Lexxie’s tucked away where her pack can’t find her, which is what you should do with her best friend.
Ron’s persistence made Jake smile. Ron was taking his new responsibilities very seriously. Your objection is noted—again.
Are you on your way to Erin?
I am, but how’d you know?
That’s where I’d go. Anything else?
Not right now.
With characteristic brusqueness, Ron pinched off the link.
“Who were you talking to?” Heather asked.
“Ron.” Jake glanced at her with renewed curiosity. “How’d you know I was talking to someone?”
“Most wolves can sense a surge in psychic energy. Only a few of us can eavesdrop on the actual conversation, but most are aware of telepathic communication.”
“Good to know.”
“Is Ron the huge blond guard who told you to ditch me?”
Jake chuckled. “That’s the one.”
“Did he find anything on the mountainside?”
“No, but they found Lexxie and took her somewhere safe.”
“Thank you for arranging that. I couldn’t live with myself if she was harmed because she tried to help me.”
“It was no big deal and we’ll keep her tucked away until the storm blows over.”
“Thanks,” she murmured as her eyelids drooped. She blinked several times and shook her head.
“Don’t fight it, angel. Neither of us got much sleep last night.” The endearment just slipped out but their gazes locked and awareness pulsed between them. “You’re safe with me.”
* * * * *
Nate glared at Braden, unable to hide his impatience. The other alpha had arrived at the Clubhouse a few minutes ago without so much as a bodyguard. Nate had been strategizing with John Risdon at the time, so Risdon slipped into Heather’s office where he could cover Nate without being seen before Nate opened the front door for their uninvited guest. Braden might be too arrogant to perceive Nate as a threat but Braden was dead wrong.
“Someone tried to kill Jake Parlain,” Braden began, not bothering with a greeting. His strange, pale-blue gaze watched for Nate’s reaction to the news.
“Is Jake dead?” The Clubhouse wouldn’t open for another hour and half so they had the place to themselves.
“No. The female assassin failed.”
“And why the hell do I care about tiger drama?”
“Because there was an unidentified female in the hot tub with Jake. She had long reddish-blonde hair and bright-blue eyes.”
“Lots of women have blonde hair and blue eyes.” Nate fought the urge to look at Risdon, not wanting Braden to realize they weren’t alone.
“Maybe so, but few of them smell like wolf.”
Fury spread through Nate like poison. He clenched his fists and glared at Braden with icy focus. “Heather hates cats. Those damn rebels brainwashed her brother. There is no way she’d—”
“I didn’t come here to argue with you.” Braden’s calm indifference stoked Nate’s anger into a brighter blaze. “This is simple courtesy. I was on the fence about all this before. I have no desire to go to war with the cats. I officially withdraw my interest in your daughter.”
“Coward,” Nate sneered.
Braden waved away the insult and left the Clubhouse without a backward glance.
Nate grabbed a mug off the bar and threw it against the wall. The glass shattered with a musical crash so he grabbed the next item on the bar, which happened to be his phone. He watched the phone burst apart on impact and realized he’d just cost himself several hundred dollars. “God damn it!”
Risdon rushed out of the office as Nate turned his fury on the nearest table. He swiped the table with his arm, sending the upturned chairs flying.
“Do you believe him?” Risdon asked from across the room.
Panting harshly, Nate grasped the edge of the table with both hands and looked at the hunter. “Do I believe Heather is fucking a cat? Of course not!”
“Then why are you so angry?”
Damn good question. Jake was rich and powerful with the slick sort of appeal that drove females crazy. Had Heather fallen prey to the tiger’s practiced charm? Had she been so desperate she traded her body for—no! He wouldn’t even consider the possibility. “I need to find her today and I’m running out of options.”
Risdon shook his head. “She’s holed up in some cheap hotel in the middle of nowhere.”
Nate narrowed his gaze and moved toward Risdon. “You think or you know?”
“Nothing else makes sense. If she was still in Colorado someone would have seen her.”
“But she has nothing, no money, no identification, not even clothes.”