Romancing the Alpha Page 9

  “Dr. Cross?” he called as he entered her inner lab. He wasn’t even surprised at what he saw.

  Jade Cross was standing next to a large, cylindrical glass case in the middle of the lab. Inside was another person - a redhead that Grant recognized as Lara Chatraine, Cady’s witch cousin. Dr. Cross was holding a tablet in one hand, her safety glasses perched on her nose.

  “Ready, Lara?” she asked.

  “Ready,” the redhead replied.

  “Ok, in three…two…one…” She gave the other woman a thumbs up.

  Lara closed her eyes and raised her hands. Nothing happened for the first few seconds, but then bits of paper began to float around her. They flitted around weakly at first, but as the witch’s face scrunched up in concentration, the pieces of paper began to fly wildly.

  “Oh, mother fluffer!” The brunette scientist frowned and stamped her foot in disappointment. Grant suppressed a smile at Dr. Cross’ creative use of language. It seemed the prim and proper lady in her, raised by her English mother, didn’t allow her to use crude language, so she made up some colorful phrases of her own.

  “Sorry Jade,” Lara said as she exited the glass chamber.

  “Ah, not your fault. I told you to do your best to break the dampening field,” Jade sighed and looked at her tablet. “Back to the drawing board.”

  Grant cleared his throat, which made both women look at him.

  “Primul,” Jade greeted.

  “Alpha,” Lara nodded.

  “Hello Dr. Cross, Lara,” Grant greeted back. “What’s the latest?”

  Jade sighed again. “Sorry about that. We were testing this special magic dampening bracelet I’ve been working on.” Lara raised her hand and showed off a thick silver bangle wrapped around her delicate wrist. “It works based off on the biochemistry signals that witches produce as they’re giving off energy-”

  “English, please, Dr. Cross,” Grant reminded her.

  The brunette blushed. “Right. Basically I’m trying to develop something that will stop witches - or mages - from using their powers, especially blessed witches,” she said, referring to the type of witch born with extra powers, aside from just activating potions and spells. Lara was one such type of witch, as she could control wind currents. During their first encounter with the mages, Vivianne, Lara’s mother had told them that Stefan and Daric also had these extra powers, though they couldn’t say what they were exactly. For sure they had seen both Stefan Daric not only move things with their minds, but also teleport themselves and others.

  “That’s actually not a bad idea,” Grant commented.

  “Well, I’ve only had this one prototype and it’s not working right,” she confessed.

  “It did, for a bit,” Lara patted the other woman on the shoulder. “I could definitely feel my powers being suppressed, but Jade told me to do my best to fight it off.”

  Since neither the Witch Assembly nor the Lycan High Council seemed inclined to prepare to defend themselves against the mages, Grant and Vivianne Chatraine decided the take matters into their own hands, at least discreetly. Grant had directed Dr. Cross to put all her resources and efforts into defensive tactics and technologies, and Vivianne had gladly given permission for her daughter, Lara, to assist them, with the understanding that she wouldn’t be harmed and that all knowledge gained with the research would belong to both sides equally. Grant was happy to agree to such an arrangement. Seeing as she was Cady’s cousin, it was easy enough to explain Lara’s sudden appearance and she became an official Fenrir employee, working as “lab intern” for Dr. Cross, who was supposedly working in their Food R and D division. Lara was also set up in her own apartment not far from Fenrir and she would go home every weekend upstate to her coven. According to Cady, Jade and Lara had also become fast friends, since they were about the same age and now worked together closely.

  “Off to a great start then,” Grant commended.

  “Thank you Alpha,” Jade replied. “Now, was there anything you needed in particular?”

  “Ah, yes,” Grant remembered. “The blood sample Dr. Faulkner sent to you? Did you find out anything?”

  Dr. Cross put her safety glasses away. “Ah, yes. I tested the sample, but I’m afraid the traces were too degraded for me to figure out definitively what it was, but I have some theories,” she tapped on her pad, and then gestured to one of the screens. “It’s definitely magical, based on your description. Lara helped me identify some of the ingredients.”

