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“What’s the deal with this agency you want Zeven to join?”
He didn’t look back at her but did answer. “I don’t want him to join Division Eight.”
That surprised her. “Why not? He’s probably as good as anyone at killing. Isn’t that what you said your agency does?”
“I don’tnotwant him to join. I don’t give a shit what he does.”
“He’s your brother.” Was it just her imagination? The emotion behind his words didn’t match up with what he was saying. Which was more likely the truth? She wanted to trust in his worried reaction instead of his pretended neutrality.
“Zeven is a killer through and through. He is more rogue than most of those we are sent to eliminate. I seriously doubt he will be able to handle the strict rules of Division Eight and I will be the one who pays for his every mistake in judgment.” He finally turned to look at her. “Killing him would simplify my life. I am a simple man. I like simple things.”
If she hadn’t known Zeven, she might have been frightened by Deven’s tough act. As it was, the similarity just made her ache to be back in Zeven’s arms as soon as possible. “That’s the funny thing about family. It never is simple.”
She smiled at the diversionary tactic that had almost worked. When Deven returned to his window and stared out into the darkness, she let him keep the illusion of success.
Instead, she went to the bags they’d brought back in and started looking through Zeven’s stuff to see if she could use anything to escape her guard if Zeven didn’t return in the next fifteen minutes. His bag was neatly packed with bound stacks of cash. How much, she had no way of knowing, but there was certainly enough to do anything they wanted. It made her measly two thousand look pitiful. Tucked to the side of the money there were a couple of handguns, clips and several knives.
“He didn’t pack many clothes.” Only one rolled up t-shirt was in this bag. But then he wouldn’t need them. He could form material from magic. “Does Division Eight only take werewolves?”
The silence stretched out. Since the diversion hadn’t worked, Deven must have thought ignoring her might.
She slipped a knife sheath under the sleeve of her shirt, deftly fastening it in place with the Velcro strips. Zeven’s oversized shirt would hide it easy enough. “Are there any humans in Division Eight? I can picture the break room having bags of kibble instead of donuts.”
Deven spun around. His face was a mask of pain for a heartbeat. Then he forced out a laugh, hiding the real emotion.
What had caused that flash of pain? “It was a joke. They don’t really feed you guys like animals, do they? If they do, there is no way I want Zeven treated like that, or you either for that matter.” Stepping up beside him, she laid a hand on his very tense arm.
He wouldn’t meet her gaze, but his hand covered hers. “D8 is a good group, who accept and don’t judge. Not many humans can do that.”
So, it wasn’t his agency that had abused him. Maybe in time she’d be able to work the truth from Deven about his mysterious past, but for now she left it alone with another soft pat to his arm. “Since I’m Zeven’s mate and you’re his brother, that makes us family, right?”
His huge hand closed over hers. “Not family, no. It makes us clan.”
After being alone in the world for a decade, having a family or rather having a clan, shook loose some old fear that she’d been fighting back for far too long. If she wasn’t alone, she could lose people she loved. But somehow, standing at the window of a cheap hotel room waiting for her mate to return, while being protected by a man with whom she now had some illusive bond… The strange combination countered any fear almost completely.
She checked her watch again. Only ten more minutes and still no sign of Zeven. “He’ll be back soon.”
Deven’s gaze dipped her way. From the frown to the arched brow, it was obvious that he didn’t agree with her optimism.
“He will.”
“Tell me something, Harley, do you really think they will believe your faked death story? Is he that good a liar?”
“Of course, they will believe him. The car explosion… It’s going to work.” She forced the words out even when they felt wrong. She’d known it all along. Their plan to fake her death had been full of holes and unlikely to actually convince anyone that she was dead. But with Deven showing up, it had forced their hand. It wasn’t a good plan, just the best they could come up with.
“He didn’t go there to lie to them.”
“How can you know why he went or what he’ll do?” She started trembling. She’d had the same thought and kept pushing it back, hoping she was wrong.
He turned on her then. His hands that had offered comfort, now forced her to stand and face the truth. “I know that if my mate needed others to die so she could be safe then they would die. I know that to me…my mate’s happiness would be more important than an enemy’s blood. I know that lies won’t work and that he will do whatever it takes.”
Her mind spun with the implications. If Zeven had gone there planning to do whatever it took… If he did end up killing even one of the werewolves who’d put out the hit on her life… If he didn’t or couldn’t walk away… Shit. “You’ll kill him anyhow.”
Deven didn’t answer. His hands fell away, releasing her.
“But you can’t. He’s your clan.” But then Zeven had killed his clan. Being clan did not keep death from knocking.
“Perhaps he and I are more alike than we want to admit.” He turned back to face the window.
