the scent he might never inhale again that still lingered on his skin. Changing into more practical clothing, he pushed emotions away with the strength from a lifetime of lessons learned. Then reached into the closet where he and his mate kept all their secrets and drew out two envelopes. The first, addressed to his mother over twenty years ago, had spoken of the fatalistic love and unfulfilled dreams of Rollo Moytes and Marie Savorie that had nearly destroyed two powerful clans. The second, stiff and yellowed with age, the one addressed to him that he hadn’t had the courage to open, he carried to the edge of the big, lonely bed where he sat to finally read it. Its seal gave easily. He withdrew the single sheet written in a script he recognized from the first.
This message was to him, the son Rollo hadn’t known he’d conceived when Marie fled his determined pursuit. By the time he’d found the home she’d made for herself and her child, Max had been rescued from the swamps by those who’d inadvertently . . . or perhaps, he finally admitted to himself, purposefully killed his mother. The kindly neighbor who’d lived across the dirt road from reclusive mother and child had held the letters in trust for the boy who’d become a man in search of his past. A past Max now had to visit again to save his future.
He opened the brittle paper and began to read.
– – –
A robin’s egg-blue BMW parked at the front steps. Tibideaux met Max’s frown with a careless smile and a glib, “I brought reinforcements.”
Philo, Cale and Rico waited in motionless silence as Max traveled the length of the long front porch and back. The harsh lines of his face and cool green stare betrayed nothing of his thoughts.
“Where do you want us?” Cale asked at last. “You can’t go up against that bitch alone.”
Max stopped to regard his friends. “She’ll know you’re there. Can’t risk that. I’ll deal with her. Alone. I appreciate what you’ve done and are willing to do, but this is my family.”
“You’re wrong there,” Tibideaux drawled. “We’re all family, Slick. Some fancy ass big shot told me that once. Oh, yeah. It was you.”
Max didn’t smile but he didn’t argue, either. Trust didn’t come easy to him, especially in matters so close to the heart, but there was no disputing that these three had earned it over and over again. He’d demanded it from them, and the time had come to reciprocate.
“I go in alone. If she senses you, she won’t hesitate to kill my mate.”
“We’ll be like the wind,” Rico promised, grin easy, stare ice cold.
“There’s a turn off about seven miles from where I’m going. Take it and loop around back. You’ll have to hoof it in. She’ll have men watching the perimeter.”
“I hope so.” That sassy grin got really pointy, really fast.
Cale’s stare flickered, silver to red. “Is it your plan to kill her? There’s no way I’m up for letting her go free. You asked the price of my loyalty once. This is it. I want her.” The Terriot king subconsciously flexed his bite-scarred hand.
“Not at the cost of my wife’s survival.”
A slight bow of his head. “Agreed. That means you trust her to keep her word?” Cale challenged. His battered façade spoke to how well that had worked out for him.
“No. I don’t trust her at all. But she won’t risk what I have falling into another’s hands.”
“What’s that?” Tib asked for all of them.
“The past. And most likely, the future.”
– – –
The orange Camaro barreled down I-10, a fierce reflection of Max’s take-no-prisoners mood. It was fast and it was hers.
He no longer saw Rico’s flashy convertible in his rear view. He didn’t need to. Feeling their energy and support with every beat of his heart, he trained his focus on what lay ahead. The end . . . of Genevieve Savorie or everything he loved.
As he left interstate for back roads, the lowering sun became a constant goal to beat as it eased down toward the tree line. Closer but not near enough. His foot pressed down harder, giving the shocks and springs of the gutsy vehicle a workout.
Aggression poorly camouflaging his worry, Max concentrated on his mate. He reached out, using the psychic connection they shared upon mating, he King of Beasts to her supposedly fragile human, searching for her unique signature.
Charlotte . . . I’m here for you.
Nothing.
Why couldn’t he find her?