Page 22 of Crave

“Maybe. Best theory we’ve got at the moment. Naomi took samples of your blood. We’ll send it off when the Council gets here.” Brody shot West a look. “We gotta get Topher to talk.”

“No shit.”

That earned him a middle finger salute.

Dallas held out both hands. “Hear me out. I get that you’re his sire. You’re just trying to protect him, but Topher spent a year as their prisoner. He has to know why they’re after him. And I’m guessing he could take a pretty good stab at what they did to Lacey, too. Keeping silent is putting us and him in danger.”

“Okay. Good talk. And, oh yeah. No.”

“West,” Brody warned.

But West wasn’t done. “I’ve talked with Cal. River, too. From what they’ve said, the best course is to give Topher space and let him come around on his own. The Council had Tracers force their way into his mind last month at the hearing. And I get it. I do. All those disappearances they couldn’t trace, the vamps being involved, not knowing why they’ve been mostly targeting females—”

“Which we still don’t know the reasons behind,” Dallas cut in.

“—but there’s a danger any time they have to use neural manipulation. He still has huge blank spaces in his memory, weeks—months even where he has no idea what happened to him. Go in there again before he’s had a chance to recover and it could cause permanent damage.”

I stiffened. Dallas threw his brother a look.

“Sorry.” West had the grace to look ashamed.

“You’re going to be staying with Dallas for a night or two until we know what we’re dealing with,” Brody said. “Naomi’s putting a rush on the blood work. And until we get the results back, you two are in quarantine.”

I made a face. “Why don’t we just feed Dallas to a basilisk now and save my mother the trouble of finding him?”

“Um, right here?”

“Please. You might scream like a girl at the sight of rubber spiders. But basilisks are so in your wheelhouse.”

“Okay, one, those were very manly screams. And two—"

Brody’s eyes flared wolf gold, voice infused with Alpha power. “Naomi has no idea what we’re dealing with. Not really. This thing could start an outbreak if we’re not careful. So until we get a preliminary all clear, go home and stay home.”

Dallas let his head fall back.

West groaned. “Fuck. There goes Thanksgiving.”

“We’re out of options,” Brody continued, ignoring them both. “You’re not healing, which means even once you can shift, chances are you won’t be able to do it fast enough to get away if vampires show up. And since I don’t know what they did to you, I’m not real comfortable excluding the possibility they’re planning on coming back to finish the job.”

Crap. He was right.

“I don’t have any reason to think you’re a danger to the human population, but until we have time to observe and see how this thing plays out, you don’t go anywhere alone. We’ll see how things look once we have your test results. You and Dallas were together before. No one will question you staying over there. It’s a good cover, at least until we can get that blood sample to the Council and get some answers.” He turned to West. “Send out word to the pack. I want patrols beefed up around the clock, and then in between, we’re going to have to work double time convincing Tall-Dark-and-Sullen to trust us. Someone pulls him out of that room three times a day. Take him running. Throw him in front of the TV in the game room and kick his ass at Fortnite. I’ll even sign off on taking him into town as long as it’s daytime and we’re not in the transmission window. I don’t care if he likes it or not. Sooner or later, he’ll decide we aren’t the enemy.”

* * *

“I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“I prefer boytoy. And like we both don’t know you’re really here to guard my ass.”

Letting the screen door bang shut, I growled at Dallas’s back. Chuckling, he dropped my go-bag on his leather sectional and led the way down the hall to the kitchen.

Located on the corner two blocks from the old pink granite courthouse downtown, Dallas’s three-story home in the historic district had wide wraparound porches and old white columns. Its big green lawn went on for miles, tickling between your toes on hot summer nights as the fireflies and bullfrogs were just starting to come out. There were even two lovely old live oaks that shaded the front walk out to the street.

He’d bought the property as a foreclosure and started renovations on the weekends with the help of Brody, West and Cal. And of course, yours truly. Frosting cupcakes taught you a thing or two about handling a caulking gun. Several walls had been knocked out, opening up a spacious front entryway and living area with soft cream walls. The original staircase and hardwood floors had been restored and stained a warm rosewood, with plump cushions placed in the lovely bay windows facing out over the street. While most of the upstairs was still a mess, the kitchen had been refinished in stainless and white quartz with warm cherrywood cabinets and a window over the farmhouse sink overlooking a little back garden.

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t hang out at my place.”

Yanking open the refrigerator, Dallas tossed me a bottle of water. I caught it one-handed. “Okay, first? Fifty-five-inch flat screen.”