Written In Red Part 46

Uneasy, she didn't push him. She brought him a couple of puppy cookies, which he refused to eat. He just huddled by the door, s.h.i.+vering.

She knew the moment Simon started up the stairs to her front door. Sam alternated howling and clawing at her door.

"Get out of the way, Sam," she said. "I can't open the door with you standing there."

As soon as the door was open, he bolted out of her apartment and down the stairs, racing past Simon.

"He's upset," she said. She tried to shut the door in Simon's face, but she wasn't fast enough. He didn't force his way in, didn't make any demands, but she was sure that the flickers of red in his eyes and the way he sniffed the air meant he knew exactly why Sam was upset.

Returning to the kitchen, she poured a gla.s.s of orange juice. Then she sat at the table and waited for whatever Simon was going to do.

He had washed the cage and put it in one of the bas.e.m.e.nt storage bins. He was willing to look the other way about the harness and leash for a while longer, especially now that he knew why Sam wanted to keep wearing it, but he couldn't tolerate looking at that cage anymore.

And yet, when he opened the door to their apartment, Sam ran for that spot and huddled where the back corner of the cage used to be.

Simon removed his boots, went into the living room, and knelt beside the s.h.i.+vering pup.

Besides the smell of blood on Meg.

Whining, Sam climbed into Simon's arms.

Barely a whisper, but at least Sam was responding. Whining and s.h.i.+vering. Then, Stupid b.i.t.c.h, Simon thought as he cuddled Sam. Why slice herself when the pup was still with her? Why couldn't she wait until he'd gone home and wouldn't pick up the scent of fresh blood?

Why indeed?

As the scent of her blood faded, replaced by the familiar scents of his own den, Simon's anger also faded.

No euphoria if the words of a prophecy weren't spoken. Only pain.

There were other reasons for a blood scent, especially in a female's bathroom. Could have been an accidental nick. Could be a different kind of blood that a pup wouldn't know about yet.

No. That kind of blood wasn't mixed with a medicine smell.

He didn't realize he was growling until Sam began licking his chin and making anxious sounds.

He'd been wrong the last time he accused her of cutting herself. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

Simon called.

Relief washed through him. Maybe his own memories of finding Daphne and Sam that terrible night made it hard for him to be rational about Meg being hurt. Maybe he was just as vulnerable as Sam in that way.

"Sam? I need to talk to Henry. Can you stay by yourself, or do you want me to ask . . . Elliot or Nathan to stay with you?" It told him how much she had become one of them that Meg was his first choice to stay with the pup.

Sam s.h.i.+fted. Simon enclosed the naked boy in his coat, letting his own heat warm cold skin.

"Can I watch a movie?" Sam asked.

"You can watch a movie."

"Can I have a snack?"

"You can have a snack that I will make for you."

Worried gray eyes looked into his. "Simon? Is Meg going to die and leave us?"

Simon shook his head. "If Meg was badly hurt, she would tell us. And she didn't look hurt, Sam." Actually, she did. Her face, her eyes, still showed signs of pain when she answered the door and tried to pretend everything was fine. "I'll check on her after I talk to Henry."

He couldn't do more than that for boy or woman, so he made a snack for Sam and put in the movie before he went over to Henry's. The Grizzly had returned and was making tea when Simon walked into the Beargard's kitchen.

He waited until they were seated at the table, the tea steaming in cups, before he told Henry about Sam and the scent of blood.

"Did she look wounded?" Henry asked.

"She's not wounded," Simon snapped. "She cut herself. You know it and I know it. But I don't know what to do about it."

"It's not your decision."

"I'm the leader. It is my decision."

Henry sipped his tea and said nothing for a minute. Simon struggled to keep his canines the proper human size while he waited, understanding that Henry was making him wait.

"How many humans do you trust?" Henry finally asked.

"Not many. Hardly any."

"I think our Meg trusts even less than you. In her own way, she is even more private than terra indigene, and I think she has been allowed so little privacy. Will you be like the human who used her and thought he owned her, or will you be a friend she can trust?"

Simon bared his teeth and snarled at Henry. Then the snarl faded because the Beargard had revealed the trap. If Meg cut herself, she saw a prophecy. If he forced her to tell him what she saw, she might believe she had traded one kind of controller for another. She might run again.

He sighed, a sound full of frustrated acceptance. "If she averages one cut a week for fifty-two weeks, how many years can she survive at that rate?"

"I don't know," Henry replied quietly. "The question to ask is, Where do you want her to spend those years?"

