One Immortal - Tia Louise Page 0,24
from her leaves me hollow. Without thinking, I rub my stomach.
“What’s wrong with you?” Stuart snaps.
I sniff and raise my eyebrows, sitting straighter in my seat. “Didn’t sleep well last night. I was pretty fired up after… what happened.”
It’s not entirely a lie.
Stuart nods, accepting my excuse. “Where’s Patrick?”
“He’s with a woman.”
“Big fucking surprise. You didn’t stop him?” Stuart cuts angry hazel eyes at me, but I’m in no mood.
“What Patrick does on his own time is his business.” My tone matches his in sternness, but it changes when I add the last part. “Besides, I think this one’s different.”
His brow lines. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I was with him when he met her. It was strange.” I think back to last night, the pretty girl who walked straight up to him as if she were reading his mind. “She had some kind of… power over him.”
“Are you trying to say he’s imprinting?”
I cut him a look as our waitress appears, and we pause our conversation.
“What can I get for you two?” She gives Stuart a little wink, but he’s not receptive.
“Steak and eggs with a side of bacon. Hold the toast.”
She does a little smirk. “In the mood for some protein, I see.”
He only grunts and hands over his menu.
“I’ll have the house omelet with wheat toast,” I say, with a slight smile. It earns me a wink.
“You got it, sugar. And I’ll keep the coffee coming. Let me know if you need anything else.”
She sashays away, and Stuart leans forward against the table. “We need Patrick to get his ass here now. Did you call him?”
Shaking my head, I lift my coffee. “He’ll be here.”
If I’m right about what’s happening to him, I don’t have the heart to disturb him, especially after my disappointing wake-up.
“Well, I’m not wasting time. Tell me what happened.”
“He got a lead on Alison’s killer.” Leaning forward in the booth, I lower my voice. “It was an ambush. We walked into a nest. I had to shoot us out.”
A low whistle, and he lifts his coffee. “How many?”
“Couldn’t say. We were led to believe it would only be one. We saw three, and one of them was... Old.”
Stuart makes a disgusted face. “The older they get, the weirder they get.”
“No shit. I can still see that fucked-up grin.”
Patrick’s breezy voice interrupts us. “Morning, ladies! Captain Asshat. I assume you’re here to bust my balls.”
“Where the fuck have you been?”
“Heaven, big brother.” He drops into the booth beside me, his player grin in full effect. “I have been in heaven. And it smells like honeysuckle and tastes like sugar.”
“You smell like you’ve been eating honeysuckle all night,” Stuart sniffs.
“Jealous?”
Our waitress is back, and she’s more than happy to see our new addition. “Hey there, darling.”
“Hey, Polly,” Patrick beats her to the wink, and I am not surprised he knows her name. “Can I get the Spanish omelet with a side of bacon?”
“Sure thing, handsome. Coffee?”
“No thanks. O.J.”
She smiles and heads for the kitchen, and he turns back to me. “Have you filled him in?”
“Derek says you’ve had a little change overnight? Met your mate?”
Irritation flashes in Patrick’s eyes. “That’s none of your damned business. I’m talking about our case.”
Everything changes when Stuart laughs. “Shit. You did.” He shakes his head and looks at his coffee. “Can you keep your head in the game?”
Patrick’s hackles are up, and I see the muscle in his jaw move. Last thing I need is for these two to start fighting. Even if Stuart is the oldest, the alpha, his younger brother still kicks against his authority.
Reaching over, I slap his shoulder. “Patrick’s with us. Now let’s focus.” My voice lowers again. “We’ve got to find out as much as we can about this nest—how many, how old. If it’s truly our target, we need to get back there tonight before they regroup.”
Stuart’s expression is grim. “If you surprised them early last night, they’ve had plenty of time to prepare for us. How sure are you about our intel?”
The waitress appears with a busboy carrying a large black tray and our orders. We wait as they put everything in front of us and ensure we have all we need. As soon as they’re gone, Patrick answers him.
“Based on what I read in Sloan’s notes, this could be the one. We can’t walk away.”
Stuart cuts his eyes to his little brother. “The actual killer?”
Patrick nods as he puts a bite of beans, cheese, and sour cream wrapped in