Werewolves in London (Peyton Brooks, FBI Book 3) Read online

  “Don’t hog the beefcake!” shouted someone across the room. “Would you look at this one?”

  As the men closed in on him, Marco took an involuntary step back, searching for Abe in the crowd.

  “How are you, sweet thing?”

  “Would you look at those blue eyes?”

  “He’s mine. I saw him first.”

  Marco found himself pressed against the door, scrambling for the doorknob when Abe appeared from the kitchen, carrying a pitcher of something in an obscene color.

  “Angel!” he exclaimed and passed the pitcher off to the first person he found, then he shoved his way through the crowd toward Marco. “Back off. Back off, you vultures. This one’s mine.”

  Hooking an arm around Marco’s shoulders, he shooed the other men away. They grumbled, but backed off, returning to their dance party. Abe shifted Marco to face him, placing his hands on his cheeks.

  “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

  Marco gave a relieved laugh. “No, you got here in time.”

  “I’m sorry, Angel. I thought you were with Peyton. I honestly didn’t think you’d be home tonight, so I had a little get-together.”

  Marco glanced around the room. Only Abe would call this a little get-together. “It’s fine. I’ll just go out.”

  Abe turned his face back to him. “What happened? Did you fight again?”

  Marco really didn’t want to discuss it with all these men around. “Mike was there.”

  “Mike? The guy who falls off his bike?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “Why the hell was he there?”

  “You tell me. Where the hell did she meet that guy anyway?”

  “I’m not sure. Bar or something.”

  “That’s just great.”

  “What was he doing there?”

  “Waiting for her. She broke a date with him, so he thought he’d stake out her house.”

  Abe frowned. “Give me a minute to get rid of everyone.”

  “No, Abe, don’t do that. I’ll just go out.”

  “You don’t have to leave. This is your home, Angel.”

  Marco glanced over his shoulder. “There’s a little too much booze here for me right now. I’m gonna go somewhere else, okay?”

  “No, I’ll clear everyone out.”

  “Please don’t do that. That’ll make me feel worse.”

  “Where are you going to go?”

  “My brother’s. I’ll be fine. I just need to get out for a while. Don’t worry, okay? I’m fine.”

  Abe searched his face. “I’m gonna call you in a little bit and you better answer, you hear me?”

  “Yeah, fine.” He moved toward the door. “Don’t worry, okay?”

  “If I call, you pick up.”

  “I will.” He slipped into the hallway and shut the door at his back, muting the music. Leaning against it, he wasn’t sure what the hell to do now. He didn’t want to bother his brothers on a Sunday. This was their family time and they’d likely be at his parents’ anyway. He sure as hell didn’t need his mother fussing over him right now.

  He took the elevator back to the garage and climbed behind the wheel of the Charger, then he drove to the nearest pizza parlor and ordered a pizza. After it was done, he drove until he found himself in front of Jake Ryder’s apartment. Resigned, he climbed out and walked to the door, knocking.

  Jake opened it. He wore a pair of sweats and a Giants ball cap. “Adonis, what are you doing here?”

  “Abe’s having a gay pride parade in our living room, so I need a place to chill for a few hours. I brought a pizza. You busy?”

  “No, just watching the baseball game. Come in.” He threw the door open and Marco stepped inside only to be accosted by Jake’s German Shepherd, Tater.

  Jake caught the dog by the collar and held him off. “Sorry. Come in.”

  Marco handed him the pizza and took a seat on the brown faux suede couch. An enormous flat screened television dominated the wall before the couch, showing the Giants game in high definition. This was his kind of room.

  “Want a soda?” asked Jake, setting the pizza on the glass coffee table.

  “Sure.”

  Jake walked into the galley kitchen and returned a moment later with two cans, passing one to Marco. Marco opened it and took a sip, resting his hand on Tater’s head as the dog laid it on his thigh.

  Jake held out a paper plate to him, but Marco waved it off.

  “I’m not hungry. I already ate.”

