Deceit can be Deadly (Law of the Lycans Book 8) Read online

  “There’s no need to leave. I don’t mind if you stay.” He winked. “I’ve never been stalked before.”

  “I am not stalking you.”

  “So you say yet the evidence would seem to prove otherwise. You followed me here today and into the shop yesterday.”

  “I did not follow you yesterday. I was in the store first.”

  “Do you have proof of this?”

  “I—” She stopped and frowned. She didn’t have proof. Oh blast. She’d assumed she was in the store first, but had she really looked around upon entering? Or had her attention been on the items for sale? She took a deep breath to bring her temper under control, having resolved to be extra cautious around Lycans for the next while in case her vision had been a warning. “I’m sorry. We seem to be having a string of coincidental meetings.”

  “Yes. Odd given the size of Chicago.” He narrowed his eyes, making no effort to hide his suspicion.

  “Indeed.” She studied him with equal distrust. Something wasn’t right.

  Eventually, he shrugged. “Well, it was nice seeing you again.” He turned and picked up a pen. It seemed he was working on a puzzle in the newspaper.

  She turned in her seat, obviously dismissed, and picked up the menu tapping it thoughtfully in her hand. The shop yesterday. The club last night. And now the café. But why would he be following her? No reason came to mind. She considered her vision; a crying child, a sobbing woman. It had nothing to do with her present circumstances, and her inquiries with the wait staff at the club indicated none of them were having issues with children, lost or ill. The wolf was the only part that appeared to have a direct connection to her. She compressed her lips in annoyance. The vision was obviously a useless warning.

  Absentmindedly, she ordered tea and a fruit plate, all the while too aware of the man sitting mere feet away. She needed to find out more about him; his name or a picture would allow her to do a search on him. Even a sample of hair and a bit of clothing would suffice; there were spells that could divine character. Good solid magic was so much more reliable than visions.

  She ate while considering and discarding various means of gathering information about the Lycan. The entire time, her senses were tuned to his every move. It made her tense, twitchy, and she fought against the urge to turn and zap him with a truth-telling spell. In her youth, she might have done just that. He was lucky she’d developed some self-restraint.

  Finally, he pushed his chair back. Relieved, she allowed her muscles to relax only to realize he’d stopped at her table.

  “I trust we won’t meet again.” He gave her a pointed look.

  “I certainly hope not.”

  “Where do you plan to go today? So I can be sure we avoid another coincidence.”

  His question caught her off guard but she wasn’t that easily tricked. “None of your business.”

  “I sense animosity.”

  “Then you’d be correct.”

  “Hmm.” He seemed to consider her response before shrugging. “Unfortunate. I’ll be on my way then.” He turned to leave.

  “Wait.” He had an annoying habit of walking away.

  He half-turned towards her. “Yes?”

  “What’s your name?”

  He raised his brow but didn’t respond.

  “You do have one, don’t you?” She raised her chin and fixed her gaze on him, willing him to comply.

  “Most people do.” A thin smile accompanied his reply before he simply turned and left.

  If there hadn’t been human witnesses about, she’d have hurled a spell at him so fast his head would spin. Ha! Maybe the spell would have had his entire body spinning until he answered her. Now that would have been a fine sight!

  She played out the scenario in her mind while watching him stop at the counter to pay his bill and then walk away. Damn him. He was toying with her, feigning a lack of interest. Trying to lure her in by twisting the facts. And it was working. Not because she was intrigued by him, of course. He had an agenda that somehow involved her and she needed to know what it was. She hadn’t lived this long without learning the value of knowing one’s enemy. Perhaps…

  Giving a decisive nod, she strode to the till. She’d follow the Lycan and—

  “Your meal has already been paid for.” The cashier smiled at her.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “The man who just left paid for you.”

  “Really?” She thought for a moment and then slowly smiled, hoping to wheedle some information from the woman. “Did he say why? Perhaps leave a message for me? Or did you notice his name on his credit card?”

  “Sorry. No.”

  “Oh dear. We just met and I was hoping…”

  The woman gave her a sympathetic smile. “He said he wanted to pay for the delightful red-headed woman’s meal.”

  Gwyn nodded her thanks and left the bistro, muttering under her breath.

  Delightful?

  She snorted. He was mocking her. No one ever said she was delightful. Abrasive, bitchy, condescending… It was a persona she’d worked hard to cultivate over the years. Hell, even Matt commented on her caustic tongue.

  Shopping for jewellery had lost its appeal so she headed back towards the club. It might be a beautiful spring day but she wasn’t in the mood to…

  Her steps slowed. The Lycan was barely a block ahead of her, waiting at the curb for the light to change to green. She considered turning and going home a different way, then changed her mind. The sidewalk was public property. If he didn’t like sharing with her, he could go screw himself.

  She paused a few feet away and waited silently, staring at the walk-signal. The warm spring sun beat down, warming her shoulders while a gentle breeze caused a few loose tendrils to brush against her cheek. Irritated, she tucked the strands behind her ear. For some reason, the usually crowded sidewalk was empty, making her intensely aware of the man standing a few feet away. They were the only two waiting for the traffic to stop. Even so, she did nothing to acknowledge his presence.

