Code Black (Paranormal Crimes Division Book 1)
Page 1
CODE BLACK
By
Tina Moss
Copyright © 2015 Tina Moss
Edited by Yelena Casale
Cover Design by Tina Moss.
All stock photos licensed appropriately.
Published in the United States by City Owl Press.
www.cityowlpress.com
For information on subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher at info@cityowlpress.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior consent and permission of the publisher.
For my dear friend, Yelena.
Thank you for your unconditional support.
You make this all possible.
Praise for Tina Moss
“Moss’ CODE BLACK, a near-future tale of paranormal humans living under the repressive Northern American United Government, chugs steadily along with occasional fireworks… A cast of vampires, psychics, and shape-shifters delivers…witty quips that round out this solid example of the genre.” - Publishers Weekly
“The introduction to the Paranormal Crimes Division (PCD) promises to be entertaining and tense. Humor is never far from the surface, which comes in handy because the world they patrol is treacherous and fear-inducing.” - RT Book Reviews
“The sexual tension between two supernatural special agents, one a feisty shape-shifter, the other an aristocratic vampire, spices up the excellent second Paranormal Crimes Division romance, RED ALERT. A combination of flirtatious banter, sizzling chemistry, and edge-of-your-seat storytelling make this a sure bet.” - Publishers Weekly Starred Review
“Moss is one of those authors who stay with you long after the book is over. A total must read.” - Examiner’s Women in Horror Author, Danielle DeVor
“Tina manipulates words and phrases the way an artist manipulates a brush, creating the background with shadows and dimension while weaving the foreground into spicy and emotive splashes of color & texture, and just as in a stunning painting, I get equally lost in Tina's world.” - Author and Artist, Nikola Vukoja
“A fascinating new concept to urban-fantasy. Definitely worth a read!” - Emmeline, The Book Herald
“A different take on the supernatural. I was entranced by this storyline.” - Loves 2 Read
“A keeper with a great and unexpected ending you don't see coming. An enjoyable reading and good start for the series.” - Top 500 Book Reviews, Douglas C. Meeks
“A TOUCH OF DARKNESS rockets you along a pulse-pounding story and sucks you into the characters. You'll want to cheer for Cassie's feisty spirit and loyalty and you'll come to love Gabe and all his wonderful flaws.” - Award Winning Fantasy Author, Heather McCorkle
“A thrilling and well-crafted debut novel…a full throttle ride, complete with several twists and turns.” - The Book Chick
“This new paranormal urban fantasy series is a mesmerizing and intriguing read. The Key Series is a fascinating world of angels, fallen angels and demons with some unique elements and surprising twists.” - Evampire
“An imaginative twist on the concept of angels and demons, complete with the requisite conflicts between duty and love, as well as the issues of loyalty and betrayal.” - Night Owl Reviews
Contents
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Sneak Peek of Red Alert
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Acknowledgments
About the Author
About the Publisher
Additional Titles
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Find book two, RED ALERT, featuring Jame and Drake available now, and discover more from Tina Moss at www.tinamoss.com
Special Agent Jame Bradshaw has five dead senators on her hands...and a pack of trouble between her claws.
As the newest team leader for the Paranormal Crimes Division, this feisty shifter is smack in the middle of a political hornet’s nest waiting to implode. With the mass murder at the Capitol building and the city under a red alert, paranoia spreads like wildfire. She must solve this mystery before the higher-ups call for her head.
When former vampire vigilante and newly minted PCD agent, Drake, shows up to the scene, the case heats up and so does the tension.
Fighting off the charms of a lethal hundred-and-fifty-year-old vamp may prove Jame’s final undoing...in the most delicious ways. But if this alpha shifter doesn’t learn to let down her defenses and channel the passion into a true partnership, she’ll risk losing more than her badge.
BUY NOW!
Chapter One
Brown Residence, Buckhorn, Arizona
Sera stared at her fingernails, picking at the chipped red paint and wondering how in the hell to interview a murder victim’s sister. “How do I get myself into these things?” She flicked the cherry apple flecks at the dashboard and leaned her skull against the headrest. Remembering exactly how she ended up in this suburban neighborhood, procrastinating in the morning sun shifted her thoughts to seven days earlier. And a conversation she couldn’t forget.
