The Covert Wolf Page 4

  “Need to do a physical check.” Then he gave an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry, but I have to make sure nothing else is on your clothing. May I?”

  At her nod, he slid his hands over her body, gentle but thorough. Heat flushed her at the intimate examination. A lock of hair fell over his forehead and she felt a sudden compulsion to brush it back, feel the soft silk between her fingers.

  The lieutenant ran his fingers lightly over her breasts, his jaw tight, his gaze impartial. A man with a touch like that would be amazing in bed…. Sienna put her hands to her burning cheeks.

  “You okay?”

  She gave a breathless laugh. “Fine. Considering a worm almost ate into my Donna Karan suit. My only good suit.”

  A small smile touched his mouth, erasing his weary look, and it made him appear younger and more approachable.

  “Did you have any contact with anyone today, other than us? Anything unusual? Demon hitcher worms are transmitted through touch.”

  “This is New York. I probably bumped into hundreds of people.”

  “Must have been recent. They can’t survive more than a few hours, which is why they’re rarely used by demons.” His expression tightened. “Blood. The subway, the suit who followed you. He cut you. You had blood on your collar.”

  Sienna thought about it. “The man on the subway. He cut me with a knife. I changed shirts after I got to my hotel. How could he have infected me with the worm?”

  “The worm was on the knife. They begin as microscopic organisms, hiding on hard surfaces and then blend with whatever clothing a victim wears so they can hide.” Matt touched her healed wound. “He wasn’t trying to molest you. He was planting the worm. You’ve been followed and targeted, and traced. You okay?”

  The deep tone of his rough voice slid over her raging nerves, soothing them in an odd way. She didn’t trust Draicon wolves. Yet it was Lieutenant Parker whom she turned to now, laying her palm into his outstretched hand. He pulled her to his feet, his action decisive, his gaze alert.

  Sexual awareness flared between them. For a long moment his gaze locked on to hers, the blueness of his eyes smoldering with heat. He looked at her not as an annoying Fae, but as a female. A very desirable female. Just as quickly, he released her hand. He turned with a menacing scowl toward the chief petty officer.

  “What the hell were you thinking? No, wait, you weren’t. Because you’re always about trying to get into a female’s pants. You didn’t sweep her for bugs, and look what happened.”

  Low and deep, his voice proved more dangerous than if he’d shouted. Shaymore’s expression went flat. He stiffened.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I got distracted.”

  Matt got in his face. “You’re a fine operator, Shay, but you let a pretty face get to you and you’re not only burning yourself, you’re burning us. Think next time.”

  Lieutenant Commander Curtis looked concerned. “Are you all right, Miss McClare?”

  She nodded. So formal, his concern was courteous, not the simmering emotion she’d sensed from Lieutenant Parker. Matthew. Matt. She said his name to herself silently.

  Pairing with this sexy, lethal Draicon could prove dangerous. Those steely blue eyes promised heat, and could peel back all her defenses, leaving her bare and exposed.

  Sienna shuddered. Yet she needed Lieutenant Parker’s help if she were to recover the Orb of Light.

  Chapter 3

  Sienna was serious, but spunky, Matt thought as reluctant admiration filled him for the Fae who rode silently beside him. Her gaze was focused on the smokestacks, traffic and lead-gray sky that blurred past them.

  Her long, dark hair spilled over slender shoulders. They’d burned her clothing and Matt had bought her new clothes, just in case they missed any stray hitchhiker worms.

  But the crisp new jeans hugged her body and the mulberry sweater was too tight. He tried to keep his focus on the road, but hell, he was male. Couldn’t resist a peek at those long legs. She stood around five foot seven, petite for a Seelie Fae, with generous female curves. As formal and brisk as his examination had been, it had been torture. A man could cup her breasts in his palms, feel her soft and silky body beneath him, those long legs tangling with his as he…

  Swearing under his breath, he concentrated on the highway. His C.O. had fully briefed him on Sienna McClare while the Fae showered and changed. He knew everything, from her shoe size to her job as a clerk in a convenience store to recent purchases she’d made of classical music CDs. Everything except why she’d been living alone outside her Fae colony, when the Fae were traditionally forest dwellers and social creatures. That had been a gap in her file.

