Destiny of the Wolf

Chapter 14

LELANDI MEANT TO SHOVE DARIEN AWAY, BUT SHE TOUCHED his waist tentatively instead, wanting to rip off his shin and run her fingers over his bare chest, his face, to caress every inch of him while he touched her—Just like the man had done with her in her fantasy world. She wanted to be sure he really wasn‘t the man in her dreams.

Yet liquid heat pooled between her legs and fire filled her belly. No lupus garou had ever smiled so sexy-like; none had ever set her blood afire like he did.

“It’s...” She meant to tell him it wasn’t right. He didn’t really want her, just wanted to recapture the love he’d lost with her sister.

But he covered her mouth with his and stopped her objections. Kissed her—like she was the last woman on earth and he’d been deprived for years—greedily, hungrily, unabashedly.

Her heartbeat quickened. Now that she was no longer in pain or on medication that dulled her senses, she recognized the feel of him, the firmness, strength, the subtle way he touched her, claimed her, only it was so much more real. The beating of his heart sounded in her ears, the heat of his body burned at her soul, she tasted the sweetness of his lips, smelled the musky scent of him. He was her lover, his face no longer hidden in the shadows of her dreams, but genuine, his expression filled with hope and sexual craving.

Touching his tongue to the seam of her mouth, then penetrating, exploring, teasing her tongue with his, he pressed his advantage. And she let him, cherished the feel, but couldn’t give in to the lust. His fingers roamed over her arms, tracing the skin, sending trails of tiny caressing sensations up and down, while her fingers remained cemented to his waist. She was afraid to touch him further, afraid to lead him on when she knew what they were doing was wrong and no good would come of it. Bruin and Crassus, her brother even, would not permit the union between the gray and her.

He maneuvered her away from the wall toward the bed. Not good, yet she didn’t want to stop him. Her reluctance to encourage him didn’t seem to faze him. He kissed her jaw, then swept his tantalizing mouth down her neck, licking a trail to the hollow of her throat.

She melted. Not being able to stand, she collapsed on her butt on the bed. “We shouldn’t...”

He pushed her knees apart making her feel vulnerable, exposed to his desires. He moved between her legs and reached for the first button on her shirt, but she seized his wrists.

“I want to make sure you’re healed. Lelandi.”

“I am,” she said, still holding tight, having to stop this madness.

He smiled and the look was pure devil. “For what I want to do.”

She frowned. “I meant, I was healed. That’s all, you don’t have to look.”

“Doctor’s orders.” The devilish gleam intensified in his darkened eyes.

“Liar!”

“Why didn’t this Bruin select a mate for you earlier?” He pulled his hands free and finished unbuttoning the shirt, then slipped it off her shoulders.

His gaze focused on her nudity, an appreciative gleam in his eyes, and her skin flushed. “I told you. He thought my temper was too volatile.”

“Try again.” Darien pushed her back against the mattress. Straddling her leg with his, he leaned against her, his arousal hard against her thigh as his finger outlined the tip of her breast, then the other.

Her body tingled, her nubs peaking to the barest of his touches, and a moan welled up from deep within her throat. She couldn’t fight the attraction she had for him even if she wanted to.

“Tell me the truth. You’d never come into a wolf’s heat, had you? Not until we mated in our dreams, not until you became mine. Come to me, Lelandi, like you do in my dreams.” Darien kissed her forehead and waited, watching to see her reaction.

She studied his heavily lidded eyes, the look of lust filling them. “It was only a dream,” she insisted. “But Larissa knew I’d had the dreams of... of a man who was Adonis reborn.”

“Adonis?” He gave her a wicked smile.

She pursed her lips. “He’s extremely handsome.”

“He looks like me.” He unbuttoned his shirt, leaving it hanging open.

She looked at his chest, and yes, the corded muscles, the smattering of dark hair stretching down to his waistband, the bronze skin that took her breath away whenever she spied him in the woods of her dreams...

She wanted to reach out to touch him, to feel his skin sizzling beneath her fingertips.