  Jake gave him a wry look. “Why’d you get a pizza then?”

  “I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea.”

  Jake continued to study him as he sank onto the other end of the couch. “Let me guess, vegetarian?” he said, opening the box.

  “You think I’d bring you cow or pig?”

  Jake gave a sarcastic laugh. “No, that would be ridiculous. Who wants pepperoni on their pizza?”

  “Just be glad it isn’t cheese.”

  “That might have been better.”

  “Eat the damn pizza and shut up!” snapped Marco.

  Jake’s brows lifted as he put a slice on his plate. “Ah, this doesn’t have anything to do with Abe’s party, does it?”

  “What?”

  “Abe said you were going to dinner with Peyton. What happened?”

  “Shit. What do you and Abe do, gossip over your periods? And why aren’t you at Abe’s party tonight?”

  “I’m not gay and I’m not a woman, Adonis. You’re deflecting. What happened?”

  Marco stared at the television. Tater pushed his head under his hand. “Can we just watch the damn game in silence?”

  “Sure.” Jake leaned back on the couch and began eating.

  Marco tried to concentrate, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to talk about Peyton with Jake. At least he didn’t think he did. Staring into Tater’s brown eyes, he rubbed the dog’s ear. “She’s got this new stray.”

  “Stray? Dog?”

  “Man. This Mike idiot. I think he’s stalking her.”

  “What do you mean he’s stalking her?”

  “He was sitting on her doorstep, waiting for her.”

  “I remember you doing that a few times when I was living there,” said Jake around a mouthful of pizza.

  Marco glared at him. “I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t like any man around her. Why was he there?”

  “He said she broke a date with him and he was worried about her.”

  “A date?”

  “She said it wasn’t a date, but…”

  “But? What more do you want?”

  “He was sitting on her doorstep.”

  “People always do that with Peyton. You know that, but if she said it wasn’t a date, it wasn’t a date.”

  “Can we just watch the game?” Marco snarled.

  Jake leaned over and grabbed another slice. “Sure. Let’s watch the game. By the way, this is damn good pizza.” He took another bite and gave Marco a stupid grin. “For vegetarian.”

  * * *

  Pounding on the door brought Peyton out of a deep sleep. She rolled over and looked at the bedside clock. 8:00PM. Throwing back the covers, she stumbled into the living room, rubbing the last of sleep from her eyes. Pickles, her Yorkshire terrier, bounced around the front door, barking like a lunatic.

  Scooping him up, she peeked through the peep hole, groaning when she saw Maria and another woman on the other side. Sliding back the deadbolt, she peered out. “Hey, Maria, what’s up?”

  “What’s up? I get married in two months, that’s what’s up. Let us in.” She pushed at the door.

  Peyton stepped back and let the two women inside. They both carried bags filled with magazines. Peyton guessed the other woman had to be related to Maria. They were the same height and had the same curvaceous figures.

  “Did we have plans or something?” Peyton asked in confusion.

  Maria took in Peyton’s mussed hair and 49er’s jersey. Actually
, it was Marco’s jersey, but Peyton just couldn’t give it up. She’d gotten used to sleeping in it, pretending it still smelled of him.

  The other woman gave Peyton a critical once-over as well. “You’re right. No boobs to speak of.” She walked around behind Peyton. “And not much ass.”

  “She used to have more ass before she started losing all this weight.”

  The woman sank her hands into Peyton’s mane of curls. “Probably best to just cut this all off.”

  “No!” Peyton stepped away from the woman, putting a protective hand on her hair.

  “You can’t do that. She’s super possessive over it, but if we start a serious conditioning regime, what do you think?”

  “It might be ready in time.”

  “Ready in time?” Peyton blinked in confusion at Maria and held Pickles close as if he could protect her. “For what?”

  Maria rolled her eyes. “Did you forget already? You’re my bridesmaid.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “We’ve got to plan the wedding.”

  “I thought it wasn’t until July. It’s just May.”