  “I know you’re there.” He called the comment over his shoulder.

  She flicked a glance at him. He was tapping his nose. Right. A Lycan would be able to scent her presence even though she was behind him.

  “I’m heading back to the club.” She shifted her gaze back to the street light refusing to acknowledge the idle thought that he had an amazing profile. Strong, mature. A man, not a boy.

  “I’m heading to my hotel.”

  She nodded. The light changed to green and she crossed the street. The Lycan walked beside her, their strides matching perfectly.

  “A pleasant day.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re Gwyneth, correct?”

  “Common knowledge. Most Others know who owns Mystique.”

  “True.”

  They paused at the next light. Thankfully, a few more people were waiting. There was something about the Lycan that made her uncomfortable. She was too aware of him, like there was an invisible string which kept drawing her attention back to him.

  A bus stopped nearby and several people disembarked, many joining them at the corner. The Lycan stepped closer to her to accommodate the growing crowd.

  He leaned fractionally closer. “Dante.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “The answer to your earlier question. Dante.” The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Dante Esparza.”

  “Oh. Your name.”

  The light changed and they moved forward.

  He nodded. “It’s Dante, like in the Inferno.”

  “Ah, yes.” She flicked him a mocking glance. “And have you been to Hell?”

  His expression sobered, his eyes grew distant, almost haunted. “As a matter of fact, I have.”

  “I…” Something about his tone struck an unexpected chord in her and she struggled with how to respond.

  “No need to apologize.” He gave himself a small shake. They were now on the other side of the street. “If you ar
e going to continue stalking me, I’m going this way.” He gestured to the left.

  “I am not stalking you.”

  “In that case, our paths are now parting.”

  “Unless you visit Mystique again.”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  “No. A statement of fact. It is the place to go, after all.”

  “Indeed. It is.” He put out his hand and after a moment she took it. His grip was firm, the warmth of his hand seeping into the chill of her own.

  “Goodbye, Dante.”

  “À bientôt.” He gave her hand a light squeeze and then left.

  She watched him walk away, his stride unhurried. Hmm… À bientôt was French for ‘see you later’.

  Dante grinned to himself as he left. He could feel Gwyneth watching him, knew he’d confused her, caused her to doubt her initial suspicions. He’d planted the seed, given it a bit of water, and the beginnings of a shoot were showing. She’d followed him though she’d probably deny it. Now patience was needed. If you tried to force a bloom too quickly it might not flower at all.

  In the meantime, he’d indulge himself. His early morning trip had been successful in an unexpected way and he felt the need to celebrate. Perhaps he’d make use of the amenities offered by the hotel, or take in a show. Or, he could drive by the pack house, do a bit of surveillance. Keeping track of their activities had become a hobby of his whenever he passed through the area. He had enough scent mask that it was unlikely the local pack would be aware of him. Only the Alphas, Sam and Damien, knew him by sight. If he stayed alert—and he always was—then the chances of them being aware of his presence were slim.

  You will need to contact them eventually, his wolf reminded him.

  “The time isn’t right yet.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  That’s what you always say.

  “I know.”

  The animal gave him a knowing look but subsided, satisfied it had made its point.

  He and his wolf were closer than most. Given that he was frequently lumped into the realm of ‘rogue’ many would view their relationship as unusual. Rogues were often at odds with their inner beast. The difference was he was a rogue by fate rather than disposition.

  His phone rang. A glance at the number had him considering not answering but knew it was pointless. If he didn’t respond, they’d come looking for him and he didn’t need a bumbling Enforcer messing with his plans.

  “Dante here.”

  “Why are you in Chicago?” Reno Smith barked the question at him.

  “How nice of you to call.”

  “Bull. You want to talk to me about as much as I want to talk to you.”

  “Then you shouldn’t bother dialling my number, should you?” Dante chuckled to himself as his comment was met with silence. Smith was probably gritting his teeth. Good. The man should retire and go back to Kolding’s Pass.

  “I was told to keep tabs on you.”

  “That was last year. You were assigned to verify my role if the need arose.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “Stuck in your craw, didn’t it?” He recalled the event with a smile. Smith had hated having to work with him. “However, I’ve no need of your services this time.”

  “I was put on your case again.” Disgust laced the man’s voice.

  Dante frowned. Higgins was a paranoid ass. There was no need for backup this time. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Lycan Link thinks otherwise.”

  “I’ll point out that I don’t work for them. I don’t work for anyone.”

  “Correction. You work for everyone.”

  “Do I?” Dante quirked a brow. “I rather thought I worked for myself. If my purpose happens to match someone else’s then I see nothing wrong with using their funds to help my own cause.”

  “You’re a bastard for sale to the highest bidder.”

  “And yet Lycan Link, in all its sanctimonious glory, chooses to use my services.” Dante lowered his voice, having arrived at his hotel. He crossed the lobby and entered an awaiting elevator.

  “As a last resort.”

  “Believe what you want, Smith.” He was wearying of the conversation. “Was there a reason for this call?”

  “Just making sure you know I’m aware of your location.”

