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“What?” my brother asked.
“It doesn’t matter right now. First, I need to talk to Mitchell. Where is he?”
“He’s at the old strip mall. We’re renovating it for Cat Maccon,” Tim said.
I nodded and grabbed the keys to Erryn’s Vespa. Yeah, it was cold as fuck, but after years of hearing Zeke, my honorary Uncle who was also a Sleep Demon, wax poetic on his fondness for the tiny motorbikes, Erryn had caved and gotten one of her own. It was the same shade of purple as her eyes, and though I’d never driven one before, I was totally convinced I could do it.
There wasn’t much choice, really. I had to get to him. I had to see if the things Tim and my Wolf said were real. Was Mitchell really mine? There was only one way to find out.
I took off like a bat out of hell down the slushy streets of Maccon City to the old strip mall that had sat abandoned for years. The wind was bitterly cold, but my powers were back, and I felt just fine. Hell, I hadn’t even grabbed a jacket.
I was wearing fleece lined leggings and knee-high boots with a gray hooded sweatshirt and my hair in a careless ponytail that had come loose somewhere along the way. I looked like a lunatic. I was sure of it, but I didn’t care.
CHAPTER EIGHT MITCHELL
It was almost noon, but I had already dismissed the crew for lunch. I rubbed both my hands over my face and growled in frustration. The place beneath my breastbone felt hollow and empty. Fuck, was this what rejection from your mate felt like?
I hated it. Hated knowing I’d done something to break whatever bond had already started to form between me and Martina. I knew she was my fated mate, but despite her being a Wolf Shifter, she didn’t seem to have the slightest inkling. Did that mean I was wrong?
No, my Wolf snarled. And I rubbed my chest, trying to soothe the monster. I’d spent the last three nights locked in my fur, pacing the length of the shed. I was grateful for the help of Sherry Morgan, the Pack Beta’s mate, and the most powerful White Witch to walk the earth.
She’d used magic to make the interior of the otherwise normal looking ten by twelve-foot structure to be much larger for my changes. Damned family curse. My Wolf snapped his jaws, and I chuckled at the ornery fucker. Fine. It wasn’t his fault, but still. Life would have been easier without the constraints I was forced to live under. At least with Rafe Maccon as Alpha, I didn’t have to hide what I was.
That train of thought reminded me of Martina. Puzzling woman. She’d talked about living under a cloud when the old Alpha was in power, and what little I recalled of Zev Maccon confirmed what she’d said. But she was a Wolf, so why the hatred? I wished she was there so I could ask. One look at my cell phone told me she hadn’t sent a reply to any of the sixteen texts I’d sent over the last three days.
Fuck. I looked desperate. But it was fitting. I was desperate. Like a fucking dog sitting at her feet, hoping for a scrap. I was pathetic. But I was owning that shit. Waiting her out wasn’t working. Despite my promises to Davian, tonight I was going to see her if I had to break down the fucking door.
The slight sound of a motor reached my sensitive ears, and I turned my head to the front of the trailer. Tim always insisted we have one for the two of us when working on a site. But the fucking thing only had two windows, and they were facing the other way. I stood up, walking to the front door and narrowly missed being slapped in the face with the fucking thing.
“What the?—”
“Mitch!”
Holy shit. It was her. I stood stunned as she barreled into the trailer, frowning when I noticed the absence of a coat.
“Fuck, sweetheart, it’s twenty degrees outside,” I growled and grabbed her hand.
I closed the door and pulled her up against me, intending to warm her with my body heat. Only when I touched her, I realized she was hot. Not her usual sexy as fuck hot, I meant hot to the touch.
“Sorry, I’m, uh, a little riled up,” she said, easing back from my hold.
I wanted to roar and squeeze her even tighter. My Wolf was riding me hard, and it was all I could do to finally release her. Holding onto my raging animal was difficult, but I managed. Barely.
“Um, what are you doing here? Not that I am not thrilled to see you, I mean. Shit,” I said, rubbing my hand over my head.
I bit my fucking tongue in an effort to keep my mouth shut.
“I just saw your brother,” she began.
“My brother?” I asked, confused.
“Yeah. He was at the house. Um, I used to have a crush on him, actually, never mind. Davi and Err were fixing some computer bug, anyway, he, um, he said something,” Martina whispered, her words running together.
I made a mental note to kick Tim’s ass later, but first I needed to figure out what the heck was going on here. She was wringing her hands and pacing as little as the space allowed, making me anxious as fuck. I tried to be calm, but there was something wrong and the beast in me demanded I fix it.
“Hey, let’s sit down,” I said, and grabbed a couple of waters from the small fridge by the desk.
We had a three-cushion sofa against one wall for naps or guests to sit in case a meeting was necessary when either Tim or I were working in there. It wasn’t fancy, but it was sturdy and a hell of a lot better than me just standing there like a total idiot.
