Page 7 of Predator (Stope Packs #4)
Jackson pressed his palm against Emily’s lower back as he escorted her inside the building. The woman wore dark jeans, shiny brown boots, and a light green sweater beneath a leather jacket that made her look fresh and sexy as hell.
City Hall was spacious and impressive, with polished granite walls that gleamed beneath the warm glow of the wrought-iron chandeliers. The floor was a mosaic of dark slate and lighter granite tiles arranged in a pattern that echoed the mountains surrounding the town. Antique mining tools—pickaxes, lanterns, and rusted helmets—were displayed in glass cases along one wall, a tribute to the pack’s history. Vintage photographs of miners at work lined the opposite wall, their sepia tones lending a sense of legacy to the space.
“My office is up here.” Jackson steered her toward a broad staircase of granite steps that curved elegantly to the second floor. The wooden handrail had been worn smooth from years of use, and the hint of pine and stone lingered in the air.
“This is a nice building.” Emily’s fingers trailed lightly along the polished banister.
Jackson couldn’t suppress the flicker of pride warming his chest. He also had the oddest urge to be a banister. “Thanks.”
They reached the top landing, which opened to a wide hallway lined with three offices. Jackson led her to the middle one and knocked lightly before stepping inside. The smell of flowers assaulted him. “Raya, I’d like you to meet Emily Nightsom.”
Raya pushed away from the bookshelf and Thane, her face flushed. “Um, Thane was just checking in on the, um, supplies for the south tunnel.”
Thane grinned and leaned against the wall. Jackson’s best friend had been dating Raya for months, although the female always seemed to deny it. “Seriously?”
Jackson shook his head, his gaze caught on the numerous bouquets behind Raya’s desk on her credenza. “I couldn’t care less if you two date, but if you break up, don’t be assholes. I need you both.” He looked down at Emily. “This is Raya Ashthorne, who runs the pack, and Thane Stormridge, who’s in charge of schedules, security, and some of the finances.” Plus, he was Jackson’s oldest friend.
Thane gave a half bow. He was nearly seven feet tall and lean with an impressive brain. “It’s nice to meet you, Emily.” He strode toward the door. “I need to install new security cameras this morning since the older ones were hacked and melted. I’ll see you later tonight after my patrol, Raya.” Then he disappeared.
Raya stood behind her desk, smoothing her blouse before stepping forward with an extended hand. “All of these flowers behind me are for you from pack members.” Her dark eyes reflected a mix of curiosity and disbelief. “It’s very nice to meet you. I understand you’re going to help Jackson find a mate?”
Emily’s smile didn’t waver. “That’s the plan,” she replied smoothly, her eyes flicking toward Jackson, who fought the urge to roll his shoulders. Had she been serious? He couldn’t quite tell, and the uncertainty irritated him. “I’d love to speak with you about your university program and any other modernization initiatives. Our pack is a bit behind, and I’d appreciate your insight.”
Raya’s smile brightened. “That sounds wonderful. I’d be happy to discuss all of our programs.”
Jackson interjected before Emily could answer. “Not tonight. It has been a long day.”
“Okay. We’ll find a time.” Raya reached for her notepad. “For now, I’ve already arranged for you to stay in the hotel penthouse, and I can have all of these bouquets sent over.”
Jackson winced. “It smells like a funeral home. There are too many of them.”
“Thank you for the reservation.” Emily smiled politely, though she shot Jackson a sideways glance. “The flowers are lovely, but they are a bit overwhelming. I don’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings.”
Jackson shoved down an inexplicable pang of irritation. It wasn’t as if he’d planned for Emily to stay at his place, but somehow, the thought of her alone at the hotel felt wrong. Shaking off the feeling, he gestured toward the door. “I’ll take you and your luggage over once we’re finished here.”
Raya tapped her notepad. “If you want, I can have the bouquets taken to the closest hospital, about an hour away. Pack members will appreciate that you want to brighten the day of others, even humans.”
“Thank you,” Emily murmured.
As they stepped into the hallway, Emily’s shoulder brushed his arm, a fleeting touch that sent a pulse of heat through him. He glanced at her, but she kept her gaze forward, the hint of a smile playing at her lips. Jackson swallowed hard, cursing the sudden tension that coiled low in his spine. “I’ll show you my office.”