  He’d told Sienna as much as he could about their destination. Thanks to intel from their vampire buddy and his extensive network of spies, they’d gotten a bead on a witch in northern New Jersey. She’d asked local covens for protection spells against pyro demons because she’d used info from the Orb to “set up a Draicon werewolf and a jaguar overseas.” Now she was running scared.

  Be afraid, he thought grimly, remembering how Adam died. Because if you helped kill my buddy, I don’t know if I can control myself.

  For the first time he realized he might. Maybe that was why his C.O. sicced the pretty Fae on him. Curt knew Matt would hold it together around a female. Always had in the past.

  There’s a first time for everything.

  “Can I drive?”

  “Not on this freeway.”

  Sienna blew a breath on the window and rubbed her index finger over it. “What are the plans once we reach the witch’s house?”

  “I’ll question her. You hang back, keep an eye out.”

  “Question her? You won’t hurt her, shift and scare her? Show a little fang and terrorize her into talking?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “I’m sure you’ve done it before. That’s what Draicon do best.”

  Matt gritted his teeth. She was pretty, but infuriatingly stubborn. “Sweetheart, someone sold you a bad bill of goods about my people. We may have a bad rep among some paranorms…”

  “But underneath you’re all sweetness and good? Nice doggies who like car rides and sticking your heads out the windows to catch the wind? I heard you were all snarl and growl.”

  His fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he resisted the impulse to do exactly as she’d suggested.

  “I’m a U.S. Navy SEAL. My team and mission come first. Just as your Fae colony comes first for you.”

  Silence draped the air for a moment. “I have no colony anymore. No family.”

  Words spoken so quietly, he wouldn’t have heard them if not for being Draicon. Matt changed lanes and sped up. Odd, how they had that in common. His family had been close, hell, his own brother-in-law supported him joining the teams. It was Étienne who suggested Matt’s abilities would come in useful for the newly formed Phoenix Force.

  But in the ten years he’d been a SEAL, his family had become more distant. They’d started nagging about quitting, settling down into pack life, finding a mate and starting a family. The bonds he shared with his teammates were thick and strong as steel cable. He couldn’t leave the teams. Not with dark forces becoming more clever, and endangering more and more civilians.

  His team was his pack now. With a small pang, Matt realized he forgot how to be fully Draicon. He wouldn’t know a real relationship if it kissed him. He was a ladies’ man, but one-night stands were the norm. Relationship, hell, he couldn’t commit. Not when he got called out on an hour’s notice, or worse, never came back at all.

  Like Adam.

  Matt remembered Tatiana’s sobs. He couldn’t do that to a mate. He didn’t want one, didn’t want to fall into the trap of settling down and falling in love. Because falling in love meant giving up what mattered most to him, being a SEAL.

  “Can we start over?” Her voice was soft, a rub of velvet against his frayed nerves. “If we’re going to work together, we should try to get along. I’m sorry for the dog r
eferences.”

  “And I’ll try not to make any Mr. Spock jokes.”

  Sienna gave a small, sweet laugh, the sound stirring his jaded self. “Are all your assignments like this?”

  “No. We either go in as a pair—” he swallowed hard, thinking of Adam “—or as a team. I’m used to covert action, get in, get out and get gone. This is a little different for me. For one, I’ve never worked with a female before, let alone a Seelie Sidhe who can glamour as a Draicon.”

  Not that I’d trust one. Never.

  “My glamour isn’t limited to Draicon. It just happens to be the form easiest to me.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged, pushed at a lock of hair, showing her pointed ears.

  “Those have to go. They’re too obvious. Glamour yourself into a Draicon. We’re getting closer to our target.”

  Sienna shot him an annoyed look. “Aye, aye, captain.”

  “It’s lieutenant.”

  She made a sound and then muttered, “Fine. You want Draicon?”

