Trickster (4 page)

Mark blushed. Knowing he had to be
satisfied with that for now, Delaney shifted and trotted out of the room.

****

Shaken, Mark called 911 about the
attack, leaving out the bit about the shape-shifting coyote who claimed to be
his mate. The police arrived minutes later, one officer taking his statement
while the other prowled through the apartment.

He came back to the living room
minutes later, looking grim. “They came in through the balcony door in your
bedroom. Cut a pane of glass right out of the door and opened the dead bolt and
lock.”

Mark felt sick. “Can you get
fingerprints or anything?”

“We’ll have CSI come out and print
the door, but I’ve got a bad feeling they’re not going to find much. These guys
are definitely pros.” He glanced at the splashes of Greasy’s blood on the
carpet. “We’ll probably have an easier time doing a DNA match from that, if they’re
in the system.”

The officer who had taken his
statement shook her head. “Can you think of any reason why they might have
targeted you, Mr. Fellowes?”

A tension headache was building
behind his eyes. He forced himself to think. “They kept talking about my
employer, Trickster Tech. They must have thought I had company information on
my laptop. But I never bring anything like that home.”

The police officer frowned at that.
“Sounds like they had a specific target in mind, then. It’s up to you, but I’d
strongly suggest that you stay somewhere else, at least for tonight.”

Before Mark could protest there was
a brief knock at the door, and a man and woman in dark blue jackets emblazoned
with PLANO CSI came in. Behind them was Delaney, dressed now and looking
serious.

He introduced himself as Trickster’s
CTO to the police officers. “I was informed that Mr. Fellowes had a home
invasion tonight.”

The police officer’s eyebrows rose,
but he nodded. “Do you have any idea why someone might have broken into Mr.
Fellowes’s apartment, Mr. Smith?”

Now Delaney looked grim. “We do
online security systems for a number of financial institutions. My guess is
that the thieves thought Mr. Fellowes might have brought confidential information
home. Unfortunately for them, we have a strict policy that all sensitive files have
to remain onsite.” He glanced at Mark. “That being said, I feel that Trickster
is partially responsible for this incident. Once you’re finished taking Mr.
Fellowes’s statement, I’d like to make arrangements for him to stay somewhere
else, at least until his apartment can be better secured.”

“As long as we know where he’ll be,
that’s fine.” The police officer looked at Mark. “That okay with you, Mr.
Fellowes?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s a good idea,”
Mark admitted. He hated the generic blandness of hotel rooms, but he knew he
wouldn’t be able to sleep in his own bedroom tonight, not with a hole in the
outside door. “Can I go pack a bag?”

“Of course. I’ll get the contact details
from Mr. Smith.”

Head now truly pounding, Mark stood
and headed into the bedroom where the CSI team was already busy dusting for
prints. After throwing toiletries, underwear, a change of clothing and a clean
suit into a carryon bag, he came back out and found the cops gone. Delaney,
however, was waiting for him.

“Come on,” the taller man said, not
quite putting an arm around his waist. “We need to talk.”

Mark nodded.
About a lot of things.

Chapter Four

Delaney guided Mark outside. The
other man slouched over, and Delaney noticed the pain lines around Mark’s eyes.
The only blood he could smell was that of the attackers, but that didn’t rule
out internal injuries.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Did they
hit you anywhere?”

“No. Well, I banged my hip when I
fell on the chair.” Mark rubbed his forehead. “I just have a blazing headache.”

“Oh.” That Delaney understood. “Adrenaline
hangover. I’ll get you some water and Tylenol when we get home.”

“Home?” Mark straightened up. “What
do you mean, home?”

“I’m taking you home with me
tonight. You’ll be safer there than in a hotel.”

“Oh, no, hell no, you are not—”

“We also need to talk, remember? About
the mate thing. Not to mention the whole shapeshifter thing. I don’t want to do
that in a hotel room for obvious reasons.” Delaney sighed. “Don’t worry, your
virtue is safe with me. I’ve got a fully loaded guest room with its own
bathroom. You can stay there. Go ahead and lock the door if it makes you feel
better.”

