Betrayed: Days of the Rogue by Nicky Charles
Caro reached over the table and tapped the sketch pad that was near Eve’s elbow. “Does the word ‘duh’ mean anything to you?”
She stared at the picture. Caro was pointing at the wolf. “Rafe? A shifter?”
Sitting down Caro took a sip of her wine and crossed her ankles, her sophisticated façade sliding back into place with the ease of practice. “And she finally connects the dots.”
“No. I don’t believe…” Eve let her voice trail off thinking of the times she thought she’d heard a growling sound coming from the man. He was awfully fit. And there was that time when she’d caught him coming inside naked. And when he’d rescued her in the woods, hadn’t she had a vision of him and the wolf phasing into each other? The idea suddenly didn’t seem quite as implausible as it had a few minutes earlier.
“Yes, you do. Or at least you’re entertaining the idea.”
Eve squirmed under Caro’s gaze. “I don’t know… It’s so improbable. I mean someone having extra mental abilities isn’t that unlikely. Scientists still don’t fully understand how the human brain functions. But people turning into animals…” She made a face.
“Okay. Try this. Suppose…just suppose, Rafe was a werewolf.” Caro held up her hand when Eve would have interrupted and continued talking. “How would you feel about it? Could you accept that he’s more than he appears to be on the surface? Would it scare you? Or excite you?”
“I…” Eve didn’t know what to say. In a fictional story it was all well and good, but contemplating a real life relationship with someone who was a different species was rather hard to imagine.
Caro glanced at her watch and stood up. “I have to go but I want you to think about this while I’m gone. From what I saw of the two of you together and with the way you’re moping around my apartment, I think Rafe might just be the man for you.”
Eve chose to ignore that last comment. “Where are you going?”
“I’m meeting Dylan. He lives on the ninth floor.” She picked up a small fuchsia and black shopping bag from the pile she’d brought home with her. “I bought some lingerie I want to model for him.”
“You’re off with a different man every few weeks, but you want me to settle down with someone who might have to wear a flea collar?” Eve crossed her arms and raised her eye brow.
“That’s about right.” Caro flashed a wide smile at her. “Fate. Karma. Following the path destiny has set out for us…” She waved her hand airily. “I’ve decided mine is to enjoy the wide variety of male beauty in the world. Yours is to be with your one and only.” As she walked to the door, she called over her shoulder. “Don’t fight it, Eve, or it will come back to bite you. Though personally, I wouldn’t mind a little nibble from Rafe.”
As the other woman left the apartment, Eve sighed and rubbed her arm. “I’ve already been bitten. That’s one of the problems.”
Eve was in bed by the time Caro came home which was fine since she really didn’t want to discuss Rafe or her plans anymore. Mostly because she still didn’t have a plan. She loved Rafe but how did he really feel? And if he was a werewolf—which was completely ridiculous—would she be able to handle it?
Rolling onto her side, she plumped her pillow. Rafe had left without a word. Even if he was worried about his clinic, he could have written a quick note. And since then he’d made no effort to contact her. Mind you, all along he’d been sort of…ambivalent about a relationship with her. Hot sex was one thing but he’d never shown an interest in a permanent relationship. He’d even told her how two Empaths in a relationship wasn’t a good idea. Her experience with Gordie had confirmed the fact. And perhaps if he was a werewolf—and that was a big if—then were there rules preventing him from associating with a non-werewolf? That might explain his reluctance to have a relationship with her.
A future between the two of them seemed more improbable the longer she thought about it.
Eve closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep but her brain wouldn’t shut down. Damien said Rafe needed her yet how did Damien know? Had they been in contact with each other? And if Rafe could share his feelings towards her with Damien, then why not tell her directly? Was it that hard to pick up the phone?
She tucked the covers up around her neck. The bed felt cold and lonely, the same as it had every night since she’d arrived. If Rafe was sharing the space with her it wouldn’t seem that way. His broad chest would be pressed to her back, his hand cupping her breast as they lay spooned together. A smile spread over her face as she submerged herself in the scenario, just as she had so many times recently. It was as if Rafe was actually there. She could feel his love and concern washing over her, allowing her to relax, knowing he’d take care of her. It was a feeling that had come over her several times in the past few weeks, right as she was falling asleep. Sometimes she wondered if it meant that Rafe was thinking of her; if he’d let his mental wall slip and was reaching out to her. Whether it was true or not, she didn’t know, but she liked to imagine that is was.
She sighed and snuggled into the pillow even more, the movement causing her arm to twinge. That brought a whole new set of feelings to mind. The wolf attack had been horrific, even more so than being abducted. Nightmares still plagued her; dreams so real she’d wake up drenched in sweat, the pink scars on her arm throbbing. She’d rush to the bathroom and wash over and over again convinced the beast’s sticky saliva still covered her. If Rafe was indeed a werewolf, how could she ever bear to be alone with him knowing he was capable of turning into a savage beast?
No. She couldn’t do it. The thought of waking up with a wolf beside her was too frightening to contemplate.
