Betrayed: Days of the Rogue (28 page)

A bell sounded and a guard tapped
on the door. “Time is up, sir.”

“In a minute,” Reno barked at the
man.

“But, sir—”

“Come now, Reno. You know you have
to follow the rules. I’d hate to have to report that you’re
harassing me. You’d be in contravention of the Fair and Just
Treatment of the Confined Act. It’s outlined in the Book of the
Law.” Victor gave mocking smile.

Reno got to his feet, grumbling
under his breath while Victor stretched his arms and then
interlaced his fingers before placing them behind his head.

“It was nice of you to visit,
Smith. Do come again.” He smirked. “I’ll think of you during my
extra ten minutes of exercise.”

It was all Reno could do to keep
from knocking the self-satisfied look off the man’s face, but he
managed to control himself until he was out of the building. Only
inside the confines of his vehicle did he let out the string of
curses he’d been suppressing for the last half hour. Damn, that
bastard knew exactly how to get under his skin!

Finally, feeling calmer, he pulled
out of the parking lot, and began to make his way back to Lycan
Link while mulling over what he’d learned. It hadn’t been a lot,
more a confirmation of what he already knew. However, the question
remained as to how this Purist sect was convincing the rogues to
act as assassins. Victor hinted that they were being manipulated
rather than paid. And the man was correct when he said rogues were
notoriously difficult to deal with. So how did you manipulate them?
He scowled wishing he could find one, just one rogue to interview.
If he could, then the case could be blown wide open. Unfortunately,
Rogue Retrieval methods usually resulted in the death of the rogues
involved, and that meant tracking down who was manipulating them
nigh on to impossible.

Reno drummed his fingers on the
steering wheel as he paused at a traffic light. He could visit
Victor again, try to squeeze more information out of the bastard,
but that took time. It would be another week before he could visit
the man again without being in danger of a harassment charge. And a
week might be too late. Another Fae could be dead by then.

Chapter 25

Eve shoved her hands in her pocket
and walked briskly away from Rafe’s house. The man was a control
freak and she wouldn’t put up with it. And his opinion of Damien
made her blood boil!

Yes, at first Damien had been
surly, but over the past few days she’d watched the man, seen the
sadness on his face, the loneliness. She wanted to comfort him,
soothe the furrows from his brow, make him smile. Something about
him called to her, made her feel a connection, which was strange
given the fact that she’d yet to read him empathically. A hint of
guilt washed over; she’d repeatedly tested her skills on both
Damien and Rafe but had come up blank. Well, now she knew why that
was the case with Rafe, but it still left Damien as a big question
mark. Was he Fae, too? Perhaps, but wouldn’t Rafe have mentioned
the fact? Unless Rafe didn’t want to talk about Damien. Their
relationship was damned confusing. Given how Rafe often acted, she
was surprised he kept Damien around. She shook her head, unable to
make any sense out of the situation.

Spying a large rock, she used it as
a chair and sat down. The sun had burnt off the early mist and she
now had a clear view of the area. This side of Rafe’s house faced a
meadow of sorts and was dotted with early spring flowers and clumps
of fresh grass. A few song birds twittered in the distance, while
the sun’s rays beat down warmly on her shoulders. Tension drained
from her body, the earth seeming to soak up the negative energy and
replace it with a feeling of peace and relaxation.

Propping her chin in her hand, she
stared at the tree line where, from her bedroom window, she’d seen
deer grazing earlier. She’d also noticed that a family of rabbits
lived under a nearby bush. Perhaps she should consider adding a
series of wildlife paintings to her exhibit.

Wildlife.

Uh-oh.

Eve froze in place and cautiously
turned her head, studying the shed, the bushes, stand of trees in
the distance. In her pique with Rafe, she’d totally forgotten about
the wolf. The strange ‘being watched’ feeling hadn’t plagued her
since she’d been here, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was
safe. It was obviously still in the area. Was the animal poised and
ready to pounce on her? There didn’t seem to be anything around,
but she really shouldn’t be going for a walk. With a sigh, she
realized that meant she was stuck inside the house with Rafe
again.

