Page 30 of Patrick’s Seduction

“I saw Cameron Gallagher. He’s not a vampire or a vampire hybrid.”

“Well, then why are you concerned?”

“Lydia, don’t react to what I’m telling you now, or Fallon will become worried. She can’t know about this.”

“Alright. I’ll listen.”

“Cameron Gallagher is a werewolf.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Only the sharp intake of a breath reached his ears. A few seconds passed, before Lydia answered, “I’ll get her packing. What’s your ETA?”

“I’m fifteen minutes out.”

“We’ll be ready.”

16

Fallon watched Lydia disconnect the call and shove her cell phone back into her pants pocket.

“What’s wrong?”

“You need to pack a bag.”

Nervous energy pulsed through Fallon. “Why? What did Patrick say? That was Patrick, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Let’s get you packed,” Lydia said evasively. “He’ll be here in fifteen minutes. We need to be ready to leave by then.”

Her hackles went up. What was Lydia keeping from her? Whatever Patrick had told her had spooked her. She’d seen it in Lydia’s face. She’d been unable to hide her shock.

“It’s about Cameron, isn’t it? Did Patrick confront him?” she pressed. “I have a right to know!”

“Please, Fallon. Patrick will explain everything to you, but for now, for your own safety, you need to get ready to leave. You can’t stay here. It’s not safe anymore.”

Lydia’s words sent a chill through her bones. Not safe anymore. What did she mean by it? What had happened since Patrick had told her he’d check out where Cameron lived? What had he found?

Realizing that Lydia wouldn’t tell her anything and that she would have to wait until Patrick showed up, she capitulated, “Fine, I’ll pack.”

She marched into her bedroom and pulled a travel bag from underneath her bed.

“For how long do I need to pack?”

From the door, Lydia said, “A few days. Just make sure you have everything with you that you can’t buy readily: any meds you’re on, your computer and other electronics, your phone, credit cards, ID.”

Fallon threw a few items of clothing into the bag, added socks and underwear, then went into her bathroom to collect her essential toiletries.

“Where is Patrick taking me?” she asked while she stuffed toiletries into a plastic bag, before putting them into her travel bag.

“To a safe house.”

A safe house. The words conjured up images of spies and witness protection. Of running for her life. Of constant danger. Of a life that wasn’t hers anymore. None of these images did anything to make her feel better. She shouldn’t need a safe house just because she’d broken up with a man who couldn’t take no for an answer.

She looked at Lydia and noticed how tense she had become since Patrick’s call. Earlier, she’d been friendly and chatty, easy to talk to. But now, something was stressing her out. She appeared more alert, her head turning toward the apartment door, whenever there were sounds coming from the stairwell.

She now recognized the bodyguard in her, the woman who didn’t get distracted from her duty. It was odd to see her change like that in a matter of seconds. She ran her eyes over Lydia, noticing for the first time how well-developed her biceps looked under the tight-fitting long-sleeved T-shirt. Her long legs were encased in form-fitting khakis, and she could easily picture her in hand-to-hand guerilla-style combat. She looked strong and determined, fierce even. Yet from what she could see, Lydia didn’t carry a weapon. She might be a trained bodyguard, but would Lydia be able to protect her from Cameron, who was much taller and stronger than the beautiful blonde?

Fallon looked at her watch. Still a few minutes until Patrick was supposed to be back. She walked back into the living room and collected her computer and her handbag with her phone, making sure she had the chargers for both. Then she let her gaze roam, wondering what else she needed to pack. She couldn’t think of anything. She hated packing last minute. The few times she’d gone on vacation, she’d laid out everything she wanted to bring well in advance so she wouldn’t forget anything. But without even knowing where she was going, she felt panicked.

Did she need to bring towels? Bottled water? Snacks? She walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. There was nothing in it that qualified as finger food easy to take along on a trip.