Untamed Delights (The Phoenix Pack #8) - Suzanne Wright Page 0,106

to do with the attempts on your life, Mila. I believe him.”

“So this was never about Alex,” she said.

Dominic combed his fingers through her hair. “What about your enemies, Vinnie?”

“This isn’t someone targeting me through Mila,” the Alpha replied. “I have plenty of sources. If someone had put a hit out on Mila to get at me, I’d know about it by now.” He picked up his soda can and took a swig. “Alex told me about the conversation you had with him this morning. I never considered Pierson.”

“You’re not convinced it’s him,” Dominic sensed.

“Neither am I, as it happens,” said Mila. “Pierson’s human, so how would he know about that website? If he was going to put a hit out on me, wouldn’t he have hired a human?”

Vinnie pointed at her. “That’s what has me doubting that he’s who we should be looking at.”

“I wondered about that too,” said Dominic. “But many lone shifters are guns for hire—humans use them more than our kind does. If Pierson spoke to one who didn’t want the job, they could have told him about the website.”

“Possibly.” His plate empty, Tate leaned back in his seat. “We could pick him up. Make him talk.”

“Yeah.” Luke stretched. “Humans always break easily.”

Vinnie grimaced. “I’d rather be sure we have the right person, since we’d have to let him go if it turns out he’s innocent.”

Mila nodded. “If he mysteriously disappears, Dominic will be the prime suspect.”

“Exactly,” said Vinnie. “And if it is Pierson, well, it’s best to let him think we’re in the dark. Right now, he’s counting on a hit man taking care of the job. If he discovers we know about it, he’ll try to get rid of Mila another way. Possibly by involving the extremists. That can get messy. Look what they did to Bracken’s family.”

Footsteps stomped across the landing and into the kitchen. Dominic watched as a skinny teenage girl with flaming red hair came storming into the room, her mouth tight, her eyes wide with anger.

“Dad, you need to ship that little weasel off to another country—preferably one with lots of sweatshops for kids—or I’m gonna kill him.”

Vinnie sighed. “Elle—”

“Look what he did!” The girl held up a sequined top that had long slashes running through it, as if it had been clawed at by an animal.

Vinnie frowned at her bloodstained fingernails. “Why is there blood on you?”

Jutting out her chin, Elle shrugged one shoulder. “He slashed my top, so I slashed his. Not my fault he was wearing it at the time.”

A boy of about twelve or thirteen stalked into the room, his shirt torn and bloody. He glowered at the older teen. “Christ, Elle, what is your damage?”

She thrust the top at him. “This! This is damage! You got off lightly, Damian!”

The boy made a dismissive sound. “It doesn’t fit you anymore anyway—you’ve put on more weight.”

She gaped. “I lost four pounds this week.”

“I fart four pounds.”

“Well, there’s not a lot the Antichrist can’t do,” she sniped.

His hands fisted. “Stop calling me that! And stop humming The Omen theme music through the bedroom wall!”

“Stop calling me Miss Piggy and making whale noises at me!”

“Is it my fault you’re the size of one? I think not.”

Vinnie sighed. “Elle, Damian, enough.” He looked at his son. “Your sister is not fat, so stop with that shit. Elle, your brother is not—”

“The personification of pure evil?” Elle sniffed. “I disagree.”

Damian’s upper lip curled. “Drop dead, Jelly Thighs!”

“Screw you, Beelzebub!”

“Hey, hey, hey, enough.” Vinnie slashed a hand through the air. “We’re done here. Oh, and you’ll both be replacing the clothes you slashed.”

Mumbling and huffing, Elle and Damian marched out of the room and headed off in separate directions.

Vinnie turned to Dominic. “I gave this advice to Bracken, and now I’m going to give it to you. Either only have one kit with Mila or wait a decade before having a second. Pallas kits don’t get along well with siblings of a similar age. Really, given that Mila and Alex are twins, it’s a wonder they didn’t kill each other as kids.”

“We tried,” admitted Mila.

“Yeah, so did we,” said Tate, gesturing at his brother.

Luke nodded. “Multiple times. I nearly succeeded when I pushed him off the roof, hoping it’d look like suicide. The bastard had put rat poison in my pudding.”

Tate shrugged. “Listening to you vomit was better than listening to you breathe.”

Mila gave Dominic a mockingly sweet smile. “See what a bright future you have to look forward to?”

Chuckling, Dominic kissed

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