  “And you’re going to get another case, then you’ll be off to God knows where. I gotta get you while I can.”

  The other woman turned Peyton to face her. “She’s got a cute face. Not gorgeous, but cute.”

  “Yeah, but she’s so damn short.”

  “Hey!” Peyton tugged her chin out of the woman’s hand. “Not to be rude, but who are you?”

  “Maria’s sister, Marta.” Of course.

  “Look, Brooks, we’re gonna need coffee. We’ve got a lot to plan and we’re probably going to be here all night.”

  “All night? I have to work tomorrow.”

  “Well, then the sooner we get started, the sooner you can go back to bed.” She held up the bag containing the magazines. “We’ve got to pick wedding colors and bridesmaids’ dresses and flatware. Do you have any idea how many patterns of flatware there are?”

  Peyton realized her mouth hung open. She shut it and set Pickles on the couch, then went into the kitchen after the coffee. What was the point of fighting it when they were talking flatware?

  Maria and her sister started setting out the magazines on Peyton’s coffee table, arranging them based on purpose. A few seconds later, Maria appeared in the kitchen beside her.

  “What happened?”

  Peyton looked up from spooning grounds into the pot. “What?”

  “Why are you in bed at 8:00, wearing his jersey?”

  Peyton glanced out at Marta, but she was busy leafing through a thick bridal magazine. “Nothing happened. I’m just tired.”

  “I’m not stupid, Brooks. Spill it.”

  Peyton set the bag of coffee on the counter and reached for the pot, filling it with water. “He came and took me to dinner.”

  “And?”

  “That’s all. He took me to dinner.”

  “That’s not all. Spill it!”

  Peyton poured the water into the machine. “Mike was waiting here when we got home.”

  “Who the hell is Mike?”

  “This guy I met at a bar.”

  “What guy? What bar? When did you go to a bar without me?”

  “What?” Peyton settled the coffee pot on the burner and gave Maria a bewildered look.

  “You went to a bar without your best friend?”

  “I went with Bambi.”

  “Who’s Bambi?”

  “A co-worker.”

  “And you didn’t even bother to tell me about it?” Maria fixed a hand on her hip.

  Peyton didn’t know how to respond. Somehow this conversation had taken a weird turn. “What’s happening?”

  “I’m your best friend. If you go out, you’re supposed to ask me to go with you. That’s how things work.”

  Peyton didn’t think that’s how they worked at all, but she’d never had a female best friend before, especially a self-proclaimed one. “You’re engaged, Maria.”

  “What does that matter? I can still go to a bar if I want.”

  “I...uh…”

  Maria gave a huff of exasperation. “Honestly, Brooks, do you try to hurt me?”

  “No, I…”

  “Marta,” she shouted into the living room.

  “What?”

  “You know what would help her lack of butt?”

  “No, what?”

  “A big ass bow.”

  “Oh, shit yeah, I’ve got just the dress for that.”

  “A bow?” squeaked out Peyton.

  “A big ASS bow,” hissed Maria, leaning close to her.

  Not a bow, Peyton thought. Anything but a bow.

  CHAPTER 2

  His mother opened the bedroom door and peered through the crack. “Who are you talking to, Charlie?”

  He looked up from the plastic blocks he was using to build a bridge and blinked at her. Sometimes when he answered questions like this one, she got that scared look on her face. He didn’t like that look. He didn’t like when she was scared.

  She pushed the door open and stepped into his room. His father peered in behind her. His father got the same look, but while his mother might follow it up with lifting him into her lap and cuddling him, his father always looked like he wanted to run away.

  “Tell me, love. Who were you talking to?” She came and squatted next to him, running her hand over his hair.

  “Niles.”

  “Niles?” Her eyes shifted away from him, took in the room, then came back. “Is Niles still here?”

  He frowned at that. Of course Niles was still there. Niles never left. Not even for a little while. “Yes, Mum.” He picked up a block and pretended to put it on the last one he’d used, but he’d forgotten what he was doing the moment she opened the door. He caught the look she shared with his father.

