Chapter 6

Blake

Blake ran his hand through his hair. "By the love of the Goddess. Who the fuck is doing this?"

"We have our suspicions, but we don't have enough solid evidence," Lincoln said.

Blake pointed to the pictures on the desk. "Isn't that evidence enough?"

"You'd like to think so, but let me show you the public image." Lincoln pulled out more photos that initially appeared to be duplicated.

Blake picked up one picture. It showed a rotund hunter standing over a lion, not a shifter, as in the first picture. "Wait. Which picture is the truth?"

Lincoln collected the photos, tapped the stack on the desk, and put them back in the folder. "We believe the second set of photos are deep fakes."

"You've got to be kidding me," Blake said.

"A fairy consultant destroyed the glamor used to create the second set of photos. The magic was old and powerful." Lincoln sat back in the chair.

"What are you doing about this?" Blake asked Tristan.

Tristan leaned back in his chair. "Right now, we've supported Lincoln's pack with whatever resources they didn't already have." The chair rocked forward, and he rested his arms on the desk. "Blake, I want Nikki to join them."

"No," Blake said.

Tristan clenched his jaw. "You do remember that she works for me?"

"She's on my team," Blake said.

"Your team works for me, too," Tristan said.

Blake slowly stood from his chair and leaned on the desk. His dragon fumed inside his head. He called forth just enough power to exert his dominance. Tristan was the oldest son, but they knew Blake was the stronger dragon.

"What are you trying to say?" he said.

"I'm not trying to say anything. I am saying it. Your team is part of Operation Excalibur, and I am the director of Operation Excalibur. Therefore, your team, including the leader, which is you, is my team."

A vein on Tristan's forehead pulsed, and Blake felt Tristan's power grow.

"Um, hey guys, I'm not sure this is the best place for this right now." Lincoln pointed to an interior window overlooking a sea of cubicles where several people stood and watched them.

Tristan blew out an exasperated breath and pushed a button under his desk. The windows were frosted over.

"Hey, that's a nice trick. I need to get that for my office," Lincoln said. "Now, if you two will kindly get over whatever this power play is, let me explain what we're looking for."

Blake let out a low growl before slowly sitting back in the chair. Tristan sat down, too.

"Great," Lincoln said. "Tristan told me about Agent Niki Carter. She's an alicorn. We need her skills as a tracker. We believe the hunting is happening on private land. We found a heavily spelled fifty-acre plot of land, but we've been unable to get past the wards. That's why we need an alicorn."

"Find another one," Blake said.

"Right now, she's the only one we've got," Tristan said.

"No. She's guarding my mate's child. Find another one." Blake slammed a fist onto the desk. "Find another one."

"You and I both know she might be the last alicorn. Her tracking skills are perfect for this assignment. And she can use her shifting magic without leaving an energy trace—no other shifter can do that." Tristan got out of his chair and pulled up another chair beside his brother. "I also want you to go."

Blake sprung out of his chair, wrapped a hand around Tristan's neck, and pushed him against a wall. "You do not tell me what to do."

Lincoln got out of his chair and readied himself for a fight. Blake could sense Lincoln's wolf reacting to a possibly dangerous situation.

Tristan held up his hands in surrender. "I will not fight you, Blake. Not here."

"Why would you even consider asking me to leave Angela?"

"Because of the reaction I just got. You are too close to think rationally."

Blake lessened his grip. "She is my mate."

"No, she's not. You two have not mated. She has a job, and from what I've seen, you are getting in the way of her doing it."

Blake clenched his jaw and growled. "We will mate when she is ready."

"And how do you think that is going to go over? The President has a dragon mate. The American people will love that."

"No one can take care of her the way I can. I trusted other people before, and they failed, or have you forgotten that?" Blake stepped back.

Tristan twisted his neck side to side. "Damn, I forget how fast you are."

Blake turned to glare at Lincoln, who was still ready to fight if needed.

Tristan looked over Blake's shoulder and said, "This was nothing. You should see how mad he gets when someone tries to steal his cookies."

Tristan chuckled at his joke. Blake did not.

Tristan returned to his chair behind the desk. "We are in a very precarious moment. The American people are suspicious of everything. We have not gone public. Who knows what would happen if we did? The President is a symbol of great leadership for this country. Many people do not like her, but they will look to whoever serves in that role in times of crisis." He nodded to Lincoln. "Tell him the other thing you told me."

Lincoln finally sat in his chair. "Random violence against supernaturals is increasing faster than it ever has. We get dozens of reports every day of innocent shifters, witches, and even vampires being targeted by vigilantes." He pulled out his phone, opened an app, and passed it to Blake. "Take a look at this."

Blake took it and sat in the other chair. "What am I looking at?"

