Page 32 of Roguefinder

“Wow,” he said. “The Council must be doing well for itself.”

I dropped my bags at the foot of the stairs and motioned for him to do the same. “They’ve been accumulating assets since before most countries existed. Stay here. I’m going to check upstairs.”

He frowned. “I should come with you.”

“I’ll be faster alone.” Although, maybe he worried I doubted his abilities. I crossed to him and gave him a quick, hard kiss. “I’ve been a werewolf a long time, baby. My senses are sharp. The house feels fine. I just want peace of mind.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Okay. I won’t wander off.”

I winked. “Try it, and I’ll cross oceans of time to find you.”

“Promises, promises.”

Smiling, I jogged up the stairs. The second floor held three bedrooms, each with tall windows shuttered against the afternoon light. A master suite boasted a bathroom tiled in white marble with delicate gray veins. The furniture was museum quality, with carved wood headboards and sturdy chairs upholstered in creams and midnight blues.

I checked the closets, but my nose told me what I needed to know: The house was empty.

A sweep of the third floor revealed two additional bedrooms and a study with a desk positioned to catch the light from a balcony overlooking the courtyard. Shelves held rows of old books and tasteful ceramics.

I headed down the staircase with the memory of the catacombs in my mind. Ulfrik’s scent had been sharp and rotten—and then simply gone, as if a door had slammed shut. In a hundred and thirty years of tracking, I’d never experienced anything like it. A thorough sweep of the tunnels hadn’t surrendered an explanation. I’d worked every corridor and combed every empty niche, turning up nothing but the dry, mineral ghosts of human bones and the fresher signatures of the living. Layers of body lotion and wet wool and the chemical bite of hand sanitizer. A maintenance worker’s cigarettes and a man’s expensive cologne. Humans lingered everywhere, but the rogue had vanished.

I’d been honest when I told Caleb that rogues were unpredictable. Everything about them was erratic, including their scent. But it didn’t just evaporate.

So where had Ulfrik gone? He’d been in those catacombs. Where was he now?

My wolf shoved at my ribs, uneasy at the thought of Ulfrik on the loose. He’d turned Caleb. My Caleb. My beast wouldn’t be satisfied until Ulfrik was dead—for good this time.

Caleb was where I’d left him, his shoulders against the wall beside the front door. He pushed off it when he saw me, and my worry must have shown on my face because he darted a look at the stairs behind me.

“Everything okay up there?”

“Yes,” I said. “The house is secure.”

He studied me for another second, then crossed the foyer and took my hips in both hands. “You’re still upset about losing Ulfrik’s scent.”

Frustration nipped at me, and it leaked into my voice as I said, “I’m upset about losing him. We could have found him and put this whole debacle behind us.”

He held my gaze, his eyes the same shade as a cloudless sky on a hot July day. Unhurried, he leaned in and kissed me, parting my lips with his tongue. Warm and slick. His kiss was just like him—persistent and impossible to ignore. Impossible to resist.

I didn’t even want to try. So I let him in, tasting apples and a trace of the chocolate he’d stolen from me on the plane. Tasting him, all sunshine and brash confidence that hid a soft, precious center. My hands slid up his chest on their own, and then they were in his hair and I was taking control, stroking my tongue deep as I walked him to the wall.

He grunted into my mouth, which was how I knew his back had hit the plaster. But he was just as needy as I was, his hips lifting and his hands finding their way under my shirt. The scent of rain clung to him as he caught me by the waistband and yanked me closer. Our erections met, and all the blood in my body pumped south.

He moaned against my lips before pressing his forehead to mine. “I want you to fuck my brains out, but I’m also really goddamn hungry.”

I pulled back and looked at him. His lips were wet and swollen, his blond waves mussed from my hands. And the tender satisfaction in his eyes was as much of a turn-on as his kiss. He’d reassured me with his body, showing me without words that he trusted me. Believed in me.

How had I ever lived without him?

“There’s an excellent outdoor market a ten-minute walk from here,” I said. “We’ll get groceries⁠— ”

“Stop. I’m already hard.”

“—then I’ll see what I can do about your brains.”

His eyes went unfocused. “I’m not sure which part of your plan is sexier.”

Laughing, I pulled him away from the wall. “Come on, horndog. You’re going to lose it when you see this focaccia.”