Gaslight (Crossbreed Series Book 4)

by Dannika Dark

  “She’s the yellow one,” he said. “On the right?”

  I chuckled and patted his back. “Yeah. Yellow. Now go say hi. Just don’t show her your sword.”

  He turned halfway around. “I don’t know, Raven. She’s human.”

  “It’s not like you’re going to marry her. Just say hello. If you don’t, I’m pretty sure they’re going to tackle you in your chair. Better to be the one who makes the first move. I still need to check out the bar before we leave. Good luck.”

  Niko hesitated for a moment before making his way over. He’d already given us his assessment of the club and confirmed there weren’t any immortals on the premises, so I figured he might as well have a little fun while I gave the main bar a second look. As a creature of habit, I liked to memorize my surroundings. Now that I had a better sense of the space, I was more confident about pulling off this job. If anything went wrong, I knew which way to run and how many bouncers were on-site.

  I neared the bar, and a feeling of dread came over me when I spotted a familiar face. Not Breed, but someone from my former life. His brown work boots were dirty and worn, as were his jeans. He was either on a work break from a construction site or not doing very well in life to be drinking in the middle of the afternoon. His blue eyes were still as piercing as I remembered, but the mole on his cheek that girls used to find endearing had now darkened in appearance. Time had done a number on his receding hairline, but it was unquestionably the same motherfucker who’d invited me to a dance only to leave me on the side of the road. More of a beer belly, and he’d lost his boyish features. But that was Kyle.

  Fuck.

  Once in a blue moon, I ran into an old classmate. Only two had recognized me, but they had avoided me instead of asking what I’d been up to all these years.

  Nothing special. Just killing criminals and living on the streets.

  Please don’t let him recognize me.

  “Had your fill of the grand tour?” Christian asked, startling me.

  I spun around, my neck and chest suddenly flaming hot. His eyes flicked down as if he could read my mind, but he said nothing.

  “Yeah, let’s get out of here.” When I sidestepped to walk around him, he blocked me from going anywhere.

  “What vexes you?”

  I turned my mouth down and shrugged as if I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “Humans. Their low energy gives me the willies.”

  He canted his head and glared at me in such a way that the hair on my arms stood up. “Says the woman who spent years avoiding Breed. Is there someone you know here?”

  When I shook my head unconvincingly, his gaze dragged up to the bar. He scanned the group of men gathered around, half talking and half watching a game on the muted TV in the corner. It dawned on me that it must be the weekend. It’s easy to lose track of time when you don’t live by the calendar.

  In a blur, Christian spun me around so unexpectedly that I gasped. From behind, he snaked his left arm across my middle and crossed his right arm higher until his fingers were touching the side of my neck.

  His dark voice sent a shiver down my spine. “Who am I looking for?”

  “Drop it, Christian. It’s not a big deal. I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone I knew here.”

  “And who might that be? An old lover?” After a beat, he said, “No, that’s not it.”

  Christian could read a heartbeat like braille, so I tried to keep mine steady.

  “Did this person hurt you?” His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Which one?”

  “You can’t kill a human. It’s against the law.”

  “Who said I wanted to kill anyone?” he asked darkly.

  “Remember the story I told you about the kid who faked a date with me a million years ago—the one my father got his revenge on by ruining his car? He’s in his thirties now, and he’s probably got a family. People change. Just look at me.” I snorted at the thought. “Now let me go. It’s water under the bridge.”

  Christian steered me to the left, using me like a divining rod. “Was it him in the red shirt? Or the plonker with the glasses?”

  “I’m going to stick a dagger in your leg if you don’t stop this ridiculous macho act.”

  “The one with the mole on his face? Aye, he’s the one.” Christian released his hold.

  I held my breath, anticipating a bar brawl, but instead, Christian glanced around nonchalantly. “Where’s our sword-wielding companion?”

  I blinked in surprise. “That’s it? You’re not going to stick a fork in him until he’s done? That was rather anticlimactic.”

