Page 22 of License to Kill

Amelia snickered and gestured at my outfit—what there was of it. Of the choices I had, the sports bra and spandex shorts offered me the most mobility, a choice Amelia had mimicked. “Without clothes.”

“You had enough firepower to start a siege but not a single bullet-proof vest. You realize that’s insane, right?”

“Well, I am a Fenerec, and I’m old enough I don’t need a vest. And we put this together in a hurry. The ops were out of vests.”

“Well, I’m not invincible.” I had no idea what I was, but a Fenerec wasn’t it; Fenerec came in one form: wolves.

Foxes, while similar in some regards to wolves, weren’t wolves. I grimaced at yet another reminder of the argument between me, Jake, and his family. At the end of the day, I had lost; I wasn’t actually a part of their pack, and never would be.

I wasn’t one of them.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Sore subject.”

“It’s not your fault I’m not a wolf.”

“It’s not your fault you’re a fox, either. Maybe you’re not a Fenerec, but you’re something—something that’s keeping you on your feet when Normals would be in the hospital having transfusions. And anyway, when you rescue your mate and his parents, you’ll prove a fox is just as valuable as a wolf.”

“Chances are, he’s still pissed at me and won’t even care. I did walk out on him, after all.”

Amelia snorted. “Don’t count on that. You had a fight because he couldn’t convince his parents to let you into the pack and he got too close to other women. That’s on him, and he should have known better. Shit happens. At the end of the day, you’re a mated pair. He likely regretted every last word he said the instant you walked out the door, even if you stated you were divorcing him. And don’t doubt it for a second—you had every reason to walk out. He was going on some assignment without you, he wasn’t telling you a word, and wasn’t even listening to your input. Then to come home smelling like women during said assignment? I’d have walked, too. Now, that said, he’s your mate, and he’ll chase you to the ends of the Earth to win you back. There’s really no such thing as divorce among Fenerec, and once everyone realizes you’re not a traditional mated pair, it’ll work out. He’ll take steps to get you back, and you’ll put up a fight over it because you have trust issues.”

“We’ll see about that. Last I checked, none of them think we’re actually mates, as I refuse to just roll over and do the blind trust thing. For all I know, his damned assignment was in a fucking brothel.”

I hadn’t smelled sex on him, but that was something he could have solved with a shower before coming home.

“Give him a chance—and give yourself a chance, too. You’ll be surprised how tunes can change when a pack member is hurt by a stupid decision, and in that, foxes are no different from wolves. We both need packs.”

“Or skulks,” I grumbled.

“Or skulks,” she agreed. “Now, let’s clean house and survive. There’s no point in worrying about problems that don’t exist yet, and we have bigger fish to fry.”

That we did. I nodded, firmed my grip on my automatic rifle, and followed Amelia to the doorway leading into the building.

The warehouse served double-duty as a factory, and the doorway exited onto a catwalk over a halted assembly line. Boxes waited on the conveyor belt, already sealed. I frowned, pressed my back to the wall, and scanned the room.

My fear of being so high up came second to the smoldering anger that Jake had become involved with the same people trying to kill me for interfering with their plans, using my ma to get the job done.

One certainty rose over all the rest: assuming I didn’t kick the bucket, I needed therapy.

“Smell anything?” I whispered.

“Faint traces of Fenerec and a lot of stinky humans—there’s definitely been a few Fenerec here, but the scent is faint.”

“They must be deeper inside the building.”

“Holed up or held hostage somewhere.”

“Assuming they’re alive,” I muttered. They likely were; if the FBI believed they were dead, they would have assaulted the building already. I wondered why HRT hadn’t already begun an assault. Their entire job involved rescuing people from hostage situations.

“You may not be a Fenerec, but I’m willing to bet you’d know if your mate died. He’s alive. We’re tough to kill.”

“You’re sure there’s only three FBI agents in the building?”

Amelia tapped her earpiece. “I’ve been listening in on their channels; there’s no evidence of any agents other than them in the building. If it isn’t your mate or his parents, kill them.”

“How are they getting their intel?”

“Text messages; at least one of their phones is still operational. I think they’ve been keeping all but one device off. Some of their communications are in code, so I’m making guesses.”