14. Chapter Fourteen

The bar was damn near empty. Only two businessmen, I assumed by the suits, were sitting at the bar proper. I pointed to a small corner table. Between the distance and the music, our conversation would go uninterrupted and unheard.

"What would you like to drink?" he asked, leaning over me, his hand finding my lower back. I tensed, feeling the warmth through my shirt. Instead of removing the hand, he curled slightly, acknowledging he knew what he was doing. "Darlin', what do you want to drink?" His Southern accent grew heavier, and there was an intimacy in his tone.

I picked up on it quickly and hissed softly. "A whiskey, but this is completely unnecessary."

"I'm just trying to make the humans think we're nothing important."

"And if a wolf sees us? Or anything else?" I snapped, stepping away from him. "Last thing we need is to give the impression we're something when we aren't."

"Fine." He raised his hands and walked to the bar.

I took my chance to get to the table and made sure there were only two chairs, and they were far apart. I refused to think about how his hand had felt…good. Warm and comfortable, just like when he tended my injuries. Gentle, just like every time he touched me, moments I could count on one hand and recall with perfect clarity.

I slid into my seat and sighed. I didn't need to get snappy with him. When he came to the table with our drinks, I took mine with a quiet thank you.

"Sorry," he murmured. "When I'm with other wolves, we try to act…like something human. Guys out to watch the game when we don't care. That kind of thing."

"I'm not used to being touched," I quietly explained. "It's not bad thinking, though. I just…I'm not a wolf, Heath."

"You're right." He sipped on his beer, and I reached out to pull my whiskey closer. For a while, we concentrated on our drinks. Heath shifted in his seat, and I wondered if his frame was too bulky to feel comfortable on the bar stool. I never saw him act uncomfortable at my bar.

"You okay?"

"Thinking. Seattle is like most big cities. It has a sizable werewolf pack, but there's other players in most cities that we didn't have in Dallas. Down South, we don't have much of a vampire population. Don't ask me why, but none ever tried to set up in my cities. Some cities have a gateway, a portal, to the fae realms. Seattle is one of them, which means there's a fae population. It's never very big since they don't often settle in this realm, but they manage their gates from both sides."

"Yeah, I know about the fae," I said softly. "So, you're saying there's a lot here, and possibly anything could be part of this?"

"I'm saying we have to keep our minds open," he replied, sipping his beer. "The likelihood something else is involved is slim, but it's a possibility."

"So, we have the Big Four in Washington. Werewolves, werecats, fae, and vampires. Anything else?"

"Possibly a coven of witches or warlocks. Outside of that, I have no idea," he admitted. "The smaller species don't announce their presence anywhere, kind of like werecats, though you are considered a big threat, and they're just considered…a possibility. An Alpha wolf should know all the players in his city, but some come in, passing through or working, and leave without us ever knowing."

"That's not helpful," I groaned. I took a long swallow of my whiskey, relishing the burn for a moment. It wasn't nearly enough alcohol to soothe my nerves, but it was a start. It tasted like home, at least. "We're in for a long day tomorrow."

"Yeah, it's going to be a long drive. I texted Geoffrey and asked him to have a vehicle ready for us by seven. We should be there by nine if we get out of here by then. Faster, if we don't hit too much traffic and don't need to make more than one stop."

"Fuck." I leaned over and put my head on the table. "Why couldn't Jabari call in like he was supposed to?"

"You're fine with going toe-to-toe with an Alpha werewolf, but a two-or-so-hour drive is what kills you?" He was chuckling again.

"Yup, but it's not because it's a long drive," I retorted. "It's a long drive with you. Another one." We had just done a long drive that morning to the airport.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He was laughing now, that full thing that was probably making his chest and shoulders shake. He sobered, though, faster than I expected. "We have two confirmed dead werecats, one missing werecat, and four missing, probably dead, werewolves. We can suffer a long drive together."

"Yeah…" I leaned back again, frowning at my drink. "I was just messing with you. Trying to take your advice."

"We could leave earlier…" he suggested, pushing his empty glass away. "Get there by dawn. We'd have to get some shut eye now, though."

"And you would need to ask Geoffrey to bring us that vehicle sooner," I pointed out. "Do it. I want to be there at dawn if that's okay."

"Of course." He pulled out his phone and started texting.

I slid out of my seat, finished the whiskey, and went to the bar to order another one. The bartender didn't say much when I gave him my order and told him to put it on my room's tab. I got Heath a second beer because I was feeling nice, though it might have been my own natural bartender tendencies. People didn't sit in a bar without a drink unless something was wrong. A cellphone rang, and I turned to see Heath frowning. The drinks were slid in front of me, and I grabbed them quickly. I gave Heath his beer as he found himself on the phone, talking to someone. I listened in, tilted my head slightly to try to catch the voice on the other end.

"You're running around with a werecat, Heath. Geoffrey let us know. And yes, I know it's the werecat that helped you out last year, but it doesn't—"

"Harrison, it's Jacky, and she's up here trying to—"

"Oh, yes. Jacqueline, daughter of Hasan," the other wolf snapped. I recognized his voice now, thanks to Heath saying his name. "Wish we had known that last August, damn it. He should have told everyone during the Tribunal she was his actual daughter. How long have you known?"

"Less than twenty-four hours," Heath answered softly. "She's here, trying to find out what happened. This is not a big deal. I owed her, Harrison. I owed her more than she asked me for. She wanted an introduction to Geoffrey, and I got that for her. Tomorrow, she and I are heading out to find more about his missing wolves and her dead werecats. Considering Geoffrey told you who she is, he must have told you what was going on."

