4. Ranger

FOUR

RANGER

I picked up the scent of my mate's slick. It lingered after he rushed out with his friend. Or I hoped he was a friend. If he was anything else I'd?—

Go after him . My wolf was incensed and ready to take his fur if I didn't get my butt in gear.

That had me thinking of butts, and it seemed as though I were floating while imagining my mate's ass. And his slick. He'd be naked, and there'd be so much slick. I closed my eyes and imagined the earthy aroma, the slippery wetness, while coating my fingers in it and trailing it over my lips.

My mate had sent me tumbling head over heels in love and blabbering like a baby just learning to talk. A human who goofed up and entered our building, snatched the heart out of my chest, and refused to give it back. Sneaky little fucker!

Dad shook me, whispering that one of the Nightfall shifters said my mate was involved with The Obsidian Circle.

Shit. That was the worst possible outcome. But as a human, he wasn't "of" the pack. Some packs employed humans, mainly in low-level positions, but Dane was a nasty, self-centered fuckface who used fear and intimidation to control his pack. We had minimal dealings with them until now, and with the information I'd given Flint on Saturday, any relationship would be severed.

There was only one reason why Dane would have employed a human. Shifters could hear every conversation, pick up on every growl, and detect every nuance, so a human would be less of a threat.

Once again, my inner turmoil spiraled, revealing no one outside the family could be trusted. Not only was my mate human—and as I had a human brother-in-law, I wasn't freaked out by that—but he was working for a despicable guy. Had Dane done him a "favor" and him working for the Obsidian boss was paying off the debt? Damn!

Mate or not, how could I live my life with a shady little shit who sold his soul to Dane? But I paused, considering how I'd react if he'd done the same for us. Hmmm, I'd have had no problem.

You have to mate! My wolf was adamant.

Not yet. There's no rule saying I have to . I refused to consider the consequences of not mating the human with the rounded butt and dazzling green eyes. And those plump kissable lips. He was a cute package, and he needed to be wrapped in a bow and?—

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of his image. Instead, I had to investigate why he was in our headquarters and what he was doing working with a loathsome group of shifters who'd slit their father's throat for a cash bonus.

Lust had riddled my mind and body, and I hadn't been able to take my eyes off my mate, my beast ready to pounce if anyone took an interest in him.

And then he left, scooting out with his friend, and smashing the elevator button and grumbling about it taking so long.

I did what any shifter would do who'd met his mate but hadn't marked him; I raced after him, taking the stairs three at a time, and reached the entrance of our building with the two humans.

"Leaving so soon?" I got in front of them, and my mate reared away.

"What does it look like?" he snapped. He held himself up, only reaching my shoulder, his spine ramrod straight.

"I'd like to stay," the other guy added.

"No, you wouldn't, Josh." My mate's eyes clouded with confusion. "Not Josh or Joshua. Nope. Joshie, Josiah, Joseph."

Color blanched from his cheeks, and I noted his friend's slack-jawed expression. My mate was… scared? Of what? Not me. It couldn't be me.

"His name isn't really Josh." He fumbled for the door.

"Son, you're needed upstairs." Dad had followed me, along with Ben.

I had to go with my mate, but he was shuffling away, putting his body in front of Not Josh. I couldn't mark him here, so I opened the door and the pair scuttled out.

"Follow them," I told Ben, "and tell me where the cute one goes."

He raised a brow. "The cute one, boss?"

"The mouthy guy, the shorter one."

I instructed Ben to stay on his tail and give me hourly updates. My mate couldn't get away. Humans were frail creatures, and despite him being involved with Dane in some capacity, they were unused to the subterfuge and trickery needed to survive in the mafia shifter world.

Taking one last look at my mate, I followed Dad toward the elevator.

The speed-dating event droned on. The damned buzzer had me wanting to smash it against a wall. Meeting my mate had me acting giddy, like those guys on the rom-coms Tony and my dad loved.

But there was plenty of laughter from the participants and even one spontaneous mating between a La Luna Noir shifter and a Nightfall alpha. If my mind wasn't filled with thoughts of my mate, I might have joined in the fun and congratulated the pair.

I beckoned Hawk, but it turned out he didn't know much, other than he'd witnessed my mate dropping off and picking up Dane at The Obsidian Circle's headquarters.

"Might have heard his name once but can't recall. Mick or Michael… something starting with M."

When the speed dating ended, I asked Ben for an update, and he texted my mate's address. I was out the door, without saying goodbye to Dad. Punching his street address into the GPS, I accelerated down the road, the sports car responding to my eagerness to reach my destination.

While my mate lived in the city, it was a world away from my place.

The apartment block belonged to another era. Its brick facade was covered in decades of pollution from cars and nearby factories. Bird droppings and peeling paint combined with vines weaving between the cracked mortar gave the impression the building was crying.

A stale odor of overcooked cabbage greeted me when I wound down the window and studied the chipped concrete on the stoop.

But despite the air of decay, the neighborhood was alive even at this hour. The rain had stopped and people chatted to their neighbors, couples strolled along the sidewalk, and a dog on a leash peed against one of the trees lining the street.

I could ring the buzzer for every apartment until I discovered which one was his.

But what would I say if I found him? " Hi, remember me? I was the tongue-tied guy from this evening, and by the way, I'm your mate ."

My beast didn't see a problem with that, saying we could be mated and go on with our lives. He hadn't been around many humans since our college days and had forgotten their rituals.

My belly grumbled. I hadn't eaten dinner and had forgone the snacks at headquarters, my mind only on my mate. I ordered takeout, the delivery guy on a motorbike giving me an odd look when he pulled up to my flashy car. I tipped him well because it was raining again and he was drenched, and he rewarded me with a smile.

As the evening wore on, one by one, the apartments went dark, no longer lighting up the grimy windows. I longed to roam through the building, tracing my mate's scent, and when I found his apartment, I'd hug the door. But that would be more creepy than stalking him by sitting outside his building all night.

When dawn broke, my foul breath reeked of garlic and chili, and I rummaged in the glove compartment for gum and ordered coffee and a bagel. On impulse I got an extra drink because this was a two-coffee day.

I'd finished eating and was sipping the hot latte when my mate emerged from the building. He glanced around, but my super-quick shifter reflexes ensured I slid down on the seat before he looked toward my vehicle.

It was drizzling, and his umbrella was broken and provided little protection from the rain. He took off in a car with rusted paint and a dent on the driver's side, and I followed. But the guy drove an odd route, turning one way, backtracking, and seemingly wandering aimlessly through the city. I recognized the maneuver because it was what I'd done countless times when on a job and often still did; he was making sure no one was following him.

Perhaps he was smarter than I thought.

The phone rang, and I put it on speaker. It was Nate, our pack member from the newspaper who I'd asked to look into the articles they're published about us being scumbags.

"I did some digging and came up with something unexpected."

"Like what?" I asked, wishing he'd get to the point.

"Seems there's an investigative reporter working undercover with The Obsidian Circle. It's very hush-hush." He'd only discovered it because of his shifter hearing when the big boss whispered into his phone in the stairwell.

My heart sped up, and I broke out in a sweat, not wanting to discover who it was.

"You want a name?"

No, I wanted to pretend this phone call never happened, that I could rewind time and not ask Nate to look into the slanderous articles.

"Okay." Tempted to end the call, I snatched the device out of the hands-free holder and gripped it, the metal cold against my palm while my shifter strength was close to crushing it.

"Matt Leroy."

Hawk hadn't remembered the guy's name for certain last night. "Give me a description?"

He did one better; he sent a pic.

I sat in the car, wondering what I'd done to the universe as I stared at the photo of my mate.