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“Carol?” Ryan asked again, his hand firmly on her arm as he guided her toward the tavern.


“Nothing.”


But the look he gave her told her he knew differently. He gave his head a slight shake. But what did she care? He wouldn’t believe she’d had another one of her visions. Anyway. And the meaning of the vision eluded her as before, so what was she supposed to say? Even if he had been more enlightened?


She walked at Ryan’s quickened pace, observing the carved wooden wolves guarding the double doors of the bar. If she’d only known in the beginning what they had signified. Werewolf territory.


Before she’d become a werewolf, Carol had only been in Silver Town’s tavern once during the fall festival when the doors were open to non-members as well as members. She hadn’t realized that to obtain memberships, citizens had to be card-carrying werewolves.


Ryan hurried to get the tavern door for Carol, the rusty hinges squealing as he pushed the heavy oak aside. Rustic fans circulating the air were probably new but looked antique enough to have been hanging from the time the place opened in the nineteenth century.


The smoky mirror behind the long, polished bar definitely had been there from the early days, and the counter was worn in spots where folks leaned against it, drinking their choice of poison. She imagined the shadows of people from long ago reflected in the dingy glass. Silva swore she was going to make Sam replace it with new mirrors, but Sam was a rustic himself and wouldn’t go along with it. Maybe because he was cheap, too.


Amber glass lights hung on brass rods from the high ceiling, casting a soft light over the dark wood tables, some round for smaller groups, some long and rectangular for larger crowds. The place was fairly empty, with just a few older couples enjoying drinks and conversation. The talking died when Ryan and Carol walked inside.


Many of Darien’s pack were still at the gathering. Sam and Silva had returned at some point and were preparing roast beef sandwiches and drinks, the aroma of the roasting beef filling the air. Silva hurried to greet them and directed them to a table in the center of the room surrounded by other tables.


A fishbowl.


“We’d prefer one over here, thanks.” Ryan guided Carol to a table in a corner of the room where it was out of the traffic, half hidden in shadows, quiet, and easier to talk privately. And unavailable.


“This is Darien’s table,” Carol whispered, her heartbeat accelerating, but she had a sneaking suspicion Ryan already knew that.


Silva tapped a pen on an order pad. “Boss man sits here with Lelandi and his brothers. I’ll show you to another table.”


“He’s not coming here tonight,” Ryan told her and pulled out a chair for Carol so self-assuredly that his move fed her own confidence.


His amber eyes steeled, Sam wiped the bar. “Darien might not be here tonight, but his brothers will be, guaranteed. And they also sit there.”


“Not tonight.” Ryan gave him a look that meant he would not be dissuaded. “Darien suggested we come here on our date. So I’m sure he won’t mind if we take the most out-of-the-way, private spot.”


Silva looked at Carol as if hoping she would make Ryan come to his senses. Carol only smiled, figuring what the heck, and took her seat. She’d already done enough to create a scene or two, why not another?


“Yep. I figure capturing Darien’s ribbon today entitles me to a reward.”


Ryan gave her a small nod of approval and pulled his own chair out and sat down.


Sam poured a beer for a man at the bar and inclined his head briefly to Silva, giving his okay. She let out her breath.


“All right. It’s on Sam’s head if Darien shows up expecting his table and finds it occupied. What would you care to drink?”


“A strawberry daiquiri,” Carol said.


Silva’s brows shot up into her bangs. “You always get a Chablis. Are you sure?”


“Yep, tonight’s a cause for celebration.”


Ryan leaned back in his chair. “A beer for me, Silva. And a couple of hot roast beef sandwiches for the two of us, too.”


Silva nodded. “You know, the word is getting around that you’re here to question Carol about the murder case and then you’re leaving for good. Best be quick about it, if that’s all the business you have, because the bachelors are antsy about you being here. Rumors are circulating that it’s more than that.”


“They have a lot more to worry about than me being here.”


Her face brightening, Silva said, “Oh?” Which meant she was delighted to share whatever the new gossip was around the tavern and the town.


“Some red male is running around here without Darien’s permission, possibly targeting Carol or Lelandi, or both. That’s who everyone should be more concerned about.”


Silva gave Carol a worried look.


Trying to appear unconcerned, Carol shrugged. “The bachelors are all going to be my bodyguards, and Lelandi will also be well protected. Nothing to worry about.”