“Sounds good,” she said.
Jackson’s stride slowed as he spotted Warren Blount and his eldest grandson standing outside his doorway. “Blount,” Jackson said, his tone clipped. “I’m a little busy right now.”
Warren Blount, a tough old man nearing two centuries, stood with his beaked nose and steel-gray eyes that seemed to pry into one’s soul. His thin lips curled as he sniffed the air, nostrils flaring slightly before his gaze landed on Emily. “You must be Emily Nightsom.”
“I must be,” she replied smoothly, her smile polite but cool.
Jackson’s hackles rose, heat prickling beneath his skin as he forced a tight smile. “What do you need, Warren?”
Warren inclined his head toward his grandson. “Zylas and I wanted to have a little discussion with you.”
Zylas stepped forward, eyes locking on Emily. He was broad-shouldered for his age, around eighteen, with light blond hair and sharp blue eyes that seemed too intense for his years. “Hi, I’m Zylas.” He held out a hand large enough to swallow hers.
Emily shook it, her lips curving into a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m an Alpha.”
“Are you, now?” she replied lightly. “That must be lovely for you.” She glanced at Jackson.
How fucking irritating. “Again. What do you need, Warren?” Jackson didn’t bother masking the edge in his tone.
“Someone is brazen enough to attack our mines more than once, and you haven’t caught them,” Warren said, his tone weighted with disapproval. “I think you should consider stepping down.”
Jackson’s gaze locked onto Warren’s, unblinking until the older man glanced aside. “I’m not stepping anywhere. We’ll find out who’s responsible.”
Zylas shifted his stance, a grin playing across his lips as he looked at Emily. “Ms. Nightsom, would you like to have a drink with me? Our local bar stocks rare whisky.”
“You’re not old enough to drink,” Jackson interjected sharply. His pulse kicked harder than it should have as he cut the kid off. Everyone seemed to want a piece of Emily. He gently gripped her arm to remind himself—and anyone watching—that she was with him.
Warren sighed, filling the air with the smell of butterscotch. “Jackson, you’re not doing the job we need as Alpha. You’ve been goofing off constantly with parties and females, and that’s fine, but it’s time for you to step down.”
Jackson calmed. Completely. The old man had no clue how he’d been spending his damn nights, and it wasn’t partying with females. At least, it hadn’t been in years. “Or what?”
Warren gulped. “You’ll be challenged. I mean, probably.”
“Thank you for the warning.” Jackson allowed his Alpha voice to deepen. “But I have things under control.”
“No, you don’t,” Warren replied, his voice firm, his gaze still averted. “Things haven’t been under control for a while now. Are you sure you want to lead this pack?”
“I really do,” Jackson said dryly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Without waiting for a response, he steered Emily into his office. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, he released her, but not before his fingers lingered just a beat too long against her skin, heat sparking between them.
The air seemed to hum with unsaid words, and Jackson stepped back, pulse drumming louder than it should have been.
Emily watched him with eyes that saw far too much, and the corner of her mouth lifted in the faintest of smiles. “That was interesting.” She walked over to sit in one of the two leather chairs across from his desk. The dark-brown leather was worn soft from years of use, its brass nailhead trim gleaming in the light from the antique desk lamp.
“You have no idea.” Jackson moved around the desk to settle in his chair. The deep creak of the old leather accompanied his movements. The chair had belonged to his great-grandfather, and Jackson liked the continuity of it, the history of generations behind him.
“What’s going on?” she asked, leaning forward slightly.
“I really don’t know.” He opened two manila files and laid them flat, sliding them toward her. Each contained photographs of recent mining incidents. “This one,”—he pointed to the first image—“was a collapse caused by someone weakening the support beams. The bolts were loosened just enough to fail when the pressure got too high. Nobody died, but workers were injured.”
She studied the image of twisted steel and shattered rock. “And this one?”
“The second was near the mine’s entrance. Someone jammed the ventilation system, cutting off the airflow and nearly suffocating a crew. The security cameras were disabled. It’s an old system, easy to tamper with.”
Emily tapped her finger against her lips, her gaze thoughtful. “Do you have suspects?”
