Page 20 of Tossed into the Mob (The Wolves of La Luna Noir #4)

TWENTY

brOCK

"This is bonkers,” Ranger muttered, crossing his arms as he glanced at me across Flint's office. “No offense, Brock, but this isn’t like the first time where you swan into a restaurant and keep an eye on the bad guys.”

His words stung, though Treyton had said much the same thing when Flint had brought it up.

I was family, yes, mated to their cousin.

We’d joked and bantered, but I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t human.

There was no personal bodyguard wolf inside me.

We couldn’t get furry together and bond while we devoured a deer. That would always set me apart.

And though none of the family held my biological link to Emilio against me, there were rumblings from the lower ranks of the pack that I wasn't to be trusted.

But I had put it to Treyton that perhaps Flint chose me for this mission so I could prove myself to the pack? Perhaps that was a reach on my part, but I was the perfect candidate because of my pregnancy that was just beginning to show.

“Enough, Ranger.” Flint used his Alpha voice, and my mate placed a hand on my thigh. “Not only is Brock pregnant, but he’s human. Dr. Gasper isn’t going to suspect he’s spying on his operation.”

I brushed a hand over my belly, telling our little one I was doing this for babies who weren’t as lucky as them, babies who were being trafficked. I blinked away tears as I imagined someone taking my child and Treyton and I living with the grief.

Dr. Gasper was an OB/GYN. Though he was a shifter, his clientele were mostly human.

He was running a profitable trafficking operation.

He would whisk the newborn away after delivery, saying the baby was experiencing breathing difficulty.

Later he’d inform the family their child had died and would concoct a story as to why they couldn’t see the baby’s body.

Or if the omega was single or widowed, he might traffic the pregnant omega. After the birth, the omega would be enslaved and the baby sold to a wealthy family.

Though this mainly affected humans, Flint and the others said the pack couldn’t ignore what was happening.

My concern was not so much for me, but Treyton. Being a midwife and a Durand, Gasper may have come across him.

“You can’t accompany me, Treyton. Your name marks you as part of La Luna Noir.”

“That’s an easy fix.” He held up his ID that showed his image with the name Wyatt Flanagan. He assured me he’d never come across Dr. Gasper who’d only moved his operation to the city a few months ago. “And I have a backstory with people at the other end of the phone to back me up.”

He showed me a website of a shoe company with him as marketing director. Wow. The pack really attended to all the details, for which I was glad because we didn’t want to be compromised.

“I had considered finding someone else to pretend to be your mate, but no one could mimic the chemistry and intimacy you two have.”

As Flint spoke, my mate brushed against me, and my body tingled. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, and we stared at one another for what seemed like an age.

Flint leaned forward and clapped. “Enough. Keep the goo-goo eyes for when you’re in Gasper’s presence.”

“What in the heck are goo-goo eyes?” Ranger wanted to know.

Flint shot back at his brother, “What you and Matt do.”

“Oh.”

I couldn’t fathom how Gasper wouldn’t be suspicious about Treyton, or Wyatt as he was pretending to be.

“He’ll be suspicious of Treyton at first, but you have to take the lead, Brock.

Say your mate wanted you to give birth at home but you said no way.

” He added that Treyton had heaped scorn on consulting a doctor, but I had convinced him there were complications.

“And now he’s worried about you and the baby. ”

We hashed out the details, and Flint handed me a USB. “Don’t be fooled. This is not like a thumb drive that you used to copy assignments.”

I peered at it at one end and then the other. “Does it have a gun or a knife? A poison pill? No wait, it’s a transmitter.”

Placing it close to my mouth, I said, “Testing, testing. This is Agent Tiny Bump. Come in.”

Treyton played along. “This is Agent Overprotective. I hear you loud and clear.”

“I’m supposed to be pregnant for this mission. Oh wait, I am.” I giggled, and my mate joined in.

Flint did not laugh, he rolled his eyes and snatched back the USB. “I’m wondering whether I’ve made a mistake trusting you two with this.” He waved the USB under our noses. “It just has a huge memory. There’s no gun or knife secreted inside.”

“Sorry,” we chorused. We held hands and reined in our banter.

Both Treyton and I had a part to play in this scenario.

"The appointment is scheduled for this afternoon. Dr. Gasper thinks you're there for a routine consultation about potential complications with a shifter pregnancy."

"What's our contingency plan if something goes wrong?" Treyton asked.

"Hunter will be in the parking lot with his men. Ranger will have his guys stationed at the clinic's exits. If things go sideways, you get out immediately and let us handle the rest."

Treyton drove us to the clinic in silence, with one hand on the wheel and the other on my knee.

My belly flip-flopped as we got out and strode toward the modern building.

A wave of nausea clawed at my belly that had nothing to do with the baby, but rather that this doctor was not only trafficking babies and omegas, but making a huge profit.

"Are you sure about this?" Treyton asked before we buzzed the intercom.

“No," I admitted. "But I'm doing it anyway."

He kissed me. "I love you and I'm proud of you, and if everything goes sideways, I’ll shift.”

