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Wes could barely function since they’d returned to the office. Boone had to bring Wes’s extra set of clothes from his desk drawer and practically help him get dressed. Speaking to the cops who’d been in the office was nothing but a blur to Wes.
He’d listened numbly as Cooper spun a tale about the lion shifter trying to steal some computers before being chased off. Apparently, Wes said all the right things when the officers spoke with him because they had accepted his answers without any hesitancy.
“Tell me what happened.” Grayson sat down between Wes and Boone. Grayson had returned to the office just as they were loading Lusa into the ambulance. “Who the fuck attacked Lusa?”
“Lusa!” Wes gripped the table edge as fresh panic washed over him. “Is Lusa okay?”
“She’s good, man.” Boone squeezed his uninjured shoulder. “She’s at the hospital. She needed a lot of stitches and needs to stay overnight at the hospital for observation, but she’ll be all right. She’s pissed as hell that he got the best of her.”
“Seriously, someone needs to tell me what the fuck happened,” Grayson said.
Daisy sat next to Cooper at the other end of the table and took a wavering breath. “The delivery guy from West Coast Paper came in with the four boxes of paper I ordered. Only, it was a new guy. But I didn’t know it was the lion shifter who attacked Wes and Eleanor yesterday because,” she swallowed hard and tears slid down her cheeks, “because he didn’t look like the guy Cooper described to me. I’m so sorry, Wes. I shouldn’t have let him go past reception. This is all my fault.”
“Shh, my mate.” Cooper pulled her into his lap and kissed her before purring softly. “It isn’t your fault.”
“It is,” Daisy said miserably.
“No, it isn’t,” Wes said and then lapsed into silence. His lion’s pacing and growling and fear for their mate threatened to break his damn brain.
“So, the delivery guy came in,” Grayson prompted.
Boone took over. “When we saw the guy yesterday, he had hair down to his fucking waist and a beard. He shaved his head and his face and, we assume, killed the regular paper delivery guy.”
“He didn’t,” Daisy said. “The company called about ten minutes ago. I guess the police found the delivery truck abandoned at the edge of the city, and Roger, the regular guy, was knocked out in the back. He’s still unconscious, but he’s alive.”
“From what we can tell, he went to the copier room with the paper and then probably ran into Eleanor as she left the bathroom. He knocked her out and started to leave when Lusa showed up,” Cooper said.
Boone leaned back in his chair. “Lusa said, and I quote, ‘what the fuck are you doing, asshole?’, and grabbed his arm. He turned, swiped her across the guts, and then took off for the back exit. Coop, Wes, and Chase went after him, and, apparently,” Boone gave Chase a small smile, “old Chase here leaped onto the back of the truck like he was some kind of fucking stunt man.”
Chase didn’t return Boone’s smile. If it was possible, he looked just as miserable as Wes felt. He stared at Wes, regret and guilt swirling on his face. “I’m sorry, Wes. So fucking sorry.”
Wes shook his head, his throat burning. “You tried to save my mate. I won’t ever forget that.”
The phone rang, and Daisy slid off of Cooper’s lap and walked over to the phone that sat on the credenza near the door. She answered it, and Wes tuned out her soft voice as Grayson said, “So, first things first, we need to find out where the Dynasty Lab is located and -”
“Wes?” Daisy said.
He turned to stare at her. Her face was pale, and she had a white-knuckle grip on the phone. “It’s for you. He says,” she swallowed hard, “he says he has Eleanor.”
Wes’s stomach flip-flopped, and his lion’s eager trill made Wes’s chest ache.
Cooper reached for the phone that sat on the long table. “Everyone stays quiet. Let Wes speak to him without interruption.”
He glanced at Wes, who nodded. Cooper hit the speaker button, and Wes said, “Where is my mate?”
“Your mate?” The voice was low and pleasant sounding. “That’s unexpected.”
“Where is she?” Wes snarled.
“Relax. She’s perfectly fine. At least, my man says she’s fine. He’s on his way here with her now, and if you -”
“You tell Rourke that I’m going to rip off his head and shit down his neck for touching my mate,” Wes said.
Cooper laid a restraining hand on his arm as there was a moment of silence from the man on the phone. “How do you know his name?”
“I know your name too, Chad,” Wes said. “I know exactly what you’re doing to shifters with that fucking serum, and I also know that Rourke’s the only science experiment you have left. So, unless you want that fucking formula splashed all over the six o’clock news, you’ll give me back my mate. Now.”
More silence and Wes could practically feel the man’s shock oozing out of the phone. Finally, Chad said, “You’re under the mistaken delusion that you’re holding all the cards, Mr. Masters. Let me be clear - you are not. I don’t give a fuck about Eleanor Whitman. One word from me, and Rourke will slit her throat and bury her in a shallow grave. You tell anyone else about the formula, and your mate is dead. Is that clear?”
