Wheeler awoke before dawn and spent three hours at his desk reading. He didn’t have a library of books because he preferred reading the news. It was more or less entertainment, since news among humans had no relevance in their lives for the most part. But then he stumbled across a local article about a suspected kidnapping. A witness driving by Club Sin had spotted a woman struggling with someone in a van. Wheeler read and dissected the article three times. He knew Club Sin. It was located in the Breed district just down the road from the Blue Door. According to the article, the manager had made a statement that all his dancers were accounted for.
Of course he had. If there was one thing they all knew, it was to keep their mouths shut around human law enforcement. Immortals were far too intelligent to reveal themselves to humans who, out of fear, would attempt in vain to exterminate them. Perhaps some immortals loved the comforts humans provided them, like modern technology, food, and entertainment. Most came from a time when men had been scavengers and a day’s meal was never guaranteed.
Wheeler took off his glasses and set them on the desk, easing back in his leather chair and rolling an unsharpened pencil between his fingers. He thought about the phone call Naya had received at the birthday party and her sudden change in behavior. She worked at Club Sin.
Naya. He closed his eyes, remembering how she’d bantered with him at the party, dishing back everything he served. That was an attractive quality to Wheeler; he became highly aroused by a confident woman with a dominant personality—more than the average wolf. Sometimes he’d hang out at the strip clubs because that’s how those women would portray themselves to be, but in conversation, very few could talk about anything of substance. Naya had a sharp tongue and, uncertain if she’d slap him in front of his pack, he’d eased off. After opening his crude mouth, Wheeler had felt a pang of guilt for the undeserved insults he’d given her, so he’d attempted to smooth things over by complimenting the color of her blouse. But she had turned away, engaged in small talk with April, and his kind words had fallen on deaf ears.
Then he thought about Ben sitting beside Naya and touching her.
Touching.
It incited the most unexpected reaction: jealousy. Wheeler’s wolf snapped and snarled within him—at his own brother.
They had always had a rocky past, but this riptide of emotion took him wholly by surprise. Jealousy over Naya? Granted, he’d fantasized about their kiss many times and despised himself for doing so, but maybe it was how well she’d delivered it. How soft and pliant her lush lips had been against his, the way she’d smelled like cookies and tasted like dark cherries.
Wheeler had a mouth on him, but he didn’t make lewd remarks to women like Ben did. His brother always managed to cross a line that went from flirtatious to perverse. Seeing his brother’s finger slide up her arm like a matchstick ready to ignite had almost made Wheeler flip the table over.
And that shouldn’t have happened.
Maybe it just boiled down to sexual infatuation. There was no denying Naya had feminine curves that made a man’s tongue want to measure the length of her body. She kept herself groomed. She had an exotic face, long lashes, and the most intense brown eyes he’d ever seen. She never wore ponytails or dressed down in sneakers. Naya polished her nails, waxed her legs, kept her hair in silky brown curls, and looked flawless with or without makeup. Even small touches like toe rings and anklets had never escaped his attention. Not the kind of woman he’d ever been with before. Someone so in control, so perfect and clean—untouched by the evils that lurked in their world.
He tossed the pencil on his desk and studied the tattoos on his arms. They weaved a long and silent story of his dark past.
A knock sounded at the door and he tensed.
“Got a minute?” Reno asked from the hall.
“Give me a second.” Wheeler fumbled with his glasses and hid them in a drawer. He crossed the room, stretching his back before he opened the door.
Reno gave him a flat look. “Mind if I come in?”
Wheeler returned to his desk chair and swiveled around to face the bed. “Shut the door. ’Preciate ya.”
Reno closed the door and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve got a case I’m working on and need to pick your brain. Remember when you had me look up a name that was coming up on wire exchanges for Sweet Treats back when the owner was still alive?”
Wheeler recalled the details immediately. Lexi’s old boss, Charles Langston, had died and left her the business. Wheeler had sorted through the files and discovered he’d been sending wire transactions to a man named Maddox Cane. Maddox had not only turned out to be a Shifter, but a loan shark as well.
“I remember,” Wheeler said.
Reno lowered his voice. “Maddox was one of two loan sharks circling April at the time. The other goes by the name Delgado. Sound familiar? Same guy Izzy’s ex was dealing drugs for. He’s been a problem that I want to solve, if you get my meaning.”
“What’s one thing have to do with the other?” Wheeler straightened his long legs and crossed them at the ankle.
Reno glanced at the news website pulled up on Wheeler’s laptop. “Did you hear about the Shifter who went missing at the strip club?”
“A sock goes missing, Reno. A woman is taken.”