  Dante held back a snort. If he wanted to stay completely off the radar he could. He’d done it before after all.

  “Have you reported in to the local pack?” Smith prodded him.

  “I will. When it suits me.” He exited the elevator. His room was at the end of the hallway, close to the stairwell. Always handy to have an alternative exit close at hand.

  “Lycan law states—”

  “Screw Lycan law.” He slammed the door of his room shut, his patience gone. “Stay out of my way if you know what’s good for you.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Threat, warning, call it what you will. I have free rein to do whatever is needed.”

  “When you’re on an approved assignment.”

  “And how do you know I’m not?”

  Smith didn’t answer immediately and Dante couldn’t resist turning the knife.

  “Does it drive you crazy to realize you might not be in charge? That your precious Lycan Link could be using you as a pawn? Trying to make it appear their hands are squeaky clean in case something goes wrong?” He could hear a growl rumbling in the man’s throat and it filled him with immense satisfaction. “Listen Smith, the underbelly of Lycan Link is as dirty as that of any organization that has grown too big. It crawls in the mud when it needs to and makes use of the scum it finds there to slide along its chosen path.”

  “So, you admit you’re scum.”

  Dante felt his inner wolf arise and didn’t bother to hold the animal back. His reply rumbled from his lips. “I’ve never denied it. It’s been drilled into my head every minute of my life by supercilious ass-kissers like you.”

  “You had your chance. I’ve done some research on you. You were offered a legitimate position within Lycan Link.”

  “Ages ago. I declined. It’s not my fault that Lycan Link assumes if you aren’t with them, you’re against them. You, as much as anyone, should realize the world isn’t black and white. Consider your friend, Damien.” With that, Dante hung up. Let the mighty Reno Smith chew on that for a while.

  He dropped down on the bed, throwing his arm over his eyes to block out the light. The satisfaction he’d felt after laying the groundwork of his con had dissipated. He was tired. Tired of always being on guard. Tired of being dumped on by everyone he met. Tired of the guilt that lived inside him. Just…tired.

  Bastard, scum, mongrel… The derogatory epitaphs that had rained down on him were too numerous to recall. If he died tomorrow, the world would believe it was well rid of him and dance on his grave. In their eyes, his entire life wasn’t worth shit.

  He rubbed the centre of his chest, the ache heavy and deep. It usually didn’t bother him but some days...some days the wall he lived behind crumbled a bit.

  A heavy sigh escaped him and he pushed the maudlin thoughts away. He did what he had to do. Anyone who didn’t like it could go fuck themselves, right?

  His wolf nuzzled him with its cold nose, head-butting him and then lowering itself into the unmistakeable I-want-to-play posture.

  He curled the corner of his mouth. The animal understood him.

  Chapter 8

  Matt watched Gwyn scanning the crowd, just as she’d done for the past few nights. She was probably looking for the Lycan she’d encountered the other evening. From what she’d told him, the Lycan was an enigma, exactly the kind of challenge Gwyn couldn’t resist. Her interest in the man worried him.

  “Rudy, take over.” He tagged his cousin who was on a break, though you’d never know it to look at him. Even sitting down, he was intent on the crowd, arms folded over his massive chest.

  “Problem?” Rudy stood and ambled over.

  “No. I’ll
be back in a minute.”

  Matt left his post and walked over to where Gwyneth was standing. She was looking out the window at the line of people waiting to enter the club.

  “Gwyneth?”

  “Do you need something, Matt?” She shifted her attention to him.

  “No. I was wondering what was bothering you.”

  She shrugged. “Nothing important.”

  “You’re looking for the Lycan you asked about, aren’t you?”

  She gave a soft laugh. “I thought it’s elephants that never forget, not bears.”

  “Bears have excellent memories but it wouldn’t matter what kind of animal I was. Friends pay attention.”

  “Too intense, Matt.” She gave him a warning look.

  “Sorry.” He must have overstepped that invisible line she drew. He studied the crowd. “I don’t see your mystery Lycan.”

  “His name is Dante Esparza.”

  “And how did you come to that conclusion?”

  “I bumped into him at a café. He told me then.”

  “Really?” He frowned. “Seems a strange coincidence running into him like that.”

  “That’s what he said. He even accused me of following him.”

  “Dante, you say?”

  “Do you know him?”

  “The name sounds vaguely familiar but I don’t really follow the activities of Lycans unless they’re causing a problem here.”

  “Well, if you think of anything or hear anything about him, let me know.”

  “Of course.” He made a mental note to do some investigating on the man, maybe a quick internet search. Lycans were good at keeping under the radar but you never knew what might turn up.

  Gwyn gave him a nod and went on her way but not without another glance towards the door.

  Yes, Matt decided, this Dante guy had definitely captured her attention. Unusual given her dislike of Lycans. He hoped she knew what she was getting into. Or maybe, he should be more worried about this Dante guy. Gwyn was not a witch to mess with.

  Another day passed with no sign of Dante and Gwyn tried unsuccessfully to put him from her mind. It was odd how her thoughts kept being drawn back to him. She told herself it was because of the vision, a sense of self-preservation. Dogs had never brought her anything but grief.