Page 8 of The Wolf's Captive
Shit, I hadn’t even checked if he was with Malone. The reply was in a light tone, too feminine to be my mate. Phew.
“If I have to use my magic, I will,” I said, trying to reassure my brother. “Don’t panic.”
My old instinct to protect Drake from what was really happening surged. Why had I been careless enough to ring the one person who struggled with paranoia? I should’ve spoken to Zoe. Being away from my brother was making me forget myself.
As he replied, I swallowed hard, not hearing what he said as a man came and sat next to me. The smell of him was strong, the wet dog scent mixed with a harsh French cologne.
“I’ve got to go,” I said to Drake. “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
Pressing the button despite his protest, I hung up the call and glanced sideways at the wolf from the night before. He was looking ahead, his shoulders hunched and eyes unblinking.
“What do you want? If you’re here to kill me, I’ll warn you that I know Karate.”
“You do?”
Frowning, I shook my head, unable to think of a good comeback. The man had completely thrown me off. If he was here to kill me, he wouldn’t be asking me about my fighting skills, he would’ve done it by now.
“I’m not here to attack you, paranoid woman.” The corner of the wolf’s lip sunk into his cheek.
He had no idea how ironic his jibe was, but I wasn’t about to tell him my life story.
My nerves eased slightly as he watched me, his bright blue eyes barely registering me before he glanced forward again. “I’m here for a friend. Victor Roberts.”
“Sorry, you’ve got the wrong person. I don’t know him.”
Going to get up, I paused when he coughed loudly, his hand extending without touching me. “Oh, you met him last night. The warlock.”
The heat of the sun suddenly made my skin feel extra warm. I had given far too much time to the werewolf. I should’ve legged it out of the park as soon as I’d seen him. I didn’t care that the warlock wanted something from me.
Without waiting for him to go on, I leapt up and started to jog away. He was beside me in seconds, his footsteps longer than mine as we ran.
“Leave me alone!” I bit through my teeth, preparing to use my magic to stop him from following me.
“Della, he wants to help you,” he said under his breath. “Please don’t run.”
Tripping, I almost choked as his arm came out and caught me. He set me back on my feet and let go before I could even get a clear thought in my mind. My heartbeat was resounding in my head, making it hard for me to think straight. How did he know my name?
“Victor knows who I am?” I asked warily.
Checking around, the werewolf nodded. “Yes. I don’t know how, I’m just a messenger. A French one at that.”
“What does he want?”
“He wants to talk to you about your predicament.” His shrug was dismissive, as if he didn’t really care.
My spidy senses were on high alert. If the warlock could find me in the centre of Paris, he probably wouldn’t leave me alone until I’d spoken to him. How could I trust that the man wouldn’t just kill me?
“Where is he, then?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips. “As if I’m going to meet him somewhere private where he can end me.”
“Victor wants you to meet him by the river. He told me to tell you that he knows someone in the werewolf council. He owes them a favour, and he wants to help you at the same time.”
Swallowing, I folded my arms across my chest. If the warlock knew a werewolf from the council, he would know what had happened with the witches and Kieran. Shit, he would know everything.
I had to weigh up my options. Go to him to see what he wanted to say, or risk him going back to Malone and telling him where I was staying.
“Fine,” I muttered, “I’ll meet him now.”
Taking my phone out, I tapped a message to my boss, telling her that I’d be an hour late. Luckily, she was super chilled and wouldn’t care. It was a mystery to me how the business had stayed afloat before I’d come along.