“Why didn’t you tell me we’ve been dream mated?’ Her gaze shifted to his eyes. “I never saw his face.” He frowned, cupped her face, and thought for a moment. “Ah. Because I’m the one who has the gift. But you pick up on some of it because you’re my soul mate.” He pressed her hands firmly against his chest. Do you remember the beating of my heart? The way I feel? The way my mouth feels against yours? Lelandi, you were always the one. The first time I came to you, someone had called your name and in your dream state you had mouthed your name, trying to make sense of it, unable to wake fully. You said your name against my mouth again. But I could never learn your last name.”

He was the one. So why was she still reluctant to give herself to him? Her sister. She couldn’t break free of the notion her sister had meant something to him.

He pulled Lelandi from the bed into his embrace and held her tight. “What I’d had with Larissa didn’t feel right, but she’d told me she didn’t have any family. And she used the name I knew you by. I assumed the dreams I shared with you were fantasy and making love with you in the flesh wasn’t supposed to be as erotic.”

Her sister had lied. She’d duped him and... and he hadn’t meant anything to her as Lelandi had feared.

She touched his chest with trembling fingers, wanting what he offered, the sexual connection she’d shared with him upon sleeping, but afraid, too, of the consequences. “There’s... there’s no going back.”

“As if I’d give you up for anything in the world, Lelandi. You’re the one I’ve searched for every night, longing to be reunited with you. The one who haunts my dreams until we’re together again. It’s you.”

Right or wrong, she pressed her lips against his, giving herself willingly to him and was immediately transported to the dream. Except it was no longer a dream. This time he captivated all of her senses. His sexual pheromones filled her nostrils like an aphrodisiac, his essence overwhelming her senses.

“There’s no going back,” she repeated, her voice soft, worried.

She’d defy her pack and her family’s wishes. But she wouldn’t be like Larissa. Her mating would be final, like it was for other lupus garous. No other would come between them.

He stroked her hair with loving caresses. “You couldn’t come into a wolf’s heat until I reached out to you. You are mine.”

Like a feral wolf who caught his prey and claimed her, he kissed her greedily, possessively. No more gentleness, waiting to make sure she agreed. And she loved it. His hands tangled in her long hair, and he grabbed handfuls, his smoldering gaze raking over her nakedness. But she couldn’t take her eyes off his face, the chiseled features, the predatory look, the face she’d so wanted to see, but couldn’t in her dreams.

Releasing her hair, he slid his hands down her shoulders to her breasts, his palms massaging them. His thumbs caressed her nipples, teasing them to beg for more. His tongue plunged into her mouth, melting any denial she might have that he was the one. Tremulous shivers of pleasure sizzled across her bare skin. His rigid erection pressed against her waist, urgent, hungry to batter down her virginal barrier.

She maneuvered around him so that his back was to the bed, then using his shirt to hold him hostage, she pushed him onto the mattress. His mouth curved up and his eyes sparkled with dark delight. She pressed his legs apart and moved in between them. This time she was in charge, uninhibited like in her dreams.

Intending to work up nice and slow and torture him, she already craved flopping on her back and letting him take her. So much for her wanting to be in charge. She reached down to unfasten his belt, and he folded his arms behind his head and watched her struggle. But she couldn’t unhook the belt no matter how much she tried. Finally, he chuckled low, quickly stripped, then pulled her on top of him, bare skin to bare skin.

He was gorgeous—every buff, corded muscle tensed in anticipation. The smattering of dark hair covering his chest trailed down toward the curly hairs between his legs, and she considered the way his erection was already ramrod stiff, thick and readied, poking her in the belly. This was the way she remembered him in the pale light of the moon, the look and feel of his hard muscles, the touch of his soft skin, the way his nipples pebbled with her mouth and tongue grazing them. He swept his hands down her arms, sending a rush of tingling straight to her core, a thousand times more pleasurable than in the dreams.

She ran her fingers over the muscles in his chest, and his arousal jumped. She smiled and looked up at his face, his eyes glazed over, his lips curving up slightly. She shifted, straddling him, her knees bent, spreading them outward, wanting to capture the pike poking between her legs. Hot and wet and way past ready.

