My mate, he thought, unable to help himself. I wonder what she’s like? I don’t need her, but does she need me? Am I screwing up her life by not looking for her?
He hoped not. With any luck, she’d find someone else she could be happy with.
An unexpected pang of loneliness stabbed right through his heart at the thought of his mate with another man, followed by a surge of possessiveness.
No one but us gets our mate, Hal’s bear growled.
“I don’t need anyone!” Hal’s voice rang out, startling himself. He hadn’t meant to speak aloud.
He took a few deep breaths, trying to regain the sense of peace he’d felt when he’d been lifting. It took a while, but eventually it returned, washing over him like a cool shower.
He’d just closed his fingers around the bar to do another set when his phone rang again.
“Goddammit,” he muttered to himself, then picked it up. This time, it was Detective Kramer.
“Brennan,” Hal said. “What’s the emergency?”
Hal listened to the detective’s story with growing amazement. “She’s going to testify against Nagle? Seriously?”
“She is. And that’s not all,” Kramer said grimly. “She’s refused to go into Witness Protection. So I need your help. We’ve found a grant to pay for her to be protected around the clock. I want the best person you have.”
Hal opened his mouth to say that he didn’t hire anyone who wouldn’t be the best person at any other security company, and anyone on his team could protect the witness. Instead, he heard himself saying, “I’ll guard her myself.”
He headed to the locker room to shower, wondering all the while why he felt so compelled to take on the assignment. He rarely did straightforward bodyguard work. Maybe he was drawn to the challenge of protecting someone Nagle was gunning for.
As he was getting dressed, two of his team members came in. Of all his team, Nick and Lucas probably had the least in common, which was why Hal had assigned them to work together. He’d hoped it would break the ice.
Nick entered first, slamming the door open like he wanted to knock some sense into it.
“Hold the door.” Lucas’s hard-to-place accent made even those simple words sound like a line from some very classy play.
“Don’t fucking order me around.” Nick gave the door a shove back, apparently hoping to slam it in Lucas’s face.
A hand adorned with several gold rings caught the door, then gave it a matching shove that threatened to knock it off the hinges.
If Hal didn’t move fast, ice wouldn’t be the only thing that got broken. He cleared his throat.
Nick whipped around to look at him. His surprise was briefly replaced with a “who’re you looking at” challenge that Hal hadn’t seen directed at him in a while. Then the challenge vanished. It had been a long time since Nick had been the alpha of a criminal werewolf pack, fighting ferociously to maintain his power.
“Hey, Hal.” Nick stripped off his shirt and armored vest, then tossed them aside, exposing a muscular torso covered in an elaborate tattoo of wolves hunting deer in a deep, dark forest. They were shifter tats, so they were less obviously criminal than if he’d belonged to a human gang. But Hal knew what they meant. One drop of blood on a deer for each fight won, one drop of blood on a wolf for each fight lost, and
one dead deer for each kill.
“Hi, Nick,” Hal said.
Lucas strolled in, radiating unconcern. “Good day, Hal.”
“Hi, Lucas.”
Lucas removed his shirt and bullet-proof vest, then set them neatly down on the bench. His angular chest was marked by an intricate pattern, glittering gold. It looked like a tattoo, but Hal knew that he’d been born with it.
Hal made sure he was looking at both of them as he asked, “How’s the job going?”
“Fine,” Nick said shortly.
“It goes well,” Lucas replied.
Hal stared at them until they both dropped their gaze. He didn’t believe in micro-managing his team, but he also didn’t believe in letting problems simmer till they exploded.