Masked Attraction (10 page)

Although, if Noah became alpha, he might. Noah might accept them as mates, and…and her wolf might, and Daniel…

He turned from her to study the open display.

Her chest froze. Daniel might not.

“The glass isn’t smashed.” He touched the case. “That means a key was used to open it. Not your key, because I have that.”

She smiled through her unshed tears. Whatever her feelings, whatever
his
feelings, he’d help her, and he’d get the job done. At least she could rely on that. “Zeus?”

“That’s my guess.”

“But how? You took it back before he could use it.”

“He must’ve made a copy.”

“Why chase us then?”

“I don’t know.” His lips pursed in thought.

He had insanely kissable lips.

Stupid mated wolf. She shook her head at herself. “But why make a copy if he had the original?”

“Also a good question. Is there only the one key?”

“Yes. The display case is from my motorcycle store, for sunglasses and goggles. I lost the spare months ago and haven’t had time to make another.”

“Your party planner?”

“I gave her the original.”

“Hmm.”

He frowned and bent to study the case closely, picking out a speck of something. Always thinking, always observing.

Dork.
She smiled, watching his intent face. His intent, handsome face. He’d been a dork, and while that part of him was still inside, it was covered by a very successful façade. Athletic and handsome, and from the tailored tux and Ferrari, rich, too. Her smile faded.

Rich, classy, and successful. Doubt crept in. Sure, he’d always been there for her, was still there for her—but probably only as a friend. Yet, she was mated to him.

Mated without romance. Her body iced. Her worst fear come true.

And what would happen when he found out? Would he reject her? Because he’d find out sooner or later. Even if she didn’t tell him, the fact that she was always around, jumping into his bed, would.

She’d have to tell him and hope he didn’t dump her as fast as Tommy.

“You don’t look so good.” Daniel turned from the case and studied her with the same intense concentration. “Let’s sit you down.”

“I am feeling a bit unsettled.”

He took her by the elbow. She was a strong, independent woman and wolf, but just this once, she leaned on his strength. Besides, her heels were killing her.

They’d almost reached the back exit, and she was anticipating cooler, fresher air, when the door slammed open.

Zeus.

He barged in, panting and disheveled. From the disgusted expression on his cowled face, it was obvious he’d been dashing up and down Lincoln Memorial looking for them the whole time they were in the closet.

“Run?” she whispered to Daniel, almost glad, almost hoping for another closet and a chance to be together one more time.

“No.”

To her surprise Daniel shook his head with a low growl.

He let go of her elbow, stalked across the gap, grabbed Zeus—and slammed him bodily into the wall.

Astonished gasps echoed hers. She took a step toward Daniel, her heart racing, her skin tingling in anticipation… It startled her. Yes, her human was appalled, but her wolf was very near the surface, and it was panting in
delight.

Surprisingly, as the crowd of elegant people gathered around her and the two men, their expressions didn’t seem so much shocked as thrilled either. Even Ms. Classypants leaned forward, hands clasped in an age-old gesture of excitement.

Daniel, anger radiating from every taut muscle, didn’t seem to care he had an audience. “I’ll give you one chance, Zeus. Leave her alone.” He bared his teeth, nailed the cowled man in the eye, and
growled like a wolf
.

Shock radiated from Zoe’s very flesh.
Daniel had an inner wolf?
Was that why he was challenging the brutal man now, when he’d run with her before? How could that have happened? From mating with her?

She’d never heard of it before.

Zeus glanced toward the exit as if judging the distance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The barest hint of a submissive whine entered his tone.

Zoe’s wolf howled with glee.

“Wrong answer.” Daniel grabbed the reeling man, shoved him back through the door, and strode out of the ballroom after him. The door slammed shut behind them.

Zoe was so surprised, she delayed a split second before leaping to follow. She slid through the door silently, shut it again as Daniel slammed Zeus against the far wall. The hallway was cooler, but heating up fast.

“Why are you here?” He leaned into Zeus, using his greater height to his advantage, radiating rage into the cowled man’s face. “You already have what you want. Tell me everything.
Now.
”

Behind Zoe, the door started to open again. Her wolf approved—everything important was done in front of the pack, from mating rituals to alpha fights—but Daniel was obviously hanging onto his temper by a hair, and her human didn’t want witnesses if things got ugly. She twisted to catch a man’s face in the gap, shoved him back and pushed the door shut, needing her wolf’s strength to do it. No lock on this side, so she barred the door with her own body.

Zeus surged forward from the wall. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“A pissed suitor.” Daniel planted his fist in the brutal face.

Ripped cowl bounced against the wall, so hard stitching broke and a tuft of dark brown hair sprang out. The man’s nose gushed blood. “You fuckin’ bastar’. No’ again!”

His hand, covering his nose, muffled the words. He raised the other hand, a wand in it. That spoke loud and clear.

Howling moons, Zeus was a witch.

Her heart dropped through her stomach and out her bowels. Witches were bad news. Daniel was in danger. Even a wolf shifter couldn’t beat a truly powerful witch…

Daniel punched Zeus in the nose again. The wand fell from his hand, hitting the thin carpet with a dull clatter.