The waiting room reminded me of an upmarket spa on TV with the walls painted subtle colors, soft music, plants, and smiling assistants. There was a small fountain in the corner, and I had an urge to pee. The cloying scent of jasmine hung in the air, and I coughed because it was overpowering.

“He should be arrested for that aroma alone,” I whispered.

The receptionist welcomed us, and I filled in a form on the tablet they gave me. We didn’t have to wait long, so my knee didn’t have time to bounce up and down, though Treyton would have calmed me with his touch.

Dr. Gasper appeared to be in his mid-forties. He paid little attention to me initially but eyed Treyton, probably sussing out he was a wolf, like him.

"I understand you're concerned about some potential complications with your pregnancy?"

I opened my mouth to begin the lies I’d prepped, but it was Treyton who launched into his prepared story. First he rambled about being suspicious of doctors.

“No offense, Doc.”

Gasper’s smile tightened. I suspected he prided himself on people being deferential and didn’t enjoy my mate’s informal tone.

Treyton took my hand and held it to his cheek. “But what do I know? I sell shoes.”

“Quite.”

My mate was very convincing, telling the doctor how concerned he was for the baby and me.

Gasper steepled his hands, and the ring he wore on his right hand glinted in the light streaming in from outside.

“There can be complications in a human-shifter pregnancy. Have you experienced any unusual symptoms such as heightened senses?”

My senses of smell and sight couldn’t be compared to a shifter’s, but they were always more enhanced than some humans, probably thanks to my shifter father. They had intensified a little since I’d been pregnant which I chalked up to hormones or just being around shifters.

“Some,” I admitted. “My sense of smell is stronger than it used to be.”

He looked up at me with what might have been sympathy on anyone else's face, but it creeped me out. “These pregnancies can be very dangerous. There's a higher risk of complications during delivery, and infant mortality rates are significantly elevated.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “What kind of complications?” Was this true? We were undercover, and now I was freaking out at what he was telling me.

“The baby's shifter instincts can kick in during delivery, causing trauma to both parent and child. In some cases—” He paused. “In some cases, we lose both patients.”

Treyton's hand found mine, squeezing tight. Okay, the guy was BS-ing, I was certain, because Treyton and I had discussed this with the cousins and their mates. And I was the product of a human and shifter mating. Now I understood how easily prospective parents were duped.

“But I've successfully delivered dozens of mixed babies over the years.”

Something about the way he said “successfully delivered” made my skin crawl.

“I'd like to examine you,” the doctor continued, “and run some additional tests. But I'll need your partner to wait outside during the examination.”

Treyton took hold of me. “It’s going to be okay.” He fanned himself and sweat stained his collar. How did his wolf do that? His voice rose. "What if something's wrong? What if the baby dies? What if Brock dies?”

He grabbed the doctor by his white coat and shook him. “This is my fault. If he hadn’t been my fated mate, none of this would have happened. Our baby’s going to die and so is my mate, and I’ll be all alone.”

“Pull yourself together.” Gasper’s nostrils flared. “You’re a shifter. Where is your pride? You’ll always have your wolf, even if your human…” He spat out the last word. “Your human and child die.”

Hearing him describe my death and the baby’s in such clinical terms had my blood almost turn to ice.

Treyton yanked at Gasper’s tie, and the guy dragged him out of the office, shouting for the staff to intervene. I took advantage of being alone in the room and plugged the USB drive into the open laptop on Gasper’s desk.

Come on, come on, I thought as I watched the progress bar creep forward.

Treyton must have bumped something, one of the plants, or that tinkly fountain because there was a huge crash.

“I can’t bear it if they die,” he wailed.

Seventy-five percent. Eighty.

“Perhaps we should reschedule this appointment,” Gasper suggested.

“No!” Treyton said quickly. “Please, I'll be fine. I just need a minute. Maybe some water?”

Ninety percent. Ninety-five.

One hundred percent. I quickly ejected the drive and slipped it back into my pocket just before Gasper returned.

“I apologize. He's been so worried about the pregnancy.”

Gasper sneered, and I imagined I saw his wolf in his gaze. “Perhaps we should indeed reschedule.”

“That might be best,” I agreed.

“First-time father nerves.” Treyton got to his feet, and I steered him toward the door.

It wasn't until we were in the car and driving away that I breathed normally.

“Did you get it?” Treyton asked.

I patted my pocket. “Every file on his computer.”

“Thank gods. I was running out of ways to panic.”

“You were very convincing.”

Treyton glanced at me. “The thought of something happening to you and the baby keeps me awake at night.”

Awww. The trained midwife was worried about his mate and baby.

“We’ll be fine. Ask me how I know?” I didn’t wait for a response. “Because I’ll have you with me, holding my hand.”

The next day Flint called us into the office. I ignored the pointed glances, but the atmosphere was less antagonistic than it had been when I was here previously.

“The files Brock obtained contained everything we needed,” Flint announced. “And his operation has been shut down. We’re in the process of going through the records and finding the missing babies and omegas.”

There was loud applause, not that I wanted or needed that. But maybe what I’d… what we’d accomplished helped ease people’s doubts about me.

“However, we didn’t apprehend him. He escaped onto the roof and got away in a helicopter.”