Masked By Danger by Christa Wick

Chapter Eight

The very nameHank Mercer still had the power to cripple her psyche. Not just because of what he’d done to her, but also because of who he was.

Cade’s father.

How could she possibly tell Cade that she’d fled the clan and rejected their mating because of his own father? How could she possibly tell him what his father had tried to do or that he'd had a gang of two other wolves from outside the West Virginia clan helping him?

Simple answer was that she couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

Shaking her head, she extracted her arm from Esme's light grip and stood. She didn't want to remember that day, not alone, not with the too sympathetic witch next to her, and definitely not under the accusing stare of her childhood sweetheart.

Gaining her feet, she had every urge to head for the door, but knew they wouldn't allow her to leave. Hell, she had nowhere to go if they did.

She snarled, angry at the rock and the hard place she was pinned between. Turning on one heel, she glared at Denver. "You said Hunters took out my partner?"

Ignoring Cade's soft growl at her calling Harper her partner and the way the vibration in his throat made the fine hairs on her arms stand up, she waited for Denver to nod.

"Give them to me," she continued, "and I can turn them over to my superiors. I don't need to expose the clan."

Denver offered his own snort, its tone more derisive. "If we had them to turn over, they'd be dead already. And who's to say any captured Hunter won't talk about the clan? We already know they kill any of their own in danger of being taken. The bastards have no sense of loyalty."

Lifting a hand from where he cradled the cub, Denver scratched the stubble on his cheek. "But you do have methods of finding them that we don't. Help us locate the Hunters that shot this cop of yours, and we can discuss you leav—"

Cade jumped to his feet. Just as fast, Denver stood and pushed the cub he held into Cade's arms. Denver’s move shocked Iris, but, a heartbeat later, most of the fury had vanished from Cade’s expression.

Cubs were too precious to the clan—that was one fact that would never change. The little boy's presence had a calming effect on everyone but Iris.

Denver put his hands on Cade's shoulders and forced him down onto the couch. Smirking, he settled on the armrest next to Cade, one hand remaining on the subdued wolf’s shoulder.

Eyes flashing murder, Cade glared up at him. "We should discuss this outside, you and I."

Denver grinned at him before shaking his head. "It's much more fun to stay inside and cockblock you than to shred your ass outside."

Poking his chin in Esme’s direction, he chuckled. "And less distressing for the ladies and Oscar. Not to mention the logistics of coming up with a new pack leader for the group of wolves you brought with you."

Closing his eyes, Cade slowed his breathing. Watching him, Iris knew he was searching out the energy of the warm bundle of cub Denver had so purposefully placed in his arms. Somehow, the boy had remained calm throughout the exchange.

Iris glanced at Esme, her suspicions confirmed as she saw the witch's lips wordlessly moving.

Finished with her spell, Esme met Iris's gaze. Her mouth turned down, the expression sad and seeking forgiveness as she shook her head.

"Even if we found the Hunters responsible for today's death, we couldn't let you go. You don't understand the energy you're giving off. It's like pointing a laser the size of a baseball diamond at the sky. And it will get worse with each unfulfilled heat cycle you go through. More Hunters will come. They'll kill you, but only after they torture you and steal your energy to fuel their magic—"

Heart seizing in her chest, Iris stopped the witch with a raised hand. "What do you mean, fuel their magic?"

Gaze sharpening, Esme stood. This time, when she sought Iris's arm, there was nothing light or gentle in the way she captured it.

"Yes, their magic. We've known about Hunters through all the centuries they have spent trying to eradicate us." She pushed Iris's sleeve up. "But only recently have we discovered how they find us and some of the things they do when they catch a wolf...or a witch. These are Hunter wards you are carving into your skin. I recognize them from documents obtained in the last year."

A rustle of clothing and light snarls erupted from the couch. Iris risked a glance in Cade's direction to find Denver pushing a little more forcefully on his shoulder.

"Steady," Denver warned.

The warning came too late. The cub stirred and opened his eyes. He looked at Cade's face, his own expression narrowing in apprehension. Esme began to whisper, but the boy crawled off Cade's lap and approached both women.

Releasing Iris, Esme extended her arms in the boy's direction. The child bypassed her to tug at Iris's hand.

Iris tried to pull away. The cub stubbornly fisted the edge of her shirt and rested his head against her hip.

"Please," Esme whispered. "I don't want to send Oscar back to the van with Jet and Colt. They swear too much. And their entire conversation consists of gory details extracted from their worst runs. Dead Hunters, dead and skinned wolves…"

Sighing, Iris sat and let Oscar crawl onto her lap. She finally understood why the cub had made her skin itch and burn. If she was truly in heat, the presence of a cub would trigger her den instinct.

She shook her head. The motion caught everyone's attention, but she was not about to explain herself. If she tried, Cade would argue with her.

Regardless of what he claimed, she didn't have a den instinct. Wolves did and she wasn't one, had never shifted. No fangs or claws or hair had ever sprouted from her flesh.

Whatever was going on with her body since Cade's arrival at the strip club didn't involve dens or mating or the ridiculous notion that she was a wolf in heat.

"Cubs are drawn to it," Denver said, intuitively grasping the argument raging inside Iris's head. "They know you're fiercely protective when you're in heat."

"At least when you're not fucking," Cade interrupted.

His gazed bored into her skull. Looking away, she saw his fists pressing down on his thick thighs, the knuckles white with the force he exerted to control whatever urges ran through him.

"I'm not—" Iris started.

"Just stop," Esme pleaded. She gave Iris's shoulder a squeeze as she looked at Cade and Denver. "And I mean all three of you!"

"We don't have to deal with why you left tonight," she told Iris, pausing to glare at Cade the second his lips parted to disagree. "But it will be a long time before you can leave the clan's protection."

Esme’s gaze dropped to Oscar before she lifted it to Iris and nailed the she-wolf in place with a thick curtain of tears shimmering in her eyes. "And, since you're here, you should know that there are lost cubs that need your help. Whether it's the wolf or the cop in you, I don't think you can turn away from that."

Iris looked at Cade, her grip around Oscar reflexively tightening. Victory glittered in his dark brown gaze as he saw her hug the cub closer. A smile crept up one side of his mouth, only to die a second later when Esme continued.

"I think you should stay as a guest of the Witches' Council. I can get you a semi-private room for the night, you'd just have to share the bathroom. And then, sometime tomorrow, you'd have your own keys to a one-bedroom apartment. You'd be right next to what everyone is calling Lost Cub Central." Esme raised a calming hand toward Cade at the same time Denver put a restraining one against his chest. "You know I'm right, Cade. There aren't enough resources to protect her this close to—"

"My mate only needs one resource," he growled. "Me."

Fresh heat and need washed over Iris. Cade may have been talking to the witch and Denver, but Iris knew he had meant the growl for her alone. He had simultaneously pushed his wolf at her, warming her belly and thighs with its dominance.

Warning bells ringing in her ears, she slid the cub onto Esme's lap.

"I won't stay here," she said, looking at the floor. "But I'll go with you."