Chapter 22

Robert Montgomery

Charlotte's words get me thinking on the drive to Kenton.

What if we really are being led by the nose here?

We did verify that the samples of the drug we found contained shifter blood, but it was evident from the get-go. We could smell it. Any shifter, even if drunk, would be able to smell the blood, and its wolf would refuse to consume it. There is a reason why shifters don't eat other shifters, even in animal form, aside from the cannibalism aspect of the whole idea. The flesh of our kind is toxic to us. I thought that was why the effect of the drug was so hard on those who consumed it.

But what if it's something else?

We've managed to secure five samples. It was pretty easy getting hold of them. A little too convenient, if I think back to that night. There is only one remaining sample left, all the others having already been sent off for testing.

Morris and Adam are waiting for me when I reach the site. Slamming the car door shut, I approach them. "Any word?"

"We've scoured the area," Adam says, shaking his head. "It's like he vanished into thin air. From the middle of the road."

"Are we thinking car?"

"Don't know yet." Morris looks irate. "Of course, none of the security cameras here are functioning. I thought you fixed this place up, Adam."

"I did," the Alpha of the Moore Pack responds. "But Kenton is on the edge of Nelo Clan territory. The disease keeps spreading here no matter how many times I disinfect it."

"Charlotte thinks they're trying to distract us," I say suddenly.

Morris gives me a sharp look. "Charlotte?"

"She does?" Adam looks interested.

"Why're you talking to that barista about this?" Morris says tightly. "I get that you're having a fling and all, but—"

"It's not a fling," I say coolly, meeting his gaze. "She's mine."

"Have you lost your min—"

Adam raises a hand, cutting him off. "I'm interested in what Charlotte has to say."

"She doesn't think our people are being used as ingredients," I begin. It takes me a couple of minutes to walk them through the conversation I had with her.

Despite his grievances, Morris's brows knit together as I finally stop to take a breath. "You trust her with this information?" he asks me.

"I do."

Adam appears troubled. "If what she says is true, and this whole thing is a distraction, then what are they aiming for?"

"The last time the vampires allied themselves," I explain, "a war broke out. The intention was to subdue our species and dominate them. What if Beruth wants to do the same?"

Morris looks around at the poor state of the area we are in, graffiti all over the new buildings that Adam had constructed a mere two years ago. "He has found a way to cripple our kind. Your girl's assessment might not be that far off. We need a guy undercover who can access the drug."

"But the rule is to consume it on the spot," Adam counters. "How's that—"

"What if we create our own diversion?" I suggest. "Undercover guy number one takes the vial. He's about to drink it. Undercover guy number two bumps into him and smashes a similar-looking vial on the floor. Guy 1 secretly hands off his vial to Guy 2."

"It's worth a try," Morris suggests. "I'll get on it. There's still a lot of activity occurring in my area."

"In the meantime, let's trace Aaron's steps and see where he was when he decided to go off alone somewhere."

Aaron is the man who went missing the day Florian was killed. It takes us a couple of hours, but we manage to find his phone.

"Check for the last number that called him," I tell Adam, who is going through the phone.

Adam finds the number and tries calling it, then shakes his head. "It's been disconnected."

"Florian got a call from an informant," I murmur. "I bet Aaron did, too. And I assume it was from a burner phone; all informants use burners. When an informant calls, his point of contact typically goes to meet him alone. What if this is how they're isolating our people?"

Morris and Adam exchange grim looks.

"We're going to have to warn them not to go off alone," Morris says.

"Florian told someone he was going to meet his informant." My voice is hard. "If he hadn't, we wouldn't have been able to figure this out. Aaron is one of your people, right, Adam?"

Adam nods. "I'll look into his list of informants, check his bank accounts, the works. It's getting late. You two should head back."

We part ways, but as I'm about to get in my car, Morris stops me. "Are you serious about that girl, Robert? You know what she is."

"You do, too." I give my friend a half-smile. "I know you looked into her when Harry told you I was seeing her."

"He worries about you. What's wrong with finding someone from your pack?"

I appreciate that my friend is also concerned about me, and I put his hand on my shoulder. "My wolf doesn't want anyone but her. It's as if he finally woke up when he first caught her scent."

Morris's eyes narrow at the corners. "That's impossible."

I give him a cool stare. "I've never lied to you before, Morris. I'm not going to start now. I know Aisha has already told you of Charlotte's circumstances. She's not the enemy."

"You're two different species—"

"I'm aware," I shrug.

My friend runs his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated. "Robert, she can't give you children. She can't be Alpha Female. Aisha wants you to be happy, but you can't be Alpha and be with a vampire. If you bring Charlotte into the pack, you might be able to stem the rebellion that's bound to happen, but you'll be putting the life of the woman you love in danger. You know there will be plenty of people who will try to assassinate her. Since you can't form a bond with a vampire, getting rid of her won't impact your mental state. That's according to pack elders, who can easily force you to take another female as a mate."

I let out an unsteady breath, each of his words hitting me like a ton of bricks. I have considered these things, but perhaps not to the extent that Morris has.

