Dead Heat Page 50

“That’s what we think, too,” said Anna.

“What we have been doing is compiling two lists. The first is weird things that have happened in the vicinity of the day care. For the second, Leeds suggested that maybe the fetch was not the first or the last this fae has made. So we’ve made some calls to local counselors, psychologists, and anyone else we could think of, asking about children who have had sudden personality changes. We still have some calls coming in on that. What we’d like to do is have you ride with me for the weird things and Charles ride with Leeds and Marsden looking into the kids. I know you usually work together, but neither the Cantrip agents nor I could tell if someone was fae or fetch if they spit on us.”

“Leeds can’t tell if someone is fae or not?” Anna asked.

“He says he’s hit-and-miss, and we can’t afford a miss. We have eleven calls to make; with luck we can do most of those today.”

“Fast work,” Anna said. She heard a huff of breath that might have been a laugh, hard to tell over the phone.

“We have a kid in danger, Anna. We take that seriously. Lots of folks have been up all night putting this information together for us.”

“Yes,” said Anna. “So where do you want to meet up? I don’t know this area, so I’ll need a real address.”

When she hung up, she looked at Charles, who was toweling off his hair; he’d heard most of the call. “We get to go and make people talk.”

“Sounds good,” he said. “I’ll try not to scare some poor kid so badly he can’t talk for a year. You try not to get attacked by some fae who doesn’t understand how dangerous you are because you look so soft and sweet.”

She thought about her reply for a moment because his voice was just a little too neutral.

“Nah,” she said casually, answering him as if she thought her reply didn’t matter. “You scare adults pretty good—you’ve got that ‘I could kill you with my little finger’ thing going for you. But the kids or the adults who are hurt … you are safe and they know it. Doesn’t mean they aren’t shy with you, but they know they’re safe.” She’d known it.

Sure he’d scared her when she first met him—she wasn’t stupid. He was big and she knew all about how even between werewolves, big counts. But her instincts had told her that this one, this one would stand between her and anyone who would hurt her. That aura of guardianship—that was what made her mate such a powerful Alpha.

Charles just stared at her.

“You know that, right?” she said. “Most people stay out of your way, but the defenseless ones, the hurt ones, they just sort of gradually slide into your shadow. Not where you’ll notice them too much—but you keep the bad things away.”

He still didn’t say anything. She buttoned her jeans and then took the two steps to press against him. “We know,” she whispered to him. “We who have been hurt, we know what evil looks like. We know you make us safe.”

He didn’t say anything, but his arms came around her and she knew that she had told him something he didn’t know—and that it mattered.

Charles had one of Kage’s people drop them off at the airport, where he rented a car as Mr. Smith. He took out the fake driver’s license with the credit card he kept for Mr. Smith. Anna watched him fill out the fake address without hesitation.

When they were walking toward the elevator in the parking garage that would take them to their car, she whispered, “For an honest man, you lie pretty smoothly, Mr. Smith.”

He gave her one of his eyes-only smiles.

There were four cars to choose from, identical except in color. Charles raised an eyebrow at Anna and she trotted around them, pondering.

“Gray, white, and silver would all blend in,” she told him.

“By all means let’s take the metallic orange,” he agreed somberly. She grinned at him.

She drove the orange car and he navigated. Brother Wolf didn’t like traffic, didn’t like driving at all, and was unpredictable enough in his road rage that Charles didn’t like to drive, either, if he could avoid it. And both of them trusted Anna, he’d told her.

She knew that she wasn’t a spectacular driver; the best she could do was steady and law-abiding. She didn’t take chances and she laughed about the rude drivers. Even Brother Wolf had to work to get upset about someone making Anna laugh, Charles told her.

She sincerely hoped that over the next few days they didn’t meet the guy who’d flipped her off as they left the airport. Only by slamming her brakes hard had she avoided hitting him. Why was it that the people who made idiots of themselves immediately felt it necessary to compound their sins by flipping off the people who saved them from possibly fatal mistakes?

Yes, she hoped that the moron didn’t come anywhere near Charles anytime soon.

With Charles running the car’s navigation system, they made it to the coffee shop exactly on time. They managed greetings all around—and coffee in great big cups.

“If I could get a permanent IV of this stuff into my veins,” Marsden murmured as they all filed out of the coffee shop and into the parking lot, “I’d go into a happy coffee coma and never come out again until I died of sheer contentment. Not just any coffee, you understand, only extra-dark mocha caramel from this shop.” He cupped it in both hands like it was something precious to him.

Leeds sipped his apple cider and looked at Anna. “I know I’m weird,” he said. “But I was preoccupied and didn’t notice what the rest of you were discussing. You’ll have to forgive me if I ask you something you already answered for him. You said you and your husband are both werewolves?”

“Yes,” she agreed.

“How did that happen?” he asked earnestly. “Did he fall for you and then bite you? Or did you bite him? Or did you go to a werewolf dating site? I didn’t know there were actually women werewolves at all. The only ones you see on TV are men.”

Marsden thunked him gently on the back of the head. “I can’t leave you with anyone, can I? I like having you as a partner. It’s refreshing working with someone who can speak in whole sentences, and I can use words of more than one syllable. Please, for my sake, make an effort not to irritate werewolves. New partners are a crapshoot.”

“No,” said Anna, laughing. “It’s okay. We met because I got myself into trouble and I called for help.” She glanced at Leslie. “Like your bosses did in the Boston case. Charles came and cleaned up my trouble neat as you please. I thought, ‘Hey, I could use a guy like that.’ So I kept him.”

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