Page 15 of The Reluctant Mate (Shifters of the Three Rivers #5)
Chapter fifteen
Derek
I knew she would be mad, knew it was possible she was never going to forgive me for this. But I hadn’t seen any other option. Telling Sam would have been too risky. He worked for the Council; his job was to see the big picture these days and I couldn’t gamble that he would refuse to give me the USB if it came down to that or Sofia.
So, I’d stolen what Torres had wanted, a Darth Vader USB, of all fucking things, but I hadn’t handed it over. Not yet. I needed to know what was on it first. Needed to know what was so damn important that Torres would threaten Sofia to get it. And I had no illusions that this would end there. No, he knew my weakness now. He’d threaten her every time he wanted something, just like Kane held Harris’s sister over him.
Instead of delivering, I’d texted Torres, asking for more time. He’d called, that Southern drawl unchanged.
“I gave you six hours. It’s been over five. You always were an overachiever. The great Captain Shaw must have it by now.”
“Not yet. Like I said, I need more time.”
“But Sofia doesn’t have more time, Derek. I have men there now, on standby, just waiting for my order to swoop in. And if you fail… well, to be honest, I haven’t decided yet whether my order will be to kill her or to take her prisoner so we can all have some fun with her. That depends on how much you piss me off with your bullshit.”
“I ain’t stall—”
“I know you’re at the Bottley, Derek. I know you met Sam.”
I did a scan of the area, cataloging everyone who had eyes on me right then, everyone who wasn’t Pack, but there was no one. How the fuck did Torres know so much? Maybe I could use it against him.
“Then you also know he got called away. I’m meeting him again later. I can get what you want then.”
“No. You now have thirty minutes left. Go find your brother and get me what I need.”
The dial tone was loud in my ear. I analyzed possible scenarios in my head. Telling Sam, telling Ryan. All options took too much time. I could hunt Torres’s men, the ones he had stationed there, but I had no idea how many of them there were, and if I missed just one, then Sofia would pay the price. I couldn’t let that happen. The only way to turn this around was to find out what was on the USB, try to use that against Torres. But I couldn’t do that and keep Sofia safe. Not there. Not when I didn’t know how many men or how many cameras they had.
That left only one option: buy time by taking Sofia and the USB somewhere secure. I had less than thirty minutes to get us both out of Three Rivers. I had safe houses set up; I just had to get us to one. I glanced through the window at Sofia. Her copper hair caught the sunlight streaming through the window, turning it into liquid fire as she moved behind the counter. She was smiling, that bright professional one she used for customers, but I could see the tension in her shoulders, the slight strain around her eyes. I should be taking care of her, not making her a target. But after all I’d done to her, she didn’t trust me at all.
Yeah, I might be an overachiever, but even I couldn’t get Sofia Miller to willingly agree to leave with me without an extremely detailed explanation.
I sent Evelyn a quick text.
Active threat. Lock down 3 Rivers. Anyone not Pack must be evacuated. I’m going AWOL. Protect the Pack.
My car was already parked in the alley. I had vials of ketamine and benzodiazepines in the truck; all enforcers did as part of our kit. It was the only way to put down an out-of-control werewolf without injuring them or us. I really wished there was another way.
Sofia stomped past me back into the cabin. Dark clouds rolled in from the west—a big storm coming, judging from the scent on the air and the dropping temperature.
I turned and followed the trail of faint, wet patches on the wooden floor left by her sneakers. She stood in the main living area in front of the stone fireplace, hands on her hips again. Never a good sign.
“Well?” she asked.
“Well, what?”
“Explain. All of this. Actually, no,” she held up one hand in a stop gesture, “hold that thought. I need coffee. You better fucking have coffee, Derek.”
I nodded to the modern kitchen to her left. Even I wasn’t stupid enough to kidnap Sofia without bringing coffee.
She yanked open the first cupboard, then froze. Her hand hovered over the bags of the Ethiopian coffee beans—the ones she stocked at the Bottley and the ones she always put in her own coffee. She moved to the next cupboard, with the honey-roasted cashews and those weird kale chips she always claimed were “basically like eating air, but addictive air.”
“How did you…?” She opened another door, revealing the granola I’d overheard her raving about to Julie a few months ago and some dark chocolate-covered almonds. “Just how long have you been planning this whole kidnapping adventure of yours?”
“I didn’t plan this, Sofia. It was an on-the-spot decision, but that’s not to say I don’t have a few places like this fully stocked just in case.”
She opened the fridge and paused as she took in the stacked shelves. “Uh-huh. And how long, exactly, do you think we’re going to be here?”
“As long as it takes to figure out the next step.”
“Mmmm.” She didn’t say any more while she made herself some coffee.
I watched, entranced. I loved watching her do this. She somehow made this small act into a ritual, each movement precise and practiced. First, she pulled out the grinder, her fingers trailing over the settings until she found the exact coarseness she wanted. The rich scent of freshly ground Ethiopian beans filled the kitchen as she worked, her expression softening.
She measured the grounds by eye, no scoop needed. The water had to be exactly the right temperature; she told her customers regularly that too hot would burn the beans, too cool wouldn’t extract properly. While she waited for it to heat, she warmed the French press with hot water, swirling it gently before discarding it. The grounds went in first, then she poured the water in a slow, steady spiral, making sure it was all saturated. She tapped her foot, maybe to a tune in her head, maybe counting the seconds while she waited for it to steep.
I knew better than to say anything right now. She needed this. Needed to feel something was the same as always. That not everything had changed. Then, she pressed down with a practiced motion, smooth and steady, separating the grounds from the liquid. The sound of coffee pouring into her mug was almost musical. Two sugars, a splash of cream, and then that first sip—her eyes closed briefly, savoring it like it was the most precious thing in the world.
I could watch her do this all fucking day.
She seemed calmer when her eyes met mine.
“Right. Let’s get this over with. You’re going to tell me what is going on and why I am here, and I promise to drink my coffee and not try to rip your head off. Deal?”
I nodded and gestured to the soft leather chairs in front of the fire. She grabbed a blanket from the back of one of the chairs, wrapping it around herself like armor as she curled into the seat.
I crossed to the fireplace, crouching to add another log. Before she’d woken up, I’d chopped enough wood to see us through at least a couple of weeks. Not that I thought we’d need to be here that long.
I wanted to explain, to make her understand but I wasn’t sure how much I could tell her without putting her in more danger. How much did she need to know?
“You’re in danger.”
“Yeah, you said that already.”
“I mean it, Sofia. There are serious guys from my past. I don’t know what they are into now, but they threatened your life unless I got something for them.”
Her mug paused on the way to her mouth. “It was the thing you stole from Sam?”
“Yes. A USB.”
“What’s on it?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I tried to hack into it while you were… sleeping. I’m going to need more time.”
She put her mug down on the table in front of her and leaned forward. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
A low rumble of thunder rolled in the distance. We both looked at the windows as they trembled slightly in their frames. I stood up, and the power cut off.
Fuck!