Her stomach began to knot at the
very idea. True, she often enjoyed his company. He was quiet yet
seemed to listen intently to everything she said. When he did
speak, it was always deep and insightful, inspiring interesting
conversations. And he had a dry sense of humour that made her
laugh… If only she could get a handle on how he felt about her. Two
nights in a row now he’d wanted her, and the other morning in the
kitchen he’d seemed possessive. Yet at the same time he said he
wasn’t looking for a relationship; that because they were both Fae,
it couldn’t work. Yet, if that was the case, why was he acting as
if he were jealous of Damien?

She ran her hands through her hair.
God, she hated it when people said their status was complicated yet
here she was in the same situation!

A sound from behind had her
spinning around, muscles tensed and ready to run only to relax when
she saw it was Rafe. Before he could speak, she started
talking.

“I know, I know. I can’t go
wandering around. It’s dangerous out here.”

He nodded. “Glad you realize it.”
His expression was as deadpan as when she’d first met him save for
telltale twitching of the muscle in his jaw. “If you want to spend
some time outside—maybe do some drawing—I can stay with you and act
as a lookout.”

Surprised by the offer, she studied
him, noting his calm tone, and relaxed stance. If it wasn’t for
that little twitch, no one would ever suspect he was upset. Knowing
this must be his attempt at a peace offering, she agreed. “I’d like
that. I’ll grab my sketchpad while you go find your gun.”

“Gun? Oh. Right.”

They each gathered what they
needed, casting the occasional glance at each other, neither
seeming to want to break the momentary truce. Eve settled back on
the rock and began to do some studies of the local plants, while
Rafe sat on the ground not far away, the gun lying at his side.

Time ticked past, the sun warming
her shoulders and the occasional drone of a bee helping to ease the
tension of their earlier disagreement. It was a pleasant
companionable silence and she cast a glance at Rafe, a smile
hovering on her lips as she took in his profile. His eyes were at
half-mast and he appeared deep in thought. Flipping to a new page
in her book, she began to draw him with sure, quick strokes of her
pencil. There was something about his posture that she itched to
capture; it was confident and relaxed, yet there was an undeniable
awareness about him as if he was completely attuned to his
surroundings.

She managed to complete several
sketches before he finally looked her way, the corner of his mouth
quirking. Darn, it appeared he’d known what she was about.

Expecting him to make a comment,
she was surprised when he merely stood up and stretched. “I’m going
to go for a short walk around the meadow. I’ll keep you in sight so
you don’t have to worry.”

“All right.” She’d been going to
ask to go with him, but decided not to push her luck. Things were
good between them right now. Best not to rock the boat. Cool and
distant seemed to be the way he wanted things, so that’s what she’
do.

Rafe walked the perimeter of the
meadow, testing the air and casually noting the signs left by
various forms of wildlife. He hadn’t had time to patrol this area
lately; keeping watch over Damien and Eve had taken up most of his
time. A short morning run was all he allowed himself and, with Eve
around, it had to be in human form. His wolf missed roaming freely.
Even at his home near the clinic there was a ravine where the wolf
could go for a run.

She’d spent the last half hour
studying him, her gaze moving from his face to his chest, and lower
still, before sweeping back up only to repeat the process. It had
been soothing, almost as if she were stroking him over and over.
His limbs had relaxed and his lids had felt heavy. Indeed, he could
have fallen into a trance if he hadn’t been guarding her.

He looked back to where she was
sitting. There was almost a glow coming off her that most would
attribute to a mere trick of the sunlight on her hair, but he knew
better. The Fae in her was growing stronger, tapping into the
natural energy in the world around her as she progressed through
the Awakening. Did she hear the whispering of the trees yet, he
wondered? Sense the hum of creation? As only a one-quarter Fae, he
lacked the same strong connection that a more pure-blooded Fae
might have. That was the price he paid for being able to shift.

“
Would you rather talk to a
shrub than me?”
His wolf looked at him out of the corner of its
eyes, its tone offended.

“Of course, not. Trees don’t have
an opinion on anything.” Rafe countered in his head.

