Alpha's Fire (Shifter Ops 4)

I roll out from under the covers and notice there's an outfit laid on the bed. A crop top and a pair of loose pants. Being a modern woman who prefers to dress herself, I leave the outfit and pick out one of my own from the wonderful closets. I have to admit, he did a good job shopping for me. Everything is my size and to my taste. He certainly put in the effort. I choose a slouchy plum sweater with a neckline that hangs open over one shoulder and a pair of expensive, butter-soft leggings.

I head to the bathroom and clean myself up, finding everything I could possibly need there–brush, skincare, makeup, toothpaste, and floss. I run a brush through my hair.

I'm ready with a hairpin to pick the lock but the massive bedroom door swings open to my touch. I step out into the hallway. I need to get the lay of the castle. More importantly, I need to get my hands on a phone, so I can call Rafe to come and rescue me.

I start one way down the hall then change my mind and turn back, only to gasp.

The tall, thin and painfully proper form of Buttons stands at the end of the hallway.

“Are you looking for something, ma’am?”

“No,” I sound breathless, so I square my shoulders and huff. “No,” I return with a lot more aplomb. My stomach growls so loud we both startle.

Perfect timing. “Actually, breakfast would be good.” I can blame my wanderlust on my hunger.

“Yes, of course,” he says. “I was coming to fetch you.”

“Okay.” Interesting.

“Where is Gabriel?”

“Master Dieter had some business that required his attention, but he said to tell you he will join you for lunch.”

Oh for heaven’s sake. Are we pretending I’m not a prisoner here?

I test it. “Before breakfast, can you provide me with a phone? I need to get in touch with my mother. She will be worried about me.”

Buttons has the grace to look chagrined. “I’m afraid you will have to speak to Master Dieter about that matter.”

Right. That’s what I thought.

“After breakfast, I thought I would also show you the library since the Master told me that you enjoyed it.”

Okay, I’ll play the game. “That sounds nice.”

When I glance over, the aura around his spare frame glows a welcoming pink and purple. Sunset colors. Buttons can’t be evil. People I’ve met who aren’t kind people have muddy auras with blacks and browns and grays. Sometimes there’s red around their heads signaling anger. Buttons’ aura shows a person with a big heart.

“Would you prefer to eat in your room or the dining room?”

“Not my room,'' I say quickly. I don’t think it’s irrational that I’m nervous about getting locked up in there.

“Very well.” He sweeps out a hand. “Shall we?”

He navigates the maze halls easily and leads me to an elevator.

“Is your name really Buttons?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says. “It is the curse of all the Buttons to sound like we are children’s book characters.”

I look to the side to hide a grin. Maybe if I get to know him a little better, I can ask to use his first name.

The door opens, and he waits for me to exit first. Ahead is the grand dining hall, with the long table and one lonely chair. I hesitate.

“Is something wrong, madam?”

“I want to eat here, but the dining room is so formal.”

Buttons gives a small smile and presses a button, so the elevator door closes. The colors of his aura warm even more. “I understand, and I know just the place where you might be more comfortable.”

The elevator descends another floor and opens at the foot of a plain staircase and hallway that would fit into an ordinary house. None of the red carpet and gilt-framed wall paneling of the grand rooms upstairs. This is an Upstairs/Downstairs moment unless Mr Buttons is actually a serial killer, and his cutesy name covers up his maniacal tendencies.

I take a breath to steady myself as I precede Buttons out of the elevator. Strains of opera music float up the hall. Someone is singing along in a reedy voice that’s slightly off-tune.

I give Buttons a curious glance, and he tilts his head for me to keep walking. He’s got a fond look on his face.

The end of the hall widens to a large, arched doorway. Light spills over our feet, and the scent of rising bread hits me.

“Ooh.” I glide forward into the warm space. The room has a stone floor and massive butcher block island. Even the huge stainless steel appliances don’t detract from its old-world charm. Colorful tile mosaic on the walls. The space could fit a dozen people but still feels cute and cozy. There are bouquets of flowers in colorful Polish pottery vases that match the tiles on the wall. The pattern is blue and white with some red and yellow thrown in.