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  Diego would be the first to admit he’d been a little distracted by the whole blood-and-skin thing, really hating the visual that put in his head, but he hadn’t missed the part about Ken’s client list. Hobbs played everybody. Especially Dave.

  “You got Dave fixated on the big targets, the banks and jewelry stores, while you went behind his back and cherry-picked the good stuff from Ken’s client list, knowing it would all lead back to Dave in the end anyway,” Diego said. “That way the cops would spend months trying to figure out where Dave hid the stuff, not thinking to look anywhere else.”

  Hobbs didn’t say anything, but the smirk that crossed his face told Diego everything he needed to know. He saw the man’s eyes dart toward the windows, likely watching the cop cars pull up outside.

  “But for that part to work, you’d need Dave dead, right?” Diego continued, trying to draw Hobbs’s attention back to him. “Let me guess…the Federal Reserve job. That was your idea, wasn’t it? You pushed him toward a target so big—so impossible—it was bound to backfire and get him killed. You sent the tips to the cops, saying exactly when the job was going down to make sure DPD would be there to clean up this one last loose end.”

  “Worked with Reed, didn’t it?” Hobbs said with a smile. “The only thing I didn’t plan for was you. Well, and getting trapped in here.”

  “You have to know this is over, Hobbs. There’s no getting out of here unless you give up.”

  Diego was afraid the guy would decide to go down in a blaze of glory instead of getting arrested. Which wouldn’t have been a big deal, if it wasn’t for the girl in his arms.

  But suddenly Hobbs pushed the girl away and dropped the knife, turning toward the windows of the café instead of toward Diego and Trey.

  “I give up. Take me in,” he said, putting his hands behind his back. “But you know that no jury in the world is ever going to believe I made Reed kill himself or that I had anything to do with those bank jobs. There’s no connection between me and any of the people Dave had do those jobs.”

  Trey grabbed the girl and used a big towel to wipe Hobbs’s blood off her neck, then quickly wrapped the towel around the man’s bleeding hand while Diego cuffed him.

  “But we still caught you with all the stuff from Reed’s client list,” Diego pointed out. “That should get you fifteen to twenty in Coffield. You know where that is, right? I know you’ve been there.”

  Hobbs laughed as cops flooded into the place, Hale right up front. “Oh yeah, I know where it is. Though I can’t imagine I’ll be staying there too long once I speak to the right people.”

  Diego glanced at the patrol cops who walked over to lead Hobbs outside.

  “Consider him a biohazard,” Diego called out to them. “Spit guard over his head and zero contact with his blood.”

  The officers nodded their head in understanding, but that didn’t wipe the smile off Hobbs’s face as they led him out.

  Diego watched as the officers put Hobbs in the back of a patrol car. “We can’t let that guy into the normal system. He’ll be a ghost within hours.”

  “Maybe this is something we need to call the feds about,” Trey said. “STAT seems to have the only people who can handle someone like Hobbs.”

  Yeah, this was definitely right up their alley.

  “You know, I think that’d be a good idea,” Diego said as they headed outside, pausing to take in the chaos there. He immediately caught sight of Bree standing out on the street near the SWAT SUV and he smiled. “I don’t know about you guys, but it’s been one hell of a long day, and I’m ready to think about something else besides bank robbers, blood, and mind control.”

  “You mean like finally telling Bree she’s The One for you?” Trey asked with a snort and a poke to the shoulder.

  “Maybe not that. Not yet,” he said. “But I’m definitely ready to go home with her…and my beta.”

  Chapter 18

  “Damn, I really love that guy,” Bree said, letting out a dreamy sigh as she watched Diego’s biceps flex as he served the volleyball. He, Brandon, Kevin, Knox, Hale, and Connor were playing against a team made up of his pack mates and some beta werewolves, and right now the game was tied. “I mean, I never thought I could love a man this much, but I do.”

  Beside her, Rachel laughed. They’d been sitting at one of the empty picnic tables for the past fifteen minutes, watching the game along with most of the other people at the SWAT compound there for what Bree learned were their famous weekly cookouts. Trey had put the burgers, steaks, hot dogs, and chicken on the grill—much to the delight of the Pack’s pet pooches—and the aroma was already filling the air. She might not have the keen nose of Diego and her son, but she could definitely smell all that delicious food.

  “That’s because Diego is The One for you,” Rachel said, reaching out to grab a handful of Doritos from the bowl between them.

  Bree smiled, sipping her iced tea as she considered the notion. “I never thought of it like that, but I guess he is.”

  Over in the volleyball pit, Brandon and Diego high-fived each other after her son scored a point for their team. In the two weeks since Dave had kidnapped them, Diego had been more of a dad to her son than her ex had ever been. And Brandon absolutely loved Diego like a father. She’d never seen her son so happy.

  “Diego still hasn’t told you, has he?” Rachel asked, grabbing some more chips. “I talked to him the other day about this, and he said he was going to tell you.”

  Bree picked up a Dorito and nibbled on it, glancing at her. “Told me what?”

