As quick as it happened, it ended. Wick untangled himself, leaving me weak, speechless, and extremely aroused.
“I will have your heart, Andy.”
When I managed to lift my gaze to meet his, triumph glittered back at me. The corners of Wick’s lips tugged up into a smile.
“You owe me a date,” he said.
Before I could reply, he stalked out the door.
Chapter Thirteen
“I don’t have pet peeves, I have whole kennels of irritation.”
~Whoopi Goldberg
A text at three-thirty in the morning could often be a hilarious drunk-dial from a friend, but in my line of business it never meant anything good. It had me wishing the crazy, off-key Witches were the reason I fumbled around in the dark trying to find the light switch and my phone on the bedside table at the same time. I didn’t function well half asleep.
Lucien’s, Allan had texted.
Before I could process the command and think of a fitting response, like bite me, but wittier, another text came in from Allan.
Now.
Groaning, I staggered to the bedroom window and flung it open. The cold night air hit me. Shucking off my cozy, warm pajamas, I stretched my arms out wide, willed the change and leapt into the air. The only benefit of being at the beck and call of a Vampire was the night flying. Savoring the smooth flow of air beneath my wings, I angled to Lucien’s mansion.
How kind. They left a window open. Sweeping into the main banquet hall, I shifted so my human feet skimmed the ground. Slick move. Too bad it was wasted on only two people in the room—Clint and Allan.
“Kitten.” Allan held out a white fuzzy robe, befitting a five-star hotel. He was the largest Japanese man I’d ever seen, and not sumo wrestler big, not professional body builder big, just massive stature and well-toned muscles big, like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, but bigger. And drool-worthy handsome. But he knew it. If it weren`t for his decaying scent, allegiance to Lucien, and his hard-on for scaring the crap out of women, he might’ve been a romantic option. I wasn’t his type anyway, so it would never work.
Lucien definitely had a preference when it came to choosing his backup thugs.
Allan, reading my mental dialogue like a book, laughed, then shook his head. “Maybe one day, kitten, you’ll see things our way.”
Ignoring that, I stepped into the robe and gave Clint a pointed look. “Very thoughtful, Allan. Thank you.”
Clint sneered and looked away.
Allan folded the soft robe closed around me and leaned in to whisper in my ear—a pointless move considering he said it loud enough for Clint to hear. “Wouldn’t be right to face a Master Vampire without clothes.”
I snorted. Been there. Done that.
“Nothing I haven’t seen.” Lucien strolled into the room. Wick trailed in after him.
The sight of Wick sucked whatever smart-ass comment I was going to make out of my mouth in a giant whoosh of air. “Whatthefuckhappenedtoyou?”
Wick walked straight to me as if to give me a reassuring hug, and then his gaze flicked to Lucien. He rocked back on his heels and stopped a few feet short. Gashes on his face meshed together as I watched, and dried blood encrusted his shirt and pants. A lot of blood.
“It’s not all mine,” he said.
“But I saw you a couple hours ago!”
“Humans attacked Wick’s pack tonight. Humans.” Lucien cut in, saying the H-word like it soiled his mouth. “Sound familiar?”
Nodding, I tore my gaze away from Wick’s soulful eyes, deep pools of melted dark chocolate. “Yes. We were attacked on the train by humans and I…” My voice trailed off when I realized what information I was about to reveal.
“And you?” Lucien probed.
Clearing my throat, I continued. “Got attacked by more the other night.”
“When?” Wick demanded.
“Where?” Clint frowned.
“With whom?” Allan asked with a sly smile. He already knew. The bastard plucked the information out of my head.
“Last night, on the seawall…with Tristan.” I said the last part quietly. Not that it made a difference given the supes in the room.
Wick growled and looked away.
“Tristan? The Wereleopard pride leader?” Lucien asked.
I nodded.
“Interesting development.” The room fell silent as the wheels visibly turned in Lucien’s head, probably calculating how to use the relationship to his advantage.
While he thought on that, I turned to Wick. “Is everyone okay?”
Wick nodded his head without looking at me. Again, burnt cinnamon and old cat urine rolled off him. Jealousy—an ugly emotion, an even uglier smell. He clenched his hands into tight fists by his side.
Allan’s phone rang. We all turned to him, but he ignored it. Apparently, he preferred keeping his attention on all the pissed off supes in the room.
“Answer it,” Lucien said.
Allan nodded and slipped the phone from his inside jacket pocket. Two seconds later, he grunted.
“Care to share?” Lucien asked.
“The Wereleopards were attacked, too,” Allan said.
My breath snagged in my lungs.
Allan turned to me. “Your lover’s okay. The possessed humans almost dragged one of the women into the water, but otherwise they’re all fine.”
Memories of my kiss with Tristan slid under my skin and my breath caught. Wick’s head snapped up. His nose flared and a deep angry red spread across his face. Yellow eyes glared at me. If I wasn’t careful, his wolf would jump me.