  Matt nearly lost control of the car as she shifted. A gray-and-white timber wolf sat on the seat. She grinned, showing sharp canines.

  Startled, he jerked the wheel to the left, turning into the other lane. A driver he cut off blew the horn. Matt straightened out the car and glared at Sienna.

  Sienna the wolf put a large paw on the window button, rolling it down. She stuck her head out the window, tongue lolling.

  She had a sense of humor, after all. He slowed down, and as he thumbed the window up, she jerked her head inside.

  “I’d let you drive, but I don’t think your paws would touch the pedals.”

  With a low whine, she shifted into her human form. “You’ll really let me drive?”

  “Naw.” He considered. “You probably drive like an old lady.”

  Magick shimmered in the air again. This time, she took the form of a NASCAR driver.

  Matt laughed. Sienna resumed the form of a Draicon female, an impish smile on her mouth. Her very red, very wet mouth. A kissable mouth.

  Concentrate. “Back on the subway, tell me, what were you doing on Canal Street?”

  “I was following a lead in Chinatown.” She pushed at the long fall of her silky hair. “I’ve been working on my own, disguised as a Draicon, trying to find the Orb. A Draicon in Brooklyn told me a shop owner was selling something like that in Chinatown.”

  “Did you find anything out?”

  She shook her head with a small sigh. “It was a dead end. The shop had closed and the owner passed away. He was probably yanking on my chain.”

  “Or worse. Intending to wrap that chain around your neck.” He aimed her a stern look. “No more going solo.”

  When she opened her mouth, a line furrowing between her brows as if to protest, Matt added, “Or I’ll take those memories I left intact.”

  Her mouth closed.

  Minutes later, they drove down a narrow lane flanked by oak and maple trees. Matt turned into a street lined with two-story elegant homes, each house boasting about half an acre of property. Sienna blinked.

  “Guess spell casting is a lucrative business these days.”

  He didn’t reply. His gaze was focused on the patrol car blocking the street. Yellow crime scene tape was strung across the lawn of a brick home. Dread churned in his stomach.

  “That’s her house?” But even as their gazes met, he sensed she knew.

  Making a U-turn, he drove out of the neighborhood, down the lane and turned down an adjacent street. Matt parked and shut off the engine.

  “I’m going inside to check things out. You stay here.”

  “You said I was supposed to stick by your side. And how do you plan to get in? Shift into your wolf shape? That might raise a few brows. Or get someone to call animal control. I’ll go with you and glamour us so we blend in with the background. The cops will never know you’re here.”

  He gritted his teeth. Didn’t like it. He needed his team, not this sassy, pretty Fae who didn’t even know what a pyro demon could do to bare flesh.

  They were stuck together. And she was a Fae who could glamour.

  “Fine. But follow my orders,” he grated out.

  They cut through a well-manicured lawn, Sienna keeping up the cloak of glamour to hide their presence. Uniformed police and detectives in worn jackets milled in the driveway. A maple tree, resplendent in fall crimson, stood guard next to a pole where an American flag fluttered in the slight breeze. With its black shutters, crisp brick and trimmed bushes, the house looked no different from its upscale neighbors’.

  Except for the blood splatters on the green grass.

  The magick shimmered for a minute as Sienna gasped. Matt shook his head. “Don’t fall apart on me now.”

  She shot him a cool look. “I don’t fall apart.”

  “Good girl. Keep up the glamour or they’ll see us.”

  As they neared the house, Matt led her to the deserted side of the house, sheltered by a tall hedge.

  “I’m going inside. Stay here.”

  “Let me help. I can glean some information while you’re inside.”

  Matt clasped her shoulders, feeling delicate bones and soft skin. She was courageous and tough, as he’d seen on the subway, but this was different. Eyes green as a forest gazed at him. The same sharp, sexual energy jumped between them like an electrical wire. He became fully aware of her slight stature, how broad and big he was compared to her. Beneath the tight sweater, her breasts were full and lush. A man could cup them in his palms, stroking his thumbs slowly over the nipples until she became flushed and aroused. Draw her close until the jagged need became consuming.