“Ryan will be your bodyguard, too?” Silva asked, hopeful.


Carol attempted a nonchalant tone for her response, but it came out more annoyed than she had planned. “Ryan’s going home as soon as he grills me.”


Silva gave him a hard look. “You could at least guard her. Be nice while you question her. If you’re not… well, Sam will take care of you. Believe me, you don’t want that.” She whipped around and headed to the bar to get their drinks.


Carol loved having Silva as a friend. “Ask your questions so you can return home.”


He glanced at Silva as she spoke with Sam, ordering their drinks. “Don’t you want to wait for your drink first, Carol?”


“Why? Think it’ll make me tell the truth?”


Ryan cast an elusive smile at her.


“It won’t.”


His smile broadened.


“I mean that it won’t get me drunk so that I’ll tell the truth.” She paused. “I mean…” she said, totally exasperated with herself, “I’m not telling you anything but the truth, no matter what. How do you suspect I learned about Larissa’s murder?”


“You overheard something. I’m not saying you consciously have tried to hide anything. Just that—”


“Well, hell, that’s nice to know.” She didn’t try to hide her annoyance. He might as well know that she didn’t appreciate his questioning her as if she had something to hide. “The truth is that you don’t believe in parapsychology. Right?” She lifted her chin a hair.


Ryan had to keep a stern face on that one. He didn’t think he’d get anywhere with Carol if he smirked as though he thought she didn’t have any abilities. He just didn’t believe in anything that couldn’t be proven 100 percent. What she claimed to be able to do wouldn’t hold up under any kind of scrutiny and couldn’t be used in a court of law.


“Just the facts, ma’am. Solid, hard, physical facts,” he said.


“All right.” She sat up straighter, and he loved her backbone. “Did you know that I was a prisoner of Darien’s household before the battle between the reds and grays occurred?”


Not having known, Ryan frowned and pondered that. “Before you were turned?” He drummed his fingers on the table, then quit. “Of course. They feared for your safety because you’d discovered something about the murderer. They were afraid whoever it was would be sure to silence you also.”


Looking like she was fighting to keep from showing her irritation, Carol clenched her teeth. Then she leaned forward and speared him with a hard look. But no matter how irritated she looked, he couldn’t help thinking how attractive she was, her blue eyes heated and narrowed, her face lightly flushed.


“You’re right, of course. The reason also was that if Lelandi was injured, I’d be her personal nurse. But the biggest reason?” she asked.


“Enlighten me.”


Silva joined them with a tray of beers and one strawberry daiquiri. She leaned over the table and then deposited Carol’s red frothy drink and his beer.


“Before she was changed, but way before she actually saw our kind frolicking in the woods, she had a premonition of it.”


Ryan hadn’t expected Silva to offer the explanation, and he really wished she’d butt out, but he nodded. The so-called premonition was certainly easy to explain away. “She could have seen it happen, but not as a premonition.”


Silva smiled. “Tell him, Carol. Tell him how you saw us.”


Carol looked as though she didn’t think he would believe her, and he wasn’t sure she was going to bother explaining. She took a strawberry from a tiny, plastic pink sword in her drink, wrapped her glossy lips around it, and then sucked for a moment. He swore it was the most erotic thing he’d seen in a long damn time. And that she did it on purpose to stir him up again.


Then she took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “I saw men and women shifting in the woods near Darien’s place. They stripped out of their clothes, and in a blink of an eye, they were wolves.”


His gaze shifted to her dipping the strawberry back in her drink, and then he watched as she licked the sweet liquid off the remainder of the strawberry. It made him think of the way her tongue had touched and tasted and teased his earlier in such a seductive fashion when he had kissed her. And he was damn ready for a repeat performance. How appealing it would be to taste the sweet flavor of strawberries on her tongue!


Not intending to allow the vixen to distract him further, he cleared his throat. “I still say you could have seen this and then imagined that it had occurred as a vision. Dreamed it, whatever.”


Carol licked her lips in such a sensuous way that he swore she was trying to make him hot all over again. Even if she wasn’t doing so consciously, she sure had that effect on him. She dipped her strawberry back in the drink, pulled it out, slipped it into her mouth, and sighed.


Once she had finished the fruit, she pointed her tiny sword at him. “No, I saw everyone shift in the dark, and the night was foggy. As a human, I wouldn’t have been able to see what you can.”