  “I’m not the best in potion making, Alpha,” Lara interjected. “But, I can tell you it’s like some bastardized version of a confusion potion.”

  “And that’s what worries me,” Jade’s brows were knitted.

  “Why?” Grant asked.

  The two women looked at each other and Lara nodded. Jade turned back to Grant. “Well, from what Lara’s been teaching me about potions, they often have to be measured and portioned based on the target. If this potion affected you, that meant it mixed specifically for Lycan physiology.”

  Lara continued. “And the only way to do that…”

  “Would be to have a Lycan subject to test it on,” Jade finished and tapped on her pad. “They might possibly have a Lycan subject or subjects to test on. Of course, they can’t test for every variable. Your weight, height, metabolic rate, activity level, are all things to consider. If they had an expert potions-maker and had the right tools, they could get a potion near perfect enough to make sure you couldn’t metabolize it until they got you somewhere they could secure you.”

  “Still the fact that they could knock you out and bring you what…thirty miles or so before you woke up? That’s still pretty close,” Lara supplied. “I mean, witches haven’t had to create potions that would work on Lycans for a long time, so there’s no definitive recipe that can ensure it would last against your enhanced metabolism.”

  Grant sighed. “I’ll have Nick or Alynna check and see if any of our people are missing.” He shook his head. The mages had to be stopped, especially if they were bold enough to actually capture Lycans to experiment on.

  “Good,” Jade nodded. “I’ll let you know if I find anything else.”

  “Excellent,” Grant said. “Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I’m headed out to dinner. Have a good weekend, and say hello to your mother for me, Lara.” With that, he left the lab.

  Chapter Eleven

  Frankie pulled up to her spot in the back of Muccino’s, then shifted the car into park. With a long sigh, she gripped the steering wheel and stared at the back door leading into the restaurant.

  It had been seven days since Grant had last come to Muccino’s. Part of her was glad he didn’t come back. She shivered, remembering what had happened - almost happened, she corrected herself mentally - in her office. Her body had been on fire, wanting him so bad. And it scared her. She had never felt like that, not with anyone else and even until now, her traitorous body was humming with desire and craving Grant’s touch. She shook her head, trying forget. Still, every night since then she’d dressed up a little bit, just in case he did come back. But a whole week passed and no sign of Grant.

  Tonight, however, she was dressed carefully in a white blazer and lace top, white pencil-cut skirt, and matching pumps. Her makeup was applied lightly to enhance her features and her thick black hair pinned up in a French twist. She wanted to look nice, but also dress professionally.

  Enzo had gotten a tip from a friend in New York that there was going to be some important food critic from a major national newspaper was going to pay them a visit tonight. She initially wanted to come to Muccino’s early, but her brothers assured her that they would make sure everything was perfect at the restaurant, but she had to do her part to prepare. They sent her tons of articles and materials to study and read at home, to make sure she could answer any question the critic might throw at her. She trusted her brothers to take care of things at the restaurant, so she did her part and read through all the materials they sent her.

&nbs
p; Frankie entered the back door and headed to her office. However, as she was about to enter, she realized that the hallway going to the dining room was completely dark.

  What’s going on? Frankie frowned and walked towards the dining room.

  It wasn’t pitch dark, but only the lights in the middle of the room were on. A single table was set up, lit by three candles.

  “Enzo? Dante?” she called out. “Matty? Rafe? Nonna?”

  The kitchen door swung open and her heart thudded in her chest when she saw who it was.

  “Grant?”

  He grinned at her, his face turning devilishly handsome. His hair was slicked back, jaw cleanly-shaven. He was wearing a black suit, white shirt and no tie, just the collar left open, exposing the tanned skin of his throat. “Hello Frankie.” He was also holding a bottle of their best red wine and two glasses.

  “What are you doing here? You can’t be here, we have an important critic coming tonight!”