  Trying to ignore her delicious scent, he roped in the tight control that enabled him to endure hours of physical pain during Hell Week. He focused on the mission. She was female, and his primal instincts were to keep her safe. No matter how many would-be human molesters she could take out with her knee.

  “No. It’s too risky. This wasn’t my choice, but I agreed to this assignment. I had my doubts about working with you.”

  “Because I’m a civilian?” Those mossy green eyes regarded him with frank amusement. “No prob.”

  Suddenly Matt faced a tall, gangly G.I. in a mesh-covered helmet, vintage cammies and worn army boots. There was a distinct smile on the G.I.’s face as he stood straight and tall and then hefted a squeaky-clean rifle.

  “Hey, there, Lieutenant Dan. Is this better?” she drawled.

  Saying nothing, he gave her a pointed look. She sighed and resumed her normal form. “That wasn’t good enough for you?”

  “If you’re going to conjure Tom Hanks, then Saving Private Ryan would have proved a better argument,” he said mildly.

  Her pert nose wrinkled. “I don’t like war movies.”

  “My point exactly.”

  Sienna made an irritated sound. “What is it, Lieutenant? You don’t like females? Or civilians? Or your tighty whities are a little too tight?”

  More sass. He folded his arms, waited for her to get it. He had endless patience. Once, he’d disguised himself as a wolf and spent three nights lying in a hollow log in an attempt to catch a rogue shape-shifter. Sienna tilted her head, the long fall of her mink-brown hair spilling to one side. The move gave her an exotic, sexy look. “Oh, wait. Maybe it’s because I’m Fae.”

  “Score. That’s not changing. Neither is the civilian or—” he gave her legs an appreciative glance “—the female part. And you have no experience in covert ops. So I’m calling the shots.”

  “Bit of a control freak, aren’t we?”

  Checking his sidearm, he ignored that comment. If he were more of a control freak, maybe Adam wouldn’t have died.

  “Wait.” She caught his hand. Matt stared at the slender fingers covering his. The intoxicating scent of warm female made his senses whirl. Too long since he’d felt a woman’s soft touch. Too long since he’d had a woman in his bed.

  “When you go inside, I’ll stay outside, pr
etend to be a curious bystander, see what I can overhear.”

  “No.”

  Sienna dropped his hand and sighed. “Listen, we don’t like each other, but we have to work together. With all these police around, who would hurt me?”

  He fought the urge to send her back to the car. His Draicon senses screamed danger. But she was right.

  “You sense anything off, you come and get me. Deal?”

  She knuckle-bumped him, green eyes huge in her solemn face. “Deal.”

  “FYI, I don’t wear tighty whities.”

  “Oh, you’re a boxer wolf? What do you wear?”

  Matt dipped his head close to her shell-like ear. A few strands of silky hair lifted with his warm breath as he gently blew.

  “Nothing,” he whispered.

  The spice of her female scent sharpened. Matt grinned and touched her mouth, parted in a small O. “Stay alert.”

  Cops lingered in the back, dusting the sliding door that led into the kitchen. Black fingerprint powder smeared the sparkling glass. He waited a moment to ensure Sienna’s glamour hiding him would hold, then slipped through the opened door.

  Except for a few blood splatters on the floor that had been marked off, the kitchen was neat and clean, with polished oak cabinets, a shiny black granite countertop and dish towels with apple motifs hanging from the stainless-steel stove. Dark, malevolent magick shimmered in the air. The stench of sulfur and rotting flesh mingled with the coppery scent of blood. Matt clamped a hand over his mouth as he headed into the adjoining dining room.

  A young woman sat at a long maple table, sobbing. “I didn’t do it. I swear, I loved my mother. It was El Diablo. El Diablo!”

  The devil?

  The front door opened. The police hustled the woman outside. Matt searched with all his senses. Nothing here, no warding spells, no candles, as if someone had erased evidence a witch lived here.

  He started searching the bedrooms, opening drawers quietly, checking every corner. Upstairs in a small rose-colored bedroom, he ground to a halt, catching the scent of fear.