“She really is just a cat shifter. Nothing more. So no help there.”
Fuck. It just might come down to him locating Martine’s mother. He didn’t want to go behind her back, but he wasn’t going to lose her either.
Lose her? You don’t have her to lose, pal.
I meant let her die.
No. You meant let her go, Mr. Freudian Slip.
“So, one last question,” Max said, interrupting his thoughts.
“Go.”
“You’re sure she’s telling you the truth about this Escobar? You’re sure he really makes her steal magic from others and it’s not the other way around?”
He knew it was Max’s job to ask, knew he was doing it for his own good and the good of the pack, but it pissed him off anyway. He leaned forward over the table, his eyes full of a deadly stare aimed right at his brother. “I’m sure. Don’t ask again.”
Max just smiled—smugly. “Aw, all that bark over a woman you claim you don’t want to set up housekeeping with.”
Derrick clenched his fist. “Enough.”
Max, still smiling, rose, his gaze catching JC as she and Martine and Nat turned the corner outside and headed toward the bar. “You’ve got ’til the end of today to talk to Martine about finding her mother. Then I go fishing, brother. Don’t make me play the alpha card with you and demand you take action.”
As the women entered the bar and Martine’s eyes met his, her smile bright and welcoming, warmth invaded his chest.
The kind of warmth that comes with compatibility, anticipation, comfort.
As she approached him, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it in order to hang on to that feeling for just a little longer before she blew her stack. “Come with me, Pussycat. We need to have a talk.”
She grinned, winking up at him and leaning in, putting her hand on his chest. “Is it the kind of talk we had in the storeroom just the other day? Like the one where I ended up with sticky notes stuck to my butt?”
Derrick couldn’t help but chuckle. That had been a pretty damn good talk.
But he shook his head, slapping on a serious face. “Nope. Not this time, you lusty wench.”
She pouted prettily, her glossy bottom lip thrusting outward. “Boo-hiss.”
As he led her to his office in the back, he prepared himself for a lot of booing and hissing.
* * *
“Absolutely not!” Martine yelled at him, hopping off the chair opposite his. “My mother is off limits!”
His eyes narrowed as he rose, determination written in them. “Look, Martine, your life could very well be in danger simply because of the mate. If what I suspect is true, Escobar could play a role in that. I want to be prepared. You do remember the part of the curse where it states it’s supposed to be impossible for me to mate, right? It’s bad enough I could end up dead. What if it’s impossible to avoid because you end up dead? I damn well won’t let that happen to you!”
Martine swallowed hard, wrapping her sweater around her waist tighter. “And you think my mother can stop that? How, Derrick? The only magic I ever saw her perform was silly stuff like snapping her fingers to turn off the lights and stirring a pot of soup for that pathetic excuse of a father I had while she wasn’t even near the stove!” No. Not ever.
She paced the floor, processing the plan Derrick had laid out, her legs trembling.
“You yourself admitted you don’t know a lot about her background as a familiar because she sheltered you from the life—because she didn’t want your father to abuse your possible powers. How do you know what she’s capable of and whether or not she can help you?”
“Don’t forget you! This won’t just help me—it’ll help you!”
Gripping her shoulders and stopping her in her tracks, his jaw clenched. “Fine. Yes. It’ll help me, too. But there’s no way I’m leaving this earth without knowing you’re safe.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Not now. She couldn’t acknowledge words that heavy and so full of possession right now. “My father is a vicious, spiteful man, Derrick. If he knew she was helping me, I’m afraid of what would happen to her at his hands. I can’t let you risk her life!”
Derrick’s chest lifted and released as he took a deep breath. “I would never endanger your mother, Martine. I promise you. But I’m not going to let an opportunity to see if she can offer help slip by. That’d be damn foolish.”
Sorrow seeped into her soul. God, she missed her mother. “She won’t see me, Derrick.” She’d made it clear the day Martine left that she wouldn’t ever see her again.
No explanation.