"With us. I want her to spend them with us." He pushed away from the table. "Thanks for the tea."

On the way back to his apartment, he climbed the stairs and knocked on Meg's door. She answered so promptly, he suspected she'd been waiting for him.

"Sam thought you weren't feeling well," Simon said. "That's why he was upset."

"I'm fine."

She didn't sound fine, and she looked tired. He didn't like her being alone when she looked that tired.

Wasn't his place to push or demand. He didn't like that either.

"Anything you want to tell me?" he asked.

She hesitated, then shook her head.

"All right. See you tomorrow."

He went down the stairs, alert for the slightest sound from her, the softest call to come back.

All he heard was the gentle closing of the door.

Asia closed her eyes and thought of elegant dining, polished hotel rooms, and men who knew more about s.e.x than that widget A was supposed to go into slot B. That most of the people she'd seen eating at Meat-n-Greens were actually enjoying the food was reason enough to call in exterminators-the kind that had the hardware to eliminate all manner of pests. She'd had no complaints with her fillet until she made the mistake of asking what kind of beef it was, and learned it was horse.

Except for the picture it put in her head, horse wasn't as bad-or gamy-as Darrell's fillet of moose. Apparently, one description fit any meat.

And the apartments the Courtyard's upper echelon used for intimate entertaining! She couldn't imagine women wanting to spend an hour here for anything but bragging rights-or a lucrative ulterior goal.

As for the s.e.x, the less she thought about it the better, especially when she was going to have to accept another invitation from Darrell. She'd seen just enough tonight to have a plan, had been risque enough to have Darrell panting for more without coming across as too knowledgeable. That alone should be worth a bonus-and prove the caliber of her acting skills.

Asia Crane, Special Investigator. She could imagine Darrell in a couple of years, bragging about having slept with Asia, superstar of a hit TV series.

She sighed, kissed Darrell's chest, and started to wiggle out of bed.

"Where are you going?" he asked, trying to draw her back to him.

"Honey, it's late. I have to go."

"I thought we were going to spend the night together."

"Oh no. I can't do that. Not the first time. It wouldn't be right. And my car's in the Courtyard parking lot. What if someone notices it was there overnight?"

Darrell frowned. "Are you still worried about Simon Wolfgard being jealous? Because he knows about us. He gave his approval for the guest pa.s.s I got for you."

Sure, she'd wanted people around the Courtyard to know Darrell was her boyfriend, but it hadn't occurred to her that Simon would know she was the woman up here with Darrell tonight. But Asia Crane, SI, would have expected Simon to know about this romp and figured out a way to use it.

Yes. Simon knowing she was here tonight was good. Better than good, because now he wouldn't have any reason to question her scent being somewhere he might not expect.

She gave Darrell's chest a quick kiss. "No, honey. I'm not worried about Simon Wolfgard in any way. I made it clear the other day that I'm looking for a real man, not a Wolf pretending to be something he's not and never can be." Okay, she hadn't said it in those words when she took that last shot at flirting with Simon, but she didn't think Darrell would ask the Wolf, so no one would know.

She felt a change in Darrell, felt the possessive way his hands now stroked her body.

"Then what's the problem?" he asked.

"I already told you. I might not be able to resist being pa.s.sionate with someone special, but I'm not the kind of girl who has dinner and breakfast on the first big date." She stroked his chest. "Besides, I didn't bring anything with me for overnight." She pressed a finger against his lips before he could argue. "Don't spoil it. Please. Just tell me how soon I can pack that overnight bag."

"Just as soon as I can arrange to have the room again." He rolled, pinning her. "But we have time for one more. Don't we?"

"Oh yes." She wrapped her arms around his neck as he settled between her legs. "We surely do."

CHAPTER 19.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Did you get my present? The items were selected just for you."

"A special messenger delivered it, even though I never gave you my address."

"Information can be acquired if one knows who to ask."

"Well, I love my present. I can use a number of these items on my date tomorrow evening."

"Would you like some company? That special messenger has a variety of skills. In fact, two dozen messengers from that company are now in the city. They're trained to handle delicate or volatile packages."

A light laugh. "No, thanks. I'll do just fine on my own. And I expect to find a little bit of something to send back as a thank-you."

"In that case, I'll look forward to our next conversation."

Asia hung up the phone and put on the thin gloves used in a hospital's contagious ward. As she examined each vial in the carefully packed box sent by Meg Corbyn's owner, she silently thanked Bigwig for all the information she'd been given about various drugs and the penalties for possessing them. At the time, she'd thought of it as useful information for her TV role. Now it was vital information for real life.