by Lizzy Ford
“You read it. You’re the one who’s pregnant.”
“I already read it. We’re sisters, Zoey, and I want you to understand what I’m going through.”
Zoey picked up the book with a frown. “I suppose. You couldn’t just tell me?”
Vikki tossed the bandages beside Zoey and stalked over to Aiden. “You take care of Zoey, Doc,” she said, nudging Chrissy aside. “I’m fed up with her today.”
Zoey sighed. With complete disinterest, she forced herself to open the book, for her friend’s sake if nothing else. Sadness trickled through her as she looked at an illustration of a woman holding a child. Her best friend was going to leave her, go off with her soul-mate and their baby and be happy. While she wanted Vikki to be happy, Zoey desperately hated the idea of being alone, of never having a family or being normal enough to go out for a drink with her best friend without worrying about Cambions or who was hunting her down.
Not that it mattered. She’d be dead long before Vikki had her baby, if events continued to unfold the way they were.
“Zoey’s doing the exchange this time,” Vikki told Chrissy. “She’ll have to face Declan.”
The book slid from her fingers. Zoey’s whole body lit on fire when she thought of seeing Declan again, and her mind reeled with emotions too intense for her to sort through. The pain returned, the one with no physical source that Declan couldn’t ease with his magic.
As if on cue, the cell phone in her pocket buzzed. She stretched back with a grimace and pulled it free. Declan normally waited until seven in the morning, and it was barely five. The calls had become her alarm, if she wasn’t already up by then.
She stared at the phone. Every day, she refused to answer, expecting it to be the last time he tried. The next day, when he called again, her heart missed a beat in relief that he hadn’t given up on her.
It’s so, so stupid! She wanted … needed to hate him, or the agony and sorrow bubbling in her breast would consume her.
“Who is it?” Chrissy leaned over to see the screen.
Zoey hung up on him and tucked the phone under her rump to prevent Chrissy from grabbing it like Vikki would.
“Wait, was that …?” Chrissy frowned, meeting her gaze. “You realize he can track your whereabouts by calling you then triangulating the signal?”
Zoey stared at her, hurt afresh by the idea he only called to ping her location.
“You’re already healing,” Chrissy said. “I’m not wasting good bandages on you. We’re almost out of med supplies, Zoey.”
“I know,” Zoey said with some frustration. “I saw your report. Medical supplies, weapon maintenance supplies, rations for missions.” She reviewed the numbers in her head, the ones that told her they had enough money to make it through the end of the week.
“We have an issue with someone.” The tired voice came from Lydia, the newest core member of Team Rogue, who peeked in from the hallway. Blonde and gorgeous, she had circles under her eyes and hollow cheeks. Her face displayed the exhaustion they all felt. It was rare for a Team Rogue member to get more than a couple hours of sleep a night, let alone the amount of rations they were used to.
“That’s your job,” Vikki grunted. “You’re better at that politician shit than we are.”
“This one is uh … human,” Lydia replied.
All eyes turned to her, then to Zoey.
“That means I’m up,” Zoey said and hopped off the table. She stretched for a drawer and pulled it open to grab a spare t-shirt. “Vikki, how much do you think they’ll pay to get Aiden back?”
“Enough to get us through the next six months,” Vikki replied.
“I hope so.” Zoey snatched her lucky knife, cell and followed Lydia out of the office area.
Armed Halflings were gathered near the side entrance, whispering and peering out curiously.
“The human is here?” Zoey asked, alarmed.
“Um, yes,” Lydia replied. “Move, girls.” She waved the half-succubae crowding the doorway aside.
They parted wordlessly for Zoey. Bloodied, yet sure footed, Zoey was accustomed to the looks that bordered on fear or awe. They’d seen her fight and sustain injuries that should’ve killed her. They thought of her as immortal, which amused her.
Then pissed her off. She was only alive because of Declan, the man she wasn’t able to forget or eject from her life the way she wanted to.
Lydia slid out of the warehouse into the cool, early morning. Two of the Hunter sentries stood behind a tall man in a suit who appeared out of place among the warehouses on the ghetto side of DC.
The flood light on the corner of the warehouse bathed him in a pool of light. He was unarmed and appeared to have been thoroughly searched already, if the unbuttoned suit jacket and rumpled shirt beneath were any indication. Tall and handsome with curly, blond hair, he was in his early thirties, muscular of build with laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. His gaze was never still, and he gave off the ever ready, confident air of an ex-soldier.
Zoey studied him, taken aback by the fact he was still on his feet in spite of the sex magic of four half-succubae floating around him.
“I’m Grant Brown,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Zoey Alexander.” Zoey wiped her palm on her t-shirt to rid it of the blood, then shook. If he noticed her torn up condition, he didn’t acknowledge it.
“I’m talking to the right person then,” he said with a quick smile. It was much like him – professional, assured – as if he’d walked into a business meeting to close a deal instead of standing in the seedy side of DC with a bloodied half-succubus at an hour that no one legitimate would conduct business. “May I speak to you in private?”
Zoey lifted her chin at the two curious sentries, who were edging forward.