Mark colored at that, but finally
nodded.

They got into Delaney’s BMW and
pulled out of the apartment complex. The shifter guided the car through the
dark Plano streets, almost missing Mark’s soft mutter of, “This is crazy.”

That was more like it. “Not really,”
Delaney said. “If you think about it, the concept of shapeshifters is extremely
common throughout human mythology and folklore. Gods cycling through various
forms to seduce human maidens, women turning into foxes, werewolves and
vampires, all that. Now you know why. There’s always a kernel of truth in every
folk tale, after all.”

“I wasn’t talking about
shapeshifting, although, yeah, saying that comes as a major surprise is an
understatement. I meant....” He trailed off. “I’ve never even thought about
kissing a guy before.”

“I’ve only done it a couple of
times, myself.” Delaney glanced out of the corner of his eye and thought he
caught Mark blushing again. “It didn’t seem to weird you out much.”

“No, it didn’t.” Mark sounded
puzzled at that. “You’re, um ... you’re good at that. Kissing, I mean.”

“What can I say? I was inspired.”

Mark made a small noise somewhere
between a cough and a choke, and turned to stare out the window. In the dark, Delaney
allowed himself a small, hopeful smile..

****

They pulled into a pricey gated
neighborhood on the north side of Plano. Mark tried not to feel intimidated by
the luxurious houses, but even he was impressed when they pulled into the
driveway of a meticulously maintained red brick Victorian.

“This is where you live?” He
suddenly wondered if Smith had a wife and kids. The brief stab of pain caused
by the thought surprised him.

The shifter shrugged. “Yeah. I know
it’s big for one guy, but I get a lot of guests. And it’ll be a great house for
kids someday.”

Mark felt an odd little tingle in his
chest.
He’s not suggesting ... he can’t
be. I mean, just because he’s my mate doesn’t mean we can —shit.
He winced.
I called him my mate. Shit shit shit.

Grabbing his bag, he got out and
followed Smith into the house. The décor was high-end casual but comfortable,
with wooden floors and warm colors giving the place a welcoming feel. Smith
gestured him upstairs, guiding him to a good-sized guest room with a desk,
dresser, queen-sized bed and plush bedding. “Bathroom’s through there, complete
with toiletries, and there’s some Tylenol in the medicine cabinet,” he said,
waving at a door kitty-corner from the one they stood in. “The Wi-Fi password
is in the top desk drawer, and I can set you up with VPN access to Trickster’s
servers tomorrow if we need it. If you want to take a shower and get settled in,
I’ll call Scott and tell him what happened.”

“I thought we were going to talk.”

The shifter gave him an oddly compassionate
look. “I’d rather do that once you’re comfortable and your head isn’t trying to
explode. Go take a shower. I’ll be back in a bit.”

He turned and left. Mark suddenly felt
exhausted, the last of the adrenaline rush fading from his system.
Shower. God, that sounds good.

Closing the bedroom door, he tossed
his bag on the bed and started digging for clean clothes.

****

Delaney paced his bedroom, phone
pressed to his ear. “What do you mean, maybe he was in on it?

A sigh drifted down the line. “I’m
just covering all the bases, all right?” Scott said. “You have to admit it’s a
classic honey trap scenario: cute little thing gets you all hot with mating
pheromones, pretends to be attacked, and gains your sympathy and trust. Next
thing we know, he’s asking if he could get higher access to the servers, take
files home, yadda yadda. Are you telling me you’d say no to your mate?”

Delaney scowled. The Trickster CEO
had listened to his story about the attack and implications to company security,
then asked if there was a possibility that Mark could have orchestrated the
attack. He knew it was Scott’s job to make sure there were no loose ends, but
he didn’t like the implications about his mate. “That’s bullshit and you know
it. For one thing, he’d have to know I was a shifter—and trust me, he didn’t. Secondly,
how the hell could he fake a mating scent, especially one that was tailored to
me?”