  “Can you tell me what Niles looks like, Charlie?” She stroked a hand over his head again.

  “He’s a wolf.”

  “A wolf?” She tried to smile, but it came out strained. “A wolf, is he? Now that’s something, isn’t it?”

  He didn’t answer. It was one of those questions that didn’t require a response. He picked up another block.

  “You talk to Niles a lot, don’t you?”

  He shrugged.

  “I hear you talk to Niles a lot, now don’t I?”

  He wasn’t sure what she heard, so he wasn’t sure how to answer her.

  “Charlie?” She placed her hand under his chin and turned his face until their eyes met. “Does Niles talk back? Does he say things to you?”

  Of course he did. What would be the point if he didn’t talk? In fact, that was the main part of their relationship. Niles talked and Charlie listened. “He talks.”

  His father came into the room, circling around them and taking a seat on the bed. “What sort of things does he say to you, Charlie?”

  Charlie looked up at him. Instinctively he knew his father didn’t really want to know the answer to this. He just asked because he felt he had to. “Stuff.”

  “What stuff, Charlie?” asked his mother.

  “Just stuff.”

  She brushed hair away from his cheek. “Listen here, Charlie, I’d like you to ask Niles to stop talking to you. Do you think you could do that? Ask him to stop?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, it just might make it easier on all of us. You know? If Niles went away. It would make it easier on your teachers if Niles wasn’t around anymore.”

  Charlie considered that. He’d never thought of a world where Niles wasn’t a part of it, but maybe it would be okay. Maybe he could try, if it would make his teachers happy.

  “And your mum,” said his father as if he read the shift in Charlie’s thoughts. “It would make it loads better on your mum if Niles wasn’t around anymore.”

  Charlie continued to think, staring into his mother’s expectant, hopeful eyes and he knew he wanted to please her. If it would make things easier on all of them, he could stop talk
ing to Niles. He could pretend that Niles didn’t exist. He could ignore Niles’s constant efforts to communicate. Yes, he could do all of this.

  Just…

  That didn’t mean Niles had to listen.

  * * *

  Abe hesitated at the door to the kitchen, giving it a blurry-eyed once over. Marco flipped a pancake and watched him as he gingerly walked to the bistro set and took a seat. Grabbing a mug, Marco poured him a cup of coffee and carried it to him.

  Abe took it with a pained smile and sipped. “Did you clean up the mess?”

  “Yep.”

  “You didn’t have to do that, Angel.”

  Marco dished up a plate of pancakes and brought them to Abe, sliding the butter and syrup across the table at him.

  “And you made me breakfast?”

  “Sure.”

  “That’s so sweet of you.” He placed a hand against his chest and gave Marco an affected pout.

  Marco dished up his own plate and took a seat across from him, hooking his cane over the back of the chair.

  “You don’t have to do these things for me, Angel.”

  “You let me live here for free. It’s nothing.” He slapped a wedge of butter on his pancake. “Besides, Ryder swears pancakes soak up the alcohol from a bender.”

  Abe cut into his breakfast. “There is absolutely no scientific evidence to back that up.”

  Marco shrugged and started eating.

  Abe ate for a moment in silence, then gave Marco a searching look. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’s the leg?”

  “Like walking on ground glass.” He grabbed his coffee and swallowed a mouthful.

  “When did Grey schedule your surgery for?”

  “He didn’t. His schedule was booked, so they’re going to call me when he gets an opening.”

  “Good.” They ate in silence for a few minutes, then Abe looked up again. “You sure you’re okay?”

  Marco set down his fork and pushed the plate away. His appetite had left him. “I don’t know. I screwed up with Peyton again. I should never have left. I should have stayed and worked it out. Why do I keep doing that, Abe?”

  “Well, you had eight years to figure out how to be her partner. You’ve just started trying to be more. Seems to me it might take a little more time to figure that out as well.”