Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Is this a rental?” Qhuinn glanced over his shoulder, the piercings in his ears glinting in the light. “Or is that Candice’s name on the deed?”
“Don’t know. It’s just the address she listed when she registered with Saxton’s paralegals. He’s researching the property records as we speak.”
The pair of them made quick work of the floor plan: Living room, sitting room with a TV, two bedrooms, two full baths. Upstairs, there was a primary suite, and what do you know, there were no clothes in the dresser or the closet, no toiletries in the bath, no photographs of the female or her family.
Back downstairs, Tohr stood at the base of the steps and stared at the front door as he took out his phone.
Vishous answered on the second ring. “Empty?”
“Like a ghost town. And you still haven’t found anything about her? At all?”
“Nothing. Whoever that female is, she’s a ghost.” When Tohr went quiet, there was a chuckle on the other end. “So you’re thinking the same thing I am?”
Qhuinn came up from the basement. “Nothing in the cellar except a pair of washing machines.”
“She doesn’t live here,” Tohr concluded. “This was a lie, too.”
None of it made sense. Female comes in, to register a name that was fake and an address that was a lie, into the species database. She leaves those papers behind and disappears.
“What’re we doing now?” V said over the connection.
“I want you to send me a really good still of her from the footage,” Tohr said grimly. “And the address of Broadius’s maid, the one who found him.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Let me help you with that.”
As Mayhem tossed the offer out into the breeze, he wanted to sound casual—when in reality, his fangs were tingling with aggression and he was surreptitiously checking that the gun he’d tucked at the small of his back was where he’d put it.
He’d slipped the weapon into his waistband and covered it with his fleece as soon as Mahrci had started putting on those red-and-gray ski pants and the matching parka.
“Really,” he prompted when he got no response. “I want to help.”
She looked up from the bag of livestock feed she was humping off the mudroom’s floor. “Oh, no, it’s okay. I’ve got it.”
And sure enough, she did. Even though it involved some grunting and straining, she managed to get the fifty-pound deadweight on her shoulder, buttressing it with a solid palm.
That landed like the slap on a bare ass.
Okay, that’s hot, he thought as he eyed her braced stance.
“I’ll let you open the door for me, though?” she said.
He was so distracted running his eyes down her body—and trying to pretend he wasn’t checking her out—that he didn’t realize she’d spoken. Then her expectant expression registered and he snapped to attention.
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Pulling on his own parka, he hustled for the back door of the mudroom. “And sorry, I’m just . . . I’ve got PTSD from the bite marks on those ski pants, k?”
Mahrci glanced down at herself. “It’s just a couple of little pinpricks? They’re still good enough to use. Now, how about that door?”
“Right, yup.” He futzed around before the locks released. “Ladies first.”
As she passed by him, he shut his lids and breathed in. Her scent was a combination of fresh air and female spice, and for a split second, it was all he knew.
Then the cold hit him and he whipped back into action.
There was not going to be a repeat of last night. Nope, not on his watch—
Thump!
Mahrci dumped the bag in the snow, and reached for one of the sets of snowshoes that were hanging on pegs on the side porch. When she bent down to strap them on, he had to look elsewhere, otherwise he felt like a fucking letch—so he focused on the moon overhead. It was just a sliver, but it was super bright because of the clear night.
As he grabbed a set of the shoes, too, she glanced over from her crouch. “So you’re really coming with me?”
He let the tennis rackets fall to the snowy porch boards. “You mind? I’ve been cooped up all day. Need some fresh air.”
She straightened. “And you joining in has nothing to do with—”
“Your little furry forest friends? The ones with the matched sets of dental daggers?” He made a pshaw with his bare hand. “Naaaaah.”
Mahrci tilted her head as she stared up at him, in that way she did . . . and her dark blue eyes were so lovely in the moonlight, he briefly forgot his own name.
But stayed clear on his priorities.
“Please don’t argue with me.” He didn’t bother to hide the hard tone behind his words. “I’m not rolling any dice with your life, especially ones that come on four paws. That wolf? It’s still out there.”
And so was whoever had scared her so badly on the phone.