He groaned and roiled her onto her back, then leaned against her. She loved It when he took charge. He was like her dream lover, but the feelings were richer, his touch more arousing, every sense on high alert as she smelled his sexual desire, heard his heart pumping pell mell, and felt his aroused breath against her cheek. Pure eroticism stoked every nerve ending.

Clutching handfuls of his shoulder-length hair, she arched her pelvis against him, seeking gratification, her body screaming with unfulfilled need. Responding to her, he rubbed his heavy groin against her folds and elicited a soft, deep-throated moan from her.

But he refused to enter her yet. Instead, he smiled and flicked his tongue against her sensitive nipple, his gaze focused back on hers. She bucked against him, wanting him to enter her, to make her his mate, to complete the bond that would last forever. But he wouldn’t hurry no matter how much she desired him to, and instead, swept his fingers down her waist, then lifted his body off her slightly, touching the erotic zone at the apex of her thighs. He stroked her hard and fast, and she could barely take the delicious pleasure of his touch. Slipping his fingers lower, he inserted them deeply inside her.

Hoarsely, he said. “You’re wet for me.”

She bit his shoulder with a mock nip, and he thrust his head back and laughed. Of course she was wet. As soon as he’d advanced toward her in the bedroom with that hungry, feral look in his eyes, the moisture had gathered between her legs.

He thrust his fingers deep inside her, simulating what he would do with his engorged erection, soon, she hoped as he wrung out every emotion, pumping up her craving, just a thread short of completion. Then her internal muscles convulsed with orgasm and a wave of heat surged through her. His fingers stilled inside her, he gave her a satisfied smile.

Oh heavens, she’d come with just his fingers inside her. Sweet passion spiraled through her and with a soft moan, she called out his name, loving that she could now say it, no longer silenced like in the dream.

Darien’s expression filled with deep satisfaction, and she loved seeing how much he enjoyed giving her pleasure. But they weren’t done, not until they’d truly mated.

Finally,” he whispered in her ear, “you know me. And now, it’s my turn.” His eyes held a roguish gleam. And she was ready.

God of thunder, Lelandi was beautiful. Darien wanted to laugh when she took charge, then quickly ceded, melting to his strokes. And now he had her where he desired her, the vixen.

For the first time, he wanted to go slow and control the outcome, not wishing to hurt her when he broke through her barrier. He spread her thighs wide and entered her carefully, stretching her to accept his engorged erection.

“You... are... huge.”

He smiled, but slowed his penetration. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, but I was supposed to be in charge.”

He chuckled, his voice drenched in lust. ‘You were taking too long,” he rasped, then paused to take her nipple between his teeth, scraping gently.

Her Inner muscles clenched him tightly, but he gently pushed forward. For a moment he paused, then he watched her face, flushed with arousal, and with a sudden thrust, he breached the maidenhead. She opened her eyes and he worried he’d hurl her.

“Are you all right?” he asked again, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

Her muscles clenched again, and she nodded. “I’ve... I’ve never felt anything like this... not even in the dreams.”

He gave a wolfish grin and brushed her hair away from her cheek. “I don’t doubt it. Not when you were a virgin.”

With slow, deep thrusts, he plunged into her over and over again, loving every inch of his dream mate in the flesh. She was his, now and forever.

Lelandi couldn’t catch her breath as Darien pushed her toward the peak. Julia Wildthorn was right. Sex with a lupus garou who was your soul mate was nothing short of miraculous.

Darien’s heated gaze swept over her again, his body desiring her with an urgency she felt, too, and she wanted to heighten the pleasure as her body shouted to reach climax again. But he pinned her shoulders down, claiming her, possessing her, making her his for as long as they both lived. She loved what being lupus garou meant—the intensity of the lovemaking, the unbreakable bond between them, stronger even than the familial one, the craving so great, it couldn’t be denied.

