“Okay, I’ve told you all about my gifts,” Karissa said, coming into the living room to sit on the arm of the nearby couch. “Maybe now you can tell me about these STAT people and how they might be able to help me figure out who this hitman is.”

“No chance you might be able to just call up Nicos and get him to help you?” Hale asked, pretty sure he already knew the answer.

“He would never help me with something like this,” Karissa said with a shake of her head. “Not when this is clearly shaping up to be a situation of me against whoever the lone hitman might be. Nicos would probably see any assistance on his part as providing an unfair advantage.”

Hale winced. He hated to think about how many times her request for help had been ignored for her to become this cynical. “I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be doing this, but I’m going to do it anyway. STAT stands for Special Threat Assessment Team. They’re a covert federal organization that specializes in dealing with supernaturals that are beyond the capabilities of other forms of law enforcement. As you can imagine, they like their secrets, so keep everything I tell you to yourself, okay?”

When Karissa nodded, Hale then explained how the Dallas SWAT team had stumbled across the aforementioned agency, discovering in the process that it was difficult telling the story of the Pack getting in a fight with vampires in Los Angeles without revealing that they were all werewolves. From there he told her about all the other times STAT had helped them out with supernatural situations.

“Wait a minute,” Karissa said, holding up a hand. “Back up a bit. Are you telling me that vampires exist? That can’t be possible.”

“Says the woman who carries a sword given to her by an ancient Greek goddess.” He chuckled. “Trust me, the world is far stranger than even you know.”

Karissa seemed to consider that for a moment before giving him a shrug. “Okay. So how do I get this secret government agency to help me?”

“You don’t—I do.”

Hale had no doubt that he could get Gage to act as a go between with STAT, especially once his boss learned there was a supernatural hitman in Dallas in addition to Tamm and his crew.

“Are there any other details you can give me on this hitman?” he asked. “Anything at all that might give STAT a lead they can use to ID this guy?”

They went over the entire fight between Karissa and the hitman again, both of them focusing on any little thing STAT might be able to use. It was when they were talking about how the guy had used those swords of his that she let slip a detail Hale was sure she’d purposely left out before.

“What do you mean he cut you?” Hale said, surprised at the surge of alarm that reared up inside him at the mere thought of Karissa being hurt.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” she insisted, her voice casual even as her hand came up to rest on her stomach in a move that was probably subconscious. “Just a little scrape.”

“Can I see?” he said, immediately cringing at the creepy way that sounded. “I mean, if that’s cool with you. I just want to make sure you’re okay and that the wound isn’t…um…infected.”

He had to stop talking—like right now. Because his excuses were getting lamer by the second and he knew it. But at that moment, he was about thirty seconds away from a complete and total meltdown as his inner wolf fought to slip out, demanding to know how badly Karissa had been hurt.

He fully expected her to tell him to go to hell. He wouldn’t have blamed her a bit if she did. So he was stunned when she slowly lifted the bottom of her T-shirt just enough for him to see from her midriff to the top of her pajama bottoms.

His first thought was that swinging a sword must be really good for the core because his ex had some nicely defined abs. As distracting as the thought was, it faded quickly when he saw the cut incised horizontally across her stomach above her belly button.

Before he realized what he was doing, Hale reached out to gently trace along the cut with his finger. All he could do was stare, his mind filled with nothing but white noise. Feeling the warmth of her skin under his touch, he found himself reeling at the thought that someone had hurt her. That she could have died.

Part of him realized that the wound wasn’t as bad as he’d first feared. In fact, now that he was looking closer, he saw that the cut had closed up already. Not healed as much as a werewolf’s would have been at this point but much further along than any nonsupernatural would have been. Still, seeing the little dots of dried blood along it rattled the hell out of him, the coppery scent of it overwhelming.

It hit him then that he could smell her blood. It probably wouldn’t have been that big of a deal for any other werewolf, but given that his nose hadn’t worked well enough to pick up any scent in over ten years, this was a rather momentous occasion. Then something else filtered through his fuzzy head, and he realized he’d been smelling the blood since meeting Karissa in the hallway. That must have been why his attention had been drawn to her stomach over and over while they’d talked. On some level, he must have been aware she was hurt.

More evidence that the two of them were soul mates.

As if he needed any.

But how the hell was he supposed to bring the subject up to Karissa when she obviously had no interest in hearing it?

I know you dumped me ten years ago and that you clearly feel nothing for me and can’t wait to finish this job so you can get the hell out of Dallas, but would you reconsider all that since we’re soul mates now?

Hale knew that wasn’t feasible, at least not until he and Karissa were able to spend enough time together for him to figure out if they had any shot at all. Fortunately, now that he’d agreed to help her with getting information on this hitman, maybe he’d have that time. He hoped.

He was still carefully tracing a finger along Karissa’s bare stomach, a part of him surprised that she didn’t seem to mind, when the connecting door to the adjoining suite suddenly opened and a young man stepped into the room. The guy immediately froze when he caught sight of them.

Karissa shoved her shirt down at the same moment Hale jerked his hand back, feeling like he’d just been caught making out in the school hallway by the principal. If the principal looked like a kid who wouldn’t grow facial hair for another five years.

“Um…Deven,” Karissa said, quickly jumping up. “You’re here. Great. This is Hale Delaney. He was checking my injury.”

The young man, who looked kind of familiar now that Hale had heard his name, stepped forward to shake hands. “Checking your injury, huh? I never heard it called that, but you do you.”

Karissa smacked her brother on the arm. “Very funny. I’m being serious. Hale and I were talking about him using some of his law enforcement resources to track down info on the hitman, but when I mentioned the fight I had earlier this evening, he was worried about my wound and concerned that I might…get an infection.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Deven murmured with a lifted brow that all but confirmed he wasn’t buying anything his sister was trying to sell. He looked at Hale. “Good to hear you’re planning to help out. Karissa said something about you being a SWAT cop. She also went to great lengths to tell me how fast you could run while wearing all that heavy tactical gear. My sister seemed quite impressed, though I’m sure she’s already told you that.”

Now it was Hale’s turn to lift a brow, cocking his head to look in Karissa’s direction even as a stupid warm sensation crept up through his chest. “Yes, I’m part of the Dallas SWAT team, but no, your sister never got around to mentioning her admiration for my physical prowess. It must have slipped her mind.”