Sentinel: Bravo Bear: (A BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance) (The Agency Book 1)

by Amelia Jade

  Madison shook her head. “That serum must be worth a fortune. No wonder they’re well-funded and have unlimited manpower. The government would be crazy not to ensure their success!”

  Connor felt his eyebrows raise. She was quick on the uptake. It took most people several more minutes to contemplate that aspect of the Agency. He reminded himself not to underestimate her smarts in the future.

  “We’re fairly positive they aren’t government funded,” he told her. “At least not directly. The government surely buys the serum, which keeps them afloat, but I don’t think they directly receive funding.”

  She was nodding along with him. “Of course, that makes sense. This way they can sell to all the governments, not just one.”

  He looked at her sharply.

  “More profit that way,” she said with a shrug.

  “Yes, that’s it exactly,” he said, raising his opinion of her even more.

  “Don’t look at me like that.”

  He blinked. “Like what?”

  “Like you didn’t expect me to be able to see the ramifications of something like this. I’m not six,” she finished.

  Connor dipped his head in apology. “Sorry, it’s just that most people take a few minutes longer to truly understand the possibilities that this serum poses.”

  “So why my father?”

  He worked his jaw for a moment. “You may not be aware of this—and I may get in trouble for telling you—but your dad is actually quite active in his position, advocating for equal rights for shifters.”

  Madison frowned. “But you have equal rights,” she said slowly, trying to figure out what she wasn’t understanding.

  “On paper, perhaps,” he agreed. “Not in reality. It’s why most shifters don’t admit to being one, unless they must. There is plenty of shifter bias, in the workplace, on the streets. Humans know they can get away with treating us like crap, because if we hurt them, it’s basically a death sentence. So they abuse us, hit us, all kinds of things. The police don’t care either,” he said bitterly. “They’re afraid of us, just like everyone else is.”

  Madison sat back. He watched as she pushed her hair back out of her face, the still-damp locks sticking to the sides of her face, framing those beautiful brown eyes once more.

  Stop it, he commanded. She’s looking to you for protection right now. Do not take advantage of that. Yes, she’s beautiful, but you can’t let her beauty distract you from the job at hand.

  He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on present events, not daydreams destined never to come true.

  “So, why me then? Why do they care about me?”

  Connor paused. Did he tell her the truth? Or did he lie to put her at ease?

  “The truth,” Madison said firmly, those big brown orbs focused intently on him, as if she could read his mind.

  He relented with a sigh. “We aren’t sure if the Agency knows this yet or not. But the serum will only take on a certain type of person.”

  Madison sat upright at that. Her eyes flicked back and forth as she thought furiously.

  “Half-bloods,” she said at last. “Like me. Born to a shifter parent, but not a shifter.”

  Connor nodded slowly, confirming her suspicion.

  “That’s what that man was you fought tonight. The one who I—” She broke off sharply, and he could see her memories coming back. “I hit that man,” she whispered softly. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked up at him. “He was bleeding so badly. Do you think he…you know?”

  He could see the desperation in her eyes, searching for some sort of penance. Connor thought about lying, then decided to tell the truth this time as well. She needed to hear it.

  “I doubt your hit killed him,” he said. “It probably knocked him unconscious, but if it did kill him, so what?” he asked, his voice harsh and as unyielding as steel. “He chose to join an organization that hunts down innocents, takes their blood, and burns the body. That is what they would have done to me, if they caught me. They would have done it to your father, if they caught him. These men are bad people,” he said firmly. “I don’t want you to be involved in it, and it is my desperate hope that we will get you to safety tomorrow. Your biggest issue will be starting a new life, not worrying about whether you killed someone.”

  Whether it was his words, or the passion with which he spoke them, they seemed to affect her a little.

  “Safety?” she asked with a soft sniffle, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Where is it safe from them? From the Agency?”

  “My home,” he told her. “Have you ever heard of Genesis Valley?”

  Madison nodded. “Sure, any child of a shifter has. Supposed to be a haven for bad shifters and those rejected by society…” She trailed off as she realized what she was saying. “Oh Connor!” she said apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

  He smiled. “Yes, you did,” he told her, holding up a hand to forestall her protests. “It’s okay.”

  “It is?” she asked nervously.

  “Of course. After all, you’re not wrong.”

  “I’m not?” She seemed completely bewildered now.

  “No, you just have incomplete information.”

  “I do?”

  He smiled at their back and forth.

  “Genesis Valley takes those of us who come from less, shall we say, happy, walks of life, and helps rehabilitate us.” He shrugged. “Knowing that once we’re there it’s our last chance for a real life is a big help. But the people there are wonderful. There are plenty of shifters who aren’t bad people—but just simply don’t like the world at large—that go to live there. That’s not to say there aren’t any bad apples,” he admitted. “But they tend not to last very long at all.”

  Connor watched the way she devoured that information, thinking it over, and changing her perception.

  “So how come you’re here then, if Genesis Valley is home?” she asked.

  “That,” he said, “is a bit of a longer story. The head of our organization was put in touch with the men back home who own the valley, so to speak, and they formed a partnership. The Shifter Underground, as we call ourselves if we feel the need to be fancy, needed some muscle, some men with training to fight the Extremis Agents.”

