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If he’s not, the chances that I’ll live to see morning are very slim indeed.
Chapter 2
Maxim
If it’s not one damned thing, it’s another.
There are nights when I relish being the most powerful Alpha Human Side, nights when I love my work and the chance to blow off steam with a hot fairy or oversexed nymph at the club when my work is done.
Tonight, is not one of those nights.
“She just…disappeared, Boss. I swear. There one minute and boom, gone the next.” Troy, a very loyal, very I.Q. challenged bodyguard his superiors should have known better than to trust on Diana detail stands stiffly in my doorway, looking like he’s about to wet himself.
And yes, I’ve purposefully cultivated fear in my security staff—it keeps them on their toes—but Troy needs to grow a spine.
After all, I’ve never had anyone killed for losing Diana—yet.
“Is my sister a witch?” I ask flatly.
Troy gulps. “Um…no?”
“Is that a question, Troy? Are you uncertain as to whether my little sister is a practitioner of the dark arts?”
He shakes his head. “No, sir. No, she’s not.”
“So, she couldn’t have disappeared. That means she lost you, gave you the slip. You took your eyes off of her for a split second and that’s all it takes. And now you will find her. Quickly. Take a team with you. If you find her before midnight, I’ll consider allowing you to keep your job. If not, report to H.R. first thing tomorrow morning.”
He gulps again, his Adam’s apple working as he nods. “Yes, sir.”
Of course, he knows that H.R. stands for Hermione Rivers, my second-in-command and a woman who tolerates exactly zero shit from our soldiers. Average North Star pack members have a certain amount of leeway when it comes to when they pay their dues, how often they’re expected at pack meetings, and whether or not they RSVP to the midsummer party.
But my security crew runs like a well-oiled military operation.
When we say jump, they don’t have to ask how high. We’ve already covered that in training and reinforced it during weekly drills. It’s how we survive and thrive Human Side, where we have to conceal not only our illegal operations, but our basic nature, as well.
It’s also how we protect our people from Victor Darius and his thugs.
Victor has been trying to kill my family since the day my father told him he’d never bend the knee to the Blood River Alpha and moved our entire pack to Human Manhattan.
And last year, Victor very nearly succeeded. We don’t know who poisoned my father—no one’s come forward to claim responsibility for the attempted hit—but all my money is on Victor and Pax, the mealy-mouthed shit weasel he calls a son.
Which reminds me, “Tell Damon I want the Blood River intel report early tonight before you leave.”
Pax was part of the mate claiming ceremony in The Parallel tonight, and I want to know who he was mated to.
According to my sources, about half the Blood River pack’s women would be perfectly happy to end up with the Alpha’s son, for the wealth and status if nothing else. But the other half are smart enough to want to steer clear of that walking disaster.
If one of those women ended up his mate, we might have the making of an insider ally.
Hell, even if one of the social climbers is chosen, we could still come out on top. Give her a few months of putting up with her new husband’s alcoholic outbursts and general douchebaggery, and she might be willing to help arrange for her mate to have a little…accident.
An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
The Darius family tried to take my father away from me, from our people, and I’m happy to answer blood with blood.
But when I make my move, I won’t fail the way they did.
Troy nods stiffly, “Yes, sir. Will do, sir,” and hurries away down the hall without another word.
