Page 72 of Patrick’s Seduction

“We have forty-seven minutes.”

The soft grass that reached as far as the terrace and a couple of back doors swallowed the sound of their sneakers. Virginia pointed to one of the doors leading into the house. He nodded, and they walked toward it. In front of it, they stopped, and Virginia gave him a sign to remain outside while she passed through the door as if it was air. It was one of the other special skills only Stealth Guardians had—walking through anything solid except for lead. However, they could not make anybody else pass through solid objects.

Virginia was back in a few seconds. “Mudroom,” she whispered. “I unlocked the door from the inside.”

He quickly pushed the door open and entered, Virginia on his heels. She eased the door shut quietly. The first thing he noticed was the overwhelming smell of werewolves. Evidently, this was the room where they shed their clothes before they shifted and went for a run or a hunt—or whatever they did—in their wolf forms. The floor was dirty with leaves and soil. In one corner was an open shower area, most likely used to clean the dirt—or the blood—off them once they came back from their run.

Virginia motioned to the other door. It stood open and led into a hallway. Remaining silent, Patrick walked ahead. He could now hear voices and other sounds in the house. The smell of human food wafted to him, accompanied by the sound of cutlery and dishes clanging. Somebody was cooking lunch.

They walked by a door where the scent was at its strongest, and Patrick quickly looked inside without entering. A woman whose aura identified her as a werewolf was stirring something on the stove, while another female werewolf chopped salad or vegetables next to the sink. He couldn’t see the faces of either one, and they didn’t turn around, confirming that Wesley’s potion was effective in eliminating his and Virginia’s scent.

He heard sounds from the second floor. Somebody was walking up there, and the old wooden floor was creaking. Motioning to Virginia to follow him, he crossed the large wood-paneled foyer and headed for the room from which the voices came. The door was ajar, but not open wide enough for him to squeeze through.

Without a word, Virginia understood his predicament and used her preternatural skill of walking through solid objects to enter the room. A moment later, she peered back at him through the space between the door and frame and nodded. Slowly, she eased the door open wider and stepped aside to make room. Patrick squeezed through the space and entered, when the floor beneath his feet suddenly creaked.

36

Shortly after Patrick had left to meet up with Virginia to drive to Marin County, the door opened, and Isabelle appeared at the entrance to the office. Fallon jumped up, startled. Patrick hadn’t mentioned that he was expecting his sister. Instinctively, she tensed. Even though Isabelle had taken care of her when she’d thrown up the previous night and even held her hair back like a girlfriend would do, her werewolf instincts were trying to push to the surface, warning her that vampires were her enemies. She suppressed these instincts as best she could because her human side knew that Isabelle wouldn’t hurt her.

“Oh, hey, Isabelle. Patrick just left,” she managed to say without her voice shaking.

“I know.” She turned halfway, then addressed somebody in the hallway. “Ross? Are you coming with Mummy?”

A little boy waddled in, grinning. Since she didn’t have much contact with kids, she couldn’t be sure of his age, but he was definitely not of school age yet. He had a full head of dark brown hair and stunning green eyes like his mother.

When he spotted her, he walked toward her, tiny fangs suddenly descending as he opened his mouth. A soft hiss came from him.

“No, Ross, stop!” Isabelle said firmly and snatched him by the back of his sweater, lifting him up with one hand.

He peddled his feet, trying to escape from his mother’s grip, while he pointed at Fallon.

“You’re not human. But not a vampire.”

Isabelle turned him toward her so he had to look at her face. “Ross, didn’t I teach you to be polite?”

“But she’s not human, and she’s not like us,” he insisted and looked over his shoulder, pointing at her again. “What is she?”

“She’s a werewolf.”

“A wolf?” The little boy stared at her in disbelief. “You don’t look like a wolf.”

“I’m sorry,” Isabelle said quickly. “But he’s at that age where he’s so curious.”

“It’s okay,” Fallon said quickly, not wanting to embarrass her. “How old is he?”

“I’m four,” Ross replied and showed his palm with his thumb tucked in, indicating the number four. “And you?”

“I’m thirty-five.”

“That’s not old,” he said, sounding much more grown up than he was. “My daddy is over 100 years old.”

“I think I’ve seen your daddy before.” She shifted her gaze back to Isabelle. “Your mate is Orlando, the owner of the Mezzanine Patrick mentioned, right?”

A warm glow seemed to settle over Isabelle’s face when she answered, “Yes, Orlando is mine.”

The last word would have felt odd if a human had spoken it, but knowing what she now knew about vampires and their mates, she understood that the word wasn’t an exaggeration or a jealous declaration. No, it was a simple statement that everybody in their world accepted without question. Their world. It was strange to think that way. Yet within twenty-four hours everything in her own world had been turned upside down. Now she was living in their world, the world of supernatural creatures.

“Did Patrick ask you to look in on me?”