Page 39 of Brock’s Mate

DB casually flipped him the bird. It was easy to see he was comfortable with Brock—with both of them. That was a good thing—at least he had a couple of people he could turn to if he needed them. Well, kind-of people.

Desi said, “It’s true. Unlike some people I could mention. He didn’t lock me in a cage, or dive on me naked in the back seat of a car, or anything.”

Nick and DB both folded their arms and turned identical interested looks on Brock.

Brock rolled his eyes. “It’s not the way she’s making it sound.”

“Uh-huh,” DB said.

Nick said, “Of course not. Well, we’ll just leave you to it, then.”

He walked over and clapped Brock on the back with his transparent hand. “See you when we see you. Keep in touch.”

He pulled a necklace from around his neck and handed it to Brock—a gold coin hanging from a leather thong. Desi was interested to see that it somehow turned real and solid when Brock took it.

Brock said, “What are you going to tell the crew?”

“That you’re shacked up with a hot babe, of course.” Nick winked at Desi. “What else?”

Chapter 15

After his interfering sex-and-mates-on-the-brain crew members left, Brock cleaned himself up, grateful that he always kept several changes of clothes here.

He was also grateful for his crew, even when they gave him shit. It was good to know they had his back if he needed them. Which he wouldn’t.

Because Desi wasn’t his mate. Couldn’t be. He would help her, she’d move on, and it would be over.

When he was clean and presentable, he settled down in the living room with his computer and an untraceable internet hotspot he kept at the house.

According to his tracking software, Michael DiSantos’ van had been moved from Desi’s rented cabin in the middle of the night. He traced its route about three-quarters of the way to Louisville, and then… it disappeared.

So either DiSantos or his people had found the tracker and removed it, or the van had been destroyed, or it had been taken to a secure location where electronic signals were blocked.

Interesting.

He pulled up a map of the area. Mostly strip malls, but there was also a small industrial park with a number of warehouses and factories that could hide a van or three—and an Enforcer operation, rogue or otherwise.

Once more, he debated cautiously checking his Enforcer contacts to see if there was anything classified going on in his area, but decided to hold off.

That would connect him with Desi, and might bring awkward questions.

Next he tried checking the van’s rental plate. It traced back to a no-name rental company, owned by what looked like a shell company. Owned by another shell company.

Great. An internet rabbit hole.

As he prepared to start digging, Desi came down the stairs, carrying a carved wooden box he remembered seeing in her bag. It was about a foot square and maybe three inches high. On top of it he saw the scarf-wrapped bundle he’d made out of the broken remains of her pottery dish.

As he watched out of the corner of his eye, she put the box on the dining table and unpacked what looked like small tools and a pot of some kind of glue, and set about repairing the dish.

So it did mean something to her. Brock was glad he hadn’t thrown the pieces away.

He went on with his internet search, but he kept getting distracted by Desi. She worked with quiet intensity, concentrating totally on what she was doing, her movements deft and economical.

She’d obviously done this many times before. He wondered how she managed to break that much china.

He also wondered if Jered and DiSantos were connected, or if they were two separate enemies. It would sure as hell help to know that.

It would also help to know more about this Jered person in general. A lone wolf? But she’d called Brock ‘one of them.’ So… a group, that weren’t above capturing women as mates and Turning them? And—considering her pain-shock talent—were they specifically targeting women with witch blood? Maybe thinking it would give them a better chance of surviving the Change?