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“I’m not crazy, I’m enlightened. Come on, think of the clusterfucks you’re dealing with right now. You think it’s a coincidence that such chaos reigns so near to Damian? Nu-uh. He probably even targeted you to get to me. Satan’s son only weaves his darkest spells when I’m there to suffer the impact.”
Yep, she was a freaking nut for sure. “I really don’t think Damian had a hand in any of this.”
“Ha! You, silly mortal, underestimate how deep the recesses of his evil power go.” There was the sound of muffled voices in the background, and then Elle said, “Grams wants me for something. Gotta go. If Dani or anyone else turns up at the house to give you shit, just pick up the phone, I’ll be right over.”
“Thanks, Elle. You’re awesome.”
“I’m well-aware of that,” said the redhead, all haughty. “It was never in question.”
Bree chuckled. “Talk to you later. Tell Ingrid I said hi.” She rung off and put her cell on the patio table. Sitting in her backyard often relaxed her. Of course, it would be a lot more relaxing if she wasn’t conscious that enforcers were guarding the house, two of whom patrolled the wooded area behind it.
Being closely protected twenty-four/seven was reassuring on one level, but it also galled the shit out of her and made her feel edgy. She wasn’t worried about the hyenas coming for her—having the opportunity to kick their asses would be awesome—but their determination to get hold of her was somewhat alarming. What did they want with Paxton? Why did they want to contact him so badly?
What bugged her more was the simple yet frustrating fact that she couldn’t walk into her own home without worrying she’d find that something had been planted there. So far, there’d been no more “gifts,” and no one appeared to have broken into the house at any point—which was probably thanks to the enforcers guarding the place.
Or it could be because the culprit was Calvin, who was being so closely watched that he surely wouldn’t risk making anymore weird moves. She was clinging to that theory, but she didn’t fully believe it.
Her inner feline shoved against her skin, straining to be free so she could enjoy the yard. Figuring the restless cat could do with some time to play and explore, Bree placed her glass beside her phone on the table. Half an hour would be enough to soothe her cat’s nerves.
Standing, she shed her clothes, neatly piled them on the rattan chair, and took a long breath. Then she gave her feline freedom.
The cat did a long, languid stretch, scraping her claws along the wooden boards of the deck. Her nose wrinkled at the scents of flower blooms, spicy herbs, and sun-warmed rock.
The cat leaped off the deck and padded over the prickly grass, ignoring the tickle of flower stems. She played. Explored. Chased insects. Hissed at birds. Rubbed up on the pots and planters to scent-mark her territory. Dragged things in and out of her rockery.
A short while later, she felt her human half push for supremacy, reminding her that her time was up. Letting out a disgruntled growl, the cat hopped out of the rockery. And a dark, net dropped over her body, trapping her.
Impatience battering him, Alex prowled down the street toward the cul-de-sac. The whole trip had been a complete waste of time. On one level, he was impressed that the hyenas had managed to keep the location of their territory a secret. On the other level, he was pissed, because the person they had set their sights on was Bree. His Bree.
He scanned the streets and rooftops as he walked. He knew Vinnie, his sons, and the enforcers were on the ball, but Alex would be on edge right up until the hyenas were found.
He also made a point of watching out for any signs of Paxton. If the guy was back, he obviously wasn’t content with sticking to the shadows any longer. He hadn’t publicly revealed himself, no, but he wasn’t operating under the radar either.
Rounding the corner of the cul-de-sac, Alex frowned as he noticed two of Bree’s guards subduing a struggling male. Alex jogged over to them. And smelled hyena. He growled. “What the fuck’s going on?”
“He’s been hanging on the corner, watching Bree’s house,” said one of the enforcers. “As soon as we casually walked over to have a little talk with him, he ran. Not fast enough, though. We dragged him back here.”
“I called Vinnie,” the second enforcer said to Alex. “He’s on his way.”
“I’m telling you, I don’t know who this Bree girl is!” their captive claimed. He was surprisingly young. Barely a juvenile, really.
The first enforcer arched a brow. “Oh, is that so?”
“Yes!” the hyena insisted. “Some couple approached me in the street and paid me to stand on the corner and stare at that house over there,” he added, casting a hard glance at Bree’s home.
