Enticing Their Mate
There should have been cameras to detect he wasn’t the owner of the badge. According to the General, Statler’s old lab was top notch, implying he wasn’t oblivious to possible threats. Once he moved, he must have thought that without many people coming and going, no one would notice him. However, he had hired a firm to beef up the security, and Dante and Trax had an appointment tomorrow to load the place up with cameras—cameras they’d be monitoring remotely.
    It was time to convince Statler that he needed a new security man. Connolly knocked on the office door and pushed it open. Waiting for Statler to answer would have given the man the upper hand. As soon as he stepped inside, he almost smiled at the hair that had sprouted on Statler’s face—a sign his shifting had begun.
    “Who the fuck are you?” He had to give Statler credit for keeping his voice within range.
    “Someone who’s going to save your ass.” Connolly widened his stance and crossed his arms, probably looking like a cross between Paul Bunyan and Mr. Clean—though he was nothing like either fictional character.
    Statler pushed back his chair and it toppled behind him. Claws extended, he strode partway around his desk, stopped, and then straightened his blue striped suit jacket. Inhaling deeply, he attempted to stand tall, though in Connolly’s opinion, he failed to pull off the power pose.
    “To answer your question, I used to work for Harvey Couch, but I left the country for a while until things cooled down.” Connolly used his Scottish accent for affect. It was widely known that werewolves from Scotland had the purest blood.
    “You worked for Couch?” Apparently, the name still held awe. Harvey Couch had been the head of the Colter organization until his untimely death.
    “Yes. He and I had the same philosophy toward General Armand.”
    Looking more composed, Statler stepped back behind his desk. “How did you get in?”
    “On my own two feet. Your security is piss poor, by the way. Highly unsophisticated.” Statler winced at the last word. “That’s where I come in. You see, I want you to succeed. Prosper. Grow your business. I want to thwart the General more than life itself.”
    “Why?”
    Connolly had his answer ready. “His men killed my brother.” He growled and narrowed his eyes. That might have been overkill, but men like Statler liked hearing tales of the General’s wicked deeds.
    His chin notched up, though Connolly could detect a hint of fear. “How did you find me?”
    He wasn’t going to play twenty questions with the man. “Do you need help or not?”
    Statler tugged on his lapels and pursed his lips. His gaze darted right then left. “One of my guards took off yesterday and I could use a replacement.”
    “For starters, you need more than a replacement guard.” Connolly could almost detect the steam coming from the man’s nose. As much as Statler probably wanted to tear his head off, he was smart to realize he could use the help more.
    “I’m having security cameras installed here tomorrow, but I’ll need someone to oversee the operation. You interested in the job?”
    Saying yes right away would toss the power back into Statler’s hands. “Might be. Let’s talk compensation.”
    *     *     *
    All last night, Riley and Jay had rehearsed how Riley was supposed to pretend to be a member of Statler’s new security team. It would be difficult to pull off liking the job when all he wanted to do was kill Statler. Riley had no problem acting tough or keeping an eye on things. His main hesitation was that he’d have to be totally professional around Sarah. How he was going to accomplish that feat when all he thought about was delving into her luscious body was anyone’s guess. It was what had kept him awake for hours last night.
    Jay tapped the paper where he’d been taking notes. “I think you’re right. Clay and Dirk are going to have to stay at this motel. I don’t see another

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