The Protector (Complete)

Chapter 15

Greta shook Patrick and Isabella awake. "We're here," she softly informed them as they blinked their blurry eyes against the cab's overhead light. She had already paid the cab driver with her credit card. She had gotten the cab driver to promise to tell anyone who came looking for them that he had dropped them off at the airport. It had cost her a pretty penny, but the security of knowing that men weren't going to show up at the doorstep before she did was worth the money.

Patrick and Isabella stepped out of the cab. Drowsy and disoriented, the children followed Greta without protest. They were dead on their feet, and the small taste of sleep they had while in the cab lured them into a state of compliance, just for the off chance that they may be able to sleep again.

That was until the door was answered so quickly after Greta rang the doorbell.

As soon as the door was open, Patrick forgot about being tired. He forgot about what had happened so recently in the past. He had forgotten that he had given his loyalty to Greta and acquired her leadership over him. Patrick pulled Greta from the door, placing himself between the door and Greta and Isabella. Every Lycan instinct told him to protect the females. It overrode his allegiance to Greta's leadership. "No. This isn't safe."

"Patrick," Greta ordered sternly, thinking that he was having flashbacks to Kal and his clan, "we are safe here. I know these people. They will keep us safe until we can get back to the States."

"No," Patrick said again. He still stood between the door and Greta.

Greta narrowed her eyes. "This isn't up for discussion."

Torn between his duty to his leader and his duty to protecting the weaker sex, Patrick settled for shoving his hands into his pocket. He sighed. "Permission to speak freely."

"Permission not granted," Greta said, using the same words that Patrick had done, although they seemed odd on her tongue. "We are still standing in the street," she said. "This is too dangerous. Once we get inside, you may talk. Understand?"

"Margaret, you should probably let him talk."

Greta looked over Patrick's shoulder to the man who stood in the doorway. He was exactly as Greta remembered him, too good-looking for his own good. His black hair was still to his shoulders and wet from an obviously recent shower. His arms were crossed across his chest, clearly showing off the muscles that bulged under the white t-shirt. He was still taller than her, and still made her feel like a teenager with a crush.

"Hello, Cenek," Greta said, replying in the same language that he had used. "And don't call me Margaret."

Cenek flashed a brilliantly white smile. "Hear the boy out, Margaret."

Greta rolled her eyes at Cenek's disdain for the name she chose to go by. She focused on Patrick. "What is it?" She asked in English. "Why isn't it safe?"

If his hands hadn't already been in his pocket, he would have shoved them in there again. The only thing he could do to fight the awkwardness that the situation brought was to shift from one foot to another. He sighed so heavily it felt as if he had cleared his lungs from every ounce of air he had. "He's...This place..."

"What is it?" Greta asked.

"He's...one of us," Patrick finally managed to spit out. He flinched as the words came out, wondering if the sharp clans of the Lycan male standing behind him in the doorway was about to slice him down the back.

"He's from Weston Prep?" Greta asked, extremely confused. Then it dawned on her. "Oh," she said. "Oh," she said again with more enlightenment. Then she repeated herself for the third time, but this time it was spoken in anger. She stepped around Patrick and glared at Cenek. Her speech came out in rapid Czech. "You lied to me. You lied to me. All that time and you didn't..."