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“I’m sorry,” I whisper, cheeks going hot with shame. Here I am thinking obscene things about Maxim’s body when members of his pack are lost forever.
“What are you sorry for?” he asks calmly.
“The bomb,” I say. “I have a feeling it was a distraction so that man could take me. It’s…my fault your people are dead.”
“We’ve had no casualties. At least, not yet. Two of the men who were in the orchestra pit when it exploded are in bad shape, but they’re breathing and receiving the best care. Stars willing, they’ll pull through.” He exhales. “And it isn’t your fault. It’s mine. My security should be tighter. I have no idea how these people got in, but no one else will be breaching our defenses. We’re going into stage four lock down. Which means you won’t be allowed to leave your rooms. At all. Even with an escort. Not until we sort out what the hell this was all about. So far, the puzzle pieces aren’t coming together.”
“I understand,” I say.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I take the hand he offers, relishing the big, safe feel of his palm wrapped around mine as we step inside and he hits the button for our floor.
It’s weird, holding his hand.
But also, weirdly right.
I’m not sure why he’s not angry with me, but he’s calm enough that I feel comfortable asking, “What are the puzzle pieces? Because I admit, I didn’t expect that guy to be a tiger shifter. As far as I know, Pax and Victor’s allies are all wolves. They’re pretty anti-cat, actually. They seem to buy into the ‘cats are lazy, selfish, and untrustworthy’ stereotype.”
He grunts. “It’s a stereotype for a reason.”
I shift to face him more fully as we zoom upwards. “Come on. You don’t really think that. Cat shifters are all different, just like wolves. I don’t know many cats, personally, but the ones I have met were really cool.” He arches a challenging brow and I admit, “Except the guy tonight. He was awful.”
“But you stood your ground and fought back.” His gaze sweeps up and down my frame as he gives my hand a squeeze. “You’re tougher than you look, little wolf.”
“Thanks,” I say, biting my lip as the elevator comes to a stop and we step out into the hall.
I expect him to release my hand, but he doesn’t, and I don’t mind.
In fact, I could see holding his hand quickly becoming one of my favorite things. I can’t remember that last time I felt so safe and…connected.
Things have definitely shifted between us, a fact he proves as he says, “Yes, the fact that at least one of the shifters who breached our defenses was a cat is strange.”
My brows shoot up. “There was more than one?”
“Yes, the young shifter who set off the bomb and later lit himself on fire.”
I wince in horror. “How awful.”
“Indeed,” he agrees. “And we spotted an incoming helicopter from the roof not long after the explosion, but it turned around before we could get a good look at who was inside. But it was a luxury aircraft. Very sleek, very expensive, even to rent. I don’t see why Pax and Victor would drop that much money to come fetch a wayward mate.”
I frown. “Well, they might have done it to show off, to show they’re as wealthy as you are, though I’m pretty sure they’re not, but…” I trail off with a shake my head. “But you’re right. It feels off. Why hire non-wolves and why turn this into an attack before they even tried to make a deal? They have to know that if this is pinned on them, it will be war between the two packs. And Victor isn’t ready for war. Our enforcers are spread too thin. He’s picked too many fights in the Parallel already and lost men he couldn’t afford to lose because of it.”
Maxim stops in front of an unfamiliar door. “So my spies tell me. But one piece of the puzzle does point to Blood River. When the bomb went off, it blew Venom all over the orchestra pit.”
I scowl as he touches his ring to the panel above the door handle. “What? That’s…weird. Why fill the bomb with Venom? It’s not going to hurt anyone unless they mix it with some sort of solvent and swallow it.”
“Maybe as a calling card.” He opens the door and motions me inside. “Maybe they wanted to make sure I knew who was responsible.”
“Maybe…” I step through, chewing on my lip as I pad barefoot through the cool marble entryway into a massive living space dominated by uber-masculine furniture in dark browns and grays arranged to face the floor-to-ceiling picture windows.
It’s much what I would have expected from a “Maxim” room, but the couch and chairs are overstuffed, plush, and thick blankets are draped over the ends of the couch and the arms of the chair.
It’s…cozy in a very manly, Alpha kind of way that’s sort of adorable.
“I like your place,” I say, turning to take in the big screen on the wall, what looks like a vintage record player in the corner, and a finely appointed bar set into the wall.
“Thank you,” he says, walking into the room from the entryway in a black satin robe. Thank. God. Partially clothed Maxim is much easier to talk to than Naked Maxim. “I decorated it myself.”
I smile. “Good.”