They left. Lydia remained, as was common for the core Team Rogue members.
“Who are you?” Zoey asked. “How did you find us?”
“Trade secret.” A mischievous gleam lit his gaze. “As for who I am … I’m the official liaison to the supernatural for the mayor and city council. I guess you could call me the bridge between you all and the local human population.”
She listened, intrigued and surprised to learn that the leaders of the city knew about the supernatural subculture operating quietly among the human populace. “I didn’t know there was a human liaison.”
“You weren’t in a position to know,” he replied. “My role is to work with the leaders of the Incubatti and Sucubatti and now, Team Rogue, to ensure that the human population as a whole remains unaware of you all and preferably safe. It takes a great deal of effort and coordination on my part to cover up some of the larger incidents we’ve seen recently between the two societies.”
“So you’re the one who told the media there was a terrorist attack on the Sucubatti college campus?” she asked.
“Not my greatest campaign,” he admitted. “But the magnitude of that incident required extreme measures to keep people scared and off the compound until all traces of the succubae were successfully removed.”
“Wow,” she murmured, impressed by the size of his operation, yet leery that he admitted to using fear to control the people of the city.
“Yeah.” He seemed uncertain how to take her response. “Anyway, here’s my card.” He held it out to her. “If you get into a mess - or cause one - that might draw the attention of the human authorities, call me immediately. I don’t ask questions, and I won’t dime you out to the others. I keep strict confidence, no matter who asks and who tells. My job is to contain situations and protect my people.”
“I get it.” She accepted his card.
“I have office hours, too. I’m accustomed to … hiding things,” he cleared his throat. “Bodies. Weapons. Technology. Whatever you need to make disappear, so the people don’t suspect. My office is located in a very discreet location. Address is on the card.”
“So you work with Olivia? Declan, too?” she asked.
“Very closely,
” he confirmed.
“And you’re still standing.” She tilted her head to the side. “How is that?”
“I’m not sure I understand the question.” For the first time since he waltzed up to her warehouse, his openness retreated.
“A human man can’t stay on his feet next to a half-succubus, let alone a full one,” Zoey said. “Did you take a drug? Something to keep the sex magic from affecting you?”
“Proprietary technology,” he replied. “Experimental, actually. I’m happy to report it’s been working for me, though the side effects aren’t yet known.”
“What is it?” she pushed.
After a brief hesitation, he pulled up one sleeve to reveal what looked like a simple band around his wrist. The unassuming technology was an inch wide and made of gray rubber.
Zoey took his arm and examined the band. It was like the one she used to track her daily activity. It plugged into a computer and her phone each night, and she downloaded all the information, her vital signs, activity and everywhere she’d been, for Chrissy to monitor in an attempt to uncover the trigger that was causing her blackouts.
The idea that this human was able to tolerate sex magic with apparent ease made her consider the other practical applications of such a device. Chrissy would need the band to take apart in order to be able to duplicate it. Guessing Grant wasn’t going to turn it over willingly, Zoey released him.
“What are your office hours?” she asked.
“Eight to eight, daily. If I’m not there, just call.”
She met his green gaze, considering. “This all seems weird.”
“As an independent group under its own command, I felt it best to approach you before I had another mess to clean up. It might be more helpful if you called me directly.” His look was steady, his body showing no signs of deception.
“We hit the big times,” Lydia said. “Kinda scary.”
“Do you deal with the Cambions, too?” Zoey asked.
“Their interests are not in alignment with those of the people,” he replied. “As a liaison, I wouldn’t turn down a meeting with them, but I haven’t sought them out.”
“Because they kill people,” she murmured.
“I have the job of helping the Incubatti cover up those murders,” he said. His jaw clenched, and a troubled look crossed his features. “I much prefer to cover up the Sucubatti killing of Cambions.”
“You know my work.”
“I do.” The smile was back, this time warmer. “I’m a fan.”
Zoey laughed, pleased to know she was making a difference when she felt like she was drowning in the minutiae of running Team Rogue. “I’m going to check out your story before I consider calling you.” She lifted the business card.
“I expected as much. My understanding is that you have a close personal connection to the new Enforcer chief and the Sucubatti IAB leader. Either one will vouch for me.”
Her smile faded at the mentions of both. “Yeah. Thanks. You know your way out?”
“I do.”
“Lyd, go with him. We get in scuffles with a local gang, and you’re totally out of place here,” Zoey said, gaze sweeping over his suit again.
“Will do,” Lydia stepped away.
“Nice to meet you, Grant Brown,” Zoey said.
“You, too, Zoey.” He turned away to follow Lydia.
Zoey watched him.
Lydia was right. They really had hit the big time, if someone who worked with members at the level of Olivia and Declan sought her out.
We just need big time money.
Chapter Four: Declan
Declan debated calling her back, the same way he did every day.
As if two minutes is long enough for her to change her mind about talking to me.
He set the cell down. She’d changed her number seven times the first week, fourteen the second, and he lost track of how many times the third. Every time she shook him, he managed to track down her new number. With Zoey, it was a matter of patience.
And apparently, attrition. She hadn’t changed her number in a week, the longest stretch of time she’d gone without doing so, a small sign of defeat.