“
Trees don’t talk at all,”
his wolf corrected. The creature really was too pedantic at
times
. “They just stand there giving indistinct whispers. At
least that’s what the Fae would have us believe.”
The beast
then sniffed, obviously suspicious of that claim.

“Which is why I much prefer having
you.” Rafe assured his inner animal ignoring its last comment. His
wolf loved a good debate, and was prone to making inflammatory
remarks just so it could enjoy the argument that ensued. Now,
however, was not the time.

The creature subsided, content that
it was appreciated and Rafe chuckled softly. With one more glance
at Eve, he continued his examination of this corner of his
territory.

There was nothing out of the
ordinary…except a few paw prints. They had him biting back a growl
as memories of Damien’s defiance came to mind. His self-control was
being stretched to the—

He stopped mid-thought, his brain
registering something. About to move on, he now paused and examined
the paw prints again, noting the wolf’s stride. Definitely a wolf,
but were they really Damien’s? Damien had an almost imperceptible
limp that should be notable in the pattern of his gait. He tried to
bring an image of Damien’s tracks to mind, but wasn’t positive.
Crouching down, Rafe studied the prints more carefully. They were
new enough that there should have been a scent, but there wasn’t.
Picking up a piece of the soil, he brought it up to his nose and
focussed all his attention on the sample. There was nothing except
a faint residue of flowers.

His hand curled into a fist,
crushing the clump of dirt into powder as a nasty suspicion came to
mind. Rising to his feet, he glanced back at Eve. She was still
sitting on the rock, sketching.

Keeping half his attention on her,
Rafe began to follow the tracks, continually testing the air, yet
finding no trace of wolf. A small tuft of fur was caught on a
branch and he plucked it off; it was black like Damien’s.

No scent, but definitely a wolf
present. He was beginning to build a picture and it wasn’t a pretty
one. Pulling out his cell phone, he called Reno.

“Smith here.”

“Reno, what kind of game are you
playing here?”

“Game? Rafe, I don’t—”

“Don’t try to bullshit me. You’ve
got Damien planted as a mole snooping around here, and I want to
know why.”

“Damien, a mole? Now what makes you
think that?”

“Wolf tracks. Tracks that have no
scent. Rumours have been circulating for ages that Lycan Link’s
developed scent masking technology.” He shook his head, unable to
believe Reno would stoop so low. “Now, I’ll ask you again, why is
Lycan Link spying on me? Are they investigating my last case? Or
wondering why I demanded an investigation of Rogue Retrieval? Is it
the funding money?”

“To the best of my knowledge there
are no operatives in your area. And the scent mask is considered
classified information.” The creak of leather could be heard as
Reno settled back in his chair.

“Yeah and no one knows about the
tooth fairy either.” He snorted. Did Reno really believe there was
such a thing as a secret within the walls of Lycan Link? “Cut the
crap. If it’s not Damien then who else has access to the scent
mask?”

“No one. At least not legal
access.”

Rafe paced back and forth, still
keeping an eye on Eve, while weighing the veracity of Reno’s tone.
He exhaled gustily. “All right. I’ll assume you’re telling me the
truth.”

“That’s big of you.”

He ignored Reno’s comment and
continued. “Then why would Damien—a rogue Enforcer—be using an
illegally acquired scent mask and conducting surveillance on
me?”

“No reason I can think of. What
makes you suspect that?”

“A tuft of black fur, tracks around
the perimeter of my yard and no scent. What other conclusion could
I come to?”

“Shit.”

“What?”

“You’ve just provided me with the
missing puzzle piece.”

“What puzzle?” Rafe gripped the
phone tighter.

“I can’t tell you, but things will
be resolved soon.”

“Reno—” He started to protest, but
the other man had already hung up.

Rafe put his phone away while
cursing under his breath. He didn’t have a clue as to what Reno was
talking about. All he knew was that he didn’t want Eve involved in
anything dangerous, and for that he needed to keep her near him so
he could protect her. The best place for that was inside, but
ordering her around wasn’t going to get him very far, especially
not after their earlier blow up.