Possession (Shifters Forever More Book 3) Page 5

  When did she start thinking like this? What happened to the little girl who still sucked her thumb at the age of five and sulked in corners of a gigantic, dark, cold castle because her father’s family made fun of her. Of everything about her. Because her mother dumped her at his doorstep. She was a wanderer, a nomad who traveled throughout Europe. One who became the friend of druids. Why didn’t she just keep doing that? When did she become some counteragent in a game of evasion? How did she get here? By helping Allegra. And how did she come to be back in the family fold? She, the black sheep of the family, who’d escaped in her teens, how did she get sucked back into the castle, to be in the right place and the right time to help Allegra, then to end up here. Playing counteragent with some hunk—she glanced at said hunk, what with that profile, that chest—and she bit back a sigh. The man had no right to be so damned sexy. But back to how she’d ended up here. A phone call. One little phone call from a cousin—the only cousin who hadn’t tormented her when she was a child—to come help her with a problem, and one thing led to another, and here she was.

  Lana shook her head, pushed those thoughts away and peeked over Slate’s shoulder, studying the laptop. He was actually Googling morgues. She rolled her eyes, thankful he couldn’t see her expression of disdain. This was not how they’d find his brother. She knew it. Somehow, in her gut, she knew it.

  “I saw that,” he murmured.

  Her gaze flew up and caught him watching her in the rearview mirror. “Wh—?”

  “Don’t bother. I saw the way you rolled your eyes. You think—”

  “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t want to let him finish. She didn’t want to hear him say he’d seen her roll her eyes. God, such betrayal. If she were in his place, she wouldn’t want to work with someone who didn’t believe. “I just—” How could she explain that the task of finding his brother by scouring morgues was hopeless?

  “I get it.” He ground the words out. “Why don’t you call your buddy, your beau, to come get you. I can do this on my own.”

  “No. It’s not… No. I won’t do that. I’m with you on this.”

  “Nah.” His eyes were vacant. As though he’d lost hope. He pointed to the laptop. “All these little towns peppering the damned countryside. What am I supposed to do, go to them one by one, looking for their morgue, asking if they have Dunnigan Youngblood? Or someone who looks like him? Praying I find the right one before someone gets word of it and they find me and pick me up again? And what if it takes a week to find the one he’s in? What then? What if he’s actually dead? What if—”

  The phone rang.

  Loud.

  Lana flinched. It was Tito’s phone, so who else would call but him?

  The expression on Slate’s face said he was thinking the exact same thing. The line of his jaw grew taut, his eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you going to answer it?” He snapped his head in a quick tilt, indicating the still ringing phone.

  She picked it up. “Yes?” She couldn’t avoid the hesitant tone in her voice. She was worried about what Tito would have to say. She was worried about him. And mostly, she was worried about the man she’d seen on an examining table in a morgue. And how futile the thought that they could find him was. He could be anywhere. Any town. Any country, for that matter.

  “Dunnigan Youngblood’s trail has been found,” Tito said.

  “His trail? Not him?”

  “So far.” Tito hesitated, then added, “Give the phone to his brother, please.”

  She put her hand over the phone’s microphone. “He wants to talk to you,” she whispered to Slate. “Said they found his trail and he wants to speak to you.”

  He took the phone. “This is Slate Youngblood.”

  Silence filled the truck as he listened. Finally, he said. “Thank you,” pressed the phone’s screen, set it on the dash, then faced forward. Motionless, expressionless, speechless.

  Lana waited. Patiently. Until she didn’t wait. “Well?”

  “They found him. His ID. He was in an explosion. Blown to bits. Unidentifiable.” His voice broke.

  She narrowed her eyes. “No.”

  “No?”

  “In the visions, the man on the table wasn’t blown to bits. He was very much identifiable. That means your brother wasn’t blown up. Come on. Surely you get how government ops work. I’m not even from this country and I get it.”

