CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dried leaves are a bitch to get out of curly hair. Alaric and I strolled out of the maze in the late afternoon, both of us wearing grins as we picked crumbled brown leaves out of my hair. Our breath puffed white in the air, but damn, we had made that maze steam.
Alaric came to a halt, his pleased grin falling from his features as he eyed the white-haired shifter leaning against a tree close to our house. With brown eyebrows puckered, Alaric let his hands drop from my hair. “Jonathan? What are you doing here?”
Jonathan sighed, long and suffering. “Waiting fucking forever for you two to finish.”
Alaric wrapped his arm around my waist while we walked toward the man. “We were busy. What do you need?” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “Is Theron in trouble?”
“I wouldn’t be here if he were in trouble,” Jonathan mumbled. He stepped closer to us, pulling his CA jacket tighter around his torso to fight off the growing bite in the air. “He told me to stop by. As you know, my group’s been tasked to help you find Mr. Valentine. We’ve taken pictures of shifters that we didn’t immediately know who were in the area—and surrounding areas. Theron wants your mate to look at them first since she’s more than likely the last person to come into direct contact with him.”
“Ah.” Alaric nodded and then gazed down into my eyes. “Do you want to rest first? I can make us lunch while you take a short nap.”
Jonathan snorted, but peered off to the side, allowing us a semblance of privacy—even though he had more than likely heard exactly how exuberant we had been in the maze.
My lips pinched. Dammit, I was exhausted.
I may be immortal, but Alaric was good.
I coughed as my cheeks flushed, keeping my voice whisper soft, “Actually, I wouldn’t mind a nap.”
Jonathan scowled at whatever he was looking at.
Alaric flicked an annoyed glare in his direction, daring him to argue with his word over his own mate. When the man didn’t comment, Alaric shooed me toward the house. He stated gently, “I’ll wake you up when lunch is ready.”
I blew a kiss at him, my cheeks still flushed. Then I turned around and walked into the house. Sleep was needed to keep up with my shifter.
* * *
Alaric placed a plate of fried chicken and mashed potatoes, the goodies piled high, on my lap where I sat in the den, the room reminiscent of a hunting lodge, all dark colors and dark wooden furniture. It was masculine to the extreme. And extremely cozy. We were ready to talk now after I had lit a fire in the fireplace.
I tucked my feet under my legs, my thick wool socks keeping my feet nice and warm. “Thank you.”
Alaric winked and sat across from me, placing his booted feet up on the wood-planked coffee table between us. “We’ve already eaten, beauty. So go ahead.”
Jonathan stared at my plate. “She’s going to eat all that? That’s more than a shifter eats.”
My cheeks flamed red, but I growled, “I have a very healthy appetite. And I like to eat.”
His eyes dipped to my flat stomach. “Good genes, I guess.”
“Or working every fucking day on a boat since I was fifteen years old—sick or not,” I growled. “So don’t be rude. It’s not nice.”
His brows lifted. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’m not around women much anymore. I’ve forgotten their delicate constitutions.”
My eyes widened in shocked fury. “Are you shitting—”
Alaric held up a stopping hand in my direction. “He didn’t mean to be rude, beauty. He was being honest. It’s been many years since he started working for Theron.”
“And I still am.” Jonathan sat back on the couch next to me. “I don’t plan to stop anytime soon, either. I love my work too much.”
“You might try to get out a little more,” I said as delicately as I could, reining in my anger. I scooped up a bite of mashed potatoes. “What do you do for him?”
“Protection, occasionally. But I mostly kill people.”
I choked on my food, coughing hard around it. My watering eyes turned to my husband, assessing him for verification that I was sitting next to an assassin.
Alaric merely nodded.
I swallowed my food down with a dry throat. “Okay, so you have a specific skill set.” I peeked at him from the corner of my eyes, trying to be nice to the killer. “That’s wonderful you enjoy your work so much.”
What a load of shit I had just spewed.
But it worked!
The killer grinned, showing me all his pearly white teeth. “Enjoying one’s job is extremely fulfilling. Did you enjoy your job?”
Small talk with a man who killed humans.
“I enjoyed it enough. But I’m ready to relax for a little while. I plan to spend time at home until I get the itch to work again. I’m overdue for a long, long vacation.”
He nodded once, extremely studious. “Vacations are a must. They keep you more active when you’re on the job.”
I didn’t even want to think about his jobs.
Not while I ate a chicken leg.
“I totally agree.” I nodded and turned the conversation. “You said you had pictures of shifters you wanted me to view? I really hope I can help. This bastard needs to go down.”
