Chapter One

 

Beckett pulled his long hair back in a messy bun and grabbed his sweatpants from the floor. His stomach rumbled. Technically, it was closer to lunchtime, but he was in the mood for French toast or waffles or pancakes. Anything he could drown in syrup. Maybe he should just skip the food and down a bottle of maple syrup instead. Decisions, decisions.

He left the master suite and descended the long staircase. "Potter?"

She didn't come at his call. He frowned. She was usually waiting with at least a cup of coffee when he got up. It didn't matter how late it was in the day.

He checked the kitchen and found it empty. He growled low in his chest.

"Patrick? Emily?" He called for the butler and maid as he went through each room on the lower level. He rapped at their bedroom doors and was greeted with more silence. Beckett kicked the door to Patrick's room open just to be sure no one was hiding inside.

Empty.

Had all of his servants taken the day off without asking?

He checked the calendar Potter had hung in the kitchen and got his answer. Penciled in was Staff Town Visit.

What the heck? He knew that wasn't there the day before. He had a few things from town that he needed, but it was a few days before the trip was planned.

He opened two cabinets and found three bags of instant coffee. He studied all three, smelling the beans to try to figure out which was his brand. He knew that Potter kept a stash for herself that was flavored. But all the bags had some kind of flavor. There was a vanilla, a hazelnut, and a pumpkin. He was sure that pumpkin wasn't for him, but after smelling it, he decided to give it a try.

The coffeemaker took another few minutes to figure out. He was ready to throw it against the wall before the thing started working. He was never going to argue with Potter again when she asked for a replacement. He would find one this afternoon after work. It should never be this difficult to make a single cup of coffee.

After waiting for a minute, he got bored waiting for water to boil. The sun was beckoning him. He needed to check on the progress the landscapers were making anyway.

He'd hired them to fix the mess his dragon shifter friend had made of the grounds. Jasper Collins was one of his oldest friends and one of the most prominent shifters in the entire country. When he'd needed to lie low for a while, Beckett couldn't have been happier to offer him a place to stay. He loved living in his mountain fortress, but sometimes it got lonely. He wished there were more trustworthy shifters in the area. When Jasper had made the call, Beckett knew it was going to be a great few weeks.

Jasper had been nursing a broken heart and had been down with roughhousing whenever possible. Beckett loved when he got the chance to let his bear run free and Jasper's dragon hadn't held anything back. The resulting mess had been fine with him, but Potter had hated looking at the charred grass and broken trees. He didn't want her to be unhappy, so he'd found the best landscapers money could buy and flown them in to fix what he and Jasper had done.

The team was worth every penny. In less than two weeks, they had already undone much of what the damage. While he was surveying the work, he spotted his beloved nanny-turned-house manager. "Mrs. Potter! I've been looking everywhere for you. Where is everyone?"

She sat up on the chaise she'd dragged from the porch. "In town. We needed some supplies."

"Why are you out here?"

Mrs. Potter hated the sun and the heat. She spent most of the summer in the cool air-conditioned house. He wondered why she'd risk getting sun damage on her unblemished skin. She wasn't even wearing a hat. For a human, she looked much younger than her age. Some of that was due to the mate mark from her late husband, but also because she avoided the sun. She'd been studious about for as long as he could remember.

"I couldn't bear to stay in there and listen to that man for a second more." She glared at Beckett. "Don't you think you could speak to the poor man and put him out of his misery?"

He shrugged. "I don't even hear him anymore. He'll tire of this and go away soon."

"He will not. I don't understand why you won't talk to the man."

"I told you," he said. "If I speak to this human, more will come. I'll lose my mysterious persona. They won't be afraid of me anymore."

"Well I can't take this. Call the police or talk to him." Mrs. Potter turned her attention back to her Kindle with fierce determination. He would be making his own breakfast this morning.

He walked back to the house muttering curses. He should have known better than to ever talk to a human when he was in town. He shouldn't have even gone to town in the first place, but he'd been craving a slice of pizza. That fateful weekend, he'd already given the servants the weekend off and Jasper had left for home after being reunited with his mate.

Even though he was sad seeing his friend go, Beckett had been in a great mood. He loved seeing people he loved find their mates. Feeling magnanimous, he'd given the staff the whole weekend off and let his rules slide. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He had made his rules for a reason. If he'd followed them, he wouldn't be in this mess now.

He wouldn't make that mistake again. And he was going to get a gate. That had been his plan when he'd first moved here, but Potter had convinced him it was unnecessary. He was already "shunning the world" so there was no need for a big menacing gate around the property. She'd been right too. He'd never even gotten door-to-door salesmen or anything of the sort. Until he'd been stupid enough not only to go to town but to talk to a damn human once he was there.

His favorite pizza place didn't deliver to the mansion and without any servants, he had to go get it himself. When he got there, he had to wait a few minutes for his food. They were so busy and the place was packed. He'd stood patiently and scrolled through his phone as he waited. Even though he hadn't made eye contact with anyone and tried to look busy, an old man wearing odd clothes had struck up a conversation with him.

The old guy had seen something on a tabloid cover that he was apparently dying to talk about. It had been some crazy story about the Collins family. Real salacious stuff, like that Jasper's mom stayed looking young because she sacrificed virgins or something. The old man was agitated and was telling Beckett how insane the story was. The man knew a lot about shifters and Beckett had been glad to hear a human smart enough to know the crazy rumors were all horse shit.

He'd talked with the man and expressed how much he admired a man who did his own research. It was a short conversation on Beckett's part. He hadn't said more than four sentences, five tops. But he'd left the place feeling good and had a great night eating pizza and watching movies.

That initial good feeling was deceiving. The guy who had seemed so sane was anything but. Two weeks later the man had turned up on his doorstep. Beckett had no idea what he wanted, but he'd asked the butler to tell him to go away. The man had gone but had been back the next day and again the day after that. He'd come back every single day. He came and knocked on the door calling for Beckett. It was incredibly annoying. Didn't he have a job or a family? Beckett didn't even know how the man had found him. 

Mrs. Potter had said to just call the police, but Beckett thought that was going too far. He didn't want to ruin the guy's life. He just wanted him to get off his doorstep. Now it looked like he wasn't going to have much choice. He could make his breakfast once a week, but if this guy annoyed Potter enough to shirk her duties, Beckett was having none of it.

He stomped to the front of the house and threw open the door. He let his shifter side show, his teeth and nails elongating.

He pulled himself up to this full height and glared at the man. "What do you want?"