor, suddenly shy with Ilan’s praise, then flick my gaze to Dante as he walks to the door. I hurry after him. “Where are you taking Soren?”
“Nowhere.”
The front door opens before I can question Dante’s response. A gorgeous white-haired woman with a body that would turn every man’s head steps through.
“Thanks for coming inside, Corey.” Dante greets her with a familiarity that reflects the connection Jarah hinted Dante and Corey share.
Corey doesn’t look at Dante or respond. She zeroes in on the baby in his arms. Her eyes light up the way mine do when I see babies. “He’s beautiful.”
“Yeah.” Dante studies the drowsy but awake infant in his arms. “Guess even the most evil of our kind can have beautiful kids.”
“Brock wasn’t evil.” Corey finally looks at Dante’s face. “A jerk, but not evil.”
Dante steps closer to Corey and reaches around her to shut the door at her back, then steps forward, his hand lingering on the closed door by her head. “I was talking about Ilan.”
The denial sits on the tip of my tongue. The exchange between Corey and Dante stalls my retort. Energy sizzles in the air around them.
“This isn’t Ilan’s child, though. Makes your comment sound ridiculous.” Corey grins. “Especially since Brock and Ilan weren’t identical twins.”
“Biology doesn’t always matter, Corey. Neither do blood ties. This is Ilan and Sara’s son now.” Dante glances over his shoulder to catch my gaze. “And he’s a lucky kid to be loved and accepted so young. Took me a long time to find my home.”
A soft sigh slips past my lips. I nod, too overwhelmed with emotions to speak. My family is unorthodox, but they’re still mine. And at the moment, the circle of my family keeps growing. So does my determination to see them safe and happy.
I step next to Corey and Dante and brush my hand over Soren’s head. “Then let’s go see Daegan so we can make sure Soren keeps Ilan as a father figure in his life.”