  “Wait, the what?” she asked, throwing up a hand to stop him.

  “The serum is called the Extremis Serum. The men that the Agency have found and been able to not only convert to their cause, but also successfully inject with the serum, are called Extremis Agents. Like the one from tonight.”

  “Do they have many of those?”

  Connor smiled. “Thankfully, no. They had more, but one of my guys dealt with many of him by himself. Since he killed a full team of them, they’ve been rather reluctant to commit them. I’m surprised there was one there today,” he admitted to her, frowning over that fact.

  “By himself? He must be a very powerful shifter then,” Madison said.

  Connor furrowed his brows at the reference to him struggling with the Extremis Agent earlier. “He is, of that there is no doubt. Not to pump myself up, but the rest of the team and I are all highly trained and skilled. No,” he said, “there was something different about the shifter tonight. He was fast, even for an Extremis Agent, and much stronger than the ones I’ve fought before. He was something different.”

  “Could they have modified the serum?” Madison suggested.

  His eyes narrowed. “That is a very good question. It’s possible. We don’t know though.”

  “What do you know about the Agency? They seem rather mysterious.”

  Connor laughed. “Yes, and oddly enough, they seem to like it that way. We’ve had absolutely zero luck infiltrating them, and we’ve lost three people trying. My friend, Ajax, who was the first of us from Genesis Valley to stumble upon what was going on in King City, managed to break into their local command center here back when they were first setting it up. But even he couldn’t come up with much beyond a name of their
leader.”

  “What’s his name?” she asked eagerly.

  He grunted. “Well, more of an initial,” he admitted sheepishly. “He goes by J. That’s all we know.

  “That’s…not much.”

  “Tell me about it,” he grumped. “It’s like we’re fighting a never-ending battle against them. Ever since Ajax stirred up the hornet’s nest here, they’ve been moving into the city in force. It’s like a warzone out there.”

  Across from him, Madison yawned, her eyes fluttering with a mixture of embarrassment and exhaustion.

  He brushed aside her apologies. “I know you don’t mean to seem disinterested,” he said gently, picking her up and carrying her over to the couch. “But you’re exhausted. Let’s get some sleep, and we’ll get you out of the city tomorrow.”

  I hope.

  “What about the cot?” she asked, pointing to the folded metal apparatus in the corner.

  “This is much comfier, trust me,” he said, rising to fetch a blanket and pillow for her.

  “Thank you,” she said, reaching to take them from him.

  Their hands brushed. Electricity shot through his system. Connor had to focus hard to prevent his eyes from widening in surprise at his body’s reaction to her touch.

  “Night,” Madison said, seemingly impervious to whatever it was he had just felt.

  “Night,” he said, rising from his crouch.

  “Where will you sleep?” she asked blurrily, already half asleep.

  “I’ll take the floor,” he said.

  Soft, even breaths greeted him in reply as she fell asleep instantly.

  I’ll be right here. Between you and the door, he promised silently.

  ***

  Connor stirred awake, blinking sleep from his eyes as he rose with careful silence, unwilling to wake Madison.

  He glanced over at where she slept on the bed, her chest moving up and down with slow, rhythmic regularity. She looked so very peaceful, unlike the slightly frazzled and overwhelmed woman he had seen the night before.

  No, that wasn’t fair at all. Despite the suddenness of everything that had overtaken her, Madison had managed to keep her composure for much of the night, not losing control until they were safe and secure. She was smart, far more intelligent than he had guessed at first glance. That intelligence had allowed her to remain mostly composed for the trip, barring a few moments.

  She had even taken out one of the Agents who had come up behind him, clobbering him upside the head with a stone. Connor had taken a quick look at the man, and she had walloped him. He doubted the man would ever be quite the same again after a hit like that.

  Madison was someone to be taken seriously.

  His bear roared its agreement, shaking off its nightly slumber to chime in on the subject of Madison. The feral animal made it very clear what it wanted, but Connor pushed it to the side with almost contemptuous ease. Not because he disagreed, but because he needed to focus on getting her to safety, and not how the curves of her hips constantly drew his attention.

  Slipping his clothing back on from the night before, now that it was dry, he prepared to go outside. The swamp smell was mostly gone, though he did get a quick whiff every now and then, but nothing that he couldn’t deal with. Moving to the door, he opened it slowly and slipped outside.

  Climbing down the stairs, he cautiously moved toward the front of the house. His eyes searched the street for any suspicious activity or anything that might indicate that they had been compromised. The house was on a very busy street, which actually helped with the cover. There were so many people coming and going that passersby rarely noticed someone new in their midst. To the right were more houses, but to the left, the direction he now turned, shops began to populate themselves. Across the street were more houses, then a small park to break up the buildings before shops began on that side as well.

  There was a small coffee and sandwich shop just at the street corner that he had been to several times. In the morning the owner, Myles, served egg, cheese, and thick-cut bacon on a freshly baked croissant that was to die for. Connor smiled as he imagined the reaction from Madison. He hoped she was happy with his choice.