He puts his hand on my shoulder now, his voice heavy. "We're brothers, Robert. Your happiness is important to me, which is why I'll give you the same advice that Aisha did. Choose carefully. If you choose your happiness, then don't look back. We only get one life. Whatever you decide, I have your back."

"What if I decide that I want to bring Charlotte into my pack?" My voice is quiet as I look at him.

"Then I'll help you keep her safe. She'll have constant guards around her."

"But she'll be trapped, caged," I whisper hoarsely. "What kind of life is that?"

"This is why I said you'll have to choose," Morris tells me, his eyes grim. "You helped me when I fucked things up with my relationship. So, whatever you need, I'm here for you. Even if it doesn't make sense to me, I'll still support you."

As I watch him leave, I jam my hands in my pants pockets, pondering his words. I've been deliberately blinding myself to the truth, not wanting to face reality because it's going to be harsh.

My whole life has been spent trying to become Alpha. And yet, now that I am, I can't be with the woman I love because of it. If I choose my happiness, I'll have to step down as Alpha. If I choose to hold on to my position, I can either lose Charlotte or rob her of her freedom, to protect her.

She'll hate it. She'll be miserable. And I don't want that for her.

My shoulders feel heavy, as if the weight of the world is on them. My friends mean well, and I know they want to support me, but at the end of the day, I've gotten myself into an impossible situation.

On the drive back, I'm about to call Charlotte, only to realize my phone's battery is dead. I glance at the time. She must still be at the shelter; I decide to pick her up. Being around her relaxes me. Her scent soothes me when it's not driving me wild.

And ever since Florian's death, Charlotte's presence helps keep the grief at bay. My interactions with Florian were always brief, but I did consider him a friend. Losing him has been a massive blow to me security-wise, as well. I always made sure that nobody knew the extent of his loyalty to me, but what if I slipped up?

As I arrive at the shelter, I realize I can see the sign for it now. Guess the witch no longer considers me a threat. Not knowing how I feel about that, I park my car at the curb and head inside. The lobby is empty, and I call out for Charlotte.

A moment later, Ricky appears from the back, a small kitten in one hand, a bottle of milk in the other. "What're you doing here?"

"Where's Charlotte?" I peer behind him.

"Long gone," Ricky responds. "I dropped her off at your place. She was in a mood today. Never seen her so angry before. Whatever it is you did, I doubt a simple apology's going to fix it."

I take out my phone again. "Oh yeah, my battery's dead. Guess I'll find out what I did when I get home."

"There's a charger plugged in behind the desk here. Use that. I'll be back in a minute. Need to talk to you."

I plug in my phone as Ricky heads to the back with the kitten. When my phone turns on, I see five missed calls and one text message from Aisha. "Call me, you idiot."

"That's not very nice," I mutter to myself. "She's the idiot, not me."

However, I don't get a chance to respond to her because Ricky returns. "I tested the blood, including the sample your man brought by."

I straighten up, completely forgetting about Aisha.

"What did you find?"

From the look in Ricky's eyes, it's not going to be good news. My heart sinks.

"Whatever she threw up was toxic," Ricky informs me. "And I have a feeling that it was the thing keeping her vampire powers at bay. Do you know if Charlotte was born without her abilities or whether she lost them gradually?"

"She lost them when she was seven."

Ricky doesn't look surprised. "She was poisoned. I don't know exactly what she was given, but I've been looking into it. Whatever it was managed to strip her of all her abilities, and the poison remained inside her. Something suddenly made her body reject it. I think it was your blood, but I can't be sure."

"My blood?" I frown.

Ricky gestures with his hands, an indication of his own nerves. "I don't know what triggered it, but something set her off, and she ended up throwing up the poison. She probably still is; there's a good chance she's not telling you about it. And from what I've managed to figure out, your blood repelled the poison inside her, and now that it's coming out, she's going back to normal."

"What does that mean, normal?" I feel uneasy at the word.

"She's gaining back her abilities. She's not going to be weak and fragile for much longer. Her healing has already kick-started. The edges of her fingers were burned today, and they were already healing. Her need for blood is going to increase, and now that she's tasted yours…" the vet makes a disappointed sound, "...she's going to crave it. Shifter blood is addictive."

"But she ingested my blood weeks ago, before you told me to have her drink it," I tell him, my chest tightening with emotion. I'm so used to having Charlotte lean on me even when she doesn't want to. She's wildly independent, and I know she hates it that she needs someone to protect her, but I like protecting her. I like being her sword and shield. Without that, will she even need me anymore?

It's a childish thought, and I try to brush it off, but it remains lodged in the back of my head.

"When?" Ricky's eyes narrow, his voice urgent. "When did she drink your blood?"

"When we first, uh…" I shrug. "You know."

"Did she drink from you during sex?" the vet asks bluntly.

I roll my eyes slightly. "Yes."

"And what did you do?"

"What?" I gape at him.

"What did you do, Robert?"

"What do you mean, what did I do?" His question makes no sense to me.

