In the Crossfire (Bloodhaven) (21 page)

“I’ll visit Jamal tomorrow, just to give him a head’s up about Monday. He’s still . . . going through some turbulent emotions.”

“I’m not surprised. Don’t worry, Terris is perfectly capable of taking him on. By the way, Sara wants to know when you plan to come over for dinner. You canceled the last time.” The day Naley had arrived at Liam’s doorstep, to be precise.

Isobel hesitated. “I’ll let you know. Things have been . . . busy over here.”

The pause that followed was far too perceptive. “What is it? Are you all right?”

“Just fine, Grayson. You know me.”

“Exactly. That’s how I know something’s not right. Is it Naley?”

Trust Grayson to remember her weak spot, even though she hardly ever mentioned Naley to other people.

She couldn’t forget the fear that had seared her earlier, when she’d realized that Naley would forever be at risk whenever Isobel was put on mandatory leave and couldn’t hide her scent. All it took was one rogue coming after her with a grudge. What if Naley pulled another runaway stunt and came here without Isobel’s knowledge, and ran into a rogue who scented her relation to Isobel?

She couldn’t let herself think about it. She’d never escape that spiral of fear and worry. But neither could she let herself seek shelter in denial. She wasn’t the type to hide from facts. She had to face the possibility, and do something about it.

Liam had promised he’d be there to help keep Naley safe, but he wouldn’t always be there, would he? Whatever provisions Isobel made, she had to keep that in mind.

“Something’s up,” Grayson deduced in the silence. “What is it, Isobel?”

She shook her head, even though she knew Grayson couldn’t see it. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

Point. “Just . . . considering my options. Something I have to solve on my own. Naley’s staying with me now, but I can’t risk letting that be a permanent situation.” It was just too dangerous. “I have to figure out what to do with her.”

A gasp made Isobel whirl around. Naley stood there in the hallway, her mouth open, her eyes filled with tears of betrayal.

Ah, hell.

“You want to get rid of me?” Naley choked out.

“Cub, no. . . .” Isobel hung up without saying goodbye. She went to take Naley in her arms, but the girl stumbled back, hands held up to ward her off.

“You lied,” Naley accused. “You said you wanted me around!”

“I do. Cub, it’s not what you think.”

A shadow crossed the floor. Isobel looked up to see Liam’s frame cutting a sharp line through the doorway of the living room. He frowned in concern as he looked between Isobel and Naley.

“You lied!” Naley yelled. “You didn’t mean a word of it!”

She dodged out of reach and ran for the stairs. Liam was too quick for her, though, and grabbed her before she could hit the first step. He lifted her by the waist, not even grunting when Naley pummeled his shins with her feet.

“All that soccer’s definitely paid off,” he muttered as he set her down on the floor. He kept his hold on her, preventing her from running again.

Isobel hurried over to them. “Cub, listen to me. You misunderstood.”

“You don’t want me here!” The tears streaming down Naley’s young face broke Isobel’s heart. “You and Mom are just the same! You just want me gone!”

“
Stop.
” Isobel shook her gently by the shoulders. “Naley, I love you. I’ll always love you. And I do want you to stay.”

“Liar!”

“Hush,” Liam rumbled. “Your aunt always says what she means. You know that.”

Naley only sobbed.

“Let her go,” Isobel told him, and he did. She used her thumbs to tenderly wipe the wet streaks away from Naley’s cheeks. “Nalene Simona Saba, listen to me. More than anything, I want you to stay with me. I mean that. The only reason you heard me say what I said just now is I was afraid.”

“You’re not afraid of anything,” Naley sobbed.

“I’m terrified,” Isobel said unsteadily, “of losing you.”

Liam left Isobel and Naley to speak in private. He was still able to pick up part of their conversation due to his keen sense of hearing, but then he heard a door shut, and then silence, and he knew that they’d gone up to one of the bedrooms to speak.

He put the leftover pizza and toppings in the fridge, then carefully slid the used plates into the dishwasher. He didn’t switch it on; he hadn’t used one in years and the sheer number of buttons and lights unnerved him.

He looked up a few seconds before Isobel appeared in the doorway. She looked drained. Adrift.

“How is she?” he asked.

“Upset.” She ran a weary hand through her hair. “She’s settled down now, but I’m not sure if she truly believes me. I explained that I was only worried about her safety. About the risks involved, and the compound, and . . . and damn. I never wanted this part of my life to touch her.”

“You can’t shelter her forever.”

“I can certainly do so for as long as I can,” she shot back. “She’s had enough to deal with thanks to her mother. I’m not going to add my own issues to hers.” She glared as Liam approached her. “What, you expect me to break down and cry?”

“No. I expect you to let me hold you.”

The look in her eyes could cut glass, but then he reached for her, and she softened against him as he wrapped his arms around her. Her hands slowly rose to his waist, hovered for a moment, then rested there as she released a shaky breath.

He held her, knowing Isobel wasn’t the type to let her guard down easily. She rarely let anyone see her at her most vulnerable. He knew that every second of this, of her letting him hold and touch and see her like this, was a precious gift in and of itself.

“She’s growing up too fast,” Isobel murmured, words muffled against his chest.

He passed long strokes up and down her spine, feeling her relax with each motion. “Every child does.”

“She’s fourteen. She hasn’t really been a child in . . . too long.” Isobel shook her head. “Her mother’s wayward lifestyle doesn’t give her stability. Neither does my career.”

“Maybe all she wants is to provide her own input every now and then.” Liam felt her bristle in his arms. “I know you want what’s best for Naley. I know I haven’t known Naley for as long as you have. I just . . . recognize what it’s like. To not have control over your life.”