For a stunned second, Zeus stood there, eyes wide. Taking full advantage, Daniel grabbed the witch’s raised wrist, twisting down and around. He stepped out with it, putting his hip into Zeus’ waist and neatly flipping the other man to the ground.
Whump.

Zoe’s wolf howled in approval. Her human body flushed warm. Not only had Daniel bested a witch, he’d done so easily. His fluid fighting appealed to both the wolf
and
the woman.

“Now talk.” He reached into Zeus’ jacket pocket, snatched the man’s crisp white handkerchief and stuffed it against his face. “The parchment. The key. Everything.”

“Yeh! O’ay.” Zeus’ chainsaw voice was muffled by the handkerchief. He scrambled to his feet, reeled and braced himself against the wall. “Jus’ no more hitting.” He slurred it, hih-in’.

“No promises. Talk.”

Zeus shot him a black look but started talking. “I wanted the parchment.” Sounded more like wah-hed duh par-men. “I tried to magic the thing out of its case. No go. So I light-fingered the key from Lady Boobsalot.” He grinned. “Like fondling king-size pillows—”

“One more word like that, and I’ll throttle you,” Daniel said pleasantly.

Zeus swallowed hard. “The key opened the box, but I couldn’t touch the damned thing. Some sorta jinx. So I got a mundane chick to try to take it, but even
she
couldn’t touch it.”

“It’s a geis, asshole,” Daniel said. “Cut to the chase. I don’t want to know how you failed. I want to know how you succeeded.”

An evil glint sparked in Zeus’ eye. “I didn’t,
asshole
. You think I have the Quatrain? I don’t. Sucker!”

Zoe’s heart took a nose dive. Her parchment was missing and the only suspect didn’t have it. But more, there was a magical geis on it—
and Daniel knew it.

Her hero had a lot of explaining to do.

Chapter Nine

Daniel flashed open his third eye and scanned the brutal-faced man on the ethereal. Zeus was telling the truth. Damn and blast. He shoved away in disgust, turned to see Zoe, her gaze narrowed on him, and felt all the blood drain from his body.

She stood at the door, barring it. Hells bells, he’d thought he’d locked it magically. She’d potentially heard everything.

Including the bits that could tell a clever wolf her prize was more than it seemed.

Time for distraction. “He doesn’t have the parchment. Let’s go.”

Daniel took her arm and tried to urge her back into the ballroom. She refused to move, a bad sign.

“What did Zeus mean?”

“Mean?” His stomach froze in his belly. “Well, that we’ll have to look elsewhere for it.”

“No, what did he mean, he tried to ‘magic’ the parchment out?”

He tried to shrug it off. “Light-finger. Pickpocket. You know, magic fingers.”

“I see.” Her raised eyebrow, winging above her mask, said she did see, too much.

He grinned, considering the possibility of using sex as a distraction.
Okay, new plan. Don’t take her back to the ballroom but to the prep room.
Something inside him howled with approval.

“What about that name he used? That’s the second time he called the parchment that.”

“Name? What name?” But his stomach dropped out his toes. Thunderation, he was too late.

“The
Quatrain.
” Her emerald gaze was particularly narrow, searching his face. “Do you know what that is, Daniel? The Quatrain?”

He swallowed hard. What could he say?

He couldn’t lie. He never even considered it, though he knew dozens of convenient, Council-approved misinformations. But he’d never abuse her trust that way, especially not after what they’d shared in the closet.

Yet what was the alternative? Tell her he’d come to the party because he was like all the rest, not really interested in her, only the prize she offered?

The truth might hurt her. That was unacceptable.

His brain fought to work through the icy slush of his emotions. It was clamoring,
There’s a way.
Dork. Always thinking, even now.

If only he could turn back the clock. Tell her the truth the moment he knew her identity… That would’ve been the right thing to do, but stupidly, he couldn’t get past the fact that then, she’d never have made love with him.

But since he hadn’t told her, he was in a horrible spot, with no good way out. He wanted to bash his own head into the wall, needing a solution that wouldn’t hurt the one woman who mattered, but his idiot brain still had no solution except telling her the truth, his gears grinding…and the
truth
was, he was just a nice guy to her, a dork, a handy penis for a bit of sex and not particularly good sex at that.

Why would she be hurt if I told her I’d come for the parchment? Because my ego needs her to care that much?

He stopped breathing.

She might be angry, but she wouldn’t be hurt. Just because his heart would have a hole… He’d have to offer her something to use in lieu of the parchment. But once he explained what the Quatrain was and told her about the world-burning need not to let it fall into the wrong hands, she’d come to the right conclusion, he was certain. She’d give it to him.

Then she’d probably march right out of his life.

Except they were mated. He wondered how that would work. Would she visit him whenever her wolf demanded sex, maybe once a month?

With her, he’d take what he could get.

Assuming she didn’t try to dissolve the mating as unnatural, which was far more likely.

He gritted his teeth. Didn’t matter. Whatever was best for her, he’d live with.

“Walk with me.” He took her arm and turned her toward the prep room.

Zeus stumbled away, maybe looking for first aid. He no longer mattered.

