I opened my mouth to say something more in my defense, but nothing came out. I mean, he was right in a way. But damned if I was gonna let him think he'd won this one.
"I would've figured something out," I said, my voice coming out sheepish.
"I really hope that's the case, kiddo," he said, starting back into his stroll. "Because I'm about to cut you loose."
Connor strode ahead, and I hurried to keep up with him. As he walked, various agents greeted him with smiles, and I couldn't help but notice that some of the smiles from the women were a little…"warmer" than one might expect from mere office associates. A surprising tinge of jealousy ran through my stomach as I watched.
Get a grip, Jane. Just suck it up for another hour, and he'll be out of your hair for good. But as much as I hated to admit it, I didn't know if this was really what I wanted. Connor was an asshole, sure, but he'd done a pretty good job keeping me safe so far. And the sex wasn't too bad either.
Okay, I thought again, enough of this shit.
Before I could scold myself any further, we arrived at a large set of imposing double doors. To the right was a golden plaque that read "Captain Alex Hanes."
"Wait a minute," I said, pointing that the plaque. "That name sounds familiar."
"Captain Hanes was the one who brought down the panther human trafficking ring a year or so back. Made all the shifter papers."
Connor rapped on the door, and a deep, resonant voice called from within.
"Come in."
Connor opened the door to reveal an elegant, tastefully-appointed office, a tall, gaunt-faced man with a slicked-back shock of coal-black hair and dressed in the same dark color suit. His eyes were a dirty silver, and his mouth was thin, almost womanly, and his hands were folded on the desk in front of him.
"There you are, Connor," Captain Hanes said. "Running a little behind, as usual."
"Sorry, Captain," Connor said, plopping himself into one of the high-backed, blood-red upholstered chairs across from the desk. "Someone didn't want to get out of bed."
My face turned hot as the chairs as the Captain’s attention of fell on me. "I, um, my alarm, um—"
Captain Hanes raised his thin-fingered palm. "I've heard you've had a rough night. Don't let this little shit rattle your cage too much; he doesn't exactly know when to quit. As I'm sure you've enjoyed finding out."
Then his thin lips turned up into a slight smile. Despite his gaunt, mortician's appearance, Captain Hanes was actually doing a pretty good job putting me at ease. "Please, sit," he said, gesturing to the other open chair.
I did, sliding into the surprisingly comfortable chair.
"So, you want to put this girl into witness protection," Captain Cross said, tapping gently on the desk.
"Yep," Connor said. "Think that's the best move for all parties concerned."
"By ‘all parties concerned' I assume you mean yourself," Captain Hanes said.
"I mean all of us," he said. "This case is too important to have her just running around the city. She needs to be someplace safe until we can make our final move."
"That would make sense…" Captain Hanes said, his voice trailing off as he thoughtfully drummed his fingers against the desk. "If it were up to me."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Connor's brows flick up in confusion. "What?" he asked. "It's not?"
Captain Hanes' gaze turned to me. "Someone's parents became a little suspicious when a certain daughter didn't come home last night. And once they realize her, that is to say, your, flimsy story was just that, a story, they did a little investigating of their own."
My stomach sank at the idea of my parents spending all night trying to track me down. If there was anything that would make this whole fiasco of a situation worse, it was that.
"And?" Connor asked. "I don't think I'm gonna like where this is going."
"Let's just say that Ms. Ainsworth's parents have some friends in high places. Once I explained the situation to them as you told it to me, Connor, they made it clear in no uncertain terms that stuffing their daughter away in a witness protection program wasn't going to work for them. Not at all."
"Now, I know I'm not gonna like where this is going," Connor said, sinking down in his seat. "Did you tell them exactly what's at stake here? What kind of danger their precious little girl is in?"
I gulped.
"Of course, I did," Captain Hanes said. "But they didn't want to hear a word of it. They said that it would be…'unbecoming' to have their daughter disappear like this. They said that people might come to their own conclusions about where she went off to."
"Christ," Connor said. "Who cares if their daughter's in danger, just as long as no one thinks she got knocked up or some shit?"
"So, what did they say?" I asked, wanting to find out just how much trouble I was in.
"They said that they want you paired with whoever had already been looking after you. The fewer people know about all this, the better. Or so they say."
Oh, fuck.
"Are you kidding me?" Connor asked. "You mean that I'm gonna have to be watching this little rich brat after all?"
"Hey!" I shouted. "I'm right here!"
Now, Captain Hanes raised both hands. "Calm it down, you two," he said, taking on the tone that a teacher might use when trying to break up a pair of fighting third-graders. "I've got my problems with this whole arrangement, but that's the hand we're being dealt. You, Connor, are going to be keeping a close eye on this girl until we've gathered enough evidence to bring the Thrasher Clan down."
"So, I've gotta crack this case open while babysitting Betty Ballroom here."
Captain Hanes nodded. "I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't think you could handle it. Just keep her out of trouble, and make sure to check in with her parents sooner than later. They're…less than happy about this whole arrangement."
"Christ," Connor said. "Is anyone happy with it?"