“Don’t you think people deserve the truth?” That line had gotten her into this mess in the first place. One week ago, she’d won a huge bet with her favorite poker buddy, who also happened to be the county medical examiner. When he couldn’t cover his bet, he gave her a prize of equal value—the unlisted office number of Special Agent Talon Rede, team leader for the Paranormal Crimes Division in the district. She’d been after an inside connection to the PCD for months. He knew the weakness and played his hand well. Information proved the ultimate jackpot, far more than any dollar amount. The journalistic philosophy accounted for her not big enough to be called a studio apartment and the meager double digits in her savings. The phone number almost made up for her severe lack of closet space. Her fingers couldn’t whip over the touchscreen fast enough.
“Agent Rede, you can’t possibly believe releasing these ridiculous tidbits of information is fair to the public.” The accusation had flown a few seconds past
the initial greeting of, “Hello. I’m Sera Benenati. A reporter. Don’t hang up.” The collar of her button down blouse irritated her neck. When he’d stayed on the line, she dug in. “The more the people know about these crimes, the safer they’ll be.”
His silence dragged on, and then, he growled. “Well now, this should be interesting.”
She’d been instantly intrigued. His strong velvety voice did something to her insides. Donning her most professional tone like armor, she said, “What’s interesting is the way the PCD dodges every reporter’s questions about the Rodriguez case.”
“Sweetheart, you can ask me anything you like.” His pause spoke louder than his words. “But if I think for a second my answer will put more people, the public, the same citizens this office protects in danger, you’re damn right the only phrase you’ll hear is ‘no comment.’ ”
“Wow.” She hadn’t meant to let it slip, but his honesty and boldness impressed the hell out of her. “You always this straight forward?”
“What you see is what you get.”
“But I only hear you, Agent Rede.” She could almost envision his grin over the line, picturing it in her mind and imagining the man behind the voice.
“For now, Ms. Benenati. But I doubt you give up easily.” Another heavy pause. “Am I wrong?”
“Not on your life.”
They’d traded barbs for almost an hour after, each striking and dodging in turn. She never did get more from him on the case, but it ended up her poker pal had the scoop. Another game, three days later, and she had the details she needed. Only now, she couldn’t get the special agent out of her head.
“Stupid. You never even met the guy!” Yet it didn’t seem to matter. Her cheeks heated whenever she thought about their one phone call—a conversation she replayed over in her head far too many times. It’d been forever since a man had captured her attention so much. Hell, had any man ever fascinated her like Agent Rede? But when the conversation had ended, he didn’t ask for her number and she hadn’t called him back. Better to keep the fantasy than be disappointed with reality.
Sera sighed and flipped down the visor to check her makeup. The foundation she’d spent way too much on flaked in the heat and the simple lipstick she’d chosen to look “professional” clashed with her hair. Worse, the nail polish she’d been picking at as she killed time in the car made her fingers look like bloody stumps.
“Perfect.”
Resigned, she flicked off the dried red polish and hopped down from her Jeep 4x4. With the victim’s file clutched to her chest, she hurried to the house. Her heels clicked over the endless cement driveway. She’d read the medical examiner’s report—the latest aforementioned poker prize—six times. Details of the crime remained hidden away from the press, but with this, she’d been able to uncover the crucial facts. She flipped through her notes for the seventh time as she walked.
Victims, Juan and Margaret Rodriquez, aged thirty-two and twenty-nine respectively and registered as humans, were found dead in their home. Bite marks and bruises on the victims’ arms and legs show signs of a struggle, but no foreign DNA fibers could be identified. Reports of similar blood and tissue loss from attacks by unregistered SUBs are on file, but no suspect type can be recorded without further analysis. See appendix on supernatural or undead beings for possibilities.
Her hands started to sweat. “This is what you wanted, remember?” She tucked the file under her arm and wiped her palms on the hem of her pencil skirt. “A chance to prove yourself, to be a real reporter. No more gossip mags or d-bag bosses.”
The little voice in the back of her mind started screaming, the bastard echoing her fears. You should be nervous, pet. After all “Man gives Birth to Two-Headed Alien” and “Tractor Comes to Life Killing Farmer” don’t exactly put you up for a Pulitzer. Rubbing her temple, she mouthed a silent, “Shut up.” Over the last eight years, she’d fought to tune out the annoying monster, the secret she’d had to keep from everyone. It was part of—okay, maybe more than part of—the reason she hadn’t contacted the special agent again. How could she have a relationship with anyone when she had this thing in her head?