  He gave her a sheepish look and walked towards her, placing the bottle and glasses on the table. “Yeah, about that…”

  Grant didn’t have to finish his sentence. Frankie felt her cheeks grow hot, anger rising in her. “There’s no critic, is there?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Frankie let out a string of Italian curses, and then turned to leave. A warm hand wrapped around her forearm and she stopped as a zing of electricity shot up her arm, desire sweeping through her body. She swallowed a gulp and closed her eyes.

  “Don’t go, please Frankie, I’m sorry…for making your brothers lie to you.”

  “Of course they were in on this!” She slapped her hand on her forehead, then turned around. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing, I swear,” he said. “Well, I mean…I told them I just wanted to take you out to dinner, but you kept saying you were busy running the restaurant. So, I said I’d buy out every table tonight, and give all your staff double what they would have made in tips.”

  Her eyes went round as saucers. “What?”

  “Frankie, the other night…things went too far too fast,” he admitted. “But I don’t regret it. I want you, and I know you want me too.”

  Her nostrils flared. “We can’t always have what we want.”

  “But there’s nothing stopping us from trying,” he countered. Frankie crossed her arms over her chest and he let out a sigh. “Look, what’s the harm in having dinner with me? Here in your own restaurant. Nonna Gianna even made your favorite dish and showed me how to serve it to you.”

  “My favorite dish?”

  “Yeah, veal involtini.”

  Her keen senses picked up the smell the veal, cheese and garlic from the kitchen. Involtini or braciola was her favorite dish in the whole world. It was made by wrapping thin slices of veal around cheese and herbs, then baked in the oven with a little bit of olive oil. Her grandmother, and now Nonna Gianna, only made it on her birthday. Her stomach growled loudly and she realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Grant stifled a laugh and she cursed her tummy.

  “Fine,” she said with a defeated sigh.

  He pulled out a chair for her and she sat down. His hand brushed over her shoulder. “Good, now just sit back. You don’t have to do a thing.”

  She gave him a smirk as he filled her glass.

  True to his word, Grant took care of everything. The salad was already on the table, as well as the starters, so all he had to do was take out the veal after he cleared their plates. Of course Nonna Gianna and Dante probably prepared the food, but Grant was attentive, refilling her glass when she was running low and making sure she didn’t even need to stand up to get more bread.

  “This food really is amazing,” Grant said as he took a bite of the veal. “All the food you serve is from family recipes?”

  She nodded, her eyes closed as she savored the flavors of the veal, cheese, garlic and olive oil. “Mmm-hmm. Nonna Guilia immigrated here from Positano in Italy. The previous Alpha was a cousin of hers, who didn’t have children of her own, which is why she was chosen to take over. My mother was only seven when they moved here. My grandmother and my grandfather started the restaurant.”

  “The American dream,” he raised his glass. “To your grandparents.”

  She clinked her glass to his. “To my grandparents.”

  “And now? What are your plans?”

  Frankie blinked in confusion. “What do you mean plans?”

  “Well, your business…do you want to expand? Maybe branch out? Or you could go into food manufacturing and bottle up your sauce. I think a Muccino-branded tomato sauce would fly off the shelves.”

  “Well, I’d like to keep running the restaurant but-” She stopped herself and frowned, thinking of the dipping profits and their bills.

  “But what?” he cocked his head.

  “Nothing,” she sipped her wine. “Now, tell me how you got my brothers and Nonna Gianna to agree to this,” she asked, quickly changing the subject.

  “Oh, they were on-board from the beginning. Enzo especially,” Grant quipped.

  “Enzo?” she asked, her voice rising at the end. It wasn’t that she and hated Enzo each other, of course they didn’t. But she and her middle brother often clashed, which Dante attributed to them having such similar and passionate personalities.

  “Yeah. He said, ‘Frankie needs to get some, then maybe she’d get that stick out of her butt and stop meddling in our lives.’”