He shrugged. “No idea. I can’t believe anybody would do this.”
“Well,” she mused, her tone turning speculative, “if you want, I can wander around town a little. Talk to people. Gather information for our pack’s modernization while I’m at it.”
“Yeah, that’d be great. But stay within the pack boundaries,” he said, his eyes locking on hers. “In fact, I’d prefer if you stayed in town.”
She blinked. “Why’s that, Jackson? Worried I’ll find myself another Alpha?”
His low chuckle rumbled through the room. “Not even close, baby. I’m worried about that kidnapping attempt months ago.”
“It wasn’t an attempt. They kidnapped me.” Her eyes darkened with irritation as she shook her head. “I was driving home after a meeting in town, and they ran me off the road. Three males dragged me out of the car and shoved a garlic-soaked burlap sack over my head so I couldn’t smell them. I fought back hard and got bruised up pretty good.”
Jackson’s fingers curled against the edge of his desk. “How’d you get free?” he asked, voice low and tempered but taut with suppressed anger.
“They threw me in the back of the van and started driving.” Emily’s voice was steady, but Jackson caught the edge beneath her words. “I did what I had to do.”
“You shifted in the back of a van?” His voice sharpened.
She clasped her hands in her lap. “I didn’t have a choice. They didn’t expect it.”
“I wouldn’t either,” he muttered. “You’re lucky you didn’t break every bone in your body.”
“No, I just bruised myself, hitting the sides. I jumped out the back and ran home. We still haven’t figured out who they were or what they wanted.”
That didn’t make a bit of sense. “They didn’t say anything?”
“Not a word. They were silent.”
“Then you probably knew them,” he murmured. “Or they would’ve spoken.”
She swallowed, her gaze flickering toward the window. “That’s my guess. I think maybe somebody wants to challenge my father.”
“What about Victor?” The name tasted bitter.
“I don’t think Vic would do something like that. Even though I couldn’t smell anything, I think I’d sense if it was my cousin. Plus, why would he kidnap me? If Vic wanted me out of the way, he’d have killed me—or at least tried to.”
Something low and fierce curled inside Jackson. The thought of anyone hurting her stirred a deep possessiveness he couldn’t quite name. His fingers curled against the desk, the solid wood grounding him as a primal need to shield her burned beneath his skin. “You don’t have one lead?”
“No. My father was in the middle of trying to take over the Copper Pack when it happened, and I’ve been healing at home since, so we haven’t been out and about much.” Determination hardened her pretty jaw. “When I get home, I will figure it out.”
He didn’t like the thought of her alone like that. “It’s late. How about I take you to your hotel?”
“That sounds excellent,” she said, her smile softening the tension between them. “By the way, you have a meeting at nine tomorrow morning with the first Alpha female I could find.”
Jackson sat back, the leather chair creaking beneath him. His pulse kicked against his ribs. “You weren’t joking about that?”
“No.” She chuckled. “I really wasn’t.”
Irritation coiled through him. “How many am I supposed to meet with in this farce?”
She lifted one shoulder, delicate and maddening. “Only six, but I plan to find more.”
“Emily,” he snapped, the growl low in his throat.
“Sorry, Jackson.” Her smile held challenge. “This is what you said you wanted.”
He could not believe this. “How did you even find six Alpha females?”
“I used the Internet. I put out a coded message explaining the situation and instantly received six replies. I believe if I check my inbox, there will be more.”
He held up a hand, the heat of frustration and something darker curling in his gut. “No. Absolutely not.” Although, he did need a mate. But he only saw Emily’s face when he thought about the future. Yet he understood her allegiance to her pack. If they mated, she’d be his. Not theirs.
She straightened. “Well, you have to meet with these six females. It would insult their packs otherwise.”
“None of them belong to the Stope Packs Coalition, do they?”
“Of course not. Don’t worry, Jackson.” She leaned forward, her gaze catching his with an intensity that seemed to press against his skin. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll have the perfect mate.”
Something about how she said the word mate made his blood heat for reasons that had nothing to do with matchmaking. The primal beast at his core raised its head, sensing a challenge.
He’d never lost one and didn’t plan to start now.