  Rachel hesitated, as if debating whether to say any more.

  “Told me what?” Bree prompted again, a little nervous now.

  “Diego should really be filling you in on this, but since he obviously won’t, I guess I’ll have to.” Rachel sighed. “When you fall in love with a werewolf, you’re more than soul mates. Diego didn’t happen to walk into that diner when you needed him. Fate—or a higher power, I guess you could say, and maybe a little werewolf magic if such a thing exists—put him there. We have a few negotiators on the team, and any of them could have gone on that call, but Diego was the negotiator who did. You two are meant to be together. You’re the one woman who’s perfect for him and can accept him for being a werewolf. He’s the one man you’ve been looking for your whole life though you didn’t even know it.”

  Bree looked over at Diego again, watching as Brandon volleyed the ball to him and he spiked it over the net. What Rachel said was like something out of a romance book, but the connection she’d described was exactly what she’d been feeling for Diego.

  “Why didn’t Diego tell me any of this?” she asked.

  Rachel made a face. “Because he’s a guy and that means he’s stupid when it comes to this stuff. He had this idea in his head that you’d be upset if you thought there was some outside force that brought the two of you together.”

  “What?” Bree frowned. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “That’s what I said.”

  Bree finished her Dorito and reached for another, trying to puzzle out why Diego thought she’d be upset by fate putting them together. She’d already told him on their first date how lucky she and Brandon were to have met him when they both needed him.

  She was still thinking about that when Diego and Knox came over to the table with Hale and Connor, plates of food in their hands. She hadn’t realized they’d finished their game. Diego’s tall, blond pack mate had a small plate for Kat with her own cheeseburger, something the cat appreciated, if the way she jumped up on the table to sit near him was any indication.

  “Who won?” she asked as Diego set a plate with a cheeseburger, potato salad, and baked beans in front of her, then sat beside her. His plate had two of everything on it, along with gigantic helpings of sides.

  He leaned in to kiss her. “We did. That kid of yours is a damn good volleyb
all player. I think I actually managed to talk him into trying out for the team at school.”

  Bree did a double take. Her son had never participated in any extracurricular activities in school, though she’d talked herself blue in the face trying to convince him. Tears stung her eyes, and she gave a Diego a kiss as she blinked them away. “If I didn’t already love you so much, I’d fall in love with you for doing that. Thank you.”

  Diego surprised her by blushing a little, and he quickly took a bite of his cheeseburger.

  “Where is Brandon anyway?” she asked, glancing around as she picked up her own burger.

  “He and Kevin are eating with the betas and some of the other teens.”

  Bree followed the direction of Diego’s gaze to see Brandon and Kevin sitting at a nearby table, plates of food in front of them. While the food was delicious, the two boys had eyes only for the two teenage girls across from them, who were clearly as interested in Brandon and Kevin. She smiled, unable to help it.

  “Something tells me we’re going to have to deal with Brandon dating soon,” she said to Diego.

  “Not if we ground him until he’s eighteen,” Diego joked.

  Bree laughed and bit into her burger. It was juicy and perfectly cooked, the cheese on top gooey and melted over the sides. She almost pinched herself more than once the past two weeks to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. But she knew better. No dream she’d ever had could be this wonderful.

  After Diego had finished all the paperwork that came with taking Dave and Hobbs into custody—and she’d finished up her own stack of paperwork that came with recovering the stolen property—they’d met up at her apartment to have dinner with Brandon as a family. It would probably still be a while before her son wasn’t haunted by seeing Dave try to kill Diego, and he was seeing a psychologist Diego said had helped Rachel through a rough patch, but with each passing day, the memory got more and more distant.

  It helped that STAT, the federal agency Diego told her about that handled supernatural threats, took custody of Dave and Hobbs, locking them up someplace where neither of them could ever hurt anyone else. She and Brandon would never have to worry about Dave getting released and inserting himself into their lives again. Luckily, all the people he and Hobbs forced to commit crimes for them wouldn’t be going to jail. As far as the world knew, Dave and Hobbs had given their victims a drug known as delirium, and when Diego and his teammates took them down, they destroyed the drug at the same time.

  That same night, over dinner, Diego had asked if she and Brandon would like to move in with him. Bree was over the moon at the idea and was thrilled to know Brandon was excited about it, too. He’d been a little nervous he’d have to go to a different high school if they moved, but as it turned out, Diego’s house was in the same school district. They’d moved in with Diego the next day. Bree thought that living in the country would take some getting used to, but it was perfect. And while her sister would never say it out loud, she knew Beth was excited to have the apartment to herself. Now, she didn’t have to feel guilty about abandoning them to move in with her boyfriend.

  Bree was silently marveling at how Diego could have possibly finished his burger and steak and was halfway through his hot dog when Trey came over to join them, grabbing a bite to eat in between manning the grills. His cell phone rang, and he dug it out of his cargo shorts to answer it as he sat down. He mostly listened to whoever it was on the other end before saying something too softly for Bree to hear, then hanging up.