“Thor almighty,” Darien groaned, filling her womb with his hot seed, spasms of orgasm rocking her body, washing through her like a rogue tidal wave. For a moment, he lay heavily against her, his and her breathing hard, their hearts pumping at breakneck speed. “Life will never be the same,” he said, huskily, trying to lift his weight from her, but she held on tight. “I’ll crush you.” His eyes smiled.

“You feel so good against me, I don’t want you to ever let go.”

He kissed her cheek and let out a tired breath. “It’s about time you knew where you belonged.”

She bit him on the shoulder, hard this time. He laughed and moved off her, then pulled her on top of him and caressed her waist with a gentle sweeping touch. She cherished the way he could be so loving.

But then he was back to business. “What did you talk about with Silva last night?”

“Didn’t Trevor tell you everything?” Lelandi asked, feeling peeved.

They were supposed to cuddle for a while, luxuriate in the feel of one another, the bond they’d just created. She realized tangling with a pack leader meant business was a heartbeat away.

Darien could see convincing Lelandi that as soul mates there would be no secrets between them, he would have to wear her down on that issue, too. But as much as he wanted to hold her tight and enjoy her heated little body, he had to protect her from harm. That meant knowing all he could about Lelandi and her sister. “I’d rather hear it from you.”

“I don’t remember. Must have been the medicine.”

Darien humpfed under his breath. “Guess you’re as good a liar as your sister.”

Lelandi gave him a half smile and licked Darien’s nipple.

He’d expected her to come out fighting. He was quickly learning she was like her sister—totally unpredictable. It sure as hell kept him on the edge of his seat.

“He’s going to miss the opening ceremony,” Jake said downstairs in the living room, loudly enough for Darien and Lelandi to hear.

“Considering the importance of what he’s doing, don’t you think this takes priority over the fair?” Tom asked.

“Hopefully, he won’t be so grouchy anymore,” Jake added.

Tom laughed.

Glancing up at the canopy over the bed, Darien rolled his eyes.

Lelandi kissed his cheek. “I’m sure Sam’s waiting for me to go with him to serve drinks.”

“I’d rather keep you here with me for the rest of the day.”

“Was it ... was it better for you than In the dreams?”

He twisted a curl of her hair around his finger. “You have to ask? I can’t begin to describe how it made me feel, like a joining of our souls, the consummation of a lifelong search, the dream I’ve been trying to make real for months.”

She sighed heavily. “The same for me. Only I thought you’d be less—big.”

He chuckled. “The real thing feels more...”

“Real.”

“See you at the opening ceremony,” Tom hollered. and slammed the front door.

Darien groaned. “Got to go. But we’re leaving the festivities early so we can return here. Sure you don’t want to stay here until I return?”

“Nope, you’ve promised to let me out of confinement, and I’m going to the fair.”

“I want to keep you safe. Lelandi.”

“I’ll be safe, and thinking about the festivities after the ceremony.”

Darien rose from the bed and looked down at Lelandi‘s nakedness. “You’re beautiful. Absolutely god sent.”

“You’re not half-bad yourself.”

“Adonis, remember?’ he said grinning.

“I hear them stirring, Sam,” Jake said. “But if they don’t hurry, you can take Silva to the tavern, and I’ll bring Lelandi later. Unless Darien has decided to skip the opening ceremony.”

Darien shook his head and dressed while Lelandi watched. Her eyes held his hostage and he growled. “Come back early, vixen.” Then he gave her body another long look of approval, groaned, and shut the door on his departure.

The smoldering gaze in Darien’s eyes made her want to tackle him and return him to bed, forget about the fair or her freedom for a few hours.

Silva soon joined her, her face unreadable, although Lelandi thought something was wrong. Then Silva said, “Darien must have woken on the wrong side of the bed again. First, he ordered Jake to take Peter to task for sleeping on guard duty. Then Darien told me I had to give you a more decent shirt than what I bought you to wear.” She shrugged. “I don’t see anything wrong with what you were wearing.” She gave a sly smile. “But I guess he doesn’t want the rest of the guys to see. I really can’t believe he’s letting you out of the house to work with us.”

“I think he’s feeling better now. I guess he trusts Sam to keep a good eye on me.”

