Hunted (Pack of Dawn and Destiny, #1)(44)

“It shouldn’t be a big issue, regardless,” Rafe offered. “Arbiter Tanaka is fair, and I was told you will have legal representation; is that right, Hunter Sabre?”

“Yes. And I should get going. Into there. Pre-Dominant Harka, Rafe.” I scuttled sideways, attempting to walk into the building—you never ran from a wolf; that invited them to pounce.





Chapter 12





Pip





Greyson didn’t even say anything to them. He just sauntered after me without saying farewell.

“What, you don’t pretend to be a nice guy for them?” I muttered once we passed through the doors.

“Not anymore.” Greyson eyed a shifter standing guard. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yep. I pulled up the Curia Cloisters map this morning when you were driving like a screaming banshee.” I smiled at the secretary sitting behind the front desk—she had gorgeous black hair without even a strand of frizz, and a smile that brought extra light to her dark eyes—as we walked past, turning off to a different section of the Cloisters.

We climbed a set of granite stairs, my heels tapping with precise clicks. I didn’t wobble too badly, even though I almost never wore heels. As Wyatt and Aeric loved to remind me, I’d rarely had an occasion to, given my failed romantic life.

I veered away from the stairwell and click-clacked my way down the hallway.

I looked pretty sharp, if I say so myself, in my dark gray skirt and suitcoat with my black heels and my white hair pulled back in a bun so neat it could maybe pass as blond if no one looked long enough.

I’d made an effort today to dress sufficiently business-y so Fletching wouldn’t be able to try to make me out as some kind of low-life—if Amos dared to show his face here.

He still had the dark bruises under his eyes and the tape on his nose since the Pack refused to give him a fae healing potion and his hunters hadn’t been able to ship him one yet, and he’d look pretty ridiculous standing next to me, particularly since I’d be shorter than him even in my heels, and I’d worn a suitcoat to highlight the leanness of my build and hide the light definition of my arm muscles.

Use every resource available to you in a fight, including a wardrobe. Another tip brought to you by experiencing years of Pack training.

“Pip!”

I looked up and smiled when I saw Gigi Quillon.

Although she was petite and looked almost pixie-like with her short blond-brown hair, button nose, and pink dress, when Gigi smiled, she looked shark-like.

She was a full-fledged member of the Quillon family, but she didn’t do much field work, as she was a lawyer and did a lot of accounting for supernaturals in Minnesota—the state the Quillons were based out of.

“Hello, Gigi. How are the kids?” I asked.

“Oh, nearly grown up!” Gigi swept me up in a motherly hug and patted my back. “My youngest is learning to drive—and she’s going to drive me straight into an early grave. I’m saying it now in case I turn up dead later this summer!” Gigi pulled back and looked me over. “You are looking prettier every time I see you! How are you—happy in Timber Ridge?”

I laughed awkwardly—keenly aware of Greyson’s golden eyes drilling into the spot between my shoulder blades. “It’s as adorable as ever! Though I do miss Mama Dulce and Papa Santos.”

Gigi made a tsking noise. “Naturally,” she said. “Are you ready for our appointment?”

“As ready as I can be,” I said. “I’m prepared that I’m probably going to get fined—but do you think they’ll stick me with some kind of ‘community building service’ that I’ll have to do? Because that’s going to be a pain in the butt to pull off in Timber Ridge. We’re too far north to see many other supernaturals.”

Gigi made a noise in the back of her throat. “We’ll see.”

Her response made me gulp.

Does that mean this is a bigger issue than I thought?

Gigi peered around me. “And who is this handsome wolf you brought with you?”

I could feel Greyson turn on his Alpha persona as he drew closer.

“I’m Greyson, the Alpha of the Northern Lakes Pack.” He made his voice extra deep and velvety, somehow perfectly managing to cloak his snarky personality.

“Ahh, yes, I should have recognized you, my apologies,” Gigi said. “I’ve seen your picture a thousand times on werewolf reports. Somehow, though, you seem…different.” She tilted her head as she stared up at him, narrowing her eyes.

Over her shoulder, I smirked at Greyson.

See! We hunters don’t fall for your little act!

Greyson didn’t acknowledge my smugness as he reached out and shook Gigi’s hand. “I see,” he said. “And you are Gigi Quillon, of the Quillon hunters?”

“Oh, yes, where are my manners? I’m Gigi, and I will be officially representing Pip before the arbiter.”

“I hope things can come to an amicable understanding,” Greyson said in a very politically polite way.

There’s no way he actually believes what he’s saying. I’m pretty sure he’d love to toss Amos across the lodge meadow.

“We’ll see,” Gigi said. “The law is the law.”