And that was the big problem—it was literally all in her head. Her mind to be exact. The neurons in her brain fired on two different planes of thought. One was hers and the other belonged to another, an entity. Sera could manage to get his side quiet most of the time, but every now and again, he surfaced at just the right—or rather wrong—moment.
“Guy, if you start with me,” she said, addressing her inner tormenter, “I swear I’ll zone out on sleeping pills for the next three days.”
Touchy. Whatsamatta? Big bad reporter got a bug up her—
“Stop it!” At sixteen, she’d dubbed the voice, Guy, and thought he might be some type of supernatural creature or a part of her own mixed heritage. Her human father refused to discuss Sera’s otherworldly side, and her mother, who as an unregistered supernatural had no legal protection or paper trail, died giving birth to Sera. Thus, the sole keys to unlocking the mystery of her inhuman DNA remained buried. Whether Guy was some type of freak or just a part of her damaged psyche didn’t make much difference in the end. He still remained a major pain in the ass.
“Guy, can it. I don’t need your shit now.” She stalked down the football field masquerading as a driveway to the front door, blocking out all other thoughts than the task at hand. A tentative knock on the brass handle had her fiddling with her bun and smoothing the wrinkles from her tan suit jacket. As she waited, she shifted her feet, the high heels pinching her toes something fierce.
“Ms. Brown?” she said, knocking again. “Ms. Brown, I’m from the Arizona Hornet. I’m here for an interview.” Sera could hear shuffling inside, but the front door remained closed. She leaned to the right, trying to catch a glimpse through the window. An overgrown myrtle bush blocked her view and tickled her nose with its allspice scent. The sun reflected off the glass in harsh streaks. She shielded her eyes with the back of her hand and tried to keep the desperation from her voice. “Please, I just want to ask some questions.”
More shuffling preceded a scraping sound as the door opened mere inches. “Another reporter, huh. What’d you want now?” A pair of red-ringed eyes narrowed on Sera.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Ma’am.” Grabbing a pen in one hand, she tightened her grip on her file with the other. She flipped through her notepad and looked down at the list of questions. Nerves poked at her concentration. The letters blurred together like a Rorschach inkblot. She chewed the pen cap. The urge to rip the paper into tiny shreds made it impossible to focus. “This won’t take long. I have a few questions about your sister’s murd...about what happened to your sister.”
“I already told the police everything I know.” She clipped each word as if struggling to get them out through her clenched jaw.
Ms. Brown began to close those precious inches. Cursing her stupidity at wearing heels, Sera wedged her foot in the thin space.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The dark circles under Ms. Brown’s eyes lessened as her gaze widened. “How dare you!”
“You don’t understand. I think I can help you.”
“Help me? You think you can help me?” Ms. Brown shook her head and muttered, “Crazy bitch. The only way you can help me is if you bring my sister back from the dead.”
The door pulled open wide and an umbrella’s metal tip poked Sera in the chest. She stumbled backward. “Ms. Brown, I want to find the killers.”
“Get off my property! Or you’ll find a killer right here.” She slammed the door closed. The chain rattled as the lock slid into place.
That went well. Guy’s taunts returned full force. Priceless, really. I especially enjoyed the part where you jammed your foot in the door. A nauseating laugh rolled through Sera’s mind. Nice touch.
Sera rubbed her side. Ms. Brown’s damn umbrella had landed right between two ribs. She’d have nothing but bruises to show for her first real assignment
. “Not nothing,” she said, walking back to her car. “You have the medical examiner’s report. Coco might have a connection at the police station. You’re not out yet.”
Coco? You going to a coffee barista for information? Ha! Like the Wild West, but a cafe instead of the saloon. Oh pet, this gets better and better. Why not just ask your special agent friend? Afraid? Something to hide?
“Enough, you little maggot.” The retort was enough to quiet him, but it couldn’t stop the question from buzzing through her brain. Why the hell didn’t she just call Agent Rede? Deep down she knew why—secrets. But she didn’t want to face that baggage now. Instead, she pushed the thoughts of the intriguing special agent very firmly from her mind.
Sera jumped into her truck’s front seat, slammed the door and revved the engine. The black Jeep was hardly a reasonable vehicle for Sera’s downtown Phoenix life, but as she never knew where a lead would well, lead, she liked the added protection of four-wheel drive. It cost her a pretty penny, but when she hopped into the leather driver’s seat and cranked up the satellite radio, she didn’t regret a dollar spent on the creature comforts.