“He will.” The look Silva gave and the way she said the words was a warning. Don’t plan on slipping away.

Lelandi pulled a cashmere sweater out of her bag. “He found my suitcase.”

Silva stared at the bag. “Who had it?” She walked over to it and smelled It. “The guy in the copper coat.”

“It smells like several grays.” Lelandi finished dressing. “Even Sheriff Sheridan’s paws have been on it.”

“They should be. He’s the sheriff. Ready to go, sugar? Sam’s waiting downstairs. Doc Mitchell, our local veterinarian, will be the guard on duty.”

“Veterinarian?”

“Yep, horse doctor during the Civil War. He’s been a practicing vet forever. Does a super job when we’re in our wolf forms. And he’s one of the best shooters we’ve got.”

“Like, good enough to have killed the gunman from a distance?”

“Among the grays quite a few are like that.”

Great.

“What the hell’s holding you up, Silva?” Sam shouted from the bottom of the stairs. “We’ve got to get a move on.”

“Yes, siree, boss.” Silva led Lelandi down the stairs. “Didn’t want to leave our star guest behind.”

Sam motioned to a gray-bearded man, his eyes black and beady, but sharp as a wary wolf’s, taking in every inch of her, his mouth expressionless.

“Doc Mitchell,” Sam explained. “He’s riding shotgun.”

The vet patted the gun in the holster at his hip. Wearing a leather vest and denims, cowboy boots, and a weather-beaten Stetson, he just needed chaps and a horse—though the distinctive odor of horse clung to him—and he’d be right at home In the part of a grizzly old gunslinger.

He tipped his hat in greeting.

“Nice to meet you, Doctor Mitchell,” Lelandi said.

“Mitchell—no need to be formal, miss,” He motioned to the black Suburban parked in front of Darien’s house.

Lelandi smelled snow in the air and wished she’d managed to steal away with some of her warmer clothes.

Silva sat next to Lelandi in the backseat, then her mouth curved up In a wide smile. “Ohmigod, Darien and you...” She squeezed Lelandi’s hands and didn’t say anything more.

Sam pulled out of the driveway and headed back to town while Mitchell watched out the front windshield and mirrors for signs of trouble.

Silva said with a smirk. “Unofficially, I’d say you’re a bona fide official member of our pack.”

Sam glanced over the seat while Mitchell looked in the rearview mirror. “Why?” Mitchell asked. “Did Darien say something to you?”

“Nope,” Silva said. “It goes a little deeper.”

Mitchell glanced over the seat at Lelandi. She was sure her face was crimson as hot as it felt.

“Whoa, I take it the boss will officially announce this soon?” He shook his head and watched the road again. “Going to be some pissed-off bitches. Although we knew where this was headed.”

Yeah, and Lelandi was ready to deal with every one of them to keep her dream lover at her beck and call.

When they drove into town. Lelandi stared at the transformation. Colorful banners hung from every covered porch, and arts and crafts and food booths crowded all the wooden walkways down the main street. Even the shabby building across from the tavern was decorated in sliver and red banners, proclaiming it to be the first hotel in Silver Town, haunted since its inception. Souvenirs of Indian arrowheads and other old western artifacts were on display. The aroma of sausages and turkey legs grilling filled the air, and Victorian music wafted in the chilly breeze. But the costumes of the townspeople garnered Lelandi’s attention most. Dressed in Victorian era clothing, they wore sunshiny smiles and seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Lelandi took a deep breath. “I remember wearing the cage when I was a young girl. I can’t imagine dressing like that again.” And the awful corsets, too.

“Sure. It’s part of our heritage, our history. Even before we started the fair, we had a Victorian Era Day to celebrate the beginning of our town. A train ride winds up through the mountains, too, and anyone dressed in period costume gets on half price. Looks like a lot of the tourists came prepared this year. Hosstene, Darien’s accountant at the factory,” Silva said, pointing at a stall, “is renting costumes for the day for those who don’t have one and want to fit in.” Silva patted Lelandi’s arm. “But, you don’t need to rent one. I’ve got just the dress for you.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t pay any money to that woman.” Lelandi said, recalling their confrontation in the tavern’s restroom.

