“You’ve shown that woman more interest in ten minutes than you’ve shown me all night.” Her hands bunched the tablecloth. “Am I wasting my time?”
“Yes,” he answered honestly, making a fist beneath the table to hold on to the feel of Hadley, the sensation as bizarre as his…not attraction. Fascination? “You knew that already.”
Eight
Out on the street, Ford waited with Bonnie. I wasn’t sure how much, if anything, he had overheard from my conversation with Midas, but he studied me with an intensity that left my nape tingling. Or maybe that had more to do with the beta I had left in my dust.
Midas had given me food for thought, and I was chewing over his reservations about us helping the girl. Now that my temper had cooled, I could admit more information was required before any action was taken. Since I had a prime resource who could do the digging for me, I texted Bishop the request for a background check on Jessica.
“We’ve got time to hit the Clairmonts before we call it a night,” I told Ford on my way past. “Let’s knock them out of the suspect pool.” I shrugged. “Or into it.”
Bonnie trotted over, happy to ditch Ford, and I bent to pick up the leash she manifested on the spot. She surprised me by rearing up on my arm to give the place where Midas touched me a good sniff before shooting me a knowing look through narrowed eyes.
“Whatever it is you’re thinking, stop right now.” I stood under Ford’s watchful gaze. “What?”
“I don’t get it,” he admitted. “This thing between you and Midas.”
“What thing?” I felt my palms go damp. “There is no thing.”
“You ran straight to him,” Ford said, a slight edge in his tone. “And he…let you.”
“Kids are in danger. Girls. From what I have no issue calling a sexual predator. What kind of man would Midas be if he shrugged that off?” Aware I had ruffled Ford’s feathers, I attempted to smooth them. “If it makes you feel any better, he blew me off when I invited him to our movie night.”
Glossing over the fact I had invited another guy in the first place, he grinned from ear to ear. “So, we’re on?”
“Looks that way.” I scratched behind Bonnie’s ear. “How do you feel about pizza?”
Ford shook his head over me treating her like a dog. “Me or her?”
“I meant Bonnie.” I straightened. “I already know you like it, and how you like it.”
He glanced through the window at Midas, but he didn’t say another word, just pointed across the street.
“That’s their building?” I hadn’t paid attention to the street signs on the way over. “How convenient.”
The poshest wargs in the city would want to be close to the poshest restaurants and retailers.
We hit the crosswalk and approached a tasteful entrance guarded by an unobtrusive doorman.
“Ms. Clairmont has been expecting you,” he said in a bass rumble. “Check in at the desk, please.”
Two out of three doormen found me perfectly tolerable. This was proof, in my opinion, that the nightshift doorman at the Faraday had it out for me. Thank the goddess I would be back to using the window as my front door soon.
“Thank you.” I led Bonnie through the door he held for us. I walked straight to the counter where a young man sat with a guest book flipped to a blank page. “Hadley Whitaker for Ayla Clairmont.”
“Sign here, please.” He indicated the topmost line with a pen more expensive than my shoes. Though, to be fair, odds were his pen didn’t have to walk through blood or other bodily fluids. He could afford to invest in something nice while I had to go for practical, borderline disposable. I took it from him, admiring its weight, and made my mark. “Take the elevator on your left to the sixth floor. Those are our office suites. Ms. Clairmont will see you in room 612.”
The camera in the elevator was obvious, so neither of us spoke on the ride. The hallway we entered was minimalist but elegant, lots of grays and blacks and whites. A door was open at the far end, and I heard a woman’s voice carrying on a one-sided conversation. She hung up the landline phone when she spotted me in the doorway and waved us in.
Ayla was curvy in a way that made men drool, and she dressed like a woman who didn’t mind using her breasts to get who or what she wanted out of life.
I glanced down at the uniboob my sports bra gave me under my tee and debated if my job would be easier if I wore leather and flashed cleavage. Probably not. Goddess only knows what I would come home with stuck between and under them.
“Hadley.” She gestured me toward a seat opposite hers. “I haven’t seen you in months. How’s training?”
“I can’t complain.” I sat and didn’t fuss when Ford took point behind me. Bonnie paced in the doorway, giving the impression she was on patrol, which was too cute for words. “How’s alphaing?”
Her throaty laugh came off as genuine, a neat trick. “I can’t complain either.”
“Your doorman informed me I was expected,” I said lightly.
“I heard you visited the Loups and Mendelsohn. I assumed I would be next and made Deon aware.”
“Where did you hear it from, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Here and there.” She spread her hands. “I have my sources.”
Most factions had lost interest in me after the first few months, but Ford joining me for this investigation had shoved me back into the spotlight.
There would be those in power looking to pick apart my candidacy over this. I would get spanked for preferential treatment if I didn’t spin it right, but I was in too deep to back out now.
“In that case—” I kept my tone friendly, “—I’ll make an assumption about what your sources have told you and skip to the point. Do you know a woman named Shonda Randall?”
“Don’t you mean did I know her?” She leaned forward and folded her hands on her desktop. “It’s my understanding she was murdered in a most gruesome fashion.” She cut her eyes toward Ford. “She was gwyllgi, I believe.”
The Clairmonts, with their downtown location and more urbane outlooks, came off as soft. Compared to the other packs in the area, they were, but there were less obvious downsides to dealing with them than with Mendelsohn or the Loups. The Clairmonts’ distance from city center gave information time to find cracks to hide in. Ayla’s position made it easy for her to keep eyes and ears all over town.
“All right.” I had tried playing dumb, but Ayla was too smart for it. “Let’s cut to the chase.”
“Don’t stop on my account.” Her eyes twinkled with mirth. “I enjoy the game. Mr. Lawson does as well.”
“You’ll have to forgive my ineptitude,” I said dryly. “I didn’t receive the same home training.”
“Did any of us?” Her laughter invited me to join in. “His mother is the single most powerful and influential necromancer alive. Have you ever met her?”
The edges of the room grew as warped and twisted as my memories of Clarice Lawson and her cronies.
“The punishment for summoning is six months imprisonment. She must pay the tithe and serve her time.”