"Yes, but none of that is the problem. You are helping a werecat—"

"You've been trying to convince your local werecat for months to work with you and failing," Heath snapped, a growl ending it. "Maybe if you didn't give out several demands and tried to find something they need or want, you might have better success. Don't say I'm betraying our species for succeeding where you're all failing. You're pissing the cats off because you're bullheaded."

"So, what do we do? The Tribunal changed the Laws. A minor but significant change. We have to make sure these cats can't carve paths of destruction through our packs if we're at war without another pack and they get pulled into it."

"We won't," I snapped. Heath narrowed his eyes on me. "Oh, you knew I could hear," I told him, shaking my head. "Harrison, we won't attack you without cause. The only reason the Law was changed was to protect me because I did the right thing."

"You got involved," Harrison growled. "And fuck you, Heath."

"We were at the hotel bar together," Heath explained mildly, but his eyes were still narrowed on me.

"To protect Carey, a human innocent. None of you understand nuance." I shook my head, frustrated. "Don't use werecats as your family's personal bodyguards, and they won't need to kill anyone in their way of protecting someone. How about that? That solves all the problems you think you're having right there."

"She has a point," Heath said diplomatically. "Now, I'm not here to pick the werecat side. I'm here because a werecat needed my help. My favor to her is done. Now we're both trying to find out what caused all the deaths out here. I'm going to help Geoffrey with his four missing wolves while Jacky looks into what killed the two local werecats and finds her brother."

"Jabari the General," Harrison spat. "Geoffrey is a damn idiot sometimes. He should have gotten eyes on the cat or scheduled a fucking meeting."

"You can yell at him for that. You're not going to give me a hard time on this, old friend. I don't have a pack, and I don't work with or for any of you anymore. I'm my own man. If you need anything, you know how to reach me." Heath hung up, growling. "Geoffrey called the North American Werewolf Council, thinking they might like to know who you really are and how I'm helping you. He just so happened to call as I was texting Geoffrey about the car."

"They can shove it," I snapped. "They're reactionary assholes who are passing off their own traits onto the werecats near them. We're not going to jump up tomorrow and start a war because we feel threatened. Them, however…I could see them starting a war based solely on their own imagined slights."

"Like I said a couple of weeks ago, Jacky…a certain supernatural reminded us we aren't the most powerful or dangerous kids on the playground. We'd forgotten."

I grumbled and drank my whiskey. "At least you don't feel that way."

"Most of the Alphas don't, but you left quite the impression on Harrison just by telling him you were going to break the Law." Heath snorted. "They don't realize how different you are from the rest of your kind."

"They better figure it out quick," I said before tipping my head back and swallowing the last of my whiskey. "Now, I'm off to get some shut eye."

"I'll come up later. I want to make sure Geoffrey gets the car here."

"All right." I slid off my stool and walked away, exhausted. "Good luck with the wolves."

"Good luck with the cats," he replied. I left the bar yawning. It was such a long damn day, and tomorrow didn't seem like it was going to be much better. I made it to my room, locked the door between my room and Heath's, then threw all my clothing on the floor.

A shower. I need a shower.

Turning on the water, making sure it was hot, I stepped in, sighing happily as it rolled over my shoulders. I hadn't expected what I found today. No one had expected this to be much bigger than two dead werecats, which was serious, but the idea it could be worse wasn't something anyone had really considered.

And now, my wolf is helping the other wolves. I can trust Heath, I know I can, but I don't think anyone else is going to. Hasan sure doesn't want to. Jabari is going to flip when he finds out I brought him. And my family has good reason not to trust wolves.

I would speak up for Heath for as long as he proved worth it. If he betrayed me, there would be nothing I could do to protect him from Hasan's wrath, but as long as he remained the Alpha I figured him to be, he was safe.

I scrubbed my face, thinking about him as the wolf I thought him to be. The image of him in those soft pajama pants flashed through my mind, and I hissed as shampoo dripped into my eyes, mimicking the burn I felt on my cheeks. Why did he have to look like that? Why hadn't I expected him to look like that? He was a wolf in his prime, one who would always be in his prime. He was an Alpha who knew he had to fight to keep his position, even if he had walked away from having a pack. Of course he would look like that.

It was a far cry from the beer bellies I saw every day at the bar. Heath knew how to dress to hide the real extent of his physique yet still look in shape. I hadn't looked past the suits or the simple button-ups and jeans. I should have. Maybe it wouldn't have been such a shocker to finally see those fucking things he probably thought were normal abs.

That man has children! Adult children, at that! He's not supposed to look like that!

Then again, Hasan has even more children, and he's an ancient male model.

I nearly gagged at considering Hasan gorgeous, but it was the truth. Both men were uniquely beautiful. Hasan had some ancient quality to him like he was from a different time. Someone who didn't have a proper vocabulary would call him exotic, but I spent enough time with him to realize he was some blend of ancient African and Middle Eastern, like he walked out of Babylon or Sumer one day as the de facto ruler of the werecats. Heath, on the other hand, was an almost typical American dreamboat, just a couple of centuries older. His face pointed to a purely European ancestry with the classical masculine jawline. The blue eyes, the black hair. It was all so typically gorgeous.

I wondered for a moment if supernaturals chose their children based on their looks sometimes. I looked down at myself—light tan, small curves, and scars, though I hadn't had those when I was Changed, boring brown hair, and hazel eyes—nothing extraordinary.

No, Hasan wasn't aiming for looks when he Changed me.

I finished washing up, then stepped out in front of the large mirror and sink, washing and lotioning my face before looking at myself. I had deep bags under my eyes, thanks to the full moon and not properly resting after.

No, definitely not for my looks.

I crashed that night in bed, my hair still wet and a weird thought continuing to pester me. Maybe it was because it was the only distraction I had from the shit going on around me.

Heath was fucking hot.