Mitchell snorted. “There’s already a welcoming crowd waiting for their free drinks at the tavern. Give anything away free and it’s a madhouse. Waste of money, I say.”

“Like when you spay and neuter cats and dogs for free once a month to avoid unwanted pets. right, Mitchell?” Sam asked, humor coating his words. “Got a ton of business last year by offering a few free sodas. Before we knew it, everyone was ordering the harder stuff and we made a bundle.” He turned to Leiandi. “Just a warning, this is the one day of the year that humans are allowed to enter. Otherwise, it’s a private club.”

“But you let me in that one day.”

Sam smiled. “Private as in only lupus garous are allowed. I didn’t know you were Larissa’s sister at first, but I recognized you were one of us.”

His brow furrowed. Deputy Trevor waved at them from the tavern as they pulled into a parking space.

“What’s he doing here?” Mitchell grumbled.

“Darien’s orders to ensure we get the little lady into the tavern safe and sound,” Sam said.

The crowd parted to make way for Sam to unlock the door, but he relocked it after he, Silva, Lelandi, and Mitchell entered the establishment.

A shudder ran down Lelandi’s entire body, remembering her apprehension when she’d first visited the tavern, and what transpired after she left.

Silva squeezed her hand and led her to a room off the bar. “Here’s where we store our costumes. We celebrate Blow Me Timber Pirate Day, Viking Day for those of us who were from the Norselands, and Celtic Day for the Scots-Irish among us. German Fest is filled with German foods, song, and drink. We never advertise the events, but the word is spreading and we’re getting more tourists every year. The guys will change in another room.”

Shelves filled the large room and two doors led into a walk-In closet where costumes hung on poles. Silva pulled out a drawer in a chest at one end of the closet. “Time to return to an earlier era when men wore the pants in the family.”

Lelandi shook her head. “They think they still do.” She slipped out of her sweater and unfastened her bra. She’d never thought she’d wear a corset again after she’d ditched hers in the Victorian Age.

Lelandi fingered the gowns and pulled out a brilliant blue satin one.

Silva dangled a pair of garters. “Remember these?”

“Nobody will know what I wear under the gown.”

Silva smiled. “Darien will.”

“I bet he doesn’t dress up for these occasions.”

“Ha!” Silva said. “He’s the one who insisted on it. And he was the one who started Pirate’s Day. I swear he was an ancient Viking, but he isn’t old enough. Here are your drawers.”

“Crotchless. Those were the days.” Lelandi laughed.

Silva slipped a sleeveless, knee-length cotton chemise over Lelandi’s head. She lifted a robin’s egg blue satin corset, heavily boned with whalebone out of the drawer.

Lelandi folded her arms. “Not the corset.”

“Got to have something to hold you up. You know what they say about women who don’t wear their corsets.”

“They’re loose women, but...”

Silva laced up the ties, but not too tightly. Then she pulled the crinoline cage out and opened it up. “Better than the five or six petticoats we used to wear to give our skirts shape.” She slipped a camisole over Lelandi’s head.

“I remember how long it took us to dress.”

Silva fitted a simple petticoat over the frame. “And how we needed help getting into all this. For most, It didn’t matter, but for us, trying to shed our clothes when the moon first made its appearance...” She shook her head. “What a chore. I ripped more petticoats trying to ditch them.” She layered an intricately embroidered petticoat over the plain one. “Now for the finale.” She helped Lelandi on with the gown.

The neckline dipped low, the mere strap of a sleeve rested off the shoulders, and Lelandi felt more exposed than usual. “Do you have anything that’s cut a little higher?”

“Nope,” Silva said with a knowing smirk. “Besides, for serving in the tavern, it seems appropriate.”

“Ha! They’re Victorian ballroom gowns.” Lelandi fingered a peach one. “Not what the serving wenches would have worn.”

Silva pulled the peach gown out. “High-classed tavern in the New World.”

