Page 19 of Craving Their Mate


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Remember, this is a business meeting, not a date! Sheesh.

Then why had she spent so much time deciding what to wear? Paris told herself it was because the restaurant was rather upscale, so jeans and a T-shirt would not be appropriate. Neither would some low-cut, tight-fitting top and slacks either. Besides, she didn’t want to give them the wrong impression.

In the end, she went with navy blue slacks, a white silk blouse, and a small heart necklace that had been a gift from her mom when Paris graduated from college. That piece of jewelry was appropriate for a business meeting.

She waved at the two men who looked way too handsome. Rider had on black slacks and a white button-down shirt open at the throat, while Grayson wore gray pinstripe pants and a pale blue shirt. They both looked like they had just come from a model shoot.

She walked up to them, trying not to drool. “Hey. I’m glad you found the place.”

That was a dumb thing to say. Anyone could have put the address in their phone.

“Ready to chow?” Grayson nodded to the restaurant.

When the hostess led them to a quiet corner and then removed a reserved sign, Paris had the sense that the men had asked for the secluded table. It implied they wanted to talk about some fairly sensitive topics, which was fine by her.

Rider had been the one to pull out the chair for her, yet she’d pegged Grayson as being the more gentlemanly type. Paris was beginning to realize she’d been wrong about a lot of things. Rider sat down and then waved to the server.

Grayson faced her. “What would you like to drink? Wine? Beer? A soft drink?”

Since she wanted to keep her wits around her, drinking wouldn’t be smart. It didn’t matter that because she was part werewolf, alcohol didn’t affect her as much as it did a human. “Just coffee.”

Paris was pleased when neither man tried to persuade her to indulge.

The server came over to take their drink orders. “The lady will have coffee, and I’ll have a whiskey, neat,” Rider said.

“I’ll have whatever beer you have on tap,” Grayson said. Once the server left, he faced her. “May I say you look lovely.”

That didn’t sound very businesslike to her, but maybe they were trying to calm her nerves. “Thanks. So what intel have you two gathered that makes you think Harrison Industries is distributing drugs?” She kept her voice low.

Rider looked over at Grayson. Considering how long it took for him to answer, the two of them werediscussingwhat to say.

“We don’t have any—yet. It’s why the general sent us. However, we believe that Richard Delancey has ties to a group called the Colters,” Rider said.

The name Richard Delancey sent goose bumps racing up her arms. “I’ve not heard of these Colters. Are they some kind of drug cartel?”

“Kind of, but they are also a lot more.” Rider explained that the main Colter cell was in the US. “Florida to be exact. They’ve been around for probably a hundred and fifty years. Back in the day, they were a group of bad werewolves, started by a man by the name of Jack Colter who robbed banks for a living. As time wore on, and more joined his clan, the shifters turned to human trafficking, drugs, and slavery.”

“And you think Delancey is a Colter?”Way to pick a man, Mom.

“We have no proof, but his half-brother was one,” Rider said.

She was fascinated by the connection to this group of Colters. “Where is this half-brother now?”

“He’s dead. He experimented on woman in order to create super werewolves.”

She sucked in a breath. “That’s terrible. I'm glad he's dead. I’m guessing he tested the drug on himself?”

“He did. We know for a fact that he gave the enhancement potion to two of our Pack members who were working undercover at the time. I’ve seen them in action, and I have to say they are a force to be reckoned with.”

“Whoa. Can you two get a hold of the stuff?”

Rider smiled. “We don’t need it.” He lifted a finger. “Okay, we might benefit from it, but we don’t know the long-term effects of the drug or how long it lasts. Even if it has no bad side effects, we don’t have access to it.”

“I wonder if Harrison Industries could make some?” she asked.

“Suppose they did. The general population doesn’t even know werewolves exist. Assuming Paul Statler gave the formula to his brother, it would have to be packaged in such a way to fool most people.”

“You’re right, and it’s not like they’d sell it in the local pharmacy,” she said.

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