Page 22 of Act of Command

Malik rubbed the back of his head. “This isn’t good.”

“No. It’s not any fucking good,” confirmed Duke with his normal finesse.

“I thought he’d return here,” said Malik. He’d known Corbin the longest. He and Brit had a strange friendship that the other men didn’t question.

Striker nodded. “Aye, I assumed as much too. No one on that campus has seen him tonight. Several women said they saw him there two weeks back. And I couldnae find any scent of him there recently, so I believe them. Interestin’ thing though, I did find out that both Mae and her roommate went missing the same night. The people I spoke to all thought the two took off on a mini-vacation. They said it’s common for the roommate, Alice something or other, to do so.”

Malik narrowed his gaze. “Either the roommate had something to do with Mae’s abduction or she was killed when Mae was taken. You know how those assholes like to cover their tracks. We found how many dead bodies associated with the last ring we broke up? They eliminate anyone and anything that stands between them and money.”

“I was in their dorm. There are pictures of them all over. I brought some with me.” He pulled one from his tactical bag and handed it to Malik. The picture had two very beautiful women, arm in arm, each holding mustaches on a stick out in the air, smiling wide. “My gut tells me the redhead dinnae betray the other. I think they’re both supernaturals, at least from what I could smell. And from what the women who lived next to them said, they were like sisters. Thick as thieves type.”

Malik stared at the picture and said nothing.

“She’s probably dead,” said Duke, ever the ray of sunshine.

“Or she was taken too.”

Duke grimaced. “Did you find anything else?”

Striker bent and pulled out a statue. He handed it to Duke.

Duke’s brows shot up at the sight of it. “Why the fuck do you have a naked statue of Corbin?”

That caught Malik’s attention. He took the statue from Duke, his head tipping to one side as he surveyed it. “Amazing how accurate it is.”

Striker blinked. “I do nae look at his junk long enough to memorize it when we’re shiftin’ or in the shower room. It’s disturbin’ to think you do. You look at mine that much? Yer a fine-lookin’ male, but I do nae swing that way.”

Malik grunted. “I meant the rest of him and his lion. Look at how detailed it all is. Remarkable. Whoever did this is very talented and has a keen eye. Was this in the girls’ dorm as well?”

“No,” said Striker, taking it from Malik. “The neighbors told me Mae is an art major. They said she spends most of her time sculptin’. I found that buildin’ and broke in to have a look around. I dinnae know if maybe Corbin caught her scent near there or nae. I found this, but no trace of the Brit.”

Duke took a deep breath. “James called in. No sign of Corbin at his home either. Not that any of us really thought he’d go there, but we had to rule it out.”

“He’s been out of touch too long,” said Malik, voicing Striker’s very same concern. “Not like him at all.”

No. It wasn’t. Striker merely stared at his teammates. He didn’t want to voice his biggest fear—that he might have lost another friend, another man he considered a brother. For several tense moments, no one said anything, each fearing the same thing.

Malik eyed Striker. “You feeling all right? You’ve had no witty remarks about hot college girls. You just spent hours on a campus full of co-eds. This is not like you. Are you dying?”

“Och, I’m nae dying.” Striker handed the statue to Duke, who took it reluctantly before Striker reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a handful of scrap papers. Each had a number scrawled on it. As Malik grabbed one and unfolded it, a number appeared. There were phone numbers on all the papers. Striker lifted his shirtsleeves, showing numbers written all over his arms in pen, some permanent. Some had explicit promises on what the women would do when he phoned. He had to admit, some of the young women were quite imaginative. Had his concern not been with Corbin, he might have taken them up on the offers. He was in need of a good fuck, but that would have to wait.

With a grin he lifted his shirt, removing it from the front of his pants, showing off even more numbers all over his torso. “They’ve signed other places too, but I do nae think you want to see those spots.”

Malik shook his head. “Sadly, this is more what I was expecting from you.”

“I got numbers for you too,” said Striker, wagging his brows. “But nae Duke since he’s mated. Ball and chains probably do nae like that.”

Duke groaned.

He held an arm towards Malik. “Take yer pick. They’re eager for an alpha male to rock their worlds. I do nae think they’ll mind if yer nae Scottish.” He frowned, thinking upon his time on the campus. “Three of them thought I was French. Do they nae teach young people anythin’ anymore? French? I do nae sound French.”

Growling, Duke mumbled something about the French. Striker didn’t ask for details. He knew Duke’s thoughts on the country. He wasn’t a fan.

Malik hid a laugh behind a cough. “Striker, you should take to the internet about that later. Point out the difference and all. The failing of an entire generation educationally.”

“Guididea,” said Striker, puffing his chest. “My advice column is a big hit.”

“You’re a fucking dumbass,” snapped Duke. No surprise there. Duke was always in a foul mood. That was part of what Striker liked about the man. And no matter what mood Duke was in, he was loyal. All the men on the team were.

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