  His brows knitted together. “What kind of man do you take me for?”

  I shook my head and glanced around. “There are more people here now than when we first came in. Do you think our friend showed up?”

  “I already checked the building. No fangholes on the premises.”

  The techno song changed to a steady beat, and the main lights dimmed as colored spotlights on the ceiling flashed across the room.

  I folded my arms. “Maybe we’re going about this all wrong.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Our guy might take one look at me and not like what he sees. He’s the seller, but the buyer’s the only one who counts. It’s possible he’s being selective based on a certain criteria from the buyers.”

  Christian herded me to a private corner where we could talk away from the crowd. “If that were the case, don’t you think he’d put out an ad that was a wee bit more specific about the woman he’s searching for? That would save him the trouble of meeting up with skinny women if his buyer wanted voluptuous.”

  “True, but maybe he has lots of orders—lots of different requests. It’s not a wasted trip if the girl fits someone else’s criteria. But I have a very specific look, Christian. And that might not be what people are interested in. What if we get Wyatt to pose as a buyer and make a request for a girl with mismatched eyes?”

  “Over my rotting corpse,” he snarled. “You’ll have every black marketeer this side of Cognito coming after you.”

  “Right, if we post it on the black market website. But he’s visiting human message boards, and I think that’s where we need to focus our attention. It doesn’t take a genius to know that if you have a buyer with specific needs, the value of the merchandise increases. I’m pretty sure he’s not the only Breed on this site, so it won’t be difficult to tip him off that we’re not human. Why waste our one opportunity if I’m not what he’s looking for? We need to play both sides. If he knows what the buyer wants ahead of time, that makes things interesting, don’t you think? Instead of a direct transaction, the seller puts them for auction to squeeze more money out of the buyer. Then he has him by the balls.”

  “Jaysus. Who are you?”

  “The Shadow,” I said dramatically. “Look, maybe we don’t have to take unnecessary chances. I’m not going to traipse off into the city and do this by myself, even though I could. You’re my partner, so we’ll work on this together. It won’t take that long to catch this guy. At least now we know one of his hangouts. If it turns out we can’t lure him with the shiny bait, then we’ll send him an email and schedule a time to meet. How’s that sound?”

  Christian folded his arms. “What if you meet him and he tricks you? He’s a Vampire—that much we know. You’re no match for a Vampire.”

  “First of all, he thinks I’m human. If something goes awry and he forces me to drink from him, he’s going to find out real quick how punishing my wrath can be when I’m juiced up with Vampire blood. Anyhow, it won’t come to that. It’s not going to be difficult to spot a Vampire in here.”

  “You don’t think he’ll grow suspicious when he happens to meet a girl with your rare condition?”

  “Condition?”

  He waved his hand dismissively. “Affliction.”

  I tapped my chin and studied his eyes. “Have you ever worn contacts?”

  “If you think that I’m going to be the bai
t—”

  “No, but this is a human club, and another Vampire will notice you.”

  “Worry not, lass. I’ve been doing this for years. I blend.”

  “I’m used to working alone, so let me think this through. We need to decide if Niko is the best person to help. If our Vampire frequents this place, he’s going to notice people who stand out. Even if Niko wears his hood, it’ll look weird. People don’t come to a club like this to be aloof and drink alone. The last thing we want to do is spook this guy.”

  Christian sighed. I couldn’t hear it over the music, but his body sagged and his breath skated across my neck. “There are a hundred other cases we could be working on. This is a shot in the dark, and it puts you at immeasurable risk. I don’t like it. Not one bit.”

  “This is what’s going to test our relationship, isn’t it? If I were just your partner, you wouldn’t fight me. This case isn’t any riskier than the others we’ve worked on. It’s nowhere near as dangerous as the situations I found myself in before Keystone. If this is going to work between us, then you have to accept that my job—just as yours—involves taking risks and putting my life on the line.”

  “And that means I can’t care what happens to you?”