  “The morgue where the explosion happened. The one we saw in the visions. The one where he was lying on the table.”

  She gasped. “Shit,” she whispered. That was not what she’d anticipated hearing.

  “So you see, he is dead.” His voice was flat. He chewed on his lip.

  She shook her head, still not willing to believe. “You buy it?”

  “Not fully. Which is why I’m going to the morgue that blew up.” He started the car.

  “Good.”

  “But first, I’m going to drop you off somewhere you’ll be safe. At the B&B.” He nosed the pickup out of the parking spot and turned the blinker on.

  “The hell you are.” She put her hand on his arm. “Slate. No.”

  “Don’t you see this isn’t safe? It’s not a game.” His face had gone gaunt. His eyes were empty.

  Lana couldn’t have said what it was about him that stirred a resolve within her to stay the course. She had no intention of abandoning this man. And she’d never felt anything so powerful in her life. “It never was a game. But we need to figure this out. And I do mean we.”

  “I can’t let you get involved. I’ll come back with your skills after I find out the truth or find my brother’s body. Whatever is left of him.”

  She ignored that. She would ignore all of his insistences. She wouldn’t get out of the truck when he got to the B&B. “What did Tito say?”

  “That he was seen at Cinco Ridge and his body was taken to Morgan’s Run.”

  “Who told him that?”

  “All he said was sources. His sources. Those towns aren’t far from Bear Canyon Valley.”

  She snatched the phone and pressed on Tito’s number.

  “Pronto.”

  “Tell me what you told Slate. Then tell me more.”

  Tito repeated the same thing Slate had told her, then added. “Let me call Griz.”

  She looked across the truck’s cab at a morose Slate. “No. He doesn’t want him involved at this point.”

  “Cara, let me send a team to the morgue to doublecheck things.”

  “That might be a good idea.” She considered asking Slate’s opinion, but Tito barged forward.

  “Fine. I’ll take that as a yes. We will send a team to take DNA samples to compare to your friend’s. To determine if that is your friend’s brother. You have had visions of this, I suppose?”

  She thought back to the day she’d told Tito about her ability to see visions. When she’d tearfully explained to him the curse of having visions and how she didn’t measure up to her family’s sorcery standards, he’d hugged her and told her not to underestimate her gift. That it was, in fact, a gift, not a curse. The sound of his throat clearing pulled her back to the present. He’d asked if she had visions of this. Sure, of course. But she couldn’t tell him Slate had taken her skills and had seen the same visions as well, but she could confirm she’d seen them. “Yes. His brother was lying in a morgue.”

  “And now the Morgan’s Run morgue has suffered an explosion.”

  “Is it the same morgue from my vision?” Lana wasn’t sure. She had no way of ascertaining this. She also didn’t realize she’d uttered the thought aloud.

  “Why would it be another one? What are the odds of that happening?” Tito did make sense. “My team will get us some answers.”

  “Subtlety is important. We don’t want to be found.”

  “Of course,” Tito assured her. “And I’ll get back to you with answers.”

  “Fine. Tito. One more thing.”

  “Name it.”

  “Can you find out anyt
hing about Razorpeak and Crossroads?”

  “I will call you.”

  She hung up the phone and turned to Slate. “We’ll check out Cinco Ridge. See if there’s any sign in the town or at the morgue there.”

  He nodded, but his movements were mechanical. His mind was clearly elsewhere. He started the car, and then they were off.

  It wasn’t long into the drive that the engine’s hum—and Slate’s silence—lured her into leaning against the door and resting her head on the window. The scenery didn’t change.

  Trees. More trees. Curves. More curves.

  And that lulling motor.

  * * *

  Lana jerked awake. The truck had stopped. It was just after dusk, and the headlights were off. She snapped to attention, sitting straight. “Where are we?”

  “Here.” He stepped out of the truck and opened the door for her.

  She took his hand then looked around. “Wait. What? No. Why are behind Mae’s B&B?”

