Shift Happens(36)

“I would never do that to you. To anyone.”

My head shook back and forth in denial. Wick wasn’t the problem. It was me. He would never understand that.

Reading my reaction the wrong way, Wick stroked my face. “You can trust me, Andy. Our wolves have chosen each other. This will be a true mating.”

My body relaxed as Wick’s alpha power smoothed over me like a calming balm. Reaching up, I clasped Wick’s hand and removed it from my face. “It’s not that simple,” I said, and released his hand.

“Yes, it is.” He stepped forward.

“You’re forgetting something.”

“What’s that?” He smoothed my hair away from my face.

“I’m not a wolf. Not all of me, at least.”

Wick frowned. “That doesn’t bother me.”

“It should.”

“Why?”

“My wolf has chosen you, I won’t deny that. But my mountain lion hasn’t. What if she chooses another? What if my falcon does?”

Wick stiffened.

“Would you want to share me?”

His hands dropped to his side.

“That’s what I thought.” I took advantage of his shock, snatched the keys from his hand, and stalked out of the house.

I had no idea if having multiple forms complicated a true wolf mating, but Wick didn’t know that. I had to get out of here and away from him. The longer I spent in his presence, the less I was able to think, and remember the reasons why I shouldn’t be with him. And there were plenty. Wick belonged to Lucien. He might want to help me, or be with me, but ultimately he had to obey his master. His choices were not his own.

Wick called after me, but I didn’t hesitate. He could’ve caught up if he’d wanted, but he let me go. For both our sakes, I hoped he left me alone. We’d get hurt otherwise.





Chapter Eighteen


The gray building resembling an oversized children’s building block stared down at me. More oppressive than impressive, it possessed too many windows for an organization publicly priding itself on being supernaturally unbiased. It couldn’t be a comfortable destination for any Vampire. No supe liked feeling vulnerable. Although the SRD probably had sun-safe rooms inside, the impression given by the windows, or the ‘glass portals to the death star,’ made me want to turn around and go back to Wick’s house. Screw the SRD. But I couldn’t. I had to face them and clear my name.

The air smelled crisp and clouds moved in, dark and angry. A typical Vancouver Spring day. Tugging at the charcoal blazer I’d retrieved from my house, I gave my outfit a once over before walking into SRD headquarters. Agent Booth had said to dress comfortable, but I wasn’t showing up in sweats. I wanted to come across professional. The two piece business suit fit in with the downtown corporate look. I could’ve been a lawyer walking into a business meeting.

I pulled open the glass doors and took long strides to the security desk. No need to draw this out. My heels clicked loudly against the hard slate tile. The sound ricocheted off the walls. Crossing the large sterile expanse of the main lobby, I focused on the guards like they were two chocolate bars at the end of a diet.

They tensed and gave me a hard look. There was no mistaking the vanilla and honey scent. I tried not to lick my lips as I smelled the sweet air. Mmmm, Witches. They smelled good. Then again, so did demons. An unpleasant shiver travelled through my body. I would be ecstatic to never deal with a demon ever again.

Shaking my head of dark memories, I plastered on a fake smile before I reached the desk.

“Agent Andrea McNeilly to see Agent Booth. She’s expecting me.”

The security guard with the sandy-brown hair and green eyes, tapped away on the keyboard in front of him. The other guard with limp blond hair and a plain face didn’t turn toward me; instead, he surveyed the lobby room for possible threats, while watching me out of the corner of his eye.

“Your visitor pass.” Guard number one jutted his hand out too far and jabbed my arm with a plastic card.

“Thanks.” I snatched it away from him before he could do more damage. After clipping the pass to the lapel of my jacket, I looked at the guards expectantly and cleared my throat.

They returned my probing look with blank stares.

“Directions?”

“Through the metal detector, take the elevator on the right, tenth floor,” guard number two said with clipped tones. Clearly, he was annoyed.

“Thank you.” Hopefully my sarcastic tone came across so they’d know I meant the exact opposite. They nodded and went back to staring at the entrance. By far, the most boring Witches I’d ever come across.

Next time, I would ask for a later appointment so I could take the time to case the place. If there was a next time. The metal detector remained silent as I walked through. There were no weapons for it to detect, because I didn’t need them. I was a weapon. It amazed me the SRD had no idea what I was. They asked for disclosure during the interview and training process, but I declined to answer. According to our country’s laws, humans still had the right to refuse to identify themselves as anything that could be used to discriminate against them. Gotta love politics.