“If you say so,” she said, settling into the passenger seat. Rickart closed the door for her, and Beth waved out the window when Odilia honked and pulled away. But they were soon following her down the driveway.
Beth sat silent and patient as they headed out of the gates and turned onto the road. She even managed to keep her mouth shut for the first ten minutes of the drive, but finally she couldn’t stand it anymore and said, “I notice you seem to know where I live.”
Rickart jerked his head toward her and then glanced to Magnus in the back seat before facing forward again and muttering something unintelligible.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that,” Beth said lightly. “Was that, ‘Why yes, Beth, we all know, thanks to Magnus following you around like a dog for the last century, spying on you?’”
Rickart turned to her sharply, his jaw hanging open until Magnus said mildly, “Watch the road, Rickart.”
There was silence for a moment after Rickart turned his attention back to traffic, and then Magnus cleared his throat and asked, “Scotty told you?”
“No. Matias read it from his mind,” Beth said grimly, crossing her arms over her chest and peering out at the passing cars.
“He asked me to do that only to keep you safe,” Magnus said quietly.
“I don’t know why. He doesn’t seem to want me for his life mate,” she snapped, and then couldn’t resist asking, “Does he?”
Even Beth winced at the pitifully hopeful tone to her voice. Cripes, she was turning into one of those pathetic women who chased after men they knew ultimately didn’t want them.
“He is struggling,” Magnus said solemnly after a moment. Which meant no, he didn’t want her, Beth translated.
“Why? With what?” she asked urgently, finally turning in her seat to look at him.
Magnus hesitated and then shook his head apologetically. “I cannot tell you that. You will have to find out for yourself. But I would advise you to get him to talk about his mother.”
“His mother,” Beth muttered, and flopped back around in her seat. “It always comes down to the mother, doesn’t it?”
“Except when it comes down to the father,” he said with amusement, and Beth grimaced. She’d had her own daddy issues. No doubt Magnus was reminding her of that. But she’d sorted through those. It’d taken a hundred years, but she’d done it. It seemed, however, if she was understanding Magnus right, that after eight hundred years, Scotty still had mommy issues. Great!
“Here we are,” Rickart announced moments later as he pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building. “Do you want me to stay with the car? Or come up with you guys?”
Magnus didn’t hesitate. “Accompany us in case there is trouble.”
Beth didn’t comment. She didn’t really think Rickart was needed, but there was no reason to make him wait in the car like some chauffeur either.
There was something about having two six-foot-plus men on either side of you that made an elevator slightly claustrophobic, Beth decided as she watched the floor numbers light up on the panel over the door. This time there was no bratty kid pushing all the buttons, or even anyone else on the elevator needing to get off to slow them down. They reached her floor relatively quickly and Beth led them to her door. But when she went to put her key in, Magnus covered her hand.
“Allow me,” he said and took over opening the door.
Beth rolled her eyes with irritation at being treated like a damsel in distress, but stepped back and left him to it.
The apartment didn’t blow up when the door opened, but Magnus made her wait in the hall with Rickart while he checked the interior. Presumably for intruders or traps. She didn’t ask. Beth was too busy resenting the fact that she was being treated like some mortal civilian. She could’ve checked for traps and intruders too, or at least helped him do it. She was a Rogue Hunter too.
“All clear,” Magnus announced when he finally returned to the door.
“Thank you,” Beth said dryly, and entered her temporary home.
“Nice place,” Rickart commented as he followed.
“It’s a sublet,” she told him, heading into the kitchen to grab a bag of blood. She should have had one when she’d woken up but had been too eager to get out of the bedroom before Scotty woke to bother. “I took it until the start of fall. Hopefully by then Dree and the others will be back, and I’ll have a better idea where I’ll be stationed.”
“You do not think you will continue to work here?” Magnus asked with curiosity.
“I don’t know,” Beth admitted. “Dree and Harper have a place here in Toronto, but they spend a lot of time in some little town further south, Port something or other.” She shrugged. “We’ll see.”
Taking the bag with her, she moved out of the kitchen and started across the living room toward the bedroom, saying, “There’s juice and blood in the fridge. The TV remote’s on the table. Make yourselves at home. I shouldn’t be long.”
Once in the bedroom, Beth popped the blood to her fangs and then walked to the closet to survey her choices. That was when she realized she might take a little longer than she’d expected. She really had no idea what to pack. How long was she going to be stuck at the Enforcer house? What was she likely to need while there? Was there a possibility she’d go out for dinner or something—say, on a date? And what would look most attractive to Scotty?
Yeah, that last question told her just how deep she’d got into things. Beth had never worried about what a date would want to see her in before. She’d always dressed for herself. She was definitely starting to care a little too much for Laird Cullen “Scotty” MacDonald. And likely to get her heart broken unless she could figure out what his issue was with his mother and how that might stop him from claiming her.
Beth had originally thought his issue must have something to do with her profession as a mortal. A lot of people would have trouble with taking on a life mate who used to be a prostitute. But she couldn’t imagine that Lady MacDonald had been a prostitute.
Sighing, Beth pulled the empty bag from her fangs and tossed it on the dresser for now. She then dragged out her overnight bags, only to turn around and put them back and retrieve a suitcase instead. Who knew how long it was going to take to sort out this business of someone trying to kill her? She might need clothes for a good long stay. Aside from that, she planned to pack for any eventuality.
“What?” Scotty stared at Mortimer blankly.