  “This is where your part of the journey ends. My brother’s—if my brother’s dead—well, I can’t risk you getting killed. I go solo from this point forward.”

  “The hell you do. You—”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Slate lowered his head, slamming his lips into hers, probably bruising hers and his, but he couldn’t have slowed down if he’d wanted to. He’d thought long and hard on the drive here while she slept next to him, breathing softly, her chest rising and falling with every intake of air. He’d studied her. He’d contemplated matters. Hell, he’d even had it out with his bear, who was loath to part ways with her.

  Damn that bear, somehow the beast had gotten attached to her.

  Like I haven’t?

  The thought plagued him, for indeed, he knew he had. Way too much. Too hard. Too fast. Everything about this curvy, short blonde with hips that didn’t quit, and eyes that flashed emerald fire had gotten under his skin. He’d be damned if he’d let her be buried six feet under because of his reckless decision to take her with him.

  He pulled away from her. “You’re staying.” He recognized the hoarseness in his voice. It was more than passion from their kiss. It was heartbreak from knowing he couldn’t take her with him. From knowing he might end up not surviving the ordeal to find his brother—or information about his brother. “I’ll give you your skills back.”

  Her chest heaved with every pant. She was as breathless as he was from that kiss. “No. Keep them. You can give them back after you find your brother.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

  He narrowed his gaze. She was giving up way too easily. He’d have expected a fight from her. Inside, a voice scoffed. And what makes you think she’s giving up too easily? This connection you think you have is probably in your head.

  Nope. Nah. No way was he believing that. He’d felt her pulse, the way it raced when he kissed her. Was it really so hard to believe she’d be willing to let him use her skills? What if he didn’t survive? Would her skills die with him, or would they go back to her? He hoped this wasn’t answered the hard way.

  “I’ll return.” One way or another, he would. “Thank you.”

  She watched as he pulled out. Then she turned and headed toward the B&B.

  In his mind, Slate’s bear growled and roared his disapproval at letting her go.

  “Shut it,” he cautioned the bear. “She’ll be safer if she’s not around us.”

  His bear rumbled his displeasure but dropped it.

  Hopefully, he gets it, Slate thought.

  Chapter Fourteen

  If Slate thought she’d give up so easily, he had another think coming. As soon as she was certain he couldn’t see her, she studied the B&B’s windows. The kitchen and the main visiting area were lit up. Luckily, one part of the building seemed to be empty. She sprinted toward one of the side doors where the windows were dark. Her phone and keys to a vehicle—that was all she wanted. Then she’d follow him. And she’d call Tito and ask him to track the phone. She slipped inside and made her way toward her room where she could get her phone. Then—

  Yeah, then what, you idiot? her more sensible side chastised. How will you get a set of keys if you don’t go to the kitchen?

  In her mind’s eye, she’d pictured the shelving unit with hooks for keys. She thought of all the keys there. Keys to vehicles waiting and ready to go. Except she couldn’t get to the keys because, judging from the lights in the windows and the sounds of conversations and laughter, that was where most everyone had congregated.

  She’d have to figure that out after she grabbed her phone. She snuck up the stairs as quickly as she could without making any noise then opened the door to the room she stayed in and snatched her phone off the charger. This was the last time she’d ever go anywhere without her phone, by damn.

  She closed the door behind her, not even making the slightest snick of a sound as the latch fell into place.

  “Why are you sneaking around like a thief?” a voice, barely a whisper, came from nearby.

  Lana whirled around in the near darkness. “Allegra.”

  “Um, yeah. What are you doing? You know, we were wondering where you were.”

  “Sorry.” Lana snatched Allegra’s arm, reopened her door, and pulled her back into her room.

  “What the he—”

  She put her hand over Allegra’s mouth. “Shhh. Please keep your voice down.”

  “Why?” Allegra whispered. “What are you up to?”

  For the briefest of seconds, she deliberated whether she could tell Allegra anything.

