Chapter 16

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

JACK

Cal rolled onto his side and pulled the duvet up over both of us. I felt his gaze on me before he spoke. “No shit, Sherlock. I’ve known that since the moment you showed up in Seattle. It’s kind of your MO.”

I groaned. “Are you going to bust my balls for the rest of our lives?” Secretly, I was grateful it felt like nothing had changed, even though we both knew everything had. Through our freshly minted bond, I could feel the enormity of Cal’s love, and it helped me relax.

“Absolutely.”

“Wonderful. As long as you know that goes both ways.”

Cal found my hand and twined our fingers together. “I do. And for the record, it’s one of my favorite things about us.”

“Mine too.” I let out a long sigh and focused on ripping the Band-Aid off. “My dad died on a job.”

I’d averted my eyes, looking down at the duvet, but I could feel Cal staring at me.

“What?”

“My dad was an art thief. Worked with your grandmother’s crew. Allegedly, it was an accident, but nobody knows exactly what happened. Or rather, if they know, they haven’t told me. He was young, and on Reuben’s recommendation, Juno brought him onto her team. They were making a play for The Evolution of Ma n, and something went wrong. He didn’t come home. My mom was pregnant with me at the time, so I never met him. Reuben wasn’t on that job, working a solo gig with a big payday. He’s carried the guilt for thirty-seven years, thinking he could have saved my dad if he’d been there. Regardless, Reuben thinks there might be a connection between whatever is going on with the painting now and whatever happened the night my dad died.” The words tumbled from my lips, and I wasn’t sure if what I’d said even made sense.

Cal was quiet for a minute, and I squeezed his fingers.

“How could the two things be connected?”

“I don’t know. I’m supposed to be looking for any information that might lead to answers regarding the current situation and how my dad died. The common denominator is the painting.”

“Did anyone ask my grandmother?”

“I assume because Juno and Reuben are still close enough to throw you and me together, he doesn’t really think she had anything to do with it. But there is a possibility that whatever happened back then set whatever this is in motion, which could mean she’s involved, even if it’s by proxy.”

Cal nodded, and I knew he’d be sharing what I’d just divulged with Julius and Felix the first chance he got. I could almost feel him wanting to track down his phone. “It’s possible. Good thing she’s in the middle of the ocean for the whole month.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think all this shit with the painting is about trying to draw her out?” Cal’s face had lost a shade of color, and I felt his worry through our bond.

“Maybe. Someone could be looking to tie up a loose end.”

“Do you think it’s Mazal?”

I considered the question. “Honestly, no. But I think we’d better get some sleep so we can go to the exhibition opening later today and find out for sure.”

“Damn. I was hoping we could get out of that.”

I shook my head. “No chance.”

“This is going to sound stupid, but what are we supposed to wear to an art exhibition? I’m guessing tac pants are out.”

Cal’s question broke the tension that my confession had created, and I laughed. “Don’t worry. Reuben’s got us covered.” I rolled off the bed and flicked on the lamp on the bedside table before walking across the room to an antique armoire.

“I feel like he’s basically bought me a new wardrobe at this point.”

“It’s been a couple of shirts and sweaters and now a suit.” Pulling open the armoire door, I gestured at the two suits hanging side by side.

“What if it doesn’t fit?”

“It will fit. Reuben’s superpower is being able to size someone up.”

“I hate wearing a suit.”

I faked surprise with a hand over my heart. “Shocking.” Then I looked at where Cal, my mate, was sitting up against the headboard, his sexy-as-fuck chest on full display, and added, “Besides, you’re going to look hot as hell.”

Even in the low light of the room, I saw his cheeks tint. “Get over here.”

I didn’t hesitate, and the second I was close enough, Cal grabbed me and pulled me back down to the bed.

Needless to say, we didn’t get any more sleep.

“Are you sure this looks okay? I’ve never worn a vest before.” Cal fussed with the edges of his waistcoat and rolled his shoulders, and sensing his nerves through our bond, I grabbed his hand, pulling us both to a stop.