She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. But the wolf would be Rafe. Not some real wolf without any conscience. Rafe wouldn’t hurt her. Hadn’t he rescued her from Gordie? Held her in his bed when she’d been shaking with fear from memories of what had happened?
Eve sat up in bed, pulled open the drawer of her night table and took out a piece of paper. Brandi had handed it to her that last day in Grassy Hills after telling her that Rafe had left due to a fire at his clinic. It was Rafe’s address. The other woman had handed it to her saying it was ‘just in case’ she needed to contact him. There was no message from Rafe on it. In fact the writing had a suspiciously feminine appearance to it, and she’d quickly realized that Brandi was trying to make up for the fact that Rafe had simply left without a word. It had hurt and she’d been tempted to throw the address away but some voice inside had urged her not to.
Frowning Eve stared at the words before her. The arguments kept going round and round in her head. What it really came down to was a choice. Go and see Rafe; discover his feelings and explore the depth of her fear. Or she could stay in Calgary and her life would continue on as it had always been. She’d have her art, spend time with Aly and Caro, eventually meet someone else… It was a safe, sensible decision. However, would the words ‘what if’ always tease at the back of her mind?
Chapter 53
Rafe stretched his arms over his head before pushing away from his desk. He’d been at his computer for hours working on the budget for the clinic. His eyes felt gritty, his shoulders were tense. Standing up, he went to the coffee maker and checked the carafe. A small amount of brown liquid covered the bottom. It had a sludgy appearance and the pot felt cold. Sighing, he set it down and wandered to the window instead.
Spring sunshine illuminated the small green space in front of the building; fresh grass covered the lawn and a pair of robins were poking about looking for worms. A few daffodils bobbed in the breeze near the base of a tree while a scattering of wild violets added splashes of colour to the scene. Usually he enjoyed spring but this year its cheeriness was directly at odds with his mood. He didn’t want to be here. The rebuilding project for his clinic wasn’t capturing his imagination. His spirit felt numb and confined in the small beige office out of which he now worked.
Most of the clinic had been gutted by the fire, but this wing had surviv
Leaning his forearm against the window frame, he looked to the side and studied the charred remains of the rest of the clinic. The blackened bricks and twisted metal stood in stark contrast to the blue sky and white puffy clouds. Investigators were still poking through the rubble, but heavy machinery was scheduled to begin the demolition process next week and then construction could begin. The architect had called this morning saying the blueprints for the new clinic were ready for approval. He made a face at the lack of emotional response he had to the news.
Face facts, McRae, he told himself. You were beginning to tire of the job even before that disastrous last case. Working in a clinical setting felt too…confining. And the program he’d designed, while successful, had its limitations, too. The rogues were being transferred too quickly from clinics into pack life. They needed a transitional setting; that’s what he’d envisioned his fishing cabins in Grassy Hills as being. He’d had great hope for the project, but returning there now would too difficult. Memories of Eve would greet him at every turn.
A heavy sigh escaped him as the door to his office opened. Reno strolled into the room and sat down without waiting for an invitation.
“You’re looking as crappy as the last time I saw you.” Reno leaned back in the chair and stretched out his legs. “Given up on sleeping?”
“Come in and have a seat.” Rafe mocked as he walked to his desk and sat on the edge.
“I knew you were going to offer so I thought I’d save you the effort.” Reno grinned.
A smile tugged at the corner of Rafe’s mouth. How Brandi put up with the man, he’d never know. “I haven’t been sleeping much.” He turned the focus away from himself. “How are you holding up?”
Damien’s defection had hit Reno hard, probably even harder than when his partner had gone rogue. But he seemed to be coming to terms with the fact, finally.
“I’m fine.” Reno shook his head. “I still can’t believe Damien’s got himself entangled with the likes of Deirdre. But, then again, I can’t begin to understand the hell he’s been through. At least that’s what Brandi keeps telling me.” He got to his feet and wandered over to the coffee maker. “I think I’ve convinced the captain to back off on the idea of pressing for Damien’s arrest and court martial. That’s something at least, and maybe, one day, he’ll get his head on straight and leave the group.”
“I thought you said once someone joined up with Deirdre, there was no quitting.” Rafe watched as Reno poured the remaining dregs of coffee into a cup. He took a sip, made a face but then downed the rest of the cold liquid anyway.
“There isn’t. At least that’s what rumour says. Anyone who has left has died but then again, a lot of them were so bent on self-destruction that it’s hard to attribute a cause to their death. Were they assassinated or did they do themselves in?” Reno shrugged one shoulder.
Rafe nodded. “It’s not uncommon for prolonged conflict with one’s wolf to eventually lead to self-destructive behaviour. Addictions, reckless behaviour, even suicide are possible by-products.” He got to his feet and pulled a book off the shelf and held it out to Reno.
“What that?”
“The last book I wrote. You might find it helpful.” He set it on the chair Reno had been using. “What I’ve found is that a wolf’s sense of justice—what it feels is right and wrong—is set very early in life. For most wolves the purpose of killing is usually for food or defence. Working as an assassin—killing for money—would set up an inner conflict; man against beast. It eats away at the relationship while the wolf struggles to take control to stop the unacceptable activity.”
