ROMANCE: Mason (Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance Boxset) (New Adult Contemporary Stepbrother Romance Collection) (98 page)

“You ok, babe?”

Sydney turned on the faucet and splashed her face with cold water.  “Yeah, I’ll be right out.”  She took one last look before opening the door. 

Dakota was bouncing on the bed on her knees as Vince tried to keep her corralled with wide spread arms.  Sydney crossed her arms. 

“Now, does Mommy let you jump in beds at home?”

Dakota grinned, but stopped bouncing.  “No, but this not home.”

Sydney could only shake her head at that logic. 

They dined at a little café near the water before beginning their walk.  Dakota raced up and down the water’s edge, laughing and stooping ever so often to dig for a shell.  Vince and Sydney walked a decent distance behind her, hand in hand, but stayed close enough to get to her in a hurry if she did anything careless. 

“Are you still wanting to home school her next year?” 

“I do want that.”  Sydney looked up at him shielding her eyes with her free hand from the setting sun. 

Vince nodded.  He knew how badly Sydney wanted to do it, and she was more than qualified.  “Then I think you should.”

“Really?”  Her voice carried the faint air of hopeful disbelief.

He smiled down at her.  “Yes, really.  Just make sure you involve her in some things with other kids.  I don’t want her to end up socially backwards.”

Sydney laughed at the thought.  Her daughter was anything but socially backwards.  She would talk to anyone.  A shadow crossed her face as the thought reminded her of the faceless man from the park. 

“No, I won’t allow that.  There are other home school families on base, and if you decide to get out, there are things like co-ops and home school groups.”

“Good.” 

They kept their conversation light as the day faded to dusk.  Dakota was running out of steam, and before the moon had finished its rise, she was fast asleep in Vince’s arms.  The beach had cleared considerably, and he tucked his daughter in to bed before kissing Sydney goodbye and heading out into the night.

Vince was fortunate enough to find, after twenty minutes of driving, a park that was closed for the evening.  He parked a few blocks down, and walked back to the park, before carefully taking off his clothes and leaving them folded on the ground. 

He crept into the tree line which separated the park from the street, and sucked in the cool night air.  He only wore boxers, but he had plenty of those.  The destruction that was about to happen to them was no great loss.   

Just a quick run, nothing more.

It had been so long he worried for a moment that he wouldn’t be able to do it without a catalyst.  Anger worked best, but sadness could do it too.  He only needed to think for a few moments, standing in that tree line shivering, of Sydney’s scared face the night of the phone call, and of Captain Tillman’s basic brush off of what was happening.  He hadn’t known him personally, but he didn’t know him to have the reputation for unadulterated callousness.  The whole thing stank to high heaven. 

Yes, anger was the best catalyst.  He could feel his skin pull and stretch against itself.  A war raged deep in his bones of what was natural and what was not.  With a shudder he fell to his knees and breathlessly let the change happen.  The burn and tingle in his pores was painful ecstasy.  He knew his body was sprouting silky black fur in the darkness.  Within minutes he was running on elongated feet, his barrel chest effortlessly pulling air into his now larger lungs.  Small animals scurried to safety, and the night sung around him. 

Sydney needed to sleep.  She was on pins and needles waiting for Vince to come back.  Would he be spotted?  God, no, please!   Would he accidentally run into another of his kind?  Please, God, an extra no, please!   She needed to do something to keep her mind occupied without waking Dakota.  A shower was all she had.  She was too worked up to read. 

She had just stepped under the hot water, the near scalding temperature already filling the room with steam.  She thought she heard a noise, but dismissed it.  She closed her eyes, only to pop them open again as a hand ran the length of her back.  She let out a strangled cry.  Vince responded with a husky chuckle. 

“You scared the shit out of me!”  She whispered, but a smile was already playing on her lips. 

“So?”  He climbed into the shower and turned her around so that she was facing away from him, pushing forward slightly so that she was bent at the waist.  He forced her legs a few more inches apart.  With one thrust he entered her, this one last act of primal need for the night.  He grinned and came close to her ear as she let out a moan.  “Want me to get out?”

Sydney’s answer was her buttocks grinding against him, her arms firmly planted against the shower wall. 

Evelyn Tillman was a simple woman.  Some thought she was locked in a long forgotten decade, and had no idea what was really going on, even when it was right under her nose.  She enjoyed sewing and entertaining with down home style cooking.  She preferred skirts and dresses to jeans or slacks.  She loved flowers and gardening, but the thing she loved most was her piano. 

As Vince was running wild through a park, she was gloriously pounding Fur Elise on that very piano.  Raymond had been surly for days, but sometimes he just was, and her piano gave her comfort during those darker times.  Whereas she was simple; he was complicated.

  Her fingers faltered when she heard the odd noise, and stilled when she was sure she heard a thud.  She slid off the piano bench, irritated her personal recital was interrupted, and went to her husband’s office door.  Her new harvest surprise candles were putting off a delicious autumn kind of smell, but that would be the final year that autumn would be her favorite season.  She knocked once and called his name.  No answer.  She turned the knob and the door swung inward easily.  A low desk lamp was the only light burning, but Raymond wasn’t sitting behind his desk.  She walked a few feet forward, and slid her feet to the right as something caught her eye. 

Evelyn’s face twitched once before smoothing into a mask of calmness.  Raymond’s body laid on its side and the small bullet wound at his temple would no doubt be a gaping hole at the other temple.  She didn’t know much, but she knew what a .357 Magnum could do at close range.  She had paid attention years ago when he taught her how to shoot, even though he said she hadn’t. 

“Raymond, that pool of blood is going to stain my rug!”  She tsked at his lifeless body and left the study, closing the office door behind her.  She returned to the piano to finish Fur Elise.  She made it through to the end before banging her fists on the keys, as a shuddering sob tore from her body.