Ricky gives me a look that has my wolf bristling in annoyance. "How did your animal react?"

"It was fi—" I pause, blinking. "Well, it came out and tried to mark her."

"As in a mating mark?" Ricky's face goes pale. "Did you give her a mating mark?"

"Well, it tried, but there's no bond. I would have felt it."

"You gave her a mating mark during intercourse, and she drank from you." Ricky looks white as a ghost.

"I'm not following you."

"Do you know what it means when vampires drink during intimacy?" Ricky demands.

"No." I raise my brows.

He stares at me as if he's suddenly encountered the village idiot and doesn't know how to deal with him.

"I'm going to assume that Charlotte doesn't know either," Ricky mumbles, seemingly to himself.

"Just tell me what it means, witch," I growl. "Is Charlotte in danger because she drank from me?"

"Well, no." Ricky begins before pausing. "Like shifters, vampires have their own mating rituals. During intercourse, they drink from each other. The fact that you two followed the mating rituals of your own kinds makes me think that perhaps what helped dispel the poison is not that you fed Charlotte your blood when she got injured, but that you two are now mates."

I'm stunned into silence for a few minutes. The idea of having already tied Charlotte to me is incredibly appealing, but…

"You're wrong," I sigh, my heart heavy. "If there were a bond, I would feel it. Besides, vampires and shifters can't mate. It's—"

"Who told you that?" Ricky asks, a strange look on his face.

I don't really know what to say to that. "I've never heard of a situation in which they have."

He's about to say something when the door behind me opens. I look over my shoulder to see an older woman with tawny eyes and long, dark hair tied in a thick braid.

"We'll talk later," Ricky mutters to me. "Go home."

My head is already spinning as I'm trying to absorb all this new info, so I decide to do as he says. As I pass by the woman, her head turns, and her eyes meet mine. For a moment, my heart jolts. It's as if she's looking into my soul.

Her lips curve slightly, and I think I hear her say, "Look after her."

But she's already walking toward Ricky, and I wonder if I just imagined it all.

"Angie," I hear Ricky greet her. "You look exhausted."

Her laughter is soft, and as I close the door behind me, I can hear the weariness in it. It saddens me for some inexplicable reason, and I have to stop myself from turning around and looking at her.

Getting into my car, I think about what I just learned, and my fingers tap against the steering wheel. Is it possible that Charlotte and I are mated? It would explain why I knew where she was that night with Terrence. I could feel her presence. I never had the chance to think about it since Florian was found murdered that very night, and then other things kept happening.

But what if…?

I close my eyes, searching for a flicker, just one hint of Charlotte's presence within me. When I come up empty, my eyes flutter open, and I stare at my hands clutching the wheel, disappointed.

My lips twist in a wry smile.

I got a little too excited, I guess.

Starting up the car, I begin the drive home.

******

There is a broken cup in the kitchen trash when I get home, and I wonder if she broke it in anger. She doesn't seem the type, but as I pick up the handle and see the design on it, I realize it's her favorite cup.

"Oh, she definitely smashed this one," I mutter to myself. I can see the coffee stains on the wall, as well, and somebody's poor attempt to clean it up. "What did you do, Robert?"

Fortunately, when I go to check on her, Charlotte is fast asleep in bed, but I see the tear stains on her face, and my heart nearly stops. My hand comes to rest on her shoulder, wanting to wake her up and ask what I did to make her sad, ready to grovel if I have to.

"I don't like it when you cry." My thumb strokes her soft cheek, and she moves toward my hand, as if seeking the heat.

I would like nothing more than to get into bed beside her, but I'm filthy, and I don't think she'll appreciate waking up to see me next to her when I've clearly done something to piss her off. Maybe a nice breakfast tomorrow would soften her up toward me.

I head off to take a shower.

As I'm about to get in, Harry calls.

"What do you want, Harry?" I turn on the hot water and watch the steam rise.

"Basta called. Apparently, you asked him to design a diamond set."

"Yeah, is it ready?" My lips spread into a pleased smile.

"Yep. He's asking if he should bring it by the office tomorrow."

"During lunch," I tell him. "What about the books I told you to find for me?"

My assistant and younger brother groans. "I found one book series, but finding first editions is really hard, Robert."

"And you're a very capable young man." I grin into the phone. "I don't care how expensive it is, Harry."

"Are you sure Charlotte even wants first editions of those books?" Harry asks, grumpy.

"I want her to have them." I recall how she went on and on about starting her own book collection. She was incredibly drunk, so I doubt she remembers it. But I do. I managed to get the names of some of the authors she likes, and the rest of the information I found in her apartment, on the small book shelves.

Women usually like diamonds and jewelry, but I think Charlotte has a preference for simpler things and hobbies.

Harry ends the call, still complaining, and I set aside the phone to wash the day's dirt and filth off of me. By the time I get out of the shower, it's nearing midnight, and I yawn. Rubbing a towel through my hair, with a second one wrapped around my hips, I look out the window idly, and then, I go still.

A figure is walking away from the house.

A figure I recognize all too well.

Charlotte?