Daniel led Zoe along the corridor. Behind them, the door slammed open, the curious filtering into the hallway, but they no longer mattered either.

In the prep room, he locked the door, then, to be sure, checked behind the screen. His gaze lighted on the couch, where they’d battled for top. He smiled faintly. He wondered if he’d ever be able to do that with her again.

When he was sure there were no physical ears, he checked again for other bugs, both magical and mechanical. The room was still clean.

He found a couple chairs—he thought for exactly one second about that couch, but if they were to get any talking done, that was out—and sat her down and began.

“You know your parchment has visible writing?”

“Yes. Four words. Heart, mind, soul, and key.”

“There’s invisible writing, too, in the magical version of disappearing ink.”

“Magical ink…?” She eyed him.

He met her gaze steadily and saw when awareness dawned.

Her eyes widened, those gorgeous emerald eyes, and her hand covered her bosom in an uncharacteristically feminine response. “You’re a wizard?”

The sight of her slim, pale hand resting against the rounded pillows of her breasts—yes, Zeus was right, damn him—made Daniel want to replace those fingers with his own. Or his mouth…

He dragged his brain from his pants. “Yes.”

“A wizard.” She shook her head in wonder. “I’d already figured Zeus was, but you…wow.”

“Which reminds me…it probably won’t be an issue for you, but don’t say anything about what happened between us in the closet. To anyone.”

“Why?”

“Do you know about the Witches’ Council?”

She nodded. “They’re secretive, but I’ve heard stories.”

“Well, if the Council finds out we’ve made lo…I mean had sex, they’ll try to erase your memory.”

“And you?” Her eyes narrowed on him. “Will they do anything to you?”

“They might execute me. But there’s a more important matter.”

“
Execute?
” The word practically exploded from her. “What can be more important than you dying?”

“The
world
dying. That’s what may happen if your parchment falls into the wrong hands. It’s why I originally came tonight, before I knew you were here. Before I knew the parchment was yours. When the ink is treated with the proper potion, it will reveal the Avignon Quatrain, lost prophecy of Jean-Dion d’Avignon.”

“A
prophecy?
” She put her hands on her knees and laughed. “Vague, sinister-sounding nonsense.”

“Maybe most are.” He took her hands in his, trying to tell her through touch how important this was. “This one comes from the greatest wizard of history. Avignon’s are specific, and they all come true.”

Her emerald gaze searched his face, her smile fading. “You believe it. You believe all this. All right, then, if my parchment has this prophecy, why haven’t you used magic to get it back? To read it? Come to think, if this Quatrain is so famous, why don’t you already know what it says?”

“It was lost for centuries. And tonight, I
couldn’t
take it. No mage can. There’s a geis on it, tying the parchment to its owner—you. I also can’t read it without a physical potion.”

She arched a brow at him. “Then how do you know my four-word parchment is your four-line Quatrain?”

“A family seer said so. She also said if the wrong wizard gets his hands on it, it’ll be the end of magic as we know it.”

She tried a laugh. “What’d I say? Sinister-sounding.”

“Yes. But also specific.”

“Not really that specific. What does end-of-magic mean? Shifters lose their ability to shift?”

“Maybe.” He shook his head in wonder. Faced with a frightening world of power beyond her own, yet she was asking smart, practical questions. “Or maybe witches will be unable to manipulate magic. Or maybe the whole planet goes poof. We simply don’t know. Zoe, I’ll give you a prize to replace your parchment, but we have to secure the Quatrain. You must believe me.”

One brow raised. “I don’t have to, actually.”

“Zoe, please—”

“But if
you
believe it, that’s good enough for me.”

He blinked, amazed.

“Okay, let’s locate that parchment. Did you use magic to find Zeus had the key? Maybe you can do the same thing to find the parchment.”

She was a miracle. She wasn’t panicking, wasn’t angry he hadn’t told her, wasn’t fighting him. She was simply listening, accepting. Planning.

Beautiful, practical, and smart. If it weren’t for the Council’s ban, she’d be the perfect wife for him.

“A magical find spell would be perfect. Problem is, I’d need the starting point— in this instance, the glass case. But I can’t do the locater spell in the ballroom, not with all those people watching. I could use a representative item, but a trace works best when the item has a living resonance—a hair, a fingernail. For the key, resting against your skin, that was
you,
via the napkin. In this case, I’d need personal residue from the thief.”

“I’m guessing he or she didn’t drop and convenient nails or hairs.” She snapped her fingers. “What about fingerprints or sweat?”

A definite miracle. “Good thinking. I examined the case, but I didn’t find anything I could swab. The thief must’ve used gloves.”

“Damn. Then what can we do?”

Her gaze on him was warm. She trusted him, trusted his dorky brain to think of a plan.

“Well…” He smiled, about to pull the best magic trick of his life, because
she
was his audience. “I did find this bit of trace.” He pulled out his handkerchief, carefully unwrapped it to show a single cotton thread.

“From a glove?” She grinned. “Nice.” She stood. “Okay, let’s find my parchment.”

He shook his head. “I need something from you first. I’ve told you the truth—now it’s your turn. What happened to your eyes?”