Finlay felt his brain was being tugged in all directions and he couldn’t wait for the evening to be over. The most important thing, according to Morgan, was being hospitable to their guests, and as far as Finlay was concerned, he’d done that.
The food served by discreet staff was wholesome and cooked exactly to any discerning paranormal’s specifications.
The catering company had clearly used organic ingredients, heavily meat-based, and the meat that had been served was only lightly seasoned, and, in most cases, barely cooked.
Perfect in other words. So there was nothing to upset any of the guests.
Finlay knew most of the attendees already, so it wasn’t as though conversation was an issue. Not that there was much of that going on either – shifters preferred to eat and then talk.
It stemmed from wolf shifter lore that stated if an Alpha ate with someone, it meant they didn’t intend on killing that person – at least that day. The meal was a gesture of friendship so to speak, but no serious topics would be discussed until after the meal was done.
It appeared the leading vampire in the room, Lord Falcon, and his coven members remembered that unspoken rule from the previous year’s events and kept their chatter to in between courses.
So, everything was good on the event side of things. Morgan should be happy about that. But it’s what he’d said in the car on the way to the event that was bothering Finlay more than he could let on.
“I’m thinking of stepping down and leaving the pack.” The words fell like a knife between them. Morgan had barely gotten the car out of the driveway before he just blurted them out.
“Gods, you seriously are in a funk, aren’t you? You can’t leave the pack.” Finlay said the first words that came into his head. “You’re the Alpha. Dad chose you as heir and you trained to be in that position for years before he died. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.”
“It is what I wanted.” Morgan sounded almost savage, although Finlay wondered if his brother’s anger was more internally directed than meant for him.
“But that was back when I thought I was a decent man. When I believed I could rule the pack with honor, and make our father proud. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. ”
Now Finlay was confused. “What the hell changed then? You do all that and more. I know you think the elders are on your case about mating and all that, but if you remember Dad used to complain about them, too. Just remind them you’re the Alpha and get them to back off.
Tell them you’re waiting for your Fated Mate and refuse to listen if they keep harping on about it. ”
“I won’t get a Fated Mate.” Now Morgan sounded bitter. “People who do cruel things to innocents don’t get to meet the one fated for them. That’s not how it works.”
Cruel? Finlay didn’t understand it. If anything, Morgan was too nice, which was why he didn’t tell the pack elders to just back off and leave him alone.
“Don’t do anything rash,” he said quickly as he saw they were drawing up to the convention center.
“You’ve been under a lot of stress, and I haven’t been helping as much as I should have.
We’ll talk, yeah? Get this business tonight over and done with, and after I’ve had some sleep, I’ll come over, and we can chat.
Or you can come to mine if you think it’ll be more private there. I’m sure we can work something out.”
Morgan had just snorted, and as Lord Falcon and his entourage had been waiting for them in the parking lot it wasn’t as though Finlay could say anything else.
The moment Morgan stepped out of the car he was the Alpha their father had raised him to be – smiling politely but not too effusively, reminding those attending he was the ruler of the biggest paranormal group for miles around, in a subtle way Finlay had never been able to pull off.
So there was that, and the worry of being left a pack he had no idea how to run, or inclination, should’ve been enough.
But there was something else tingling Finlay’s wolf senses, and as Finlay relied on his wolf for his life and had done on more than one occasion, he went through the motions of eating and conversing, trying to filter through the sensations coming through his senses.
Something… or someone was getting his wolf in a tizzy.
But who and why? Finlay wasn’t perceiving any threat. The guests were all friends as much as powerful paranormals could be when they all came together, and his wolf wasn’t picking up on any negative vibes from anyone.
The staff wasn’t ringing any alarm bells either.
The two women were nervous, but that was understandable.
All non-paras with an ounce of preservation would feel that way in a room full of Alpha figures.
The male servers were just as nervous, quiet and efficient.
Finlay watched one of them a few times – his nameplate said “Wyatt.” But again, it seemed Wyatt was just easily distracted.
But he put his plates down without spilling anything and his colleague, someone called Brennan, only had to nudge him a few times.
So if it wasn’t the staff and it wasn’t the guests, then who? The cooking staff belonging to the catering company had all left when he and Morgan arrived. The head chef had introduced the wait staff, and yet… There has to be someone else with them. Someone who hasn’t been introduced. Why?
Finlay watched the staff in between the courses, keeping a half an ear on his brother, making polite chit chat when spoken to but not engaging more than necessary.
His behavior wouldn’t be considered unusual.
Morgan was always known as the more outgoing brother, and the Alpha as host was playing his part perfectly despite the bombshell he’d dropped in the car.
He got his first clue as to the other person when one of the serving ladies went through into the prep room.
The door was only open a moment, but Finlay distinctly heard a male voice speaking to her.
He quickly scanned the room, but all three male servers and the other female one were still tending to tables.
All through the courses, Finlay only heard the voice twice more.
Both times, it was as if the sound resonated with something deep inside of him – it definitely perked up his wolf, but not in a threatening sort of a way.
It was more like a puzzle Finlay was itching to solve, a present he wanted to unwrap.
“Did you want to take a coffee through with you to the meeting?” Morgan asked as the last of the food was eaten. “We’re about ready to go through to the other room.” The servers had all disappeared into the room out the back, and Finlay spotted the coffee tray set out near the door to that room.
“I’ll get us both a cup,” he said, jumping out of his chair. “You escort your guests through, and I’ll be there in a moment.”
Standing near the coffee pot, Finlay must have broken the world record for the longest time it took to make two cups of black coffee. The door to the back room was closed, but Finlay had very sharp hearing.
It would seem the mystery person didn’t talk a lot, but then Finlay heard the scrape of a chair, and the voice spoke again in response to something one of the other men had said.
The man sounded amused, but that moment was quickly lost as the door opened and the staff came out, heading for the tables.
Picking up the cups quickly, Finlay walked past just as the door was swinging closed and caught the glimpse of a slender back and a long silver plait hanging down against a black shirt before the door closed fully. Definitely not one of the servers.
I need to know who you are. Finlay didn’t know why exactly, but as he went through to the meeting with his brother and his guests, he was already forming excuses he could make to his brother on why he had to leave the meeting again.
And fast. It wasn’t going to take forever for the efficient staff to clear the room and head for home, and one could assume the mystery man, whoever he was, would be leaving with them.