  “You can trust me,” Allegra told her. “You saved my life, after all.”

  Lana nodded. “I’ve got to help someone. I need a car. Can you get me the keys? And tell them to not worry about me. I’m fine.”

  A series of emotions fluttered across Allegra’s face, evident in the moonlight that slithered through the windows in Lana’s room. “Griz isn’t here. He’s the only one I’d really talk to. Sure. I can tell them you’re fine. I’ll meet you outside, midnight-blue SUV. Give me three minutes.”

  Relief flooded through Lana. “Thank you.” She slid out the door behind Allegra and went the opposite way.

  It didn’t take long to find the SUV, and she’d barely been there a minute when Allegra showed up, dangling keys. She opened the driver’s door.

  Lana moved past her to sit behind the wheel when Allegra suddenly took the spot she’d intended to take.

  “I’m driving,” Allegra announced.

  “What? No. I’m not taking you with me.”

  “Sure you are. We’re partners, remember? You helped me. I help you. That’s how it goes.”

  “I can’t do that to you.”

  “Can’t do what? You told me to tell them not to worry about you. So, are you now saying you’re up to something that would make them worry?”

  “I—”

  “Look. I told them I’m picking you up at the mall one city over. They had questions. I evaded. But I’m not letting you do something dangerous on your own. So, what are you up to?”

  Lana made her way to the passenger door, which gave her a moment to consider her dilemma. Allegra was Griz’s woman. She couldn’t afford to have her calling Griz and updating him. That would violate Slate’s confidence. Then again, she couldn’t ask Allegra to lie to Griz for her. She plopped into the seat and pondered the quandary.

  “Where to?” Allegra started the vehicle and backed it out.

  “That way.” Lana pointed. “That way. You can’t tell anyone where we are. Or what we are doing.”

  “No one?” Allegra frowned, studying the rearview mirror.

  “Morgan’s Run. The morgue.” Lana pulled the directions on her phone and plugged them into the SUV’s GPS.

  “Morgue? What the hell?”

  “I’m not telling you anything unless you promise not to tell anyone. Especially Griz.”

  “Griz is out looking for Slate Youngblood.”

  “I know.”

  “Wait.”
Allegra slapped the wheel with her palm. “Does this have anything to do with Youngblood? How are you involved in something with him? Do you even know him?”

  Lana put a finger to her lips. The memory of that kiss brought a flame to her cheeks and made her pulse race.

  Allegra snapped her head in Lana’s direction. “I’m a shifter, you know.”

  “I know.” She wasn’t sure what she was driving at.

  “We can feel things. Hear things. See things.”

  “So?”

  “So, what about your heartbeat going sky high when I mentioned Youngblood’s name? And the fact that your temperature rose?”

  Damn it. She shrugged. “I’m waiting for your promise.”

  “Fine. I won’t tell Griz, but don’t ask me to lie to him if he asks a direct question.”

  “Fair enough,” Lana conceded because, really, what choice did she have? Allegra could overpower her with one arm tied behind her back. She could keep the keys and take them back to Mae’s B&B. Plus, it wasn’t fair to ask her to lie to her mate. Lana wouldn’t want Slate lying to her. Wait a moment. Slate wasn’t her mate. She pushed that train of thought away for more than one reason. She had to be careful of transmitting her emotions to Allegra for starters. And second, she had to guard her heart from Slate. Who knew what falling in love with him would portend?

  “Well?” Allegra prompted her.

  “Hang on.” She punched in Tito’s number.

  “Pronto, bella. I was not expecting to hear from you so soon.”

  “Please tell me that phone you gave us can be tracked.”

  Allegra shot Lana a weird look.

  “Ovviamente.” Of course. “But why, cara? Are the two of you stranded? Do you need me to send assistance?”

  “No. that’s not it. Slate has gone off on his own, and I need to make sure I’m headed where he’s heading.”

  “Why did he leave you? Where did he leave you? Do you need help? You clearly have your own phone now.”