I stepped up beside my brother. “I don’t know what game Sebastian is playing, but he’s been helping Sasha from the inside for a few months. Nero would’ve had her by now if he’d spilled.”
Adam started for the house, keeping his voice down. “Are you telling me you think we can trust that back- stabbing asshole?”
“No.” I frowned, stopping just outside the house. “But he’s aware I’m helping Sasha. His lines were compromised, so he wasn’t going to communicate by email or phone. Since we left Los Angeles, he must’ve figured the best way to get the information to Sasha was through Lana. She’d get the message to me.”
“I don’t like this. The Pack isn’t sold either.” He paused and glanced back over his shoulder toward the barn. “Especially Gareth.”
“Yeah, I noticed that too. But he’ll do what he has to.” I said the words but wasn’t sure I believed them.
Adam shook his head and reached for the door. “Not this time. He’s ready to leave.”
I frowned. “How do you know that?”
Adam didn’t answer.
Chapter Twenty
Downtown Reno was jumping, my senses tingling, on edge. I hadn’t been there since… I didn’t want to think about it. Cruising through a green light outside Harrah’s Casino, I wished I had my BMW, but Aren’s silver Infiniti was growing on me. It wasn’t the Lotus by a long shot, but it had some power under the hood. Besides, beggars couldn’t be choosers.
I pulled into the Harrah’s parking garage and tucked the car away. I’d be going on foot from here. My heightened senses were better used outside anyway. If the guy hunting me was around, I didn’t want him surprising me.
The sidewalks crawled with tourists, gamblers, and the occasional con artist. Loud music blared at me in bursts as people came and went through the automatic glass doors. I caught the scents of booze, sweat, and cigarettes, but no sign of the wolf who had pilfered my backpack in Hollywood.
I wouldn’t be so anxious if I’d had a physical description. At this point, I’d have to catch his scent before I’d recognize him, and with the cacophony of cigarette smoke, cologne, and alcohol assaulting my senses it’d be tough.
I stayed alert, kept my head up, and watched my back as best I could. The man hunting me was still a mystery, and he’d be looking for me. Using myself as bait wasn’t always wise, but it was usually effective. That was how I caught Lana at that rest stop.
I shook it off. No time to think about that.
Crossing the street, I slipped my hand inside my coat and brushed my fingertips against the Glock in my shoulder holster. The Ruger was still attached to my calf. It reminded me with every stride. Now I just needed the bastard to show me his face.
But after two hours, up and down both sides of Virginia Street, I hadn’t picked up on anyone following me. Maybe setting off the grenade this afternoon was all the excitement he could take for one day.
The delicious scent of barbeque wafted out one of the revolving doors and lured me in. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate. My stomach grumbled, urging me toward the faux brick hostess stand.
“Welcome to Tom’s Grill.” She had a platinum-blond ponytail and a wide smile, displaying perfectly straight, bleached teeth. “How many in your party?”
I stared at the perky hostess, weighing my options. “I think I’ll take it to go.”
“No problem.” She handed me a menu, her ultra-bright smile never faltering. “Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll get your order back to the kitchen.”
I glanced over the menu. Would Aren want food too? The thought startled me for a second. When did I start caring if he was hungry? Sweeping my hair back from my forehead, I made the quick decision to order enough for two. I could always eat the leftovers tomorrow.
Bright Smile took my menu and my order, then offered me a place in their waiting area. I sat on the red vinyl bench and pulled out my cell phone. If Aren and I were really partners in finding this guy, I needed to let him know where I was.
I searched through my contacts for his number when I caught someone moving in my peripheral vision. Glancing up, my brow creased and the hair on the back of my neck started to rise. The man waiting to my left was about six feet tall with broad shoulders and sharp, jagged features that could cut through you with just one look. I recognized him even before his silver eyes met mine. Darrien Fonthill. I hadn’t seen him since I’d helped get him booted from the police force.
“Why, if it isn’t Sasha Kincade.” He wet his thin lips as he stared at me. “Long way from New York, aren’t you?”
“I took a leave of absence.” I glanced toward the kitchen, hoping someone would call my name. The barbeque smelled heavenly, but apparently it wasn’t already cooked and waiting for to-go orders.
“I heard you had some trouble. Lost a key witness.” He tsked and shook his head. “How the mighty have fallen, huh, sugar cakes?”
I shot up from my seat. “Look, Fonthill, I didn’t take your shit when I was a rookie, and I’m sure as hell not going to take it now.”
“Still a fiery one.” He raised a brow, his nostrils flaring a little. “We woulda been good together.”
His silver eyes flashed, and a chill shot down my spine. He’d lost his badge over a sexual harassment complaint. The female officer he’d attacked was a friend of mine, and Fonthill had done much more than “harass” her. She had bruises that proved it. He was an asshole who didn’t think no meant no. I testified against him at his review hearing.
My phone rang, breaking the tension, and I turned away to answer.
“Sash, where are you?” Aren asked.
“Tom’s Grill downtown. Your meeting is done?”
“Yeah, and Sebastian sent us a message.”
I gripped the phone a little tighter. “Did he find anything out?”
They called my name behind the counter. Propping the phone on my shoulder, I paid and collected my bag of barbeque.
“Yeah, he did. I’ll be right there,” Aren said.
My eyes drifted over to Fonthill only to find him leering at me. I sighed. “I can’t stay here. I’ll meet you back at your place.”
He paused and I waited for an argument, but instead he agreed. “All right. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I said in my outside voice.
Stowing my phone in my pocket, I pushed my way past Fonthill when he stepped into my path. The brush of his body against my shoulder filled my nostrils with a familiar scent.
And it wasn’t barbeque.
Adrenaline lit up my veins. This was the man who had dug through my pack in Hollywood. The one who stole my underwear and shot at Aren and me. My bounty hunter had found me. And he was no stranger.
Slowly, I turned around, reaching for my gun with my free hand.
He gave me a menacing tight-lipped smile. “Hey, there, kitty, kitty.” He lowered his voice. “Whatcha gonna do? Shoot me dead right here?”
My mind raced. This was a bad cop. When had he become a werewolf? I needed to get a grip, stall for time. I fumbled for something to say. Keeping my voice low, I tightened my hold on the Glock. “How’s your arm?”
“You just nicked me back in LA. Losin’ your touch, Dead Eye. You had the chance for your kill shot.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t miss next time.”
He pressed his lips together until all the color drained from his mouth, his silver eyes sliding over me from