Hanes let out a dry chuckle. "Is anyone ever happy when non-agents get involved with these sorts of things?"
Everything seemed to be crashing down on top of me. The murder, my "partnering" with Connor, the fact that my parents know everything…God, if only I'd just stayed home last night.
"I guess you're right about that," Connor said. "So, what's the plan now?"
"The plan now is that you keep an eye on this little whelp while you work the case. Now that we know Mallory's involved, we're going to need to move quickly before he gets his plan too far in motion."
"Might be too late for that," Connor said. "If he's making personal appearances to roast people alive, then that means he's getting confident."
"Or cocky," Hanes said. "Hard to tell with dragonkind."
I felt like I should've opened my mouth to say something, anything. But I was just so overwhelmed by the situation. All I wanted to do was crawl into a corner somewhere and hope that I could just hide until this whole thing blew over.
"Then I'm not gonna waste any more time," Connor said, heaving himself up from his seat. "I want to get this shit taken care of and send this little brat back to mommy and daddy.
"That's the spirit," Hanes said. "I wouldn't be trusting you with this unless I knew you could pull it off."
Then Hanes' eyes opened wide for a brief moment, as if remembering an important detail.
"Oh, and one last thing, Connor."
"Yeah?"
"The parents requested a meeting with you. Apparently, they'd like to see who's going to be taking care of their little girl."
Just fucking great.
"As if this couldn't get any better." Connor's eyes shot to me. "Let's go," he said. "No time to waste."
CHAPTER 4
CONNOR
I was boiling over with rage. Stomping down the hallways of Sapien HQ, all I wanted to do was rush home, shove this girl in a closet so I wouldn't have to worry about her, and drown my irritation with a bottle of whiskey. But I knew I'd have no such luck.
"Um, so I guess we're partners
or something," Jane said.
"'Partners' is about the last word I'd use to describe whatever the hell this little arrangement is," I said, weaving through the agents making their way in the opposite direction. "You're more like a steel ball tied to my leg that I've got to work with."
"I bet I can help somehow," Jane said. "I mean, I have gone to Academy; I'm not totally stupid."
"You mean fox finishing school?" I asked. "Sure—if I need any advice about which fork to eat my shrimp cocktail with, I'll be sure to pick that brain of yours."
Jane harrumphed as we continued on.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
I had a feeling questions like these were going to get pretty goddamn old, pretty fast.
"Shooting range," I said.
"The what?" she asked.
"You heard me," I said.
"I mean, I did hear you, but am I gonna just watch you practice or something?"
"No," I said, a little smile on my lips. "I'm gonna watch you shoot."
"No way!" she shouted. "I've never shot a gun before in my life. And guns are…they're bad. They do nothing, but cause trouble; or, at least, that's what my dad says."
"Okay," I said, "the first rule of this shit is that I don't give a good goddamn about what your dad has to say about anything. And you know what? I don't care about what your mom has to say about anything either. There's only one person whose opinion matters to you even in the slightest, and you're lookin' at him."
Jane glowered at me as we passed into the shooting range.
"Connor," Smith said, the gruff, balding bear in charge of the range, sitting in his usual seat at the glass counter, a wide array of guns and ammunition on the wall behind him.
"Smith," I said.
Smith's eyes shot to Jane, his eyebrows raised slightly.
"New partner?" he asked.
"That's right," Jane said. "We're going to be working together on a case."
She had a little, pleased smile on her face after saying this, as though just as pleased as fucking punch about being able to contribute.
"New tagalong is more like it," I said. "Long story, but Lord willing, I'll be done with her in a week or so."
Smith grunted and nodded.
"What's on the menu for today?" he asked.
"I need something small and easy to shoot for the princess here," I said. "Very easy to shoot."
"Say no more," Smith said, turning around in his seat and inspecting the guns on the wall.
He heaved out of his chair and grabbed a small, black pistol off of the wall.
"Glock 43," he said, the gun tiny in his large, ruddy hands. "Easy to handle, not much kickback, and it'll drop anyone you shoot it at."
"What about ‘anything' you shot it at?" I asked, taking the gun from him and looking it over.
"Well, if you're talking about something that'll take down a bear mid-charge or a wolf mid-pounce, then we're talking guns that aren't going to fit into her little Louis Vuitton purse."
"Fair enough," I said.
The gun was light, but still substantial-feeling. I handed it to Jane and she took it from me by pinching it with her thumb and forefinger and holding it like a dirty tissue.
"I don't like this," she said.
"Get over it," I shot back.
"Usual Desert Eagle for you?" asked Smith.
"Sure, why not?"
Smith reached under the counter and produced the massive, chrome pistol that I loved to fire off whenever I got a chance to head to the range. Desert Eagles were powerful but impractical for day-to-day usage, but that didn't mean they weren't fun as fuck to shoot.
Smith placed the big gun in my hand, and after getting us set up with ear and eye protection, along with some ammo, we were good to go. As we made our way back to the range, gunfire popping all around us, I noticed that Jane was still holding her gun in the same, half-disgusted way.
