Steal the Day (Thieves #2)(116)

“Of course not.” He had no idea who Chelsea was. Probably her dog. “I would like a name, Charlotte.”

Her jaw tightened, and she looked down at her hands. “Chelsea is my sister’s name. I know I didn’t tell you about her, but she’s younger than me. She’s more…fragile. You remember how I told you about my father?”

Her Russian mobster dad. Yes, Vladimir Denisovitch. He had a rap sheet about twelve miles long in twenty-two different countries. If he’d followed the Russian mob practice of tattooing his crimes on his body, Ian was sure there hadn’t been an inch of skin left on Vlad’s flesh. But his crimes against Charlotte were even worse. However, Ian no longer cared. “I asked for a name. I don’t need to know about your sister.”

“You’re going to be difficult.”

He shook his head. “Not at all. If you don’t want to talk, you should feel free to leave. There’s nothing at all difficult about it.”

She took a long breath before speaking. “I’ll tell you, but I want you to stay calm.”

Everything fell neatly into place. There was only one name he could think of that would truly enrage him. Or would if he really gave a shit about her. “Then it’s Eli Nelson.





An Unlucky Moon

From USA TODAY Bestselling Author Carrie Ann Ryan

A Dante’s Circle Novel



Hunter stood in front of Dante’s Circle, the sunset beating down on him. He narrowed his eyes, the brown contacts he wore irritating them. He hated wearing the damn things, but yellow eyes seemed to scare the humans. He hadn’t worn them the last time he’d been here, but he’d forgotten.

After spending four years battling demons and doing things that would haunt his nightmares for years to come, putting a thin film over his eyes to keep from scaring the little humans hadn’t occurred to him.

People milled around in the early evening sun, talking and going about their day. Most of them were humans so they didn’t realize they were venturing around a walking shadow of death. A pixie passed him and froze, her eyes widening. She blinked then scurried off, as if too afraid of what he could do rather than remembering that, to most predators, prey running away only egged them on.

Hunter wasn’t one of those predators though. Despite his name, he didn’t feel the need to hunt after prey when the one he truly wanted was within the walls in front of him. It had been a month since he’d seen Becca. A month since she’d lain in his arms, her body pale, healing.

He could still remember the howls echoing off the walls. It hadn’t been until later that he’d realized those howls of anguish had been his own. Though he hadn’t known much about Becca—still didn’t—the wolf within him knew everything he needed to know.

Becca Quinn would be his mate—was his mate.

Now he just had to convince her of that.

Leaving for a month to let each other heal and work his way through the labyrinth of lies and betrayals within the Pack might not have been the best idea in retrospect. From what he knew of females, he was pretty sure leaving without any form of communication wasn’t the smartest thing.

He’d have to court Becca—something he had no idea how it worked or what it entailed. Maybe Ambrose and Balin would help him. Even in hell, the angel and demon had known how to make Jamie smile. Hunter was pretty sure Ambrose had messed something up before they’d gone to hell in the first place. Hunter took that to mean that if the eons-old warrior angel could make mistakes and come out of it okay, surely he could.

Hopefully.

Hunter was the Beta of the Nocturne Pack, yet right at this moment, he didn’t know if he had the strength to face her. He’d never had a mate before, let alone a human one—or whatever Becca was. He wasn’t exactly sure, and the triad hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with details.

Most wolves within his Pack mated other wolves. That was just the way of things. Wolves had one true mate—sometimes two if they were in a triad. That was it. Sure they could mate others and have children, but it wouldn’t be a true mating. All other supernaturals had the same idea of true bliss.

Finding one’s true half was a blessing.

A rare one.

The moment he’d stepped into that alley and had seen the red-haired goddess, he’d known she was the one for him. It had hit him like a freight train. Where most men would have thought it was crazy, Hunter had welcomed it.

He’d known she was his.

Now he just had to figure out what to do about it.

His Pack wanted him to mate—at least the ones who wanted him alive anyway. He had a true mate, but she wasn’t part of the Pack. Hunter knew this would be an issue, but he really didn’t care. All he wanted was the sweet-scented woman who drugged him like an elixir with her presence.

A human bumped into him and gave him a dirty look, presumably for standing in the middle of the sidewalk. He didn’t blame the human for being annoyed, so he blinked at him rather than growling. The human’s eyes widened, and fear seeped from him before he took off at a brisk pace in the other direction.

“Scaring people again?” Balin asked as he walked toward him from the parking lot.

Hunter shrugged but nodded toward the demon who had become his friend. “I didn’t growl or bite him. I thought I was doing well.”

Balin shook his head and chuckled. “You were. I don’t really get it up here either.” Up here being the human realm rather than the hell realm that Balin had lived in for three hundred years.