  Frankie snorted. “Of course. But that still doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Well, I called Dante and asked him what it would take to get you out of the restaurant for a one night and go out with me,” he explained. “And he basically said that there was no way you would take a day off and you even go in on Mondays to do bookkeeping and admin stuff. So, I said, if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad…”

  “I see,” she took a sip of the wine. It was an excellent vintage and she’d had one glass of it herself from a bottle they had a few years ago. “So you decide to bribe my family and pay off my staff.”

  Grant put down his fork, and he reached over to grab her hand. She was so surprised that she didn’t have time to pull away. “I decided to come to the mountain,” he said softly. His thumb made circles on her palm, sending heat through her entire body. She lowered her lashes as desire pooled in her belly, her arousal so strong she could feel the dampness between her legs. He must have scented it too as his nostrils flared and his eyes glowed into deep green pools.

  God, one touch was all it took and she was melting. The air between them began to feel heavy, and she knew one spark was all it would take. “I…I can’t…” she pulled her hand away.

  He huffed, his eyes returning to normal. “Why are you fighting this, Frankie?” he asked.

  “Because…” She didn’t know the answer. It wasn’t wrong, but her head was screaming at her, telling her it wouldn’t work out. That she would be hurt again when he decided she wasn’t good enough for him. It was suffocating, and the air was thick. Men always leave.

  Out…out…

  And there it was. Her inner Alpha wolf, struggling to get free, trying to protect her from the hurt the memories were conjuring up again.

  She stood up and tossed her napkin on the table, running out of the restaurant.

  ***

  Grant sat for a moment, dumbfounded. What did I do wrong?

  Without another thought, he stood up and followed Frankie outside.

  The other Alpha was standing in the empty parking lot, her arms wrapped around herself, breathing heavily.

  “Frankie, please…”

  She turned around and her eyes were glowing, one a bright green sphere, the other an icy blue pool. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” she took a deep breath. “I need to…get out of here…out of this skin…”

  “It’s my fault.” What Grant didn’t tell Frankie was the strange warning he got from Dante. Though the other Lycan supported Grant’s pursuit of his sister, he told her that wooing Frankie
wouldn’t not be easy. He alluded that he’d been hurt too many times and since then, had never let anyone in. Frankie was like a wounded animal, skittish and guarded, and she could bolt any moment. And in this moment, he could feel that she was ready to run.

  “I’m sorry for taking things too fast,” he shook his head. He didn’t want to scare her away, not when he had seen some of the iciness chipping away from her. It pained him to take things so slow, when all he wanted was to make her his. He sighed and turned to leave.

  “Grant, wait,” she called. Her voice shaky, but strong.

  Hope blossomed in his chest. “Yes?”

  “Shift with me.”

  Her request made him dumbstruck. “What?”

  “I need to change. I can feel it. To shift. Run in the woods and just feel the earth under my paws and the wind in my fur.” Her brows furrowed when he gave her a strange look. “Don’t you get that urge? To just let your inner Lycan free? I get antsy if it’s been too long.”

  Grant frowned. “You know we can’t just do that.”

  She gave him a sardonic smile. “I know you city Lycans can’t just run down Fifth Avenue and chase around tourists. But, we’re a little looser out here in the country. Have you never visited clans that don’t live in the city?”

  He opened his mouth and stopped. Searching his memories, Grant realized, that aside from a few trips to the countryside with his folks, Blood Moon shifts and of course, rescuing Cady a few months ago, he didn’t just let his wolf free. The actual rule stated that Lycans couldn’t just shift in front of humans for no reason. Since he lived in one of the densest cities in the world, he was always surrounded by humans.

  Something deep growled within him, an inner voice urging him. Urging him to let it out, wanting to break free. Wanting to roam the woods with Frankie’s wolf.

  She must have sensed it, as a deep rumbling sound came from her chest. God, it was sexy, and made him want to march over to her and nip her all over her luscious body, especially on the neck. All his life, he was expected to be in control, be the Alpha. It came with a lot of privileges, but also so many responsibilities. No one would understand, except another Alpha.