“I’m so sorry.” Elena never was good with spouting platitudes about another person’s grief.
Suddenly, another girl plopped down next to her on the couch and Liz brightened. “Elena, this is my good friend, Chelsea Wilson.”
They shook hands. Clay had mentioned Chelsea was the realtor who’d stumbled across a dead body. If that wasn’t bad enough, she’d spotted the killer running away. Unfortunately, for her, he decided she shouldn’t live.
Elena wanted to pick their brains. “Can I ask you both something?” Her gaze snapped between the two.
Chelsea leaned in closer. “If it’s about being with two amazingly hot men at once, go for it.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s about how you handle being with men in such dangerous jobs.”
Chelsea glanced at Liz then back at her. “Did your men tell you about the poison bullets?”
“No.” It was quite clear she didn’t know all that much about them. Between Liz and Chelsea, she got quite the history lesson about werewolves.
Chelsea was the chatterbox. “The Pack needs to stop the Colters because they are so hard to kill. If the FBI or the police ever got involved, a lot of human lives would be lost.”
“That makes me feel better.” Both Clay and Dirk had been in near death skirmishes, yet an hour later, they hardly had a scratch on them. It was only after the fact that Dirk told her about the attack on the guard.
Clay sauntered over with a deviled egg in his hand. “There you are. Come meet some of my cohorts.”
Both of her new friends stood. “We’ll introduce you to our men, too.”
As she followed Liz, she spotted the large diamond ring on her finger. “I see congratulations are in order.”
Liz grinned and wiggled her hand. “Yeah. I got the best two, but you both have fine men, too.”
Elena wouldn’t trade hers for anything. Hers? When had she started thinking in terms of keeping them both?
Clay held out his hand and when their fingers touched, a tremor raced through her. This man did something to her at a molecular level. Clay introduced her to about ten more Pack members, but she had a hard time remembering their names. All were muscular, well-groomed, and somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five.
She looked up at Clay. “Are there any fat werewolves?” Mr. Couch only had a small pooch, but he was significantly older.
“Plenty, but we train to keep in good shape to fight the Colters.”
That made sense. Clay introduced her to a few women who he said had shifter dads. More questions bombarded her. “Can they shift, too?”
“Don’t worry. Only men can shift. These women only have a very slight difference in their DNA from you.”
For the next two hours, she stayed with either Dirk or Clay enjoying the Pack’s tales of heroism. She suspected the more they drank, the more the tales became exaggerated.
Trax’s phone rang and he had to hold a hand over his ear. Eventually, he stepped down the hallway. He returned, made a beeline to the music system, and shut it down.
“Dirk, Brandon, Sam, Drake, and Kurt. We have a job to do.”
Her heart sank. The party had been so much fun. She tugged on Clay’s arm. His jaw had tightened, and his shoulders appeared stiffer than cement.
“Do you know what’s going on?”
She doubted he could know as only Trax received the call, but perhaps this happened often.
“No. Let me find out.”
At least he hadn’t been asked to go. Perhaps Trax figured Clay needed to take care of her. The mood of the partygoers turned dark as Trax gathered his team.
Liz and Chelsea came up next to her. “This sucks, huh?” Liz said.
She studied both women. “You seem to be used to this sort of thing.”
Liz nodded. “Trax is one of the group leaders, so he’s always getting the call. The general has his number on speed dial.” She seemed more resigned than worried.
Clay trotted back to her. “Seems there’s been a tip about another human sale. The general gave the orders to take them down.”
Both Liz’s and Chelsea’s brows furrowed. Elena’s stomach churned at the horror they might uncover. “None of the men can die, right?”
Chelsea placed a hand on her shoulder. “Not unless the special bullet pierces their heart or enough poison hits the bloodstream and they can’t get the antidote made in time.”
Clay drew her near. “Let’s not scare my mate to death.” He kissed her forehead. “Dirk can handle himself, as can the other men.” He glanced from Chelsea back to her. “Kurt offered his beach house to us tonight.”
“A home on the beach sounds wonderful.” The idea of being alone with Clay was appealing, but knowing her, she’d be worried about Dirk the whole time.