Page 38 of Virtually Guarded

Right after the final plane took off and the final bus left for the Boston airport, a plane landed. Seth and I were going through the house making sure that everyone who was supposed to be gone was actually gone and that no one had left anything valuable behind; Davion was with the Anax. So I didn’t see the plane land or its passengers emerge, but I knew who was on the guest list. Only one group of guests who traveled by private plane hadn’t been present for the gathering, and that was because Silas Creighton, Anax of Canada, had been busy running the national gathering for the Canadian arkhons and alphas.

If it was Silas’s plane, that meant Quinn was back. I was looking forward to seeing him. I’d only overlapped with him as a guard by a little over a month, but I’d gotten along well with him. Everyone had. His mate, Malachi, was a different story; during Malachi’s visit for Christmas, he’d been prickly and a little antisocial, while also somehow managing to be smooth and attentive to protocol.

After the Christmas celebration, Quinn had left to drive Malachi back to Nova Scotia and had never come back. The official story was that he’d realized he belonged with his mate and had petitioned for permission to leave the Anax’s guard and move to Nova Scotia. None of us believed it, especially when we learned that the Anax had forbidden Quinn to return to the U.S.

Things had changed, though. The Anax had apologized to Quinn for whatever had actually led to Quinn’s choice to leave, and had invited Quinn and Malachi to the wedding along with the Canadian Anax. And now they were here.

I didn’t see them or Ren until supper, when all of us gathered in the dining room and other nearby rooms to share the meal. A far less formal deal than during the gathering. We still had food set out buffet-style, but now people wandered, chatting, most calling the Anax by name. No surprise. Other than the guests the arkhons of the Western Central and Midwest regions had brought, and of course those of us who worked for him, everyone here was a friend of Tobias’s. He wasn’t fond of his friends calling him by title except during official business.

I was in the den with Quinn, Malachi, and one of the Boston North wolves and his human partner and school-aged child when Ren walked in, looking uncertain but gorgeous. His hair was still spiked, but something was different about it. Style? Haircut? I couldn’t tell, but I liked it. He’d changed out of the clothes he’d borrowed earlier and now wore a maroon button-down shirt with cream-colored pinstripes, along with a pair of khaki shorts, low socks, and black shoes. The shirt fit him well, only a little oversized, and his chest was barely noticeable. Either he still had the bandages from earlier or he’d found a binder during his shopping trip.

Carrying a plate and glass, he hesitantly walked over to us, eyes wide and forehead wrinkled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” I smiled at him from my seat on one of the couches as he came closer. You look incredible.

His face reddened, and he turned to set his glass on a small table beside me. Thanks. I have some money to give back to you.

Later. Not wanting to have a private conversation with everyone else standing around, I extended the smile to the others. “Ren, this is Quinn Boucher and Malachi Powers from Nova Scotia. Friends of the Anax. And this is Trey Damone and his son Michael, of Boston North Pack, and Trey’s partner Jeremiah Crawford. All, this is Ren Torres.”

“Your mate,” Quinn and Michael said in unison. Michael giggled.

Quinn looked embarrassed as Malachi nudged him and said, “Discretion, please.”

“Sorry.” Quinn’s cheeks reddened.

“It’s all right,” I said. Quinn’s “colors,” auras that he saw around people, probably showed that Ren and I were mates. Eight-year-old Michael was psychic, with abilities most of the adults around him didn’t completely understand or know the extent of, so of course he’d picked up on something.

“Michael.” Jeremiah also had psychic abilities, and was probably the only one who did fully understand Michael.

“Sorry,” Michael mumbled. “Isn’t it a happy thing, though? Being mates?”

Trey sighed. “Michael, you’re intruding.”

“It’s fine.” Ren looked uncomfortable, but he smiled at the boy. “Michael, you’re part of a pack?”

“Because Zane made me part of it.” Michael looked proud, and he stood a little straighter. “Last spring. To keep me safe. I’m not ever going to be a werewolf, but I’m a member of Boston North Pack.”

“That’s cool.” Ren fidgeted with his fork. “Um, sorry. I might not remember everyone’s name. And I’m a little…I’m still getting used to everything.”

“You can sit down.” I touched the cushion

“Just stick with us.” Quinn grinned. “Malachi doesn’t remember people’s names either.”

“Watch it, boy,” Malachi growled, but his eyes twinkled.

The rest of the evening was restful, at least for me. Ren seemed overwhelmed, even though far fewer people were present than had been here for the gathering. I didn’t ask him what was going on, just kept him close to me. I was off duty now, so at least my attention to Ren wasn’t taking away from my job. After we finished eating, I introduced him to a few more of the Boston people, including Alpha Ruel’s human mate Tareth and their one-year-old son Chal, named after the former Alpha of City Pack. The baby’s wide eyes, smiles, and babbles seemed to both amuse and soothe Ren, and by the time we went upstairs, he seemed almost relaxed.

I walked him to his room and stopped at the door. He looked up at me, forehead wrinkled. “Are you coming in?”

“Do you want me to?” I countered. I wasn’t about to make any assumptions.

“Yes,” he said softly. “If it’s okay. I’m not used to sleeping with someone else in the bed, but with you, it was nice.”

“Then I’m fine with it.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “Letting Seth and Laurits know where I’ll be in case I’m needed.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Ren blushed. “I guess you have to do that.”

“If I’m being responsible, yeah.” I put the phone away and ignored the tones indicating Seth’s and Laurits’s replies. “I’ll also need to make sure I get up in time tomorrow. More guests will be showing up, and the final prep for the wedding will be happening. I can’t be late.”