He tapped his pen on the desk he’d inherited from his father a couple of months ago. With Ethan’s promotion to the Council and Declan’s elevation to the Enforcer Chief, he’d had enough to keep him busy since Zoey left.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t miss her or that thinking of her had gotten any easier, because it was only getting harder to stay away. He knew where she was, stalked her on nights when she had blackouts, and followed her operations. The location of Team Rogue was a tightly kept secret of the Enforcers, who were able to compare notes with one another about where their soul-mates were.
What he couldn’t explain: how Olivia was continuing to control Zoey when her people were frantically searching for her. Whatever was wrong with Zoey and causing the blackouts, it was accelerating. The moment his connection to her was severed by the blackout, he launched out of wherever he was – his bed, the gym, his office, meetings – and went to her last known location, tracking her on foot until he discovered where she’d gone. If it was impossible for him to leave for fear of someone following him, he sent a brother to find her, which was how Aiden managed to tangle with his soul-mate this night.
“Any word from Aiden?”
He rose from his chair and motioned for the speaker, his father Ethan, to enter. “No,” Declan replied. “I’m sure he’s fine. I did send Grant her location, so no one will get suspicious about us calling in all her Cambion slaughters.”
They went to the small living area off the office that was big enough to be an apartment. There was a mini-bar and kitchenette behind one divider, a living area with a couch he’d spent many nights on, a bathroom with shower, his desk and conference room area.
It was everything he’d dreamt of long ago, the position he’d been groomed for since he was ten, to become the youngest Enforcer Chief in history. His succession was bittersweet. The same day he became the Chief was the day he lost his soul-mate. The memory of that day tormented him, and he looked around the office. The satisfaction and pride he expected to feel was missing, a casualty of knowing he’d let down the person who mattered most in the world. Unaccustomed to being powerless, he’d struggled to find balance lately.
“Funny. Now that I’m on the Council, my own sons won’t tell me what they’re doing.” Ethan eyed him. His Texas twang was thick, his muscular body showing no sign of his age despite his greying temples.
Declan smiled. “It’s for your protection, Dad. Plausible deniability.”
“You are everything I expected you to be and more.” Ethan’s grin was big. He sat down on the couch while Declan took the oversized chair.
I miss windows. He had no way of knowing the time of day, for there was no daylight or nighttime in the underground compound. He was surprised to realize how much he missed being able to see the outdoors. His tired mind was taken by errant thoughts more often than he liked lately.
“How are things?” Ethan’s asked.
Declan refocused on his father. “Is this my father asking or the Councilmember?”
“Father.”
Declan debated what to say. “Everyone on the planet wants to talk to me lately.” Except for the one person I want to talk to. “I didn’t realize how busy you were. Not sure how you found time for us like you always did.”
Ethan shrugged. “You get into a routine after a while. People learn when you’re open to them and when you’re not. You have to train those around you. Though, I imagine it’s much harder for you, given the circumstances.”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Declan replied.
“I know, son.” Ethan smiled. “That’s why you’re behind my old desk.”
“You did an amazing job, Dad. Everything runs really smoothly.”
The skin around Ethan’s eyes softened with warmth. “How’re the rest of my ungrateful boys?”
“Good.”
Declan felt himself relax around his father. “Tommy checks in daily. I’ve figured out it’s what he’s not saying that’s important,” he said. “Olivia has him very tightly guarded over there.”
“The same way we do her liaison here.”
“Not tightly enough,” Declan replied acidly, thoughts going to Heidi, the woman who drugged him and had been in bed with him when Zoey discovered he was cheating. She had been a temporary liaison during the incident and was replaced by another succubus after.
There was no arguing the point that he’d been drugged, especially not to someone like Zoey. He’d given up trying to find an excuse or reasoning she’d accept. She was all heart. Even if he hadn’t done it on purpose, he’d still done it. One day, when she picked up the phone, he’d have a chance to explain things without knowing if what he said mattered to her.
“It’s part of the game, Declan, and Olivia knows how to push your buttons,” Ethan observed. “Using Heidi as the liaison was one way to keep you off-balance.”
“Was,” Declan corrected him. He no longer blamed Heidi for seducing and manipulating him into betraying Zoey. There was a time when seeing Heidi filled him with an emotion he struggled to control, but he had tamed it when he realized she was a distraction from the real danger. Olivia was the mastermind who created the plan to drive a wedge between Zoey and him, and his focus shifted to the IAB chief rather than her lackey. “I’m over her involvement now. Angrier at myself than anything else.”
Ethan nodded in understanding.
“Zoey’s getting smarter, her Hunters more effective. Her team has been relentless. They took out a hundred and fifty Cambions in one attack and raided a Sucubatti safe house last week. They walked out with the Halflings joining their fight. They’re on the offensive,” Declan said, pride trickling through him. “I take a great deal of satisfaction knowing that Olivia is going crazy about this.”
“As is the Incubatti,” Ethan said. “Neither society has ever had a challenge like this. Your kitten has drawn the attention of both Councils. I’m not certain how long it’ll be before they decide to work together.”
