Page 17 of House of Wolves
My mind replays all our interactions in the past. Sure, I got on him about putting away the people who have killed Weres. I’ve been pushy and angry, but I still don’t understand why he hates me so much. Obviously, he must hate werewolves if he’s working with the Hunters, but I’ve seen how he interacts with the other Weres in our pack. He’s never as hostile to them. “Well, guess what. You’re not getting rid of me. I don’t understand why you hate me so much, but I will do whatever I can to make you like me.”
“What? Why would you do that? Carmen, you don’t like me either.”
I step toward him, even as he backs away. This is not my usual approach. I never have to corner a man to get him to like me, but it’s all I have left at this point. “Maybe I do like you, Brick. Maybe I want to spend more time with you.” Our chests touch. He looks down at me, his eyes heavy and confused. I don’t turn away from his gaze, getting lost in his smoky eyes. I’ve been this close to him before, but something feels different, familiar, and new at the same time. The moment stills, my heart beats quickly, waiting for what he’ll say next. He moves in, a fraction of an inch closer, but then something washes over his face, and he moves around me. “I don’t know if you have a personal vendetta to screw every single officer in the station, but I don’t want to be a part of whatever game you’re playing.”
His words chill me to my core. I knew he always had an issue with me sleeping around with Straw and Wood. Has he been jealous all this time? Or does he just think I’m a slut and doesn’t want to get tangled in my web? Suddenly, all of this seems so stupid. I don’t need to seduce Brick. This was a horrible idea, and for what? To be verbally assaulted? I don’t need him to save those girls. I’m done.
I walk toward the door, ready to slam it behind me, but the lights shut off, and a downpour of rain sounds around me.
8
Fake Pigs
“Shit,”Isay,staringat the gray wall of water separated by the glass door of the police station. Brick sighs beside me, clicking off his phone and putting it in his pocket. “It looks like it’ll be like this for the next few hours.”
I don’t say anything, just stare out at the expanse of grey, debating if I should take my chances, shift, and run home.
As if reading my mind, Brick says, “We should stay here until it passes. It’ll be dangerous. I’ll go find some candles.” I don’t know why he’s pretending to give a crap about my safety. He obviously hates me and wants me and my kind dead. Minutes ago, this would have been the perfect situation for seduction, but now that plan is the furthest thing from my mind. What he said kind of hurt. I’ve always been proud of my sexuality, but the past few days have felt like the world is waging war on my womanhood, and Brick’s words are like the nail in the coffin. I’m more than a piece of ass, I know that, but I’m getting a little tired of everyone viewing me that way.
I sigh, rolling back my shoulders and sitting on the visitors’ couch in the corner. I pull out my phone. Great, it’s dead. I can’t even distract myself with mindless scrolling. Brick emerges from the hallway moments later, carrying two candles, clearly on their last legs, and a bag of chips. “Found these in the kitchen.” He throws the bag to me before lighting the candles and placing them on the coffee table. He sits in one of the leather chairs across from me.
I open the bag of chips and begin eating, not offering a thank you or meeting his eyes. I can feel the nervous energy radiating off him. He squirms in his seat, shifting his legs from one over the other. He’s probably not used to the absence of my rage. Good, I hope he feels like a dick.
“Carmen,” he finally says, his voice heavy and low. He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, his arms outstretched. I divert my attention before I succumb to the guise of innocence he’s attempting to display.
“Carmen, I’m sorry.”
I don’t respond. I don’t forgive him.
“You came here to make amends, and I’ve been a dick.”
“Correct.”
“It’s just with everything going on—the murders, it’s a lot. And every time I see you, my failures stare me dead in the face.”
I disarm myself, dropping the bag and looking at him completely. He’s not confessing to me, at least, not directly. His statement could mean a million different things, but this is the perfect segue to discover more. “All I want is to help those girls, to help my clan. That’s why I’m a reporter. That’s why I bug the crap out of you every chance I get.”
He smiles—a goddamn smile. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed one from him, and it makes me want to take a picture and keep it forever. It fades as fast as it comes, a sadness overtaking his features. A moment of silence passes us again. The only sound is the pounding against the roof. He breaks it. “I don’t hate you, you know.”
I cross my legs, leaning in close. “You literally told me you'd rather the council send anyone else besides me.”
His eyes search me, stopping at my lips. “I have other reasons for saying that besides hating you.” My mind replays his digs and comments over the years, paired with his recent outburst about sleeping with the police officers he supervises. Could he like me? Could all this be some weird way to mask his true feelings for me? Damn, I know I’m hot, but he sure sucks at letting me know how he feels about me. No, that can’t be it. How could I miss it? Wouldn’t it benefit him to get me on his good side? He’s doing a piss poor job at it, but he’s been so willing to apologize tonight. He’s hated me all these years. Nothing has changed. What if he’s playing the same game I’m playing—using me to get the council off his back, to find more locations of vulnerable women? Maybe it’s as hard for him as it is for me.
The room darkens. The candles before me, doing an abysmal job previously at providing illumination, are now completely dim. “Shit,” he mutters, inspecting the empty black glass. “I think I have more candles in my office somewhere.” He connects his eyes with mine, tilting his head toward the hallway to signal me to follow.
A part of me, a large part, wants to refuse and stay right where I am. I’m not afraid of the dark, and being without Brick’s presence sounds like a small dose of paradise within the uncomfortable situation I’ve volunteered myself. But then it’s just that. I volunteered to find out more by using Brick. Sitting alone with him in his dark and information-riddled office sounds like the perfect situation for the cause. I get up and follow after him.
When I enter, he’s already rummaging through his desk, muttering profanities with each abandoned drawer. “I think there might be some in the supply closet,” he says, charging for his door. I have half a mind to tell him to calm the fuck down about the candles. I can easily shift to my night vision, but this is actually perfect. Now, I’m alone in his office.
I don’t waste time walking to his desk and rummaging through the files on top. I would have thought my search would have taken longer, but lo and behold, the second file I pick up is the one. It’s unnamed, but inside are pictures and police reports of all three missing girls.
“What are you doing?” Brick asks, a ridiculous amount of candles cradled in his large arms.
I drop the file, clearly guilty. “I was trying to see if you missed the candles in your desk.”
He sighs, dropping the candles on a coffee table in front of a small sitting area in the corner of his office. “Inside a manila folder?” he asks in a dry tone.
“I got distracted?” My voice raises an octave.
