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And he wasn’t completely fooled. He knew Shea’s influence on her gruff mate when he saw it. He’d lost track of how many times she subtly slipped working with Colt into their conversations when he stopped by the apothecary.
At first, she thought he might want to help him out with the construction gig. Since that meant dealing with the new Alpha more often than Adam liked—with Maddox Wolfe, even once was more than he liked—he refused. Seemed like her new approach was getting Adam to agree to help Colt out with his side job.
Ah, yes.
That would have to be—
“No.”
“Adam—”
“No way. Sorry.”
When Colt’s eyes paled at Adam’s adamant refusal, an eerie light blue sheen rolling over them, Shea moved out in front of him.
Brave witch.
“Adam,” she said softly, easily snagging the attention of both men. “Hear him out. Please.”
Okay. But only because it was Shea who had asked him. “Fine.”
“It wouldn’t be every night,” Colt cut in. “Maybe two or three times a week, couple of hours a night. Like I said, I’ll provide the van because Alpha knows your two-seater will barely fit a dresser inside of it. I’ll throw some money at you, though we both know your stubborn ass will refuse it. You’ll take it, I’ll be satisfied this is a job and not a favor, and you’ll still be free to do…” Colt paused, letting the silence speak volumes. “... whatever it is you do at night. Deal?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Of course you do,” Shea said warmly. “It’s just a suggestion.”
But that was Shea.
One look in Colt’s icy blue eyes and Adam realized that the determined shifter would get what he wanted one way or another. And while he didn’t really understand why the mated couple cared so much about keeping him busy, he figured, “What the hell? Okay. Let’s see how it works out.”
And if it didn’t? At least he tried.
He owed Shea that much.
Apart from Tabitha, he didn’t know any other slayers. And since going back to her place after the way he lost control and fucking bit her last time seemed like a monumentally bad idea all around, Adam had to come up with another alternative.
It wasn’t long before he had one.
When Corporal Adam Wright first quit the force, he didn’t see how he had any choice but to give up being a cop. His entire precinct was human-only, so even if he wanted to stay, he didn’t want to be the token Para.
Since March, he’d cut ties with every cop he worked with—except one. It wasn’t his choice, either; if Adam had it his way, he would’ve ditched them all. Detective Luis Diaz was a good man, a family man, and the one guy who kept in touch even when Adam made it clear that he didn’t want to be bothered.
He was also the one who warned Adam about slayers in the first place. Maybe, just maybe, he might know enough about the paranormal hunters to send Adam in the right direction of the elixir.
Before he could change his mind or talk himself out of it, Adam picked up his phone, dialing the number from memory. He specifically made the call during daylight hours so that he didn’t disturb Diaz at home. Adam knew that Diaz was devoted to his wife and, if he wanted the older cop’s help, it would be best to remember that Diaz was human.
The phone answered on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Lou. Hi.”
“Adam! How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been alright. Listen. Remember that joint we checked out a couple of months back?”
“Yeah.”
“You think you could meet me there?”