“You look hot as fuck.” Reuben had picked a dove-gray vest and matching slim-fit pants that clung to his strong thighs for Cal, along with a crisp white shirt and oxblood wingtips. He’d also picked a blue paisley-patterned tie, but Cal refused to wear it, opting to leave his shirt open at the neck so his saddle patch and my claiming bite were on full display. He’d styled his hair so it was swept up and back from his face, and his short beard was neatly trimmed. I’d seen Cal in various states of dress and undress, but I had to admit, seeing him in a suit made me hard. He wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Paris runway, the bad-boy model everyone wanted to see.

Cal looked me over from head to foot. “No, I’m pretty sure that’s you.” For me, Reuben had chosen a classic navy blue suit, a pale blue shirt, caramel brogues, and a purple patterned tie. Like Cal, I’d decided against neckwear. I wanted everyone to see my bite too. We were still using our fake-married cover, even though that was a little further from the truth of our relationship now, and our matching gold rings completed our ensembles. I had to admit, we cleaned up well.

I pecked a kiss to his lips, then lifted his hand and kissed right over the gold band. Cal’s apprehension had faded by a degree, so I kept his fingers intertwined with mine. Since we’d claimed each other, it had been hard to stop touching him, and I’d avoided it as much as I could. Holding his hand now helped me relax and focus on what we were about to do.

“Do you want to go over the plan again?”

Cal shook his head. “I think I’ve got it. I wish there was a way to get this close to him under the cover of night. It feels weird approaching him in public in the middle of the day.”

I agreed, but this was our only option. “Stick to the perimeter. See what people are saying about him, and when we get an opportunity, we’ll approach him.”

“I know.”

We checked in with the event planner—Reuben had made sure our names were on the attendee list—and received small name tags with the museum’s logo that we were required to wear.

“I don’t get modern art.” Cal had stopped just past check-in and was looking up at three massive bronze babies with barcode stamps where their faces should be.

“It’s a David ?erny.”

“I think you must have me confused with my twin. I have no idea what that means.”

“?erny is a famous Czech artist. These babies were up on a television tower for a while. Now they are displayed all over.”

“But why don’t they have faces? I’m sure Quin would say it’s representative of society’s dehumanization of people or something equally depressing.”

“I think that’s exactly what it’s supposed to mean. Maybe you’re not as bad at the art thing as you think.”

Cal shrugged. “Probably just Quin’s constant barrage of useless information finally sinking in enough for me to regurgitate it.” Cal’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he slid it out. “Speak of the devil.”

“Quin?”

“Yeah. He’s been blowing me up all morning. I think he knows we’re mated.”

“You haven’t told him?”

“When exactly would I have had time?” Cal raised an eyebrow, and I remembered exactly what we’d been doing since we left the train yard last night. I’d spent pretty much every minute of the intervening hours buried balls-deep inside him, so it was easy to see his point.

“Okay, fair. Do you want to call him now?”

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt. I wanted to have Felix and Julius look into your dad too. If that’s okay with you?”

“Are you really asking me for permission?”

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

“No.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him across the small garden toward the fence where the crowd was thin. “It means a lot to me that you asked.”

“Jack, I?—”

I knew what he was going to say, and it wasn’t fair. “Don’t. I get it. I made it hard for you to like me. I’m sorry. I thought it would make dealing with my feelings for you easier for me, but it didn’t. The fact that you trust me at all says more about you than it does about me.”

Cal turned his hand in mine and tugged me close. “We weren’t ready to face what we are to each other then. It’s a shitty thing to say, but I’m glad you were held at gunpoint.” I glared at him, and Cal laughed. “Seriously. It was probably the only thing that could have forced me to get my head out of my ass.”

My hand found his neck, my thumb tracing along the claiming bite I’d left on his skin, and Cal shuddered. Before I could lean in and take the kiss I wanted, a throat cleared behind us. I dropped Cal’s hand and turned, shielding my mate with my body as he crossed his arms.

The unmistakable scent of wolf clung to the shifter who’d interrupted our conversation. He was tall and leanly muscled with broad shoulders that were disproportionate to his thinner lower half. His hair was several shades of brown, and he wore dark sunglasses that perched on his wolfish nose and kept me from seeing his eyes.

