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The moment Harper cocked her head in confusion, Imogen blew out a breath and looked like she was contemplating not telling her.
She stared at Imogen, daring her to lie or walk away without telling her anything.
Imogen sighed in defeat. “There appears to be a traitor working in Nick’s department. Perdy determined that the messages originated from a team member working with Nick. At the moment, they are being cautious. The traitor’s identity is unknown, but we know it’s human.”
“Ah,” Harper replied, tucking her head down.
Twisting her hands together, she discreetly slipped them into her back pockets. It was understandable why Nick was being cautious. The stupidly sweet male was worried about her; he was likely shocked; it must have struck him hard.
“How’s Nick doing?” she asked calmly when she felt anything but calm.
That was a typical question to ask, right?
She could feel a roar that rivalled her Alphas pushing up her throat. She wanted to race out of the forest and seek out the traitor, then strangle him for betraying Nick. Those sudden violent images thrust into her mind almost made her flinch.
Her desperation to know drew Imogen’s attention. Imogen cocked her brow and asked, “Why?”
“He must have been shocked?”
“Yes,” Imogen agreed, looking down at her watch. “Just keep your distance from the hub. Drey planned to inform everyone to be careful tomorrow and stay in groups. I promised him I would ensure you were safe because I lived nearby.” Imogen’s brows slashed down, and she crossed her arms. “We’ll find out who it is.”
“I know you will,” she replied, confident her people would protect them all.
“I have a meeting with the Alpha soon, but Drey said you can move into his home if you’re concerned.” Imogen shrugged, shoulders relaxed and face free of worry. “He’s leaving his lounge and bedroom open to anyone who wants to stay.”
“Thanks a lot. I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied, a grin tipping her lips up.
Clara and Drey would certainly sleep on the mezzanine level. Drey redesigned it into a cosy love nest. It had been his chill-out zone before, and now his people know it’s their Alphas and his mate.
They could almost smell a sharp warning if they stepped into their area on the mezzanine level. All Numbers commented on it when they poked their heads up there. Except for Drey, everyone could detect the repellent scent, and when they realised that he couldn’t smell anything, it became an amusing joke.
Imogen saluted her and sprang away quickly, her trim legs pounding the root-riddled footpath.
She rubbed her hands together, her lips drawing in a tight line. There was no way she was going to sit at home while Nick dealt with this on his own.
He always did everything alone. He was responsible for Karen alone, ran for mayor alone, and dealt with AimTech secrecy and politics alone.
Before putting together a security team made up of people he trusted, he was alone. The pain of betrayal must be ripping him apart and leaving him hollow.
Her stomach sank. She fisted her hands.
She wouldn’t allow Nick to sit alone and drink. She knew what Nick was like. He would blame himself. Bringing his team here and putting others at risk, including his great nephew, would make him feel wretched because he trusted them to work for Numbers.
He would consider himself responsible.
No matter what anyone said, he would always see it that way. It might be difficult for him right now to listen to reason. However, even if all he wanted to do was drink, he didn’t have to do that alone.
Her mind made up, she stepped out of the lusciously blooming garden and locked the gate behind her to keep out Clara’s eager cow, Betty, whose overenthusiastic investigations trampled her delicate flower stems or nibbled at the edges of her tasty plants.
The mosquitoes hovered above the myriad of flowers and forest, ready to divebomb at any moment. Moving quickly, her feet slapped against the solid wooden steps. In the morning, sunlight blanketed the porch with scorching warmth, but the second-story bedroom pitched over it and provided welcome shade by afternoon.
She drifted through the open oak door and headed for her bedroom. She strolled past her white and wood country kitchen and silver and gold plush lounge area. The rich and lavish furnishings welcomed her home and almost seemed to silently beg her to fall into their cloud-like embrace.
Her crowning glory, adorned with a display of glorious gardenias and sweet honeysuckles, was an antique round wood table covered in a delicate lace cloth with matching high-backed chairs.
As she walked across the hall to the bathroom, she grabbed a pair of underwear that matched the trousers she had in mind almost exactly.
She wandered across to the bathroom and pulled the blinds, which snapped down with a swoosh. Green and lemon pastel tiles were a warm colour made welcoming by the large silver clawfoot tub.
