Head Hunter (City Shifters the Pack #3) - Layla Nash Page 0,54

him and headed toward the other side of the house from the living room, where Deirdre and Evershaw still worked on some magical fix for Silas’s condition. Dodge stood in the kitchen and glared at the wall as he struggled with the urge to storm back through the house to loom over the detective and make sure she didn’t upset Persephone. He knew Todd might have had a point, that the detective couldn’t do her job if Dodge was there growling and snarling every time Persephone got upset.

But he knew that she would be upset, and it killed him to abandon her when she needed his help and protection. What the hell kind of mate walked away in the face of difficult questions and uncomfortable situations? Dodge forced himself to leave the kitchen and head to the storm cellar. As soon as the detective was done, Dodge would take Persephone to his room and make a nest for her so she could take her nap. Maybe he’d feed her again first, then the nap, then plan for the next alligator they faced.

Silence greeted him when he finally opened the cellar doors and descended the stairs. Silas, secured to the wall with a long chain, hardly lifted his head when Dodge took the armchair across the room and poured himself a drink. Maybe whiskey would blunt the urge to break through walls to get to Persephone. He couldn’t shake the wrong feeling of being apart from her as she struggled. He hated it. Hated it.

Silas lifted his head and growled a bit, maybe reacting to Dodge’s heightened emotions, but Dodge waved at him. “Calm down, man. We’re trying to figure out how to help. The witch’ll be coming down here in a while to figure out making you human again. I’m in time-out so I don’t tackle the detective and get thrown in jail for assaulting a cop.”

The wolfman snorted air through his nose and laid his head back against the wall. His eyes gleamed gold in the half-lit cellar as he watched Dodge.

Dodge shook his head, running his hand through his hair. “Man, I wish you could talk. I need your input. There’s shit going on and I need a battle-buddy. I’ve gotta figure out what the fuck I’m going to do about – the girl.”

Silas blinked. Something in the way his head tilted made Dodge think – or at least hope – that the wolfman understood. That he was listening and paying attention and could eventually give Dodge a signal or advice. There was no telling how that would happen, but it made Dodge feel less like an asshole for talking to a crazy wolfman.

He drained his whiskey and poured another couple of shots, and leaned to retrieve a cigar from the small humidor he’d stashed in the cellar. Dodge took his time cutting the cigar and lighting it. He knew he was a coward for delaying saying what needed to be said. If he said it out-loud, it couldn’t be un-said. It might feel true and inevitable and – right, if he said the words. When they were just in his head, he could still deny it.

Silas grumbled and gave him a dark look. For a long moment, it felt like his human friend was back. Maybe he lurked deep inside and just couldn’t speak.

Dodge tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling as he puffed on the cigar. “The human you almost ran down yesterday morning. She’s mixed up in some bad shit with Bridger and her goons. They’ll probably try to kill her.”

Silas growled.

“I know, I know,” Dodge said. “It won’t happen, but that’s what we’re facing. She still doesn’t trust any of us, and she freaks out about everything new. She’s struggling with just the fact that we exist, that supernatural stuff is going on around her and she didn’t know it. I don’t think she wants to know. She wants to go back to not knowing any of it, not being affected by any of it. And there’s no going back.”

The wolfman blinked eyes that were suddenly more gold, more intense. Focused.

Dodge studied his cigar. “There’s something about her, man... She’s – different. The wolf is certain about her, more certain about her than anything else I’ve ever felt in my life. She’s ours. She’s meant to be ours. My – mate.”

He almost choked on the word. Mate. He hadn’t meant to say it, maybe dance around it instead. But it came out.