“Mr. Harper?”

“Yes. Can I help you?”

The wolf’s expression remained impassive. “Mr. Mazal would like to see you.”

Fuck.

“Who?” Hopefully, playing dumb would buy me a minute to think of a new plan.

“Vlk Mazal. He told me to find you and bring you to him. Apparently, you have a mutual friend.”

“Well, I’m not sure who that could be.” I reached for Cal’s hand and pulled him next to me. “My mate and I are just here to enjoy Prague on our honeymoon.”

The wolf’s eyes raked over Cal and me, his gaze landing first on the matching bite marks on our necks, then on the gold bands on our fingers. He appeared unimpressed. “Please follow me.”

The wolf started walking toward the riverfront path where the food and drinks for the exhibition opening were laid out, glancing over his shoulder to make sure we were following.

“What’s this about?” Cal asked, leaning in close.

“No clue.”

Cal took my hand and moved it to the small of his back. To anyone else, it would look like a run-of-the-mill display of affection, but I felt the holster and his gun under the fabric of his vest.

“Seriously?”

“I’m not taking any chances.”

My only response was a nod. We followed the wolf shifter to the end of the rows of tables that had been set up along the river to where Vlk Mazal was holding court. Several men and women were clustered around him, laughing at something he’d just said. The moment he spotted us, though, his expression turned serious, and he stood, looking over the heads of his admirers.

“My apologies. I’ve just spotted someone I must talk to.” The group easily took the hint and dispersed, and Mazal waved us over to his table before resuming his seat. He gestured at the recently vacated chairs in front of us. “Please sit.”

The only people who hadn’t left Mazal’s side were two other wolf shifters. They both looked like the wolf that had come to get us, but one had his arm in a sling, bruising around his eyes and nose peeking out from beyond the edges of his sunglasses.

He’d been the wolf who’d held me at gunpoint last night, the one Cal had shot in the shoulder.

I felt Cal stiffen next to me the moment he noticed.

Mazal seemed content to wait us out, and I finally gave in, pulling out the chair and lowering myself into it. Cal glanced at me, and I nodded slightly, encouraging him to do the same. I hoped my look said stick to the cover .

“Mr. Harper, I do not think we have met. I am Vlk Mazal.”

I held out my hand. “Jack Harper. And this is my mate, Calvin Smith.”

Cal shook Mazal’s hand, and it was impossible not to notice the way the bodyguard wearing the sling studied Cal.

“What brings you to Prague, Mr. Harper?” Mazal sat back in his chair, his elbows resting on the arms, his fingers steepled as he assessed me.

I reached for Cal’s hand, giving his fingers a tight squeeze. “We’re on our honeymoon.”

Mazal smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that all?”

“Yes. We’ve been touring Europe. First Venice and now Prague.”

“Interesting.” He let the word hang, and I squeezed Cal’s hand again when he shifted slightly under Mazal’s perusal. He went stock-still when Mazal leaned forward and placed his folded hands on the table. “Mr. Harper, I consider it my personal duty to see to the continued cultural prominence of my city. As such, I pay close attention to who is donating to the city’s museums, businesses, and events, and when I see a name that I do not recognize, my first instinct is to find out more about such a person. But, Mr. Harper, there was nothing to discover about you. So tell me, and be honest this time, what are you doing in Prague?”

The wolf in the sling’s mouth tightened, and he leaned in to whisper something to Mazal, whose attention immediately swung to Cal.

“Or perhaps I am asking the wrong person. Mr. Smith, what is it you are doing in Prague?”

Cal’s hand moved behind his back, but he didn’t make a move to draw his gun.

“What reason do you have to believe we are here for anything other than our honeymoon?”

It was a good question. Cal had played that well.

“I own several rail yards in Czechia, Mr. Smith, and it seems someone, someone who my son tells me bears an uncanny resemblance to you, broke into one of those yards last night. I want to know why.”

