About Face. Amy Lee Burgess

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СКАЧАТЬ Enough uncertainty shone in his eyes to let me know his doubt was eroding. Faith’s accuracy tended to do that. I wondered what she had dreamed for him that had come true.

      Faith frowned, and I went cold again. It wasn’t going to be good, I just knew it. She hadn’t had some hearts-and-roses reunion dream. No, of course not.

      “I was tired from the party, and I took a nap about an hour ago and dreamed. I woke up and knew I had to come tell you about it. My dream didn’t make much sense, but I remember he had an Irish accent. I can’t remember much of what your bond mate said except that once he said, Now do you believe in me again? You were there, and you were crying, but I don’t remember why. You said, Yes, I believe in you. I belong to you. And he smiled, but it was so wistful and haunting.” Determination filled Faith’s voice. “I think it was a dream about your bond mate and how you need to be together.”

      I frowned. I belong to you? That wasn’t something I’d say to Murphy, but it did remind me of something that had been said to me once. The bastard.

      Suspicion made my voice prickly. “What did he look like? My bond mate.”

      Faith frowned in concentration as she struggled to bring up the dream memory. Scott shifted his weight and sighed.

      “Dark curly hair. Oh, and one blue eye, one brown eye. He looked like a really nice guy, Stanzie.” Faith bit her lip and might have gone on, but I interrupted her.

      “It wasn’t a dream about Murphy. That’s Paddy O’Reilly you’re describing, my Alpha. And I’d never say that to him. I don’t belong to him, the lying bastard.”

      “Whoa, are you saying the Alpha of Mac Tire has curly dark hair and different-colored eyes?” Scott was shaken. I nodded.

      “Goddamn it,” he said. “Faith, she must have told you about him.”

      “No,” Faith denied. She put a hand on his shoulder, and he almost, but not quite, shrugged it away. “Now do you believe I dreamed I would meet you at the Regional? I did, you know. Down to the Red Sox baseball cap you wore to the meet and greet.”

      “Bullshit,” he whispered, but more of his skepticism fell away. He took a deep breath.

      “Maybe you’d better go, Stanzie,” he said, and my heart performed a strange dance in my chest.

      “Paddy O’Reilly is a lying bastard.” I was furious with Faith’s damn dream. I would never tell that man I belonged to him. Ever. Paddy had betrayed me when he left me behind. He told me I was family and then not even a week later walked away.

      Scott recovered his equilibrium and grinned. “Jesus, why don’t you tell us how you really feel about this guy?”

      “Shut up, Charest,” I snapped, and he winked at me.

      “Maybe I should try that line out on some of the Mayflower ladies. You belong to me!” He made his voice sound like Bela Lugosi’s in Dracula.

      “Fuck off, Scott.”

      “Yeah, that’s pretty much the response I’d probably get. I guess I’m no Irish heartthrob Alpha, huh?” He laughed. But he sobered at the look on my face.

      “It’s not funny.” I was so pissed at Paddy if he’d been in the room with me I would have spat at him. Scott’s lame sense of humor only made my humiliation worse.

      “Okay, okay, I’m getting that now. God, Stanzie, it was just a joke. How could you take a line like that seriously? Oh, hell, you did. He said it, you took it seriously, and he fucked it all up. Now you’re going to kick my ass, right?”

      “Just stop talking about it,” I rumbled, so close to tears I could taste them. I belong to you, my ass, Paddy O’Reilly.

      Faith’s expression was somber. Alarm bells zinged down my spine, and I tried to fight them. There was something about the dream she wasn’t telling me, I just knew it. “Stanzie, I’m sorry. I really thought it was about your bond mate. I still think you need to go to Dublin. I woke up thinking that. Just because he’s not your bond mate doesn’t change that. He’s your Alpha, lying bastard or not. Maybe you’d better skip the hunt and go tomorrow. I think he needs you.”

      “Needs me?” I scoffed, but a thread of disquiet wormed down my spine. Goddamn Faith and her stupid-ass dreams. I was not going to Dublin.

      Faith gave me one last look before she took Scott by the hand and led him out the door.

      I still think you need to go to Dublin. Faith’s words reverberated in my head until I wanted to scream. Need. Why did she have to say need? Was he in trouble? Was something wrong?

      “I do not belong to you, Paddy O’Reilly,” I announced, but even to my ears my voice sounded weak and unconvinced.

      Goddamn dreams.

       Chapter 3

      “May I sit down?” Startled, I glanced up from my solitary breakfast of eggs and bacon to see Jason Allerton with his hand on the chair opposite mine.

      Next to the motel was a small diner where many of us ate breakfast before attending the day’s activities at the Regional. However, it was barely past six o’clock, and until Jason’s arrival I had been the only Pack person there.

      I nodded, and my breakfast began to congeal into an uncomfortable lump in the pit of my stomach.

      Outside a light rain misted the diner windows, but the sun was attempting to burn through the cloud cover.

      Jason sat, but before he could say anything, the waitress hurried over to take his order. The Sunday morning rush was still two hours away, and she looked bored.

      He asked for coffee and a ham-and-cheese omelet, and I decided my breakfast was over. To keep my hands busy, I pulled my coffee cup closer and pretended I needed cream.

      “I owe you an apology, Stanzie.” My hand jerked at the unexpected words, and most of the cream ended up on the Formica tabletop, where it began a race toward my lap. I hastily swabbed at it with my napkin and cursed my clumsiness.

      Jason’s scent was apologetic. At least I detected no anger. That surprised me, too, and I gave him my full attention.

      “You’re absolutely right. I do default to Councilor mode. I’ve been one for so long now, it’s automatic. How dare anyone challenge me? You weren’t speaking to me as Councilor Allerton, you were talking to me as Jason Allerton, the man who swept into your mother’s life and went behind your back to court her.

      “Something that had developed between us over a two month span was dumped into your lap as fait accompli in two seconds over what you thought was an innocent dinner. You see, I thought my personal life was none of your business.”

      “It isn’t.” My throat was dry, and I wanted a sip of water in the worst way but couldn’t move.

      “It is if my personal life intersects with yours through your mother.”

      “She’s fifty-eight years old,” I reminded him.

      “We СКАЧАТЬ