He wrapped an arm around me and swung a long heavy leg over mine—the big spoon to my little one.
“What were you saying about Vampire research?” Wick’s voice cut the comforting silence of the room.
“Mmm?”
“You were going to use those mad Google skills. What for?”
“To search Newspaper articles and Press Releases. I need to find out what Vampire hordes are visiting the area.”
“Why?”
“I think one might be behind the attack.”
“Explain.”
My natural resistance to confide flared up like a brutal case of indigestion, but I closed my eyes and breathed through it. Wick might be able to help. I had to let down the steely gates around my heart and try to trust him—give him a shot. If he really was my true mate, he was my chance for a happy ending. So for the second time that night, I went through details with Wick, but this explanation wasn’t as personal. Wick’s body tensed as I spoke.
“Ethan,” he spat. “It’s Ethan.”
I turned around in Wick’s arms and raised a brow.
“Ethan Monroe is a visiting Master Vampire. His emissaries started coming to us a couple days ago asking benign questions and making random requests. Nothing big. We thought it odd, but now it makes perfect sense. Ethan sent them to scout us and explain his presence in the city.”
“Is this enough information to go to Lucien with?”
“No. He will want proof—some evidence that links him with your handler.”
“Do you know where he’s staying?”
Wick shook his head. “Somewhere in West Vancouver. His emissaries keep evading our tails. We’re not sure how he’s doing it.”
“Magic?” Witches had an uncanny ability to wipe out all traces of scent, if the price was right or the motivation high enough.
“Maybe. There’s no smell.”
I frowned.
“At all. The area they disappear from is completely devoid of any scent.”
Groaning, I draped a hand over my eyes. “I hate Witches.”
“They smell good, though.”
“They do.”
“Not as good as you.”
Remembering where his nose had been recently, my cheeks warmed at the same time a fire built lower down.
Wick’s thumb caressed my face. “So what is your plan?”
“I’m going to hope Angie has a date with Ethan’s vamps and follow her from the SeaBus terminal.”
“What if she doesn’t?”
“Then I scour West Van in a grid and hope to catch their scent.”
“And if you don’t?”
I groaned. “Aren’t you Mister Negativity? If none of this works, I’ll have to repeat the process.”
“You do not have the luxury of time.” Wick hesitated. “You know…you are not in this alone.”
“Well, what do you suggest?”
“Let me send the pack to West Van to work a grid while you sit on the receptionist.”
My eyes narrowed. “And if your pack catches their scent?” Wow. That came out a bit more accusatory than planned. Wick’s eyes widened and something flashed in his eyes.
“We phone you?” he answered slowly.
“It’s not a trick question, Wick.”
“I feel like you are accusing me with something.”
I let out a long breath and took a moment to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t know how far I can trust you.” Wick started to object, but I placed a finger on his lips. “Not because you want to betray me, but because you have to.”
“You don’t trust Lucien.”
“Not one bit.”
A pause. “Me neither.”
There was a long awkward silence where we both avoided eye contact. What was there to say? We were both in a difficult position.
“Let me help you. I don’t have any orders to sabotage your investigation or go running to Lucien instead of informing you.”
“Lucien could have ordered you to say that.”
“Yes. He could have. But if he did, I would not have offered to help. And you can smell a lie.”
I dropped my head so my nose was wedged against his neck between his cheek and the pillow. Taking a deep breath, I immersed my senses in Wick’s scent.
Good mate, my wolf panted. I shushed her and relaxed in the moment.
“I could get used to this.” Wick rubbed my back.
“Hmm?” I took another deep breath in. His scent was addictive.
“The purring.”
“Didn’t realize I was doing it.”
He continued to run his hands down my back. “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t, if you won’t. I love a good back rub.”
“Noted.” He kept his hands moving. “So?”