Cipher

“Kat was just demanding to know why she’s being babysat.”

The woman chuckled as she dropped to the sofa beside him. “Welcome to being involved in wolf politics. I can’t think of anyone on any of the regional councils who doesn’t employ at least casual security for their families.”

Kat opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. Andrew and Julio were members of the council, but they didn’t have families to protect, not besides Miguel and— “Carmen. Are you telling me your sister puts up with a bodyguard and hasn’t strangled Alec for it yet?”

Miguel reached for the soda he’d left sitting on the coffee table. “Carmen’s had one since they went to New York. It’s not optional for Conclave members. Even Alec finally stopped fighting it.”

The world tilted. “Alec. Alec has a bodyguard?”

Anna plucked the soda can from Miguel’s hand. “Like he said—it’s not optional. There are too many people who’d like to avoid challenges with Conclave members and are willing to fight dirty to do it.”

Kat pinned Sera with a look. “Did you know?”

“Me?” Sera tossed her kitchen towel over her shoulder, a casual gesture that didn’t distract from the tightness in her eyes. “I’m a coyote, Kat. A backwoods hick coyote. I don’t have a clue how shapeshifter royalty lives.”

Maybe Andrew hadn’t known, either. She’d give him a chance to say that, before she screamed at him.

“So every time some wolf gets pissy with Julio or Andrew, I’m going to end up with a babysitter? Just because I’m dating a council member?”

“For a while.” Anna seemed unapologetic. “This is the life, Kat, love it or hate it. The same thing would’ve gone down if your cousin had taken that council spot he earned instead of running off with Nick.”

In some ways, it still had. From the day Derek had married the Alpha’s daughter, Kat had weighed all of her decisions against the sure knowledge that she could be used as leverage. Hadn’t that been part of the reason she’d pushed herself in endless rounds with Zola? But in New Orleans, she’d been removed from that. Outside of the immediate sphere of John Peyton and his enemies.

It wouldn’t be the same with Andrew. His enemies would come to him, and she’d be at his side. It wouldn’t matter that she could turn their brains to Jell-O and erase their existences—she looked like a tempting target. They’d come after her, again and again, and she’d have to defend herself. How many times could she use her mind to crush out someone’s life before the darkness started to numb her to the horror of it?

They were all staring at her, even Sera, until the timer went off in the kitchen and she swore and took off to rescue the pizza.

Kat looked at Anna. “It’s more complicated than I realized.”

“It always is.” She made a face and then dug the video game controller out from behind her back.

“Anyway, I’m the next shift, so…get lost, Mendoza.”

He rose, but his troubled gaze remained on Kat. “I can stay, if you want.”

His turn to be protective, her turn to smile and pretend she was fine. “Go on. I’m sick of boys, anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah. Girl time.” He gathered his stuff and left silently.

“He must be going nuts not to stick around for pizza,” Anna observed.

“He has good days and bad days.” Kat leaned back and closed her eyes. “Jesus, Anna. Who the hell does someone like Alec hire as a bodyguard? He’s already the scariest person I know.”

She laughed. “It’s not his job to be scarier than Alec, just to make sure no one can sneak up and get the drop on them. To take over Alec’s role of raving, paranoid lunatic, if you will.”

“Sounds like fun.” At least she’d recovered her sense of sarcasm. “I’m not sure I want one of those following me around. I didn’t like having Alec following me around, either, and I was a lot more tolerant at twenty.”

Anna pulled a tattered paperback out of her bag. “Now that? Is none of my business.”

It wasn’t Anna’s business, and the fact that Kat was tempted to press the issue was proof of how far she’d come from jealousy and self-consciousness. Whatever Anna knew—or didn’t know— about Andrew and his plans to put Kat under 24/7 surveillance, she clearly had no intention of breaking alpha ranks.

The dominant shapeshifters rarely did…and Sera’s Sharpie reminder on the bathroom mirror was starting to make a lot more sense. No fucking alpha bastards, indeed. Kat had climbed into bed with one, and this was what came of it.

Deciding to save her ire for its intended target, Kat cast about for a change of topic. “Is Patrick still in town?”

“Don’t think so. He had to go meet a contact about a job.” The book lay unopened in Anna’s hands.

“You know, working with him wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

It didn’t seem like a very noteworthy comment until Sera appeared with a pizza stone in one hand and a six-pack of Heineken in the other. “Jesus, what did he do to change your tune? Cure cancer and rescue a litter of kittens?”

“I appreciate a certain level of ability and efficiency.” Anna tilted her head and flashed them a wicked grin. “Plus, did you see those tattoos? Too bad he’s off limits.”

“Says who?” Sera settled the food on the well-abused coffee table and took a beer. “If you’re not going there, I sure the hell am.”

“Uh-huh.” Kat didn’t need beer, but she did lean forward and claim one of the corner pieces from the pizza. “Don’t let the road-warrior act fool you, guys. Patrick’s squishy hearted. The tattoos aren’t a bad-boy thing. They’re magic.”

“Magic,” Anna agreed. “Only way for someone like him to stay alive, doing what he does.”

“He’ll never say where he got them or what they do…” Kat trailed off and grinned. “I’ve heard he can hold his own against shapeshifters, though. I mean, he must.”

Anna grabbed the remote control, turned on the TV and began scanning through the channel guide. “So, what’re we watching tonight?”

It was about as subtle as the way Sera could spend two hours in a room with Julio without looking at him once. Avoidance and denial, and it made Kat want to laugh. She’d spent so much time feeling unattractive and awkward and violently jealous of Anna and Sera, and they were just as lost and insecure as anyone else.

Whether you were a blonde femme fatale, a bombshell redhead or a geeky brunette, men were still a pain in the ass. Some truths were apparently universal.

It didn’t take an empath to see Kat was pissed.

Andrew parked the car, pulled up the emergency brake and turned to her. “What did I do?”

She shook her head. “Inside. I’ll talk inside.”

It had to be the fact that she’d been under guard. All the way into the warehouse and up to his loft, Andrew considered the possibilities, and it was the only one that made sense. He dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and turned, bracing his hands on the granite as he faced her. “I was going to talk to you about it.”

“But you didn’t.” She eased the wide strap of her laptop bag over her head and set it down next to the door. “Which is a whole different and way more serious issue than the fact that I have to have guards to begin with.”

“By the time I thought about it, there wasn’t time.” He retrieved two bottles of water from the refrigerator and held one out to her. “It’s no different than what we were doing when the cult was still active. I figured we could talk about it later.”

Kat stared at the bottle of water for a few seconds before taking it, though she immediately set it down.

“There was time to tell Miguel and Anna.”

“There was time to ask them to watch out for you. I didn’t have to explain why.”

“And you thought I’d get pissed off or not trust you? If you just told me without explaining?”

“Give me some credit, Kat. I thought it would wait, is all.” And he hadn’t wanted her to worry, but admitting as much might just upset her more.