  “No, but you’re going to have to ask yourself if this is something you can deal with moving forward. I can’t have you pulling me aside every time we’re on a case to tell me how dangerous it is and how I might get hurt. I already know that. This is what I signed up for. It’s what we both signed up for. I didn’t like you gallivanting off to Europe alone, but this is our life, and it’s not exactly conventional. We’ll look out for each other as partners, but don’t pull the boyfriend maneuver.”

  “I loathe that word. It’s humanly juvenile.”

  “I agree. So let’s work out a plan and do our job. This guy’s a Vamp. It’s not like he can pull any surprises on us, right?”

  Chapter 8

  Shepherd added ten giant cans of baked beans to his shopping cart. He was overwhelmed with all the different brands of food on the shelves. Normally Keystone bought groceries in bulk at a facility owned and operated by Shifters, but because so many roads were closed that morning due to ice, they were unable to reach the warehouse. So here they were, in aisle twelve of a grocery store. Wyatt and Blue tagged along to help with a shopping list Viktor had given them after Kira took inventory of their food supplies.

  Beans weren’t on the list, but Shepherd enjoyed meals that stuck to his ribs… like the succulent steak Kira had served that morning. He hadn’t had anything that mouthwatering since ever.

  Wyatt’s fingers wrapped around the handle of his shopping cart, the LOST SOUL tattoo between his knuckles accurately describing Shepherd’s current mood.

  All Shepherd wanted to do was keep his kid safe, but now he was wondering if telling Niko about his secret had been a smart idea. He’d given serious thought to every scenario and all the risks to himself, his child, and his team. What if Niko’s loyalty to Viktor was stronger than the Keystone brotherhood? Viktor was an upstanding guy who had given them all a second chance—even the killers among them. So long as they left their past behind. Even if Shepherd could get his kid back, what then? Viktor’s invitation to work as a mercenary didn’t come with a plus-one.

  They veered down another aisle, their carts in a single file. Wyatt suddenly hit the brakes, causing Shepherd to crash into him.

  “What the immortal hell is this? Face cream for hair?” Wyatt positioned the pink-and-white box next to his face like an advertiser on the television.

  Blue turned around and pushed up the sleeves of her soft brown leather jacket. “That’s bleach.”

  His brows remained suspended in two arches.

  “It’s for facial hair, like over the lip,” she explained, adjusting her winter knit hat.

  “For the lip,” Wyatt repeated flatly.

  She snatched the box from his hand and set it on the shelf. “Do you think we’re all smooth and hairless like a dolphin’s ass? Women have body hair. Accept it. We are legion.”

  “But that’s deception.”

  Blue strutted away, her boot heels knocking against the floor. “File a complaint.”

  Wyatt looked over his shoulder at Shepherd. “You think she has a beard?”

  Shepherd cracked a smile. Blue had always been one of the guys, but he was damn sure she wasn’t hiding a goatee. She was a pretty girl with olive skin and blue eyes so stunning that it was like looking into the ocean on a clear day. Her strut was fierce, and she had a matter-of-fact way of talking. A tone befitting a queen—graceful and ruthless.

  That was Blue.

  She paused at the end of the aisle and selected a hairbrush. It occurred to Shepherd that Kira owned nothing but the clothes on her back. The grocery list didn’t have any personal items. No shampoo, no brushes, no scented soap. Blue was a practical woman, so it was a good thing she’d tagged along to think of those things.

  Wyatt bumped her behind with his cart. “Shake a tail feather. I need to get outta here pronto. The yammering on the intercom is driving me nuts.”

  “We’re almost done,” she ground out.

  Wyatt threw his army-green jacket over his groceries and added his hat to the pile. His disheveled hair made it look like he’d just rolled out of bed and gotten dressed. Then again, he wasn’t exactly dressed to impress in a T-shirt that said: EAT RIGHT. EXERCISE. DIE ANYWAY.

  Gravewalkers were morbid little bastards.

  Wyatt swaggered past Blue.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” she shouted.