Lelandi helped Silva dress and they pinned their hair up, then fastened hats covered in feathers to each other’s hair. “We’ll skip the gloves,” Silva said, “I tried them last year, but spilled a tray of customers’ drinks, and Sam said enough with the authenticity of the period.”

Behind the counter, Sam was pouring drinks, wearing a swallowtail coat and black satin knee breeches tight over high boots.

“Wow, Sam, you sure look dashing.” He gave Lelandi a broad smile. Doc Mitchell was wearing a dinner coat without tails and a satin vest. He tipped his head in greeting. Lelandi smiled back at him. “You, too. Doc. I feel like I’ve definitely traveled back in time.” Especially since the place still seemed part of the Victorian Age.

“Ladies.” Sam kissed each of their hands in succession. “You look divine. But if Darien knew how striking Lelandi looked in that blue gown, he’d send her home.”

“Here’s hoping no one will spill the beans.” Silva motioned to the glasses stacked underneath the bar. “Bring them out and I’ll fill them.”

Sam motioned to Mitchell to open the door. The crowd surged forward and within minutes, the place was filled with humans and lupus garous. Laughter and conversation quickly filled the silence.

Dressed in a tweed suit, Joe Kelly, the miner who’d paid for her bottled water the first time she’d been here, walked up to the bar with a smile. This time he was clean, not a speck of grime on his baby-round face. His gaze focused on her low-cut bodice, which sent a prickle of anxiety sparking across her skin. No matter how many times she’d tried to pull the bodice higher when she crouched to get glasses from beneath the bar, the darned thing wouldn’t budge. And Sam had caught her in the act every time.

“Can I have a beer?” Joe asked.

“Sure.” Lelandi filled a glass.

“You look a lot like your sister.”

Triplets often did, she wanted to say. “You were her friend?”

His eyes darkened and his mouth curved down.

He didn’t like being thought of as Larissa’s friend? Maybe he’d stalked her and she’d turned him down. Maybe he’d hired the killer or did the job himself.

He lifted his gaze slowly. “Will you... leave with me? I... I don’t want you to get hurt, too.”

She assumed he’d cared for Larissa. A gut Instinct. “Do you know what happened to my sister?”

Sam moved closer to Lelandi. He didn’t look at her, just continued pouring drinks, but he had no reason to close in on her, except to hear what was being said. For her protection? Or was there more at stake?

Joe slid Lelandi a piece of paper. She considered stuffing it in her bodice, but when Trevor showed interest in the note, she opened it. Joe bowed his head and took his beer back to his table.

The paper was blank. Trevor seized it and Joe gave her a satisfied smile. The deputy shot Joe a blistering look. Joe lifted a shoulder.

Trevor asked Lelandi. “What did he say to you?”

“Why don’t you ask Sam? He’s been eavesdropping.”

Sam gave her a reserved smile.

Trevor’s expression darkened. “Because I’m asking you.”

Having dealt with his kind before in her pack, she shrugged off his attempt at Intimidation. Given a little power, it would go straight to their heads.

“He wanted a beer. I gave him one. He worried for my safety. Considering what happened the last time I left this tavern, his concern probably is justified. Oh, and he said I look like my sister. No real revelation there.” She raised a brow, waiting for Trevor’s response.

He glanced at Sam who nodded, confirming she’d spoken the truth. The deputy crumpled the note and tossed it on the bar, then walked off. Before Lelandi could grab the note, Sam did. Why? Did he think there was some secret communiqué written on the paper in invisible ink?

Sam shoved the note in his pocket. She hoped if Joe had written anything to her in secret, he wouldn’t get in trouble for it. Unless he had a hand in her sister’s death. As much as she thought he was okay, she couldn’t rule out anyone yet.

The stocky bitch who’d pulled Lelandi’s hair in the restroom the night she was shot sidled up to the bar. Silva was carrying a tray of drinks to a table, Sam was filling more glasses, and Lelandi set more drinks on another tray, trying to ignore Angelina.

“Got you tending bar. I see. Earning your keep?” Angelina snarled. “Three bullets weren’t enough to keep you away, were they? What will it take?”