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Wright was still looking for the Nightwalker. Two nights ago, while Shea was still in the hospital, a Grayson officer patrolling during the overnight shift came upon a body three blocks away from Moonshadow Apothecary.
It was a human female, with long brown hair, dark green eyes, and a gaping throat.
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It wasn’t Evangeline but, according to Wright, it was as good as.
Julian was still taunting them. And, as soon as he could be sure that Shea was safe and sound in his home, Colt would go back out on the hunt with Wright.
For now, the furthest he could bring himself to go from her was right outside his house. Even the work shed was too far.
That was where he was right now. Shea woke up with a headache that even her healing abilities and feverfew capsules couldn’t get rid of. Colt panicked a little, sure that she was having a relapse. She called him a worry-wolf and told him she was just going to lay down on the couch for a while.
Colt took that as his cue to go outside for a breather; he made sure to put Dodge on invisible guard detail, then booked it out back. Alpha, he needed the fresh air. Ever since Shea walked into his home, her scent began to cover everything. The woodsy scent, the hint of baby powder, and the heady, delicious musk that she gave off way too often for his good intentions.
Unless he was just super sensitive to it, Colt thought he caught a whiff of it earlier. He decided it must’ve been wishful thinking because, seriously, who got horny and in the mood to mate when their head was throbbing?
Colt didn’t have a headache of his own, but, oh, was a part of him throbbing something fucking terrible.
As a distraction, he whipped out his phone and called his father. He didn’t think the old bastard would actually answer and he was just practicing what he’d say for the voicemail message when Terrence actually answered.
Colt filled him in on everything that had happened since his last call, focusing especially on the most recent body dumped inside of Grayson and the police’s response to it. In the mixed town, word had started to get out about the Nightwalker killers. It was just a leak right now, with Diaz in charge of keeping the peace, but the last female victim in the middle of the downtown area had caught some attention.
Which—besides making a statement for Wright—was probably what Julian was after.
“That’s all business,” rumbled Terrence when Colt was done. “How about you, boy? How’s your mating coming along?”
“I’ve got Shea in my house,” Colt admitted. “We’re giving it a try. I’m not promising anything, but it’s looking good.”
“Glad to hear it. I always thought you were being thick-headed, thinking you could beat fate. Better shifters than you have tried and failed.”
There wasn’t something in the way his father said that that had his wolf paying attention. His father was absolutely devoted to his mate and, as far as Colt knew, always had been.
“Dad?”
“Ah, don’t worry about that. Worry about your mother instead. She’s going to want to meet your witch sooner or later.”
His mother? Definitely sooner. “Yeah. I know.”
Hey, he survived meeting Kallista Moonshadow. Compared to the powerful witch that was Shea’s grandmother, his wolf shifter mom was damn near Betty Crocker. Shea would be fine.
“You’ve got some more time. Mate the witch and find that corpse, would ya already? I need my best architect back on-site.”
“You got it, Dad.”
“Good. Well, I’m gonna go now. Your mother and I are going to stop by the old cabin, check on your brother and his mate.”
Maddox and Evangeline? What was going on with them?
Before Colt could ask, the call disconnected.
He shrugged, then whirled when he sensed someone at his back, throwing his phone to the dirt as he flexed his fingers, unsheathing his claws.
Dodge flicked his derby up so that Colt could see it when he raised an eyebrow. “You alright, pal?”
So he was a little on edge. Sue him.
Sexual tension was a bitch.