“So what do you think will happen to Damien?”
“It depends if he continues on the path he’s chosen.” Rafe knew it was cryptic answer but didn’t want to raise false hopes; he’d been wrong before.
Reno grunted and was silent for a moment, staring into his empty cup before crushing the Styrofoam and tossing it in the garbage. He cleared his throat. “The reason I stopped by was to let you know the investigators will be done with the site today. The cause of the fire is suspicious but undetermined and it appears your secretary, Annette, was overcome by smoke.”
The loss of Annette was still painful. “She was my first employee when I started the clinic.”
“So I’ve heard.” Reno paused and then continued. “How well did you know her?”
Rafe thought about the woman. He knew she took her coffee black, liked her desk organized, hated for anyone to touch her files… Rubbing the back of his neck, he frowned. Despite spending hours with Annette everyday, she’d never really shared that much about herself. Strange how he hadn’t noticed that before. “I know she lived alone and liked to visit friends on the weekends. She didn’t say much about what she did beyond that. I think they ate out a lot, went to shows...” His voice trailed off and he shrugged.
“Hmm…” Reno reached for the coffee pot again, realized it was empty and set it back down. “So I take it you didn’t know she was seriously in debt.”
“In debt?” Rafe raised his brows.
“Yeah. Her bank account was overdrawn and all her credit cards were maxed out. Drugs, gambling, expensive tastes…who knows? Strange thing is, there are occasional large deposits.” Reno looked at him inquiringly. “Any idea why?”
Rafe shook his head. “No. I wasn’t in the habit of giving out bonuses if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It was a long shot, but I thought I’d ask.” Reno sat down idly turning Rafe’s book over in his hand. “My best guess is she was dealing information. Brad Owen is looking it over right now, but it appears the deposits coincide with some of the Fae murders we’ve been tracking.”
A rock settled in the pit of Rafe’s stomach. Annette had been his employee for years. He’d trusted her implicitly. “But…” He stopped not knowing what to say.
“I think she was sharing information about the rogues, helping the Anti-Fae set them up to take the fall for the murders. You had information on file about where the more dangerous rogues were located –those who, in your professional opinion, were most likely to go over the edge.”
Rafe nodded and replied slowly. “Lycan Link would ask me to do assessments on occasion based on patterns of movement, reported behaviour and the rogues’ background. It was so everyone could be prepared to move quickly if the need arose.”
“That was its intended purpose, but it appears the Anti-Fae found another use for it.”
Rafe began to pace the room, a feeling of betrayal washing over him. He’d trusted Annette, thought they were working together to improve the plight of the rogue. “Hell, I’ve been helping to frame the very rogues I’d pledged to help. And assisting the Anti-Fae in killing my people!” Pausing by the wall, he slammed his fist into the surface. The wall cracked and pain swept up his arm but it helped take his mind off his inner turmoil.
“Punching the wall helps,” Reno nodded wisely. “I’ve done it a time or two, myself.”
Rafe cast him a scathing stare and cradled his now throbbing hand. “I must be an idiot not to have seen this.”
“Not necessarily. She presented the perfect image of an efficient employee, kept a low profile, and was helpful but unobtrusive. No one would have suspected her. You know she might have even been selling information to more than one group. At times, it looks like there are double deposits.”
“Is it possible…” Rafe paused, not wanting to voice what he was thinking but knowing that he had to. He cleared his throat and began again. “Could one of the groups she was working for have discovered she was working for someone else and killed her, then used the fire to cover up the fact?”
“Perhaps. Or she was
Rafe swore softly.
“It wasn’t just your clinic, you know. They’d infiltrated Rogue Retrieval as well. Adrian Somerset had assassins working right under his nose, submitting doctored reports, and he was never even aware of it.”
“I always knew Somerset was an idiot.” Rafe shook his head and gave a wry laugh. “Being in the same group as him isn’t comforting.”
“Don’t kick yourself too hard. None of us saw it. Hell, even forensics seems to be involved, providing falsified autopsies on dead rogues.” Reno rose to his feet. “We’re all at fault for being too damned smug, thinking that with Lycan Link we’d created a perfect organization filled with like-minded werewolves.”
“I guess any organization is open to corruption.”
Reno nodded and reached for the door, then paused. “Oh, Brandi wanted me to ask you if you were done being a dumb ass and were going to collect Eve any time soon.”
The non-sequitur had Rafe blinking. “I beg your pardon?”
“She also said something about nobility leaving your bed fucking cold at night.” He winked. “I might have rephrased that a bit but the meaning is the same.”
“Yes, well nobility has nothing to do with it. After enduring a wolf attack, the last thing Eve would want to do would be cozying up to a werewolf in bed.”
Reno snorted. “I suppose if she’s that frail and fragile it’s best you forget about her.”
Rafe disagreed. “Eve isn’t frail. She looks tiny but actually she’s quite fit.”
“Well, she obviously can’t deal with new situations.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Rafe frowned. “For a city girl, she adapted to living in an isolated cabin quite well.”