“Apparently Smith just bought a cottage there with the proviso he could be in it this weekend.”
Sam frowned as he zipped up his jeans. “So they’re pretty sure this is the place?”
Isaac shrugged. “I assume so. I guess none of the other places turned up anything.”
Glancing up at the now-dark sky, Sam sighed. “And they need us because Smith could be a shifter by the time they find him.”
Fully clothed, they followed Isaac to his SUV, only to find two there waiting with Nick leaning against the door of the second.
“They asked for as many people as we could spare,” Isaac offered. “I figured another beta should do it. At the worst, there’s going to be Wilson and Smith to deal with. I think between five of us, we can handle them easily enough.”
Sam nodded, then walked towards Nick. “You three go together. I’ll travel with Nick and bring him up to speed on the way.”
The thought of someone else knowing the mess he and Harry had made of things sucked, but on the other hand, Aaron was surprised Nick didn’t already know. He felt a new wave of respect for his Alpha and was forever grateful he and Harry had ended up in this pack and not under an alpha like Stephen Newell. The thought made him shudder—they’d all heard the stories about the late Primrose Hill alpha.
As they set off, excitement curled in Aaron’s belly, despite the grim reason for their going. At least he’d get to see Michael again. And if they found Smith and Wilson, and could prove who’d killed those three people, the case would be closed and Aaron wouldn’t be part of it any more. Then he could see Michael without anything coming between them.
Do I want that?
He closed his eyes, head resting against the seat back, and tried to remember Michael’s scent, the way he’d felt pressed against him the last time they kissed.
Yes, I want that again.
They’d barely scratched the surface, but Aaron knew deep in his bones that it could be good between them. Better than anything else he’d experienced so far if he went on instinct alone. The residual ache left by their brief encounter had faded, but it was still there, tucked behind his ribs and Aaron clung to it, not willing to let go.
They just needed to get this next part over with and then he’d convince Michael they had something worth pursuing. An SCTF member and a shifter weren’t going to have an easy ride, but then, nothing worthwhile was ever easy.
Aaron stayed sat with his head tilted back as Harry chatted to Isaac in the front of the car. They were in for a two-hour journey from what Isaac had said, and Aaron already knew it would feel like a lot longer.
The pull of the moon still called to him, but the run had helped calm his wolf enough for him to settle into his seat and not fidget. With Smith being a newly turned shifter, who knew how he’d handle his first full moon? And Wilson? Had he been kept sedated all this time? Restrained? Or had he just decided to fuck over his pack and join Smith? Either way, Aaron hoped the police had enough sense not to go into that house before Aaron and his pack members arrived. Guns or not, things could easily turn nasty.
* * * * *
They arrived just over an hour and forty-five minutes after setting off. Frank did the driving. Miller and Price sat in the back.
“Told you you had a lead foot.” Michael grimaced, peeling his fingers off the grab handle above the door.
Frank grunted. “We’re in a hurry, aren’t we?”
The sky had darkened considerably. This far out of London the stars shone clearly in the sky. “Yeah, we are.”
Arlington had given them strict orders not to enter Smith’s house without either the Clapham Common pack or the alpha council members as backup. Both were en route. It was a toss-up as to who would arrive first.
Pulling to a stop on the road a little way down from Smith’s cottage, Frank gripped the steering wheel and sighed. “This is ridiculous. We’ve handled shifters before. It’s what we’re trained for. Why do we need babysitters?”
Shrugging, Michael peered out through the windscreen, straining to see anything up ahead. “We don’t know how many of his bodyguards Smith has with him. Or if Wilson’s a prisoner or an accomplice. He’s just erring on the side of caution.”
“Hmm.”
Stewart and Bridgford pulled up behind them. Bridgford got out and walked over to knock on their window, so Frank lowered it.
“What’s the plan?” he asked.
Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, Frank said, “Think you can get a look at the house, check for signs of life without being seen?” All the houses along this road were set far enough back that you couldn’t easily see the road.
“Sure.” Bridgford grinned. “Better than you two idiots, anyway.”
Michael gave him the finger, making Bridgford laugh. He ducked below the hedge that ran along the edge of the gardens butting up to the pavement and hunched over as he jogged down to the end of Smith’s—he really should think of him as White—driveway. According to the description the estate agent had sent them, the drive was about forty feet long and curved around to the left. Bridgford should be able to get a decent look at the house without giving himself away.
