“Ah,” Magnus said in his wise voice.
“Yeah,” Mortimer said dryly. “So, I think he wanted to be included in the takeout order, but you are probably almost home. Right?”
“Actually, we are still at Beth’s place,” Magnus said almost apologetically. “It took her longer to pack than expected. But we are just walking out to the car now. A quick stop for takeout and we will return.”
Moving to the desk, Scotty leaned toward the phone and barked, “Do no’ stop for takeout. Come straight back. Donny can go get takeout after ye return.”
“We are only going to stop at the drive-through on our way back, Scotty,” Magnus said in his patient voice. “It will be perfectly safe. I—”
“Come straight back,” Scotty repeated sharply.
“Just a minute,” Magnus said and must have placed the phone against his chest or covered it with his hand, because all they heard was a muffled, unintelligible conversation and some rustling.
Then Beth’s voice, clear but distant, snapped, “Give me the phone. Just give me the phone.”
Eyebrows rising, Scotty straightened and waited. He didn’t have long to wait.
“Hey!” Her voice came sharp over the speaker. “Listen here, Cullen MacDonald! You aren’t my boss, and you haven’t claimed me as your life mate, so you have no right to order me about. I can go for damned takeout if I want.”
Scotty’s eyebrows rose at her agitation. Beth had mostly been calm and even-tempered since he’d arrived in Canada. Well, other than the fight they’d had in Vancouver. But now she sounded more like the old Beth, angry and hurting. Something had obviously stirred her up, and he feared it probably had to do with him. He really should have woken her up and told her everything this morning, rather than wait until they’d both slept. Since he hadn’t said anything, Beth had no doubt concluded that nothing had changed and he was still a stupid ass unable to get over his hang-ups and claim her as he should.
“In fact,” Beth continued sharply, “I can stay here if I want, and maybe I just will since you’re being such a bossy bast—”
A loud explosion cut off her words, and then the line went dead.
Horror clutching at him, Scotty whirled toward the door. “Donny—!”
“I’m getting the SUV,” the younger man assured him as he rushed out of the room.
Scotty followed quickly.
Fourteen
Beth opened her eyes, turned her head to the right on the pillow, peered at the pale yellow wall across from her and then closed her eyes on a sigh as she recalled the last time she’d woken up. She’d been groggy and in pain then. Scotty had been holding her in his arms, his expression one of deep concern and caring, and then Rachel had appeared and said something that she hadn’t been able to understand. She’d then passed out again.
This time Beth wasn’t in pain, but she was angry. She was sick to death of pain, of the attacks and of Scotty’s shilly-shallying. First he was mean to her and then sweet, and then he was banging her like a bass drum, but she wasn’t good enough to claim? Oh, and the best part—he still thought he could boss her around like he had claimed her when he hadn’t. Not that she’d let him boss her around had he claimed her, but—
“How do ye feel?”
Opening her eyes again, Beth turned her head the other way to find Scotty seated in a chair next to the bed. There was no sign of the laughing lover, or even the concern she’d thought she’d seen earlier. He was leaning back as far as he could possibly get from her and had his distant face on . . . which annoyed the hell out of her. “I feel like I got run over by a semi.”
“No, ye don’t,” he countered, unperturbed. “Ye’re mostly healed now. Rachel refused to take the tranquilizer IV off until ye were.”
“If you knew that, then why’d you bother asking?” she muttered and then raised an eyebrow in question. “What happened?”
Beth had no idea what had landed her back in bed. The last thing she remembered was bawling out Scotty on Magnus’s phone, and then pow! A semi had hit her from behind. Or that’s how it had felt.
Running a weary hand over the short hairs growing from his now healed skull, Scotty grimaced. “While he waited for you to get off the phone, Rickart decided to use his remote to start the car. The Mustang blew up.”
“He has a remote to start the car?” Beth asked skeptically.
“Is that all ye have to say?” he asked with disbelief.
“No,” she assured him, eyes narrowing. “I also want to ask, how do I get one? It would come in handy on cold days.”
Cursing, Scotty shot to his feet and paced the length of the bed and back. “Ye could have been killed, Beth. Ye got lucky. Again! Ye were no’ supposed to leave the house. We agreed—”
“You decided,” she interrupted, suddenly calm now that he wasn’t. Smiling, she continued, “I agreed to nothing. And really, all your stomping about and bellowing is only convincing me you maybe need some anger management training or something.”
Scotty’s eyes widened even as his mouth tightened, and for a minute Beth felt sure he was going to explode, but then he dropped to sit in the chair again and merely glowered at her, so she asked, “How are Magnus and Rickart?”
“Up and about and back to their normal selves,” he answered shortly. “Ye were standing between Magnus and the car and shielded him with your body, and Rickart always was a fast healer.”
“Lucky for them,” she said mildly, and then asked, “The explosion wasn’t a malfunction of the remote or something?”
“It was a bomb,” Scotty said heavily. “It was rigged to explode when the car started. The person who rigged it obviously didn’t know about the remote. Or maybe they were hoping he wouldn’t use it. Who knows?”
“So it must have been set at the apartment building while I was packing,” Beth said thoughtfully. “I think there are security cameras in the parking lot. I know there are in the parking garage.”
“Fake,” he said succinctly. “Both in the parking lot and garage.”
“Seriously?” Beth asked with shock.
Scotty nodded. “They’re only there to scare off potential criminals, not to record them. They’re empty casings.”
“Damn. Then there’s no way to know who was behind the attack. Again,” she added grimly. Beth scowled over that briefly, and then sighed and said, “Well, if nothing else, this had told me that if I stay in Toronto, I should move to a new building. One with real cameras.”
“What do ye mean, if ye stay?” he asked sharply. “I thought ye’d moved here to be close to Drina.”
“Yes, but she spends most of her time in a little town south of here. It’s supposed to be quite nice. Small town, everyone knows everyone, people can’t follow you around and spy on you without someone taking notice,” Beth added dryly.
Scotty scowled.
“On the other hand,” she continued, “Toronto has its charms. Lots of nightclubs, even immortal clubs, and so many more people. I think I read somewhere that the Greater Toronto Area has more than six million people. That’s three million men to play with, which is important to a single girl like me,” she added sweetly.
Scotty’s face went expressionless.
“And then there’s the business I’m thinking of starting,” Beth added.
“Business?” he asked with surprise.
“Hmm.” Beth nodded. “I was thinking we should have a matchmaking service for immortals. I hear Drina’s Aunt Marguerite is very good at recognizing possible life mates for immortals. So all that really needs to be done is to set up parties in different cities for all those interested in finding their mate, have Marguerite attend and meet everyone, and then she can tell us who are potential matches for whom. It might even turn out that some of us have more than one possible life mate. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Nay, it wouldn’t,” Scotty snapped, standing up to pace again.
Beth raised her eyebrows as she watched him, and then sat up in bed. “Why not? You don’t want me. Isn’t it better if we find me someone else and find you someone more to your liking?”