Page 25 of New Blood

“What do you need?”

“I’d like you to keep an eye on the house and the goings-on. And while you’re at it, put together a floor plan. I want to know where everybody’s room is. I think we should make sure that at least one person from our team is on each floor of the main house and the side wing.”

“I suppose you don’t want me to ask Flora for that information, do you?”

“You suppose correctly. Maybe Priscilla can tell you. She works in the house. She should know where everybody’s room is.”

“Consider it done.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

16

“You want me to drive?” Thaddeus asked.

“You know the way,” Mason replied as they left the house. “Give me a week, and I’ll know my way around here, too, but until then, you get to drive.”

“Alright, we’ll squeeze into my car.”

“Squeeze in? What do you drive?”

Thaddeus pointed to a black sports car parked in the front driveway.

“A Porsche Boxster? Is that the new model?” Mason let his eyes roam over the sleek two-seater and whistled appreciatively.

“Yep,” Thaddeus admitted and clicked the remote to unlock the car. “Jump in.”

Mason didn’t need to be told twice. He opened the passenger side door and slunk into the leather seat that molded to his back. He’d always enjoyed fast cars, particularly German and Italian ones, even though they weren’t always practical in a place like Montana, where an SUV made more sense due to rough terrain and snowy conditions.

Thaddeus entered the car, his tall, slender body fitting perfectly behind the steering wheel. Mason took a moment to check him out more thoroughly. He was the youngest of William Gallagher’s children. According to the file that Jude had shared during the flight from Bozeman, he was thirty-two years old. However, his fine features made him look younger. His almost black hair was slightly wavy, his light-blue eyes striking. Together with his five o’clock shadow, chiseled chin, and naturally red lips, he was a handsome man. Not rugged at all, not like his own looks.

Compared to Thaddeus, Mason was the kind of guy others asked to help wrangle a horse or pull a car out of a ditch. A hands-on, always-getting-dirty kind of man with calluses on his hands. He couldn’t be more different from Thaddeus if he’d tried.

The roaring of the engine made him realize that he hadn’t put his seatbelt on, so he reached for it and clicked it in place. When the car moved forward, his back was pressed into the seat, a feeling he’d always loved, because it reminded him of the sensation of a lover pressing him into the sheets or against a hard surface. There was something sensual about that, and coupled with the vibrations of the Porsche’s engine, it awakened the side of him that controlled his carnal desires. The side that was so very different from his shell, from the exterior everybody saw and knew.

There was silence between them until they left the estate behind and headed for the freeway.

“Jude called you Storm. Is that your last name?” Thaddeus asked over the humming of the engine.

“I don’t know my actual last name. I was a foundling, dumped at a ranch in Montana. Jude’s aunt and uncle raised me.”

They’d been the best parents any kid could have wanted. The perfect ones, because they’d instantly recognized him as a werewolf by his scent, even though werewolf offspring didn’t shift until they hit puberty.

“They named me Mason Beaumont, but when they realized that I was like a thunderstorm wherever I showed up, causing chaos and pandemonium without even trying, they nicknamed me Storm. Guess it stuck.”

Thaddeus gave a short chuckle. “Not the worst nickname.”

“No, not the worst.”

In fact, it had always felt like a badge of honor—and distracted anybody from figuring out what lay beneath his wild guy exterior. To add to that, he’d cultivated his reputation as a womanizer like somebody would grow a pretty garden: planting seeds and pruning plants without ever having the desire to reap the harvest.

“How about you? Any nicknames?” Mason asked casually.

He was here not just to find out how the Gallagher businesses functioned, but first and foremost to get to know the pack members. In his case, it meant trying to figure out what secrets Thaddeus kept that could come biting Jude and his team in the ass in the future. Danger could come from anybody. While they’d eliminated the tip of the proverbial iceberg by killing Cameron and removing the old alpha from the equation, there could be others in the pack that had enabled Cameron and William and had no intention of changing their ways. They were a security risk just the same.

“No nicknames.”

Was this resentment that lay in Thaddeus’s answer? He couldn’t tell for sure. Sensing that Thaddeus wasn’t interested in talking about something so personal, he decided on a different approach.