Vince sat bolt upright as his cell phone began chirping loudly.  Sunlight was trying to push past the drapes, and it carried a sparkling kind mischief.  Vince looked at caller ID and slid his finger across the screen. 

“This better be good since it’s only 6:40.” 

“Vince, it’s all over the base!”  Stanley sounded like an excited kid, but his voice carried the edge of something terribly unbelievable. 

“What?”  He glanced at Sydney as she sat up and stretched. 

“Captain Tillman put a .357 hollow point through his skull last night!” 

“What?”  Vince turned his body and placed his feet on the floor, hunching his back. 

Sydney touched his shoulder.  “What is it?”  She whispered, her eyes large and fearful over his shoulder.  Vince held up a finger. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Vince.  When will you guys be back?”

“Sooner than I thought.”

Vince knocked on Stanley’s door just past eleven.  Stanley let him in with a grim look to his eyes. 

“What’s the word?”

“The word is that it looks like he was a stinking, two timing rat!” 

Vince nodded to Annette as she walked cautiously into the living room.  “What does that mean?” 

“Word on the base, and it’s only speculation so far, is that he was in some kind of deal with a Taliban cell group here state side.”  Stanley sucked in a breath, and lowered his voice, moving close to Vince.  “A cell group tied directly to a certain dead prince.” 

Vince ran a hand across his mouth.  It was preposterous.  Captain Tillman was a career Navy man, respected and well liked.  “This is bad.” 

“You’re telling me!” 

“Want your anti-acid, baby?”

“No.”  He replied gruffly, sending Annette slinking back into the kitchen. 

“This could be really bad, Vince.  What if…what if he gave our information to some nasty people?”

“I think he already did.” 

Stanley stared at him, hoping he would crack a joke and say it was just a misunderstanding.  When his hope fell like dead weight, he went to his overstuffed couch and sat down, only to pop right back up like a jack in the box. 

“We have to talk to someone.”

“And who do you suggest?  If someone like Tillman was on the take, then who else might be?” 

“I think we should send our women and Dakota away from here.” 

Vince’s mind immediately thought of his pack sitting snuggly in the woody hills of Tennessee, but didn’t think Annette would enjoy that very much.  “Where do you suggest?” 

Stanley put both hands behind his head and laced his fingers at the base of his skull.  The sight made Vince think of POW’s and he wished he would stop it.  “Annette has family in Georgia.  They could go there.” 

“Without us to protect them?”

“They both know how to use a weapon.  We made sure of it.  I think it would be better for them.” 

Vince looked at the kitchen doorway and saw Annette standing near the doorframe on the opposite side.  All he could see was half of her face, one large fearful eye and half a head of trembling braids. 

“I’m not leaving the base, Stanley.”

“You’ll do what I say for your own good!” 

Annette disappeared again. 

“Yelling at her won’t help.” 

“Maybe not, but she needs to understand!” 

Vince and Stanley worked up, in hushed tones, what they hoped was a feasible plan for keeping their wives and Vince’s daughter safe.  Annette listened with her back against the half wall that divided the living room from the kitchen, her lips transferring silent pleas to God. 

“No, Vince!”  Sydney stormed behind him as he grabbed a jacket and shirts from the closet. 

Was Georgia getting cool yet?  It didn’t matter, she would have the jacket if she needed it. 

Sydney reached out and tugged at Vince’s arm until he stopped.  He closed his eyes for a moment.  Snapping at her would do as much good as Stanley snapping at Annette.  The doorbell rang and Sydney dropped his arm in frustration.  

“It’s Bridgette.”  She said dully. 

“She can’t stay long.” 

Sydney opened the door and saw that Bridgette was dressed in fatigues.  “Hey, I’m sorry, I should have called.  There’s something….”

“I know.”  Bridgette said quietly, slipping through the door way.  “I can’t stay like planned anyway.  There’s a lot happening on the base.” 

Vince crept up the hallway, his nose pointed towards the ceiling.  One long whiff spoke volumes.  Wolf.  He entered the living room, his gaze level on Bridgette.  Her eyes widened only slightly.  She now could recognize in him what she couldn’t previously. 

“Hello, Vince.” 

“How long?” He asked flatly.

She only hesitated a moment.  “Just over a year.” 

Sydney looked from Bridgette’s face to Vince’s, her brow a severe V.  “What are the two of you talking about?”

Bridgette’s green eyes looked at Sydney patiently, but it was Vince who answered.  

“She’s werewolf.” 

“What?”  The unreality of it, on top of just finding out that Vince was sending her away, was too much.  “How?” 

Bridgette folded her hands in front of her like a school girl getting ready to recite an important passage.  “I was out on maneuvers, when I came ashore I wasn’t ready to go home to the empty apartment; Peter was still overseas.”  She shook her head slightly.  “It was foolish.  I went for a run.”  She shrugged helplessly.  “I came across a new Werewolf. He had no control.  He bit me before his Alpha could get to me.” 

Sydney put a hand to her throat.  “My God, Bridgette.”

“It was a shock to say the least, but it all worked out for the best.  My new friends helped me after Peter…after Peter died.” 

Vince watched the exchange with folded arms.  His mind ticked off the possibilities.  How it could benefit them.  “So you have a pack.”  It was an obvious statement. 

“Yes.”

“In Rhode Island?”

Bridgette nodded. 

Vince felt something shift.  She wasn’t being completely truthful.  It may have been the fact that they were both predators now, it may have been the length of time since their friendship.  Either way, he wasn’t taking any chances. 

“Look, Bridgette, I know Syd is dying to catch up, but we have a situation, and she’s going to be gone for a few days.  Can she call you when she gets back?”