“What is he?” I asked. “If we’re this up in arms, he has to be something big, right?”
“He’s a werecat of some kind,” my father said. “But his exact species is unknown. No one has seen him in his true form and ever lived to talk about it. It’s speculated he’s the last of his kind, which is why we’re unfamiliar with his scent. The cat population has decreased to the point of extinction over the last few hundred years, and he is much, much older than that. He’s ruthless and extremely dangerous. His common aliases are David West, Dean Raith, and Connor Dade. And those are only a few.” My father eyed me. “He rarely uses his given name, and most don’t even know it.”
“How do you know it, then?” I asked.
My father looked past me. “I hired him to fight with us a long time ago.”
“He came to battle with you?”
“He did. He killed everything in his path without shifting. He fulfilled his duty to me. I paid him. He left. We forged no further bond.”
I mulled this over in my brain. He must’ve been skilled with a sword or some weapon to go to war and not shift. James and my father were that strong, depending on who they were up against, but not relying on your true form to aid you in battle was almost unheard of these days.
My father added, “And you won’t be going anywhere near him this evening. Or any other evening after for that matter.”
Well … hell.
I’d heard of Connor Dade. In my profession, you came across notable stories about bounty hunters and mercs all the time. Connor Dade’s reputation was well known. The last thing you always heard after a recounting of one of his exploits was “Whatever you do, don’t fuck with Connor Dade.”
I was less familiar with his other aliases, but the one I knew was more than enough. “Let’s look at this logically for a moment, shall we?” I said, fighting to be heard. “If Colin Rourke used his real name, and he knows who I really am already, he’d most likely count on me finding out who he was.” If I was a smarter person to begin with. “He can’t be out to kill me if he told me his real name. Right? He dealt us a hand, and now he wants to play.” Sneaky sucker.
The noise level quieted as the wolves chewed on that.
“Listen, he deliberately told me who he was,” I pointed out again, not wanting to lose my audience. “He could’ve used any name on the planet, especially if he was trying to lure me away. Screw that, he could’ve jumped me himself instead of the rogue. And if what you’re telling me is true, he would’ve been successful, and all this would be a moot point right now because I’d be dead.”
My father grumbled but stayed silent. Tyler stopped pacing.
“This is reading like a go-to, not a jump,” I insisted. “Maybe he has something to share, or knows who’s after me. Who knows? But telling me who he was when he’s had known contact with my father doesn’t make any sense. And how did he know I wouldn’t recognize his name from the start? That you hadn’t shared it with me a long time ago?” I looked over at my father and raised an eyebrow. “Which may have been a good idea in retrospect, with me being a P.I. and all.”
Tyler reluctantly said, “Jessica has a point. There has to be some kind of angle here. Someone like Rourke doesn’t just pop in and announce himself to the world like that. He’s a threat to our Pack, and just being in our territory without permission is enough for us to go after him.”
Sly bastard. He knew I’d meet with him, even when I found out who he was. He was banking on it.
“He’s not stupid,” Elliot Murphy added. “He’d know without a doubt the Pack would recognize his name.” His pale, freckled skin now seemed a few shades lighter. “It also seems he knows who Jessica is already. It’s a ballsy move. I have to agree, he must have something to share, because calling to announce he’s here is not his standard M.O. He’s a brutal bastard. If he was hired for a kill, he would not give fair warning.” He finished with a little lingering awe in his tone.
“He honored our contract during the war,” James stated. “He showed up and fought hard for our side. He did not strike me as a man who would kill a female without provocation and I don’t have that impression now. He doesn’t take jobs because he has to; he takes them because he wants them. Killing Jessica doesn’t feel like something he would sign up for.”
“How do you know that?” Cliff Delano asked.
James shrugged. “Because that’s not what I would do.”