"You're gonna need to get used to that," I said placing our guns and gear on the shelf once we arrived at our range. "That thing might save your life."
She looked up at me like she wasn't sure what to do. Between the giant noise suppressing headphones and the gun in her hand, she looked about as out of her element as anyone I'd ever seen.
"Here," I said, taking the gun from her hand and placing it back properly, wrapping her fingers around the grip. "That's the safety—switch it off when you're ready to fire. And that's the trigger—that makes it go ‘boom.' Only point at something when you're ready to kill it. And only then."
She didn't say a word, instead looking like some college kid who'd just sat down for a test that they hadn't studied for.
"Watch me," I said, taking the gun.
I loaded the thing, showing her how to do it. Then, when I was ready, I sent the paper target—this one of a fearsome looking wolf in mid-charge—down the range. I raised the gun, squared my shoulders, and exhaled. After I'd lined the gun up, I fired off a few rounds. Once the gun was empty, I brought the target back. Nearly every shot hit the wolf right in its snarling face. I couldn't help but feel a little pride.
"Now, it's your turn," I said, flicking the safety back on and handing the gun to Jane.
"Do I have to?" she asked.
"If I tell you to do something, then yes, you have to," I said, trying to keep my patience in check.
She sighed in an especially bratty way as she looked at the gun in her hands. Then, she took her place at the range and held it up. Right away I shook my head—nearly everything about her form was off. But I figured I'd let her learn the hard way. Pounding the big orange button, I sent the target back about thirty feet.
"Now, take the safety off," I said.
She did. Then, Jane raised the gun, took aim, and fired a round, the gun kicking back and a girlish shriek shooting from her mouth.
"Do it again," I said.
She shot another round, then another, shrieking each time. Once she'd shot five rounds in total, I brought the paper back. Sure enough, every shot but one went wide. And the one that actually hit went through the upper corner of the paper.
"There," she said, pointing to the single round. "I got one there!"
"If this were a real wolf, it'd be on top of you taking a big bite out of that pretty face of yours."
Jane scrunched up her face and set the gun down in front of her. I could tell she was pretty frustrated, and that was the point.
"Okay," I said. "Are you ready for me to show you the right way now?"
"Fine," she said. "But I still don't even want to bother having to learn to shoot to begin with."
"Remember what I said about whether or not you have a choice about any of this? God knows I don't."
I picked the gun back up and placed it in her hands.
"Now," I said. "Stand still…"
I took position behind her, wrapping my arms around hers and holding her hands in mine. And as I did, her hair brushed up against my face, the smell of it rushing into my nose. It was so fucking intense that I felt like I'd just taken a hit of some kind of drug. And judging by the way Jane's body shuddered, I could tell that she was going through something pretty similar.
Bear and foxes… I thought, trying to compose myself.
"First thing you gotta learn is how to hold the damn thing. Here…"
I walked her through the basics of how to hold a gun, how to stand, how to aim. And with her body pressed against mine, it wasn't the easiest thing in the world to keep my head straight.
"And when you shoot, make sure you take a deep breath, then let all the air out before you pull the trigger."
"Why?"
"Because breathing during the shot fucks with your aim. Do it."
She complied, taking a slow draw of air, her full lungs causing her body to press against mine in a way that almost made me go fucking crazy right then and there. Then, she let the air flow out of her.
"Now, shoot."
She pulled the trigger, the shot cracking through the air.
"Ho
ld the gun just tight enough to keep a firm grip, but not so tight that you're squeezing the fuckin' life out of it. Do it again."
Another slow breath, another press of her body against mine. She fired another shot, the paper target shaking with the impact of the bullet.
"There!" she said, turning and facing me. "I did it!"
She was still wrapped in my arms, and now her face was only inches from mine. I looked down into those grass-green eyes of hers, Jane's mouth in a pleased smile. We stayed like this for a few long seconds, the tension building and building.
"Good," I said, putting my arms back to my sides and stepping away.
It took every bit of restraint I had not to bend her over and fuck the hell out of her right there in the shooting range. But I managed to control the animal inside, the beast that wanted nothing more than to ravage this sexy little fox in the most primal way imaginable.
I stepped back, giving myself the space I needed to get my damn head right.
"Shoot just like that," I said, still feeling like I was in a daze.
I took a seat in the folding chair in the booth, watching Jane fire shot after shot. I watched her technique carefully, though my eyes kept drifting down to that tight little ass of hers. Once she was dry, I showed her how to reload the gun.
"That's good," I said once I felt like I had control of myself again.
Standing back up, I hit the orange button and brought the target back.
"Look!" she said, pointing to a few shots that had managed to hit the wolf on the target. "I did it!"
"You shot ten rounds and two of them managed to connect with the wolf," I said, holding the paper in my hands and looking it over. "I'd say you've been promoted from piss poor to shitty."
She stomped her foot and set the gun down on the shelf.
"Come on," she said. "That's not bad for someone who's never shot one of these stupid things before."
"One of those ‘stupid things' might just be the thing that saves your life. Guns aren't just for show, you know."
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