Cal lifted a shoulder nonchalantly. “What if I’m in the market for someone discreet to move certain items of value for me?”

Mazal sat back, his interest piqued. “What kind of items? What level of value?”

I wouldn’t have expected it to be true, but Cal was actually playing this role perfectly. He kept surprising me.

Cal mirrored Mazal’s posture, sitting back in his chair. “Art. Priceless.”

Mazal laughed. “Ha. Art is not where the money is, Mr. Smith. I used to be an art thief myself.” His eyes narrowed. “But I know you already knew that, yes? Since it is Reuben Machas who made the donation to get your name on the list for this event.” Mazal stroked his fingers down his graying goatee. “I left the art game years ago and have since found much more lucrative avenues for doing business. Since neither you, Mr. Hunter, nor your mate, Mr. Grayson, is here in an official capacity, I assume I will not be receiving additional unwanted visitors intent on invading my personal business.”

He’d made us. There was no use sticking to the cover now. “If you know who we are, you know why we’re here, and it has nothing to do with your current business.”

“You are looking for The Evolution of Man .”

I nodded. “We are.”

“You will not find it here. If I had it, which I do not and have not, I would never have let it stay in Prague. That would only have invited thieves to our door, and as I have said, I have no further interest in art other than as a patron.” He waved at the white building with the terra-cotta-tiled roof behind us.

“But you’ve heard the rumors that it is in play?”

Mazal scoffed. “Surely you know there are always rumors, but I will admit there is more substance to these than there has been in the recent past. I will tell you this, only because Reuben was once an ally to me, if he is looking for the painting, his most promising lead is in Amsterdam. Stefan Dasselaar is as ruthless as I am, maybe even more so, and he never left the game even after his brother, Hendrik, died. He holds elite galas where he invites the criminally wealthy from around the world to bid on pieces he has acquired. Some even legally. If the painting is in play, it will land on his doorstep one way or another.”

“Reuben already gave us his name. If you didn’t have the painting, we were heading to Amsterdam.”

Mazal nodded. “Reuben is very smart, even if you two are not.” Next to me, Cal bristled. “I advise you to use more caution. Unlike me, Dasselaar will not pause for friendly conversation before putting a bullet between your eyes. He was never a gentleman thief, always working for the highest bidder, and the friends he keeps are a veritable who’s who of the criminal underworld. He is dangerous. You would do well to remember that.”

“And you’re sure you aren’t running stolen art for him?” Cal’s question cut right to the heart of why we were there, no more games.

“Despite what you might think given the shipment you ran across last night, I am not interested in criminal pursuits.” He shrugged a shoulder, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a sardonic smile. “Well, no more than how my current business is presently classified. I am interested in giving everyone a fair shot at defending their homes and their freedoms, and I find myself in the unique position to do so without having to extort refugees or rebels. I know something of your family, Mr. Hunter. Were they not similarly engaged?”

Cal nodded. “You could loosely make that comparison.”

“Then you understand it is not about the guns but what they represent. I cannot say I never got my hands dirty playing in the same sandbox with Dasselaar, but the art world no longer serves me, so I no longer serve it, if you take my meaning.”

We both nodded.

Mazal stood. “I have nothing more to say on this topic. I’m giving you six hours to get out of Prague. If I find you are still here after that time, I will take it as an act of ill will, and I will send members of my team to rectify the problem. Are we clear?”

I took Mazal’s offered hand and shook it. “Crystal. I know you have your own defenses and security, but Reuben wanted me to offer you a place to stay if someone who is looking for more than information comes to Prague.”

Mazal refocused on me after shaking Cal’s hand. “I appreciate his concern, but I am well protected here.”

“Understood.”

We’d taken a step away, when Cal looked over his shoulder and addressed Mazal. “Thank you for the information.” He turned his attention to Mazal’s injured son. “Sorry about your shoulder.”

He got a middle-fingered salute in return, and we left with Mazal’s laughter echoing behind us.

When we’d cleared the front of the museum and had handed the valet our ticket, I grabbed Cal’s hand. “Let’s get the hell out of Prague.”