  “That was Samantha Mills,” he said, cutting into his steak.

  “Has she learned what was in Dave’s and Hobbs’s blood?” Diego asked.

  Even though STAT had moved in quickly to whisk Dave and Hobbs away to keep anyone from coming into contact with their blood, Trey had given the medical examiner the piece of material Diego had used to wipe the blood off Brandon and the bubble wrap that had Hobbs’s blood on it. While SWAT had a good relationship with STAT, they weren’t confident the feds would tell them what was in the blood that turned Dave and Hobbs into puppet masters.

  “Nothing beyond what she already told us about there being something in it she can’t identify,” Trey said.

  “Then why did she call?” Hale asked. “Or did she just want to hear your voice?”

  “Funny.” Trey scowled. “While she doesn’t know what’s in their blood, she learned Will Bremen was part of an international research team studying a Paleolithic man they found frozen in the ice in Antarctica. She thinks the man they found had this same stuff in his DNA.”

  “Kind of like we have something in ours that makes us werewolves,” Diego mused, digging into his potato salad.

  Trey nodded. “A few days after thawing this guy, there was a fire at the research station that supposedly destroyed everything, including their big find. Bremen was the only one who survived.”

  “That’s convenient,” Connor muttered. “It sucks not knowing what really happened up there.”

  “Dave told me Bremen said he got some of the guy’s DNA in his system, but he didn’t know how,” Bree offered.

  “Let’s hope Bremen was the only one on that research team who did, or who knows how many people might be out there right now with the same capability,” Diego said.

  That was a scary thought.

  On the other side of the table, Hale scooped up a forkful of baked beans. “So, you ever going to stop playing games and ask Samantha out or what?”

  Trey flushed, mumbled something about going to put some more burgers on to cook, then got up from the table and made a beeline for the grills.

  “What was that about?” Bree asked.

  Diego chuckled. “Trey has it bad for the good doctor but won’t admit it.”

  “Ah,” she said.

  As they finished eating, Diego and his pack mates placed bets on if and when Trey and Samantha Mills ever got together, and if so, which one would ask the other out first.

  On the other side of her, Rachel set her knife and fork on her empty plate. “Who’s ready for another game of volleyball?”

  When everyone collected their empty plates and tossed them in the trash except Diego, Rachel lifted a brow in his direction.

  “You guys go ahead,” he said. “I’m going to hang out with Bree.”

  Rachel gave him a knowing grin, then hurried over to catch up with her pack mates already heading for the volleyball sand pit, Kat trotting alongside Connor.

  Beside Bree, Diego leaned in close, his warm breath tickling her ear. “Brandon told me he’s staying over at Kevin’s house tonight.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said. “That means we have that big house all to ourselves, so you’ll be able to tell me about The One.”

  Diego jerked back, doing a double take. “Who told you about that?”

  “Rachel.”

  He scowled. “I should have known.”

  Bree lifted her hand to cup his scruff-covered jaw. “Did you really think I’d be upset we’re destined to be together?”

  Diego shrugged, giving her a sheepish look. “I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to mess things up.”

  “You could never mess things up,” she said, kissing him. “I’ve known I was going to fall in love with you since our first date. Knowing we’re soul mates makes what we have that much more special. And when we get home, I’m going to show you how much.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “Home. I like the sound of that.”

  Don’t miss Paige Tyler’s all-new, pulse-pounding SWAT spin-off series. Keep reading for an excerpt of the first book in STAT: Special Threat Assessment Team

  Wolf Under Fire

  Available now from Sourcebooks Casablanca

  London

  Jestina Ridley moved through the dark, dirty alley, careful to avoid the broken glass and occasional uncapped syringe, praying something useful would come out of
this little visit to the seedier side of Stockwell. But after sidestepping one especially wet and smelly patch of asphalt, she rephrased that thought, deciding this particular part of southwest London was pretty much all seedy. Definitely not the kind of place tourists flocked to after midnight.

  Good thing I’m not a tourist.

  “I’ve got nothing,” Jaime Wilkerson grumbled through the tiny radio bud wedged in her ear. “I told you this was going to be a waste of time. That guy we talked to doesn’t know squat about this kidnapping.”

  “In all fairness, he never said the kidnappers were holding the girl here,” Neal Goodwin, the other member of their Special Threat Assessment Team, pointed out, his gravelly voice rough over the radio. “He said the people who grabbed the kid used one of these abandoned buildings to stage their equipment and plan the job. He didn’t say they’d still be here.”

  Jes stifled a groan. Neal was right, but she’d hoped they’d get lucky all the same. She and the other two members of her STAT team had been in London for three days checking out a kidnapping with clear supernatural indicators, and so far, they’d come up with nothing.

  A week ago, someone had snatched fourteen-year-old Olivia Phillips out of her bedroom on the eighth floor of her apartment building. Her father was a high-level official in MI5, the British Security Service, which meant the place where they lived had better security than most, including watchdog monitors on all the elevators and doors, as well as cameras along every corridor and a handful of roving guards.