Page 59 of Bonded Through Bite

Fucking wolves.

They better be here fast and get on with business. I dress quickly, just a dry pair of jeans and a simple black shirt, since I don’t want to risk dog hair on my slacks. It’s usually a half an hour drive from the pack land to here, but in this weather, it could take longer. I glance at the clock. It’s been thirty minutes since I called. I bet I could have stayed in that shower a moment longer.

Just to make sure I don’t end up in the shower again, I force myself to head downstairs to wait. My mind tries to sort out all the things I need to focus on, but it all circles back to Samantha’s soft expression and her hand reaching for Santiago. After you told her to stay with him, the nagging voice reminds me.

Well, she could have put up a little bit of a fight.

Yeah, right. Like she would complain about staying with the man who screwed her brains out.

He could screw your brains out too, the nag at the back of my head suggests and I groan. Meeting the pack with a painful hard-on is not ideal. Meeting the pack after my brains have been turned to the same level of mush as Samantha’s would sadly not accomplish anything.

The broken door still hangs off its hinges in the lobby. I still need to fix that. And restock the fridge. Or call Marcus so he knows to bring food for himself when he returns. I’m not fucking dusting this place. A little hitch in my plans is the fact that I don’t think I can tolerate him close to Samantha.

My steward, while fully trustworthy, is a good-looking mage. Still, he needs to fix the protective spells Samantha is so fond of breaking. Pacing in the front lobby, I push my jealousy aside and try to focus on the questions I need answers to.

How can Samantha smash past enchantment-protected doors like they are nothing? Why didn’t compulsion work on her when she was a human? She folded under my command, but I’m her sire; it’s different. Maybe we should test it out with Santiago.

Why can she only drink from me? Can she only drink from me? I’m not sure I want an answer to that one. Maybe the witch could research anomalies in the drinking patterns next.

Oh fuck! I haven’t let Thea know Samantha is awake. I need to call her⁠—

A car door slamming jolts me out of my thoughts and I step outside. Four cars sit in the driveway, eight wolves, like we agreed, but I raise my brow at the blue sports car and its occupant. There was no mention of a witch and I don’t take kindly to surprises.

“Who the fuck is that?” I growl at the wolf standing closest to me. Thea is the exception to the rule, and I still don’t like her. We have a mutual interest and incentive to work together. That doesn’t mean I’m going to allow other witches on my lands.

“She’s under pack protection,” he responds, hackles rising.

“I don’t care if she’s under the protection of the Holy Pope. She is on my land, unannounced.”

“Easy, Jere,” the alpha steps in when the pup goes to flex his muscle. “We apologize, Mr. Moretti. She’s part of the issue we wish to discuss with you and, for safety reasons, her presence couldn’t be disclosed over the phone.”

“Safety is surely going to be an issue.” I glare, not willing to back down an inch.

“Please, Mr. Moretti. She will stay in the car, unless you give your okay for her to join us.”

Internally, I seethe. I can’t very well leave her unsupervised out here when I show the body to the pack. Santiago could babysit her, but that would leave Samantha unguarded and that’s unacceptable.

Some of my seething must have leaked, since the alpha lifts his hand in a placating gesture and takes half a step back. He’s acting suspiciously calm. Usually the wolves are volatile, full of bravado and bluff like the pup who’s still giving me the stink eye.

“Tell me what you wanted to discuss,” I say, making a snap decision. I’ll hear them out and then decide if I will show them the body. Associating with witches is one thing; dragging one onto my land is another.

“Of course, Mr. Moretti. We appreciate your willingness to listen,” the alpha says and even the pup seems to lose some of the bluster. So they want something from me. Why am I not surprised?

“Go on,” I urge when he stays silent.

“There’s trouble. Well, there always is, but not like this. Females are disappearing from the packs.”

“What?” I interrupt, chill running down my spine.

“Not just wolves, shifters of all kinds. We finally contacted the witches to see if they could help. Scrying or some shit like that, that would show us who is behind this,” he grumbles, pointing toward the witch in the car. “What we didn’t expect to hear was that some witches have gone missing too. For some time now, from what I could gather. She wasn’t overly forthcoming.”

“And what has this to do with me?” I narrow my eyes and the alpha lifts his hands again.

“Nothing. But we were hoping to see if you were willing to make inquiries among the bloodsuckers—ah, I mean, the vampire community, to see if any of your females have gone missing.”

I mull that over. I have the necessary connections to send the feelers out, but is the wolf truly being sincere? That’s the question. Ironically, his slip about bloodsuckers makes me feel better. He doesn’t really like me, no matter how cordial he’s acting right now.

“How many women?”