  “Myles,” he nodded casually as the little bell rung to announce his entrance. The portly little owner, a man with a thick foreign accent who nonetheless understood English perfectly despite his lilted speech, looked up.

  “Ah, Meester ‘Onnor,” he said politely. “You have the same?”

  “Yes, but I’ll need a second portion of everything if you please,” he said.

  The slightly-older gentleman’s face lit up like a neon light. “Oh, yes yes! For a lady?” he asked, his bushy eyebrows bouncing up and down happily.

  Connor laughed, shaking his head as he smiled at the man. “Indeed, though not quite like that,” he protested. “More like a coworker.”

  Unfortunately.

  Now where had that thought come from? Connor was more than willing to admit that he found Madison very easy on the eyes. But that was quite different from being interested in her. Wasn’t it?

  Shaking his head, he forced that thought aside, turning to look out the front of the building while Myles put together his order.

  Connor froze. There, parked across the street, was an Agency SUV. And loitering against the hood with his back to Connor was someone who unquestioningly was an Agent. Connor wasn’t sure how he knew that he knew, but he did. Something about the body language. With his back to him, the black clothing could have been anything, but that just reinforced his notions.

  How the fuck had they located them this fast? Could it be a coincidence?

  He shoved that thought from his brain almost immediately. There was no such thing as a coincidence, especially not one of such a huge magnitude as this. The Agency knew where to find them. He doubted they knew exactly where, because nobody had been watching the particular unit that contained their safe house. Nobody that he had seen, at least. Perhaps they had been using some high-powered binoculars or similar technology. That wasn’t really the Agency’s style, but he supposed it was possible.

  The trick now was going to be getting back without them seeing.

  “Here you are Meester ‘Onnor!” Myles said, putting the coffees in a cardboard tray and the packages of food in a bag.

  “Thank you Myles,” he said absentmindedly, pulling out a couple of bills and pushing them across the counter at the man. Pocketing his change, Connor grabbed the food and drink and turned to leave.

  An idea struck him.

  “Myles,” he said slowly.

  “Ah, yes?” the man asked cautiously, aware of the change of tone in Connor’s voice.

  “Do you drive?”

  “Ah, I sorry, what you say?” he asked again.

  “Drive,” Connor said more forcefully. “Do you have a vehicle?”

  The old man looked around somewhat nervously, then nodded. “Ah, yes, but, you no tell anyone, but Myles not supposed have one.”

  Connor smiled. “Can you take me a block and a half that way?” he said, pointing back in the direction of the safe house. The safe house and Madison.

  Myles began to protest, but Connor put the order down, pulled out his wallet, and shoved the cash in it across the table. The shop owner brightened immediately and bustled around the counter without saying a word, locking the front door and flipping the Open sign over to Closed.

  “Dis way!” he said, beckoning Connor to follow him.

  He followed Myles out through the kitchen and into the back of the shop, where a pink Cadillac sat in the parking spot nearest the door. Connor felt his mood sink. This was not the inconspicuous little sedan he had hoped to find. Not only was it a powder pink, but it was an older model with high tailfins and big cherry-red lights.

  Connor groaned a little. He was going to get caught. They were all going to die. The crinkling of the food brightened him. At least he was going to die with a full stomach!

  Snorting away his nerves, he climbed into the f
ront seat, relieved to see that the windows were actually a little tinted. That should work. Myles sat back and very carefully did up his seatbelt before looking in the various mirrors and adjusting them. Then he slowly inserted the key into the ignition and turned it over.

  The engine roared and coughed, rolled over again, made a loud bang, and then began to pour black smoke out of the dual exhaust.

  This time Connor groaned aloud as his head sunk toward his lap. This idea was not turning out the way he had expected it to. Not at all. Next he half-expected Myles to lean on the horn as it played a musical tune.

  That—thankfully—did not happen, and they cruised from the parking lot. Myles did, however, jam on the gas and cut off two cars as he swerved through traffic to the far lane to make the left-hand turn from his shop onto the road. Connor had visions of dying all over again, this time via vehicular crushing. He breathed a sigh of relief as they cruised by the Agency SUV without anyone seeming to notice.

  “Where I go?” Myles asked in his stilted English.

  “That house there,” Connor said, pointing. “Go all the way to the back.”

  Myles followed the directions perfectly, putting the car in park at the back of the house, where the driveway ended in a detached single-car garage.

  “Thank you,” Connor said, slipping out quickly and heading for the steps up to the third floor.

  “See you soon Meester ‘Onnor!” Myles said, then gunned the vehicle backward toward the street.

  Connor stood at the bottom of the stairs, trying not to flinch when more tires squealed as Myles probably cut off at least one, if not several more cars. There was no bang, thankfully, and so after a second he climbed up quickly, hoping that Madison was still asleep.

  She was, but the sound of the door opening woke her with a snap.

  “Easy!” he said. “It’s me. Everything is okay.”

  “Where did you go?” she asked, eyes wide awake, face unsmiling. She was looking around the room, reminding herself of where she was.

  “Food,” he said brightly, holding up the bag. “And caffeine,” he finished, holding up the drinks.