"This is a digital community of people claiming to be patriots who have sworn to rid the world of all supernatural beings," Lincoln said.

Blake looked from the phone to Tristan. "Did you know about this?"

"There have always been groups like this. This time, though, it's different," Tristan said.

"How so?" Blake said.

Neither Lincoln nor Tristan said anything for several moments.

Blake scrolled through the messages, appalled at what he was seeing. He handed the phone back to Lincoln. "What aren't you telling me?"

"We believe The Tribe is behind all of this," Lincoln said. "Our intel identified your friend, Heather, as Keyser's most prominent financial backer. We suspect that she is a Tribe witch. She is connected to nanotech and Arkansas. We believe they are rallying humans against supernaturals."

Blake ran a hand through his hair. Heather couldn't be a witch. He would have felt it. Indeed, there was no way she could have hidden something like that from him. "I'm not sure I understand what you're saying. When I met her, she had trouble walking and chewing gum at the same time. She was a free spirit, a hippie, not a Tribe witch."

"That's one of the reasons I want you to help Lincoln on this," Tristan said. "I also think it would be a good idea for all of us if you distanced yourself from Angela. People are paying too much attention to a possible relationship between you."

"Did she tell you this?" Blake asked.

"No, but the American people have lost a lot of confidence in her ability to do her job, be a mother, and be a girlfriend." Tristan leaned back in his chair. "The more attention you get, the more questions people will ask. That will only cause confusion."

Blake got out of the chair and walked to a window overlooking the front lawn, turning his back to his brother. He knew Tristan was right. Now was not the time for humans to learn that supernaturals existed. But how could he trust anyone else to take care of Angela? In his heart, he knew that had he stayed with Lorelei, he could have saved her. If he left Angela and something happened, he wouldn't survive another loss.

He turned and walked out of the office without saying a word.

He sat at Angela's dining table, waiting for her. After he left Tristan's office, Penny found him and confirmed their dinner tonight. Going out in public was not his idea of a good time. She had been so excited about going to a restaurant that he didn't have the heart to turn her down. He wanted a quiet dinner at home with no interruptions.

The idea of leaving her under someone else's care was never something he contemplated before. However, after observing how difficult it had become for anyone to take Angela seriously, he had to admit the idea had merit. She had a brilliant political mind and was a natural at talking to people and convincing them her way was the best. Yet, it didn't matter how many people she helped. The press was always more interested in her dating life. Hell, it was more than that. They would not be happy until they found out if she and Blake were having sex. He never understood why humans were so keyed up about sex.

Maybe it would be best if he wasn't in the picture for a while.

The door opened, and Angela walked in, reading a report. She looked tired. A good night's sleep was a luxury she didn't have these days.

"Hey," he said.

She glanced up from reading and smiled. It wasn't the fake smile she reserved for the public. This smile was sincere and full of love. She saved it for him.

"Hi. I'm so glad to see you." Angela walked to the table, wrapped her arms around him, and rested her head on his shoulders.

He pushed back his chair, and she sat on his lap. Her body relaxed and sank deeper against him. He rubbed her back and waited. She would talk to him when she was ready, but she needed someone to care for her right now.

It took almost ten minutes for her to lift her head and say anything.

"Sometimes, I don't like my job."

"Oh, yeah? What makes you say that right now?"

She got off his lap, sat in the chair next to him, and pushed the report over to him. He picked it up and scanned the first couple of pages. It was a more detailed account of the violence against supernaturals Tristan had mentioned to him.

"Tristan gave me this," she said.

That did not make him happy. Tristan didn't need to add one more concern for Angela to deal with.

He closed the report and pushed it to the other side of the table. "Violence against supernaturals has always been an issue."

Angela sucked in her bottom lip. "I know, but it seems to be getting worse." She pointed at the report. "According to that report, people are attacking anyone suspected of being supernatural without any evidence to prove it."

"And that has always been an issue, too. I believe many innocent people lost their lives in the Inquisition and the Witch Trials."

"It would be nice to think we've evolved since then."

"It's a nice dream."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them for several extended heartbeats.

Angela sighed. "Would you mind if we didn't go out tonight? I'm not sure we'd have any privacy, and I'm tired of peopling."

Blake reached across and held her hand. "I'm fine doing whatever you want to do."

She smiled. "Are you sure? I can change, and I will feel better once we get to the restaurant."

"If you want to go, we can go. If you want to stay here, we can stay here."

"I'm not even sure what we have to eat here. There might be some lasagna left over from the other night. That's Italian."

"How about this? Go change into something comfortable, and I will look to see what there is to eat."

She squeezed his hand. "That sounds wonderful." She got out of the chair. "Oh, I need to cancel the reservation. They probably had a lot of trouble setting it up for us."

