Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha-Chapter 127: Camera Footage

"What should I call you? Since we keep running into each other in such... intimate circumstances."

His lips quirk up. "Does it matter?"

"It matters when someone breaks into my bedroom." I cross my arms. "Unless you prefer ’creepy stalker who isn’t actually a panther’?"

"That’s quite a mouthful." He runs his fingers along the dresser’s edge. "Most people just call me Shadow."

"Shadow? Really?" The best alias he could come up with is something from a teenage vampire novel?

"Would you prefer something more mundane? John Smith, perhaps?"

"I’d prefer the truth."

"The truth is rarely useful." He moves to the window, his reflection ghosting across the glass. "And names have power in our world, Nicole d’Armand."

The way he says my name sends a chill down my spine. Almost like he really does have power over me just by speaking my name. It’s strange. "Fine. Shadow it is." I step closer, keeping the bed between us. "So what’s your deal with the Conclave? You seem to know an awful lot about what’s going on."

He’s as calm as ever. "The Conclave and I have... differing opinions on many things."

"Such as?"

His voice hardens. "Their methods of control. Their tendency to treat people like pawns in their games."

"Not a fan then?"

"Let’s just say we’re not on each other’s Yule card lists."

I circle the bed, closing the distance. "Why are you here, Shadow? Because if this is another warning about dragons—"

"I want to know what the Conclave has told you." He turns from the window. "About your role in all this. About what you are."

"Why do you care what they’ve told me?"

"Call it curiosity."

I cross my arms and lean against the dresser. "Let’s talk about something else. That night at the bar, when you warned me. What was supposed to happen?"

Shadow arches a brow. "You haven’t figured it out yet?"

"No." Obviously. Would I be asking if I did?

"For someone in security, you’re terrible at being observant."

"Cut the cryptic bullshit. Just tell me straight."

"Tell me what the Conclave has shared with you first."

A laugh escapes my throat. "No. I’m done being jerked around by everyone. You want information from me? Start sharing some of your own."

Shadow studies me, his head tilted. "You’ve changed."

"Yeah, getting kidnapped and almost killed multiple times will do that to a person, I guess." Also the fact that I no longer feel afraid around him.

"You should work with a qualified magitherapist before you progress too far in your studies."

The non sequitur throws me for a loop. "What does that even mean?" Familiar frustration builds up in my chest. I’m so sick of these people and their inability to tell me anything straight.

He watches me impassively. "That’s for you to find out."

The lights flicker, and when they stabilize, he’s gone. Again. At this point, his disappearing act is about as surprising as finding dust in an attic.

I need to tell Logan about this. Soon as I see him.

I stick my head out into the hallway. "Hey, Penelope? You know if there are cameras in here?"

* * *

As it turns out, there are cameras just about everywhere.

Including the bedroom.

Logan grunts. "I’ll tear it out."

"Thanks."

Penelope had called him as soon as I told her what happened, and he was at our door in fifteen minutes. He’s also dressed in plaid flannel and jeans, channeling his inner lumbersexual. I’m not sure what that’s about, but that question can wait for another day.

Right now, I’m far more interested in the footage we’re hunting down.

The security room’s fluorescent lights cast an eerie glow over the bank of monitors. My neck cramps from leaning forward, scanning every pixel of movement on the screen.

"You know, when I pictured our first official date with you out on bond, I imagined something more romantic than security footage."

I smack Logan upside the head without taking my eyes off the screen. "Shut up and watch."

"Yes, ma’am."

The timestamp clicks forward. My heart pounds as I watch myself enter my bedroom. The image flickers, dissolves into static. Black screen.

"Wait." I jab my finger at the monitor. "Right there. What happened?"

The security guard leans forward, adjusts his thick-rimmed glasses. "Huh. Must be a glitch in the system."

"For how long?" Logan asks with deceptive calm.

"Let me check." The guard’s fingers click across the keyboard. "About eight minutes."

The footage resumes crystal clear—empty room, window closed, no sign of Shadow. Well, empty except for me. My stomach knots.

"And this happens often?" Logan crosses his arms.

"First time I’ve seen it." The guard scratches his head. "We just upgraded the whole system last month. State of the art."

"I see. Well, thanks for your help. We appreciate you staying late to show us."

The guard snaps a salute. "Any time, sir."

We maintain silence until we’re in our private penthouse elevator. Logan’s hand finds the small of my back, rubbing little circles there as the floors count up.

"Eight minutes," I drawl. "That’s some convenient glitch."

"Too convenient."

"That’s what worries me." Logan’s fingers drum against my spine. "This is no ordinary man. He has an agenda."

I fish my keys from my pocket once the elevator dings. "Yeah. I know."

The lock clicks open to reveal Penelope perched on the couch, legs tucked under her, nursing a cup of coffee.

"Well?" She sits up straighter. "Did you catch our mystery man on camera?"

I drop onto the cushion beside her. "Nope. Video feed cut out until he left. Oh, and there are definitely cameras in our bedrooms. Logan’s going to take them out."

"I figured. I’ve been changing in the bathroom."

Logan’s fingers ruffle my hair as he strides past. "I’ll take care of those cameras. Both rooms?"

"Yes, please." The touch lingers on my scalp, a ghost of warmth that almost makes me forget the mess we’re in. Almost.

Penelope sets her coffee on the glass table. "So what’s the plan with our shifty panther friend?"

I press my fingers against my temples, trying to massage away the tension headache building there. "No clue. He shows up, speaks in riddles, then vanishes into thin air. How do you plan for that?"

"We could set a trap?"

"With what? Catnip?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of tuna, but sure, we can try both."

A snort escapes me despite everything. Trust Pippa to find humor in this disaster.

"Hey, speaking of..." I twist to face her. "Has anyone else been picked up for Nancy’s murder? Any suspects?"

She tucks a strand of her vibrant red hair behind her ear. "Not a whisper. The police are keeping it pretty quiet now, but my regulars at the bar say there’s nothing. No arrests, no persons of interest. Just you, but of course that’s over." ƒгeewebnovёl.com

The knot in my chest loosens a fraction. At least no innocent person will take the fall for this. Small mercies.

A crash echoes from my bedroom, followed by Logan’s muffled curse.

"Everything okay in there?" I call out.

"Fine. These things are mounted better than bank vault cameras."

Penelope raises an eyebrow. "Should I ask how he knows that?"

"Probably not." I sink deeper into the couch cushions. "The less we know about Logan’s expertise in surveillance equipment, the better our plausible deniability."

Another crash. "Got it!" Logan’s voice carries through the wall. "One down, one to go."