  Wyatt was halfway past the pharmacy. “To wrestle my inner demons in aisle one!”

  Shepherd lined up his cart next to Wyatt’s and pulled both of them from the front. “That’s Wyatt-speak for bathroom.”

  Blue chose one of the conditioner bottles and tossed it in her cart. All three baskets were loaded with meat and vegetables. Only natural ingredients were on the list since the new girl had no idea that cake came in a box. Whole corn instead of canned. Fresh fish instead of frozen. Flour instead of premade bread or pastries.

  Yeah, Shepherd could get used to having a servant after all. But he didn’t like the idea of calling her a servant. None of them did. Maid didn’t begin to cover all her responsibilities. Could one person handle a job this demanding? What kind of life was this for a woman? Never going out, never experiencing the world, and working all day for no money. Money to buy things like music, curtains, or a fucking dress.

  “Something on your mind?” Blue asked.

  Shepherd cracked his knuckles. “No, honey. I’m just the quiet type.”

  She searched his eyes.

  When he heaved a sigh, the long feather earring hooked to her right ear danced on a gust of air. Avian Shifters sometimes lost feathers during the shift, and Blue collected them like pieces of herself.

  “What was up with your falcon this morning?” he asked, switching subjects.

  Taken aback by the question, Blue faced the shelf and pretended to look at hair gel. “The new girl needs to know the house is mine.”

  His lips twitched. “Yours?”

  “I don’t mean mine, I mean my territory. It’s a Shifter thing. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Afraid she’s going to snack on you?”

  Blue swung her gaze up, brows arched high. “That’s not funny. For your information, my falcon can rip an animal to shreds. Anyhow, Shifters who live in the same house have to let their animals meet. If you don’t, it’s a recipe for disaster. No matter how much I get along with someone, my falcon needs to meet them in both human and animal form. It’s just our way.”

  “It doesn’t seem to bother Viktor.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s probably shifted in her presence before. They’re obviously not strangers to each other.” With that, Blue spun on her heel and steered her cart around the corner.

  Curious, Shepherd dragged the carts behind him and followed her through the pharmacy.
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  “And besides, what if she’s a rodent? I could eat her!” Blue didn’t seem to care who heard her.

  A white-haired lady perked up from the blood pressure machine, eyes wide.

  Blue finally stopped by the vitamins and pretended to read a bottle. “I’ll never trust her if I can’t meet her animal.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it. We’re all here to start over. You think she’s any different?”

  Her eyes didn’t flash up to look at him suspiciously but remained downcast. Blue had her own demons. Hell, they all did. That was a given. Viktor didn’t hire his employees based on exemplary behavior and squeaky-clean backgrounds.

  “Yes, but what if she’s a panther, Shep? You wanna run into that at three in the morning? Be my guest. Her little secret could get one of us killed.”

  A knot formed in the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly needed a cigarette. “Back in five.”

  “Shepherd! You can’t leave me here with all this food.”

  Without looking back, he held up his pack of smokes to explain.

  Shit. If Blue felt that way, then he was screwed. Shepherd’s secret could get them all killed, if not thrown in Breed jail, and that was why he had to keep a lid on it. The thought of his boy in Bane’s care was eating him up, plaguing his thoughts night and day. He’d finally tamped down the pain and rage, but now he was in a new place. One that was cold and lonely.

  Lost souls. No two words tatted on a man’s skin could ever more accurately describe Keystone.

  The intercom clicked on, and a familiar voice boomed on the mic. “Hey, shoppers! Are you tired of having your soul slowly sucked out of your body while shopping for face bleach? Yeah, well, get ready for a blast from the past. Oh, and steaks are free for the next hour. First come, first serve.”

  Shepherd halted in his tracks as two people literally left their carts and dashed to the meat section of the store.

  Wyatt had somehow hijacked the intercom. Shepherd didn’t see him standing at any of the registers, so he must have taken the private employee room hostage. Seconds later, a familiar Air Supply song came on.