Masked By Danger by Christa Wick

Chapter Fourteen

A hard knockon her room's door jerked Iris out of her nightmare and onto her feet.

Her hand instinctively searched for the pistol Cade had stripped from her days ago. Half caught in the nightmare from which the knock had woken her, she could feel Hank Mercer's hot breath on her back as she ran, her lower limbs like spider legs, everything disjointed and disobedient.

The knock sounded again, jerking her fully awake. She glanced at the clock. Almost two hours had passed since Cade left her alone and cold in bed.

She was supposed to be showered and dressed, breakfast in her gut, and already at the residence of Esme and Denver so she could interview Oscar in a relaxed, familiar setting.

Whichever wolf was at her door had come to take her there because Cade wasn't coming back.

Not after she had called him an animal.

She snatched a robe from the pile of borrowed clothing, cinched it tight, then cracked the door open. A lanky wolf somewhere in his late forties stood in the hall, a coffee tumbler in each hand.

She recognized him. Tanner something. He had joined the West Virginia clan after Iris had escaped. Esme had given her a brief rundown on his history as it related to a horrifying attack Hunters had executed on a small enclave of shifters in northeast Tennessee.

"You're here to take me to the interview," she said, trying to push the nightmare of Harrow Mill out of her head and not stare at the scars on the wolf's face and neck that had been left by magic-infused silver buckshot and a long delay in reaching a healer after the attack.

Tanner nodded, his expression growing irritated as her gaze continued to scrutinize his flesh.

"I need to shower first," she blurted, mortified by her inability to look away and the knowledge that Cade's scent lingered on her body. "Give me about five minutes."

She shut the door before he could object to the extra delay.

Anticipating a night of restless sleep, she had picked out the day's clothes the prior night and placed them in a folded pile atop the room's only chair. With the air inside the cavern system averaging a constant sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit, she had selected a thick chenille sweater and heavy denim jeans. Not only would the outfit be comfortable and warm, but Oscar would find the sweater's soft fabric less intimidating than more formal clothing.

Not that she had formal clothing to choose from.

Her days as a well-dressed homicide detective were dead and gone.

Piling her hair into a loose bun, Iris stepped into the shower, her movements quick and efficient as she washed. Three minutes later she was in front of the sink, brushing out her hair while her body air dried.

Finished, she studied her naked form for a few seconds in the mirror, hoping to memorize it in case there were any changes after what happened between her and Cade. The last thing Iris wanted was for someone to smell a pregnancy on her before she realized herself.

What happened was you fucked him, a sharp voice clawed at her. You fucked him and you liked it. We liked—

Shaking her head, Iris fled the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. The clothes went on in a jumble, the first attempt at sticking her leg through one of the pant legs revealing she had grabbed hold of the sweater.

She swore out loud then cursed silently in her head because she didn't want every damn wolf in the clan to know her business.

Something rolled happily in her gut.

They can smell our business on us. You could have showered all day and his scent would remain.

"Shut up!" she hissed.

No words of retort responded, but she felt a flick low in her gut.

Something was there waiting for her to welcome it.

Opening the door, she shook her head, denying the existence of whatever "it" was.

"You saying you don't want the coffee, Miss North?" Tanner asked, one arm extended with a tumbler in it. "Promise it's still hot."

Iris forced her professional mask into place and smiled as she claimed the offering.

"Rough night?" she asked before taking a sip. "I heard one of the other teams brought a latent in for healing. Michelle?"

Tanner's mouth twitched.

"Of course you heard." He inclined his head one door down. "You were in a room next to your mate when I briefed him last night."

Her mouth twitched right back at him.

Her nose did, too. That's when she smelled a change on him. Tanner's pheromones were completely different since her last direct encounter with him. He wasn't a "lone" wolf anymore. That's why he had been tasked with delivering her to the witch's home.

"Don't tell me you matched with the la—"

"Everybody needs to shut the fuck up about it," Tanner snapped before pointing his drink in the direction he wanted Iris to walk.

"The witches will heal her," Iris soothed before taking a sip of her coffee. "It's just that the brain is a delicate thing. They have to go slow, and careful. The seizures will start to fade and then they will be gone altogether."

"Turn right," he growled. "Keep walking to the end of the corridor. We don't need to chitchat."

For one second, Iris wished she did have a wolf to push at Tanner—an alpha wolf who could bring the man to heel. She just wasn't sure whether the push would be a gentle nudge or a whack upside the back of his head.

Maybe both. First the whack, then the nudge.