Isobel muttered something unintelligible, but she didn’t stiffen up. Liam took that as a good sign. He ran his palms over her bare arms. Their faint whisper of scars showed up more silver under the light.

“Is it just Naley’s safety you’re worried about?”

A responding huff below his chin made him smile. “I don’t
worry,
Liam. I just have a few things on my mind, that’s all.”

“Queen of understatements, aren’t you?”

“Watch it, wolf.”

He nuzzled her temple, steeping himself in winter smoke and sensual woman. “Why doesn’t the Council let its agents retain a supply of that scent-masking compound? You’d think they’d want to protect their agents, even off-duty. You’re not the first or only agent with loved ones to consider.”

Isobel sighed. “Most agents don’t have loved ones to consider. We knew going in that this is a very solitary field. The stress, the hours. . . . It’s hard to maintain any sort of bond outside of the job. Besides, the Council doesn’t want to risk unauthorized access to its resources. Files, databases, weapons—because the compound is considered a weapon, in a sense. All it takes is one person accumulating a large stash, enough to enable him to commit a crime and go into hiding for weeks.”

Liam frowned. “Have agents abused Council resources in the past?”

“Not Bloodhaven’s, but it did happen with a few other Councils during the early days, when Councils were only just starting to be established. Agents weren’t monitored as closely back then, to great cost. Rigid strictures have been in place ever since.”

“So the Council just leaves its agents in the lurch when they go home at the end of the day?”

“Of course not. The compound residue still lasts for several hours, assuming you’re back at work the next morning. And agents who don’t live in Council housing get their own homes decked out with a full seven-level security system, all expenses covered.”

“So this fortress you live in has seven levels of security.”

“Nine. I paid for the additional levels.”

“Let me get this straight. You have nine levels of security, a 24-hour monitored perimeter outside the property itself, a grumpy wolf who patrols the grounds, and you’re still worried about safety?”

Isobel glanced up. “Why, Liam Whelan, are you actually making a joke?”

“Of course not. I would never.”

She grinned, and Liam’s heart turned over at the way her face lit up. She was always so controlled, her sense of humor dry, that she rarely displayed such open feeling.

Then the smile faded, and she was quiet for a long moment.

He tightened his arms around her. “What is it?”

She rested her ear on his chest, right above his heart, and shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

She shrugged. “This. It's nice. Talking. Even if it’s just about little things. I've never really had that before.”

Liam splayed his hand over the small of her back, pressing her close. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her soft mass of hair, curly and abundant, no longer constrained and tied back.

He could do this, he thought. He couldn't follow her on her Council missions, or protect her when she was more than capable of protecting herself. But this he could do. He could be her sounding board. It didn’t matter if he stumbled with words or didn’t know the right thing to say. He could be with her like this, hold her when she needed the comfort of physical contact, embrace and shield her when she needed her defenses to fall.

That, he could do, and the knowledge came with great relief.

Their wild mating last night had been earth-shattering in its heat and passion, but this was good too, Liam realized. The quiet moments, the tender touches, the gentle warmth imbuing their skins. In many ways, this moved him a lot more.

He’d never felt this way about anyone before.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, in each other’s arms, but when Isobel shifted in his hold, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Do you still want me to stay?” he whispered.

She thought about it for a while. “It’s been a long day. I know earlier I intimated that we could . . . tonight. . . .”

“We don’t have to.” He kissed the inner curve of her ear. “That’s not what I’m asking. I can just hold you, if that’s what you want. I would love to just hold you.”

A soft sigh. “Then yes. Stay. Please,” she added, and Liam wondered if she’d ever just been held. If sexual pleasure was all she ever got from those men on her list.

She was used to hard, fast loving. He could see that now. She’d had to take physical respite wherever she could, whenever she could. She wasn’t used to simple intimacy.

Liam was hardly an expert himself, but he could learn. He was broken and bruised and incomplete, but he would learn, for this woman.

Together, they turned off the lights in the kitchen, living room, and hallway. Then Isobel linked their hands and led him up the stairs. Her bedroom was like the rest of her house—soft fabrics, plush furniture. Exactly the type a cat liked to curl up in.

“What’s got you smiling?”

He shook his head. He hadn’t realized he’d been smiling. Isobel stood near the window, shrugging out of her top. Moonlight, the only illumination in that dark room, cascaded over her lush curves.

She crooked her finger at him. He joined her by the window.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” She leaned against him and pointed. “Sometimes, at night, I look at your light from here.”

Liam glanced in the direction she pointed. The small, dark structure of his cabin loomed in the distance. Without taking his eyes off it, he lowered his head to hers.

“I have a secret too.” His lips grazed her ear, and he felt her shiver. “Sometimes, when I’m out on a run, I see you come home after a late night.” He paused. “You might want to invest in some curtains.”

Isobel looked startled. Then she laughed. “Why, you sly old wolf. Have you seen me undressing?”

He felt his smile widen.

“Your ears are turning red.” She grinned. “Well, now. I definitely have to make a production out of it from now on.”

He was still smiling when he turned her around, framed her face with his callused hands, and touched his mouth to hers.

* * *

The nightmares devoured Liam whole that night.

Bodies froze in mid-shift, mouths opening in silent screams as their hideous, misshapen, morphed selves lay trapped in that in-between place between animal and human. Faces melted into rivulets of blood, streaming to the ground, joining into one coagulated, voracious pool of red. It weaved its way across the cell to where Liam struggled in his chains. He scrabbled back uselessly, pressing himself back against the stone walls. The river of blood rose up and hovered in a broad wave to tower over him, coalescing to form the disembodied heads of his fallen comrades.