"Send Penny a message and let her handle it. I'm sure the owners will understand. It's not like you have complete control of your schedule."

Angela's eye had a slight twitch. Had he upset her with what he said?

"Maybe I should call them myself. Penny is on a date herself."

"How about I'll take care of it?"

She kissed him on the cheek. "You are incredible. Did you know that?"

Blake arched an eyebrow. "I've been told that once or twice before."

She walked away to her room. He looked up the information for the restaurant, called them, and explained that the President had an issue come up that needed to be taken care of. They were disappointed but understood.

He went to the kitchen in search of something for them to eat. Conrad made incredible food. Blake had never eaten as well as he had over the last three months. If there was leftover lasagna, he had no doubt it would be better than what they would have eaten at the restaurant.

He found the food in the refrigerator, placed it in the oven, and found a bottle of wine for them to share. While he waited for Angela to return, he also found enough ingredients to make a salad.

When she returned, he had finished lighting the last candle and had started pouring the wine. She looked beautiful even in leggings and a sweatshirt, with her hair in a ponytail. He instantly grew hard and wanted to skip dinner.

"Oh, this is amazing and much better than going out." Angela sat in the chair Blake pulled out for her.

He bent down and kissed her neck. When her body shuttered, the thoughts of taking her on the table were almost too much to control. "We could skip dinner if you wanted," he whispered.

She mewled and, in a small voice, said, "Yes, please."

That was all he needed. He took her hand, helped her stand, and walked back to the bedroom.

"Where's Benji?" he asked.

"Nikki and a few guards are playing basketball with him in the gym. He'll be gone for at least another hour."

He set her on the bed and stood there staring down at her. She had lost weight since they'd come back. She often got so consumed with her work that she forgot to eat. He frequently made her a late-night snack, but she claimed to be too tired to eat. Despite that, she was a magnificent creature. He wanted to run his hands along her curves and feel her full breasts push against him. He longed to see the goose flesh break out on her arms as he caressed her soft skin.

She pushed herself up on her elbows. "Why are you staring at me? What are you thinking?"

He climbed on the bed next to her, resting an arm across her midsection. "I'm thinking about how lucky I am that a woman of your caliber would choose to be with a man like me."

She rolled to her side, draped a leg over his hips, and ran the side of her hand across his cheek. "You have an incredible soul. I'm the lucky one. I never thought I'd feel like this again, but I do."

His hand slipped under her sweatshirt. Her skin was warm. He pressed her tight against him and kissed her. Her mouth opened, and she welcomed him. By the love of the Goddess, he'd missed that mouth, the feel of her tongue dancing with his, and the taste of her lips. He rolled on top of her and kissed her harder. He wanted to take in every part of her at once. She wrapped her legs around him and used his body as leverage to raise her hips and push against him, matching his ferocity. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. It had been too long for them.

Angela shrank back and said, "Get off of me."

He stopped moving and rolled off, concerned that he had hurt her. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

She got off the bed and stood next to it. "There's absolutely nothing wrong."

She reached under her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. Blake watched with constrained patience as she took off her bra and leggings. When he saw she wore no underwear, he couldn't wait anymore. He quickly took off his clothes and pulled her to him.

"I want you so much, I'm afraid I might not last long." Blake looked down at her.

Angela pressed him to her and kissed him hard. His hand cupped a breast, and he rubbed her nipple. When she bucked beneath him, he squeezed the brown nub softly at first. When she moaned, he squeezed harder, feeling her warmth against his cock. He lowered his hand to between her legs and ran a finger on the inside of her folds. She was wet and ready for him, but he wanted to please her. He slid off her just enough to have better access and pushed a finger deep inside her. Her walls squeezed around him, and he pushed another finger inside. Angela gasped every time he curled his fingers.

Her breathing grew faster and shallow.

"Open your eyes," he told her.

She did as he asked, and he watched her pupils dilate as her pleasure increased. Her jaw went slack, and her face softened.

"You are never more beautiful than you are when we're like this," he said.

Angela fisted the sheet beneath her and lifted her hips higher. "Don't stop. Don't stop."

But Blake wasn't ready for her to orgasm. He wanted to make sure every stressful thought was gone from her mind. When he pulled his fingers away, she moaned and stuck out her bottom lip. He kissed her, then said, "Don't worry, Madam President, my only goal right now is to please you."

He sucked in one nipple and pinched the other. Angela cried out.

He backed off. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," she said in a low voice. "I want more. Do it more."

She reached down and took his cock in her hand, stroking the shaft. He arched his head back, and as his core tightened, and he grew harder. The harder he squeezed her, the faster her hand stroked him.

Between breaths, she said, "I want you in my mouth, now."

He was eager to comply.