“I don’t know,” his Alpha admitted.
“But this seems really coincidental with those hacking attempts on the Lone
Star files last month. I know we moved the project to our sandboxed servers,
but that may have just prompted our hacker to get physical access to them. And
your mate may be that route.” There was a sigh on the other end. “Look, I hired
him, so I’m sharing in the responsibility here. If you tell me he didn’t know
anything, then I won’t argue. I just need to know we’re locked down on this,
Del.”

“We are,” Delaney promised. “I
swear to God, he had nothing to do with it. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll
personally keep an eye on him.”

“Is that what they’re calling ‘pounding
him into the mattress’ these days?”

“Fuck you.”

“Sorry, I don’t bottom. Also,
Carmen would kill you, and then I’d have to find another CTO.” Beneath the banter,
he could hear the concern and determination in his Alpha’s voice. “You know the
last thing I want to do is screw up your mating. But the sooner we figure out
who’s trying to hack the Lone Star project, the better. If you can definitively
clear Mark on this, it’ll be a load off my mind.”

Delaney pinched the bridge of his
nose and sighed. “Yeah, I hear you. I’ll do some digging. And tomorrow I’ll go
in and install surveillance nodes on the network access. Maybe we’ll luck out
and catch our visitor red-handed.”

“Sounds like a plan. Keep me
updated.”

“Will do.”

Delaney ended the call and tossed
the phone on his bedside table. He understood the importance of finding out who
was trying to hack into Trickster’s servers. But God, this was a shitty time
for him to have to play Sherlock, especially with his mate as the target.

Leaving his bedroom, he headed to
the guest room and knocked on the door. “Mark? Can I come in?”

There was no answer. He opened the
door and peered inside. Mark’s open bag was on the bed, and the bathroom door
was shut. Behind it, he could hear the sound of the shower.

His natural curiosity kicked into
gear. Quietly, he slipped into the room and closed the door behind him,
ignoring the faint flicker of guilt.
Come
on, nosing around is what coyotes do. And Scott pretty much ordered me to check
him out more thoroughly right? I’m just following my Alpha’s orders.

Mark’s bag turned out to hold nothing
but a clean set of casual clothes, some underwear, and a dress shirt, suit, and
tie. Delaney took a deep breath, savoring the warm, woody scent wafting up from
the clothes. A powerfully attractive image of shucking off his clothes and
joining his mate in the shower came to him.
I
could scrub him clean all over, yeah, then kneel down and rim him until he’s
begging—

His enhanced hearing picked up a
soft moan. He stepped to the bathroom door, listening. Another moan, almost
muffled by the sound the falling water, and a familiar slicking sound.

Delaney went hot all over, and his
cock sprang back to life.
Oh, fuck. He’s four
feet from me and he’s jacking off. Fuck, that’s so not fair.

His hand drifted to the front of
his slacks, massaging the thick ridge there as he listened to his mate masturbate.
When Mark grunted hard and came, Delaney was almost right behind him. Gritting
his teeth, he pulled his hand away, willing his heartbeat to slow down as the
shower stopped.

The bathroom door opened and Mark
stepped out, rubbing a towel over his hair. Another one was wrapped around his narrow
hips, and Delaney wanted to take it off with his teeth.

He cleared his throat. Mark yelped
and spun, bumping into the dresser next to the bed. The towel around his waist
started to slip, and Delaney caught a glimpse of pale, muscled hip before he yanked
the terrycloth back into place.

Panting, he glared at Delaney. “Jesus
Christ, what is
wrong
with you?” he
yelled. “Do you even know how to knock?”

“I did,” Delaney said, trying to
sound innocent. “You didn’t answer so I got worried. Didn’t know you were in
the shower until I came in here.”
And you
were coming in there.

Without his glasses, Mark’s
resemblance to a furious faun was even more striking. “God. I do not
need
any more of this tonight,” he growled.