Jonathan licked his bottom lip, tasting the blood of my words. He peered off to the side, his eyes glazing over. “Yes, he does.”
Quiet.
So very quiet.
I was betting this man was old.
Damn near an Ancient with his behavior.
When he didn’t say anything else for a minute, only the scraping of my spoon heard, I glanced at my husband for a little help. Except Alaric was staring into the fire, rubbing at his chin, lost in his own thoughts.
Apparently, it was thinking time.
I cleared my throat. Loudly. Keeping these immortals on track was a full-time job.
Alaric glanced in my direction, blinking his eyes a few times, clearing his thoughts. “Sorry. The dancing flames gave me a new idea for a building in King Eastern Province.”
Creative minds tend to wander.
It was normally adorable on him. Just not today with an assassin sitting directly next to me. My husband must really trust this man—or at least Theron’s judgment of his person.
“It’s fine.” I tipped my head to the silent assassin, escaping into his own mind about whatever assassins thought about. “But I think we got off track.”
Dark brown eyes viewed the other man, then he stated loudly, “You with us, Jonathan?”
Jonathan snapped back into the ‘now,’ not missing a beat. He lifted his arm and tapped his silver bracelet. “So these are the men we’ve snapped shots of. A few have disappeared, but we’ve been able to keep track of most of them. I do warn you, though, there are quite a few to look at. If you need a break, just let me know. I don’t want them all starting to blur together for you.”
“Thank you. I will let you know if I need a break.”
Both Alaric and Jonathan paused in action, tipping their heads to the sides. Jonathan’s brows pulled together, and he glanced at my husband, “Are you expecting company?”
Alaric shook his head but relaxed back into his chair. “No, but that’s Rune’s train. He’ll let himself in.”
Jonathan tapped on his bracelet, no longer on high alert. “Okay, Mrs. Wood. I’ll start from the beginning. Just flip through the hologram until you see someone you know.”
A hologram screen beamed up from his bracelet between us and a picture of a redheaded shifter appeared onscreen.
Alaric sat forward, evaluating the man.
I lifted my hand and pointed a finger, flipping to the next man. And then the next man. And the next one. This continued until I paused when Rune and Megan entered the den hand-in-hand.
“Hey, bastard. Looks like you’ve got an intuitive mate! I heard what your mate thinks is going on,” Rune stated in greeting. They walked forward, and he high-fived me with his free hand. “Nice work, little lady.”
I shrugged. “It’s just a theory. It’s probably wrong.”
“But it’s a different theory than we already had, and we were running low on a supply of new ones,” Megan chirped. She and Rune took the love seat to my left, her eyes gazing at the hologram. “What are you doing now?”
Alaric supplied, “She’s looking to see if she recognizes any shifters. They’re potential Mr. Valentines.”
All ignored Jonathan sitting next to me.
I glanced in his direction.
Jonathan was merely staring out a window, apparently used to the silent treatment and not even being greeted by those he knew. The assassin led a lonely life. I wondered if he had any friends—any real friends. I had been that person before, had been most of my life. Self-imposed solitude was a blessing and curse.
I leaned toward him, and stated honestly, “Jonathan, thank you for what you’re doing. I’m not sure if you heard about what happened to me, but I appreciate your hard work to catch him. It makes me feel safer knowing you’re on our side.”
The rest of the room went silent, all conversation abruptly cutting off to stare at me as if I had a third eye winking at them.
Jonathan’s eyes swiveled in my direction. His gaze traveled over my features, gauging my words, and then he dipped his head to me. “You’re most welcome, Mrs. Wood. I try to help our people in the best way I can.”
I smiled, a real one for the first time with him. I patted his leg with the hand not holding my plate, and murmured, “That is very kind of you.”
“My work is not kind.”
“Oh, I know. But it’s still kind of you to look out for those who can’t—or won’t—to make it safer for us to live peacefully.”
His blink was unhurried, and then a smile spread across his features. It was real and pleased, surprised by the attention. “Thank you, Mrs. Wood.”
I shook my head. “Call me Faith.” I nudged his shoulder with mine. “We’re buds now. First name basis only.”
“All right, Faith.”
I smirked. “Okay, I’m going to get back to checking out shifters.”
His lips twitched. “You’re not supposed to say that in front of your husband.”
Ah! He had a sense of humor.
I laughed and flicked the screen again, returning to my work on bastard hunting. Though my eyes flicked to my husband, gauging his reaction to my banter with the killer.
A small smile graced his lips, his eyes gentle.
I winked at him, and then went back to flipping.