Lucien made a thoughtful sound and stroked his chin. He turned to me. “Andrea.”
My eyes narrowed. “Lucien.”
“You will find out who is behind the attacks.”
“Why me?” That came out more petulant than I would’ve liked.
Lucien glared as if to say, how dare you question me. He waited to let the message set in. “Because you’re mine to toy with.”
“You stole that line from a movie.”
He crossed his arms. “Did not.”
“Did too.”
“It does sound familiar,” Wick added.
Lucien shot him a dark look and then waved in the air like he had an invisible wand and it erased the last few minutes from our memories. “Not relevant. You will do this.”
Sighing, I thought about being ornery, saying something like “make me,” but we both knew he could. I didn’t want to push my luck. “I’m on assignment right now. I don’t have the time.”
“Make time,” Lucien shot back. “Your connection with the SRD is exactly why I’m assigning you this task.”
I frowned. “I’ve been attacked twice, and the SRD is sucking ass with this investigation. Not sure I’m the best option.”
“You kill people for a living, and the humans are only attacking supes when there’s more than one,” Lucien said with a flat voice, as if it should have been obvious.
“Uh, hello?” I waved my hand. “Supe here.”
“But…” Allan cut in. “You’re a loner.”
“Hey!” My hands flew to my hips.
Allan did a manly version of rolling his eyes. “You don’t run in a pride or a pack.”
Ready to launch into a tirade about the benefits of flying solo, I stopped and thought about what he said. “The humans are only attacking supes when they’re in numbers,” I whispered, connecting the dots.
Wick nodded. “I’m telling my pack to disperse.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense to attack supes when they’re by themselves? Easier targets and all?” I asked the question out loud, not expecting an answer. I was close to something. But what? I went over the facts and what they had in common.
“Water!” I blurted out.
The men looked at me with blank faces.
“All the attacks happened near water. The train runs along the coastline, I was walking on the seawall, Wick’s place is in Kits and Tristan’s is near Burrard
Inlet.” I ticked the events off with my fingers.
“And they were trying to drag supes into the water.” Clint dusted off his suit jacket as if joining the conversation soiled him in some way.
“I would like this situation resolved quickly and quietly.” Lucien’s gaze flicked to the window and the lightening horizon. “And I would also like my bedtime snack.”
Clint strode out of the room without needing further prompting. I thought on Lucien’s motivations. The vamps hadn’t been attacked yet. Was he sending me out on a wild goose chase as a pre-emptive strike or did he want to save face among his Vampire friends? If it looked like he couldn’t control his area, the masters without territory would be quick to swarm if they perceived weakness. Most Vampires coveted Vancouver for its lack of annual sunshine.
Clint walked back into the room, escorting a blonde woman in an outfit best described as black string. I’m sure they called it something French, like negligée, to make it sound classier, but no amount of French labeling could hide a skank. Clint must’ve selected this one. Exactly his type.
“And that’s my cue to leave,” I said, drawing unwanted attention from the men.
The blonde gave me a vacant stare, or maybe it was her confused face. Hard to tell.
“I’ll walk you out…” Wick trailed off. His brow furrowed.
“To my car?” I finished, raising my brow.
Wick cast his gaze down, probably figuring out his next plan of attack.
Clint laughed. Allan and Lucien were too busy staring at the meal in anticipation.
“Join me?” Lucien asked Allan, who nodded. They both smoothly glided to the woman. She looked delighted at the attention.
“Pick this one out yourself?” I asked Clint, jerking my head toward the blonde.
He smiled. “How’d you know?”
“You’re predictable.” I shot the words at him as I strode past to the window.
“Andy,” Wick called out.
“Yeah?” I shucked the robe. My back was to the room, but Clint’s heated gaze burned into my backside and the sound of Wick’s sharp intake of breath bounced off the stark walls.
“I’ll call you.”
Laughing, I willed the shift and flew into the night.
“Did that woman turn into a bird?” I heard the blonde ask right before she gasped. In pain? In delight? Thankfully, I made it out of range before I found out.
Chapter Fourteen
“Lord, what fools these mortals be!”
~William Shakespeare
Whenever I talked to real cops, usually at the side of the road with crazy windblown hair and a guilty expression, they’d tell me ninety percent of their job involved paperwork. Looking around the downtown Vancouver Police Department precinct, I could immediately tell they told the truth, and nothing but the truth.
A beefy police officer led a man with stooped shoulders and a sullen expression through the main room in handcuffs. The prisoner shot the officer a panicked look. “You’re not going to call my mom, are you?”
The policeman exchanged an exasperated look with another officer before continuing onward, taking his charge through double swinging doors. I’d never been in this precinct before, so I wasn’t familiar with the layout. My guess? Destination: holding cells.
The woman ahead of me in line with the too-short, too-tight dress and come-fuck-me boots leaned over the counter and traced her finger along another police officer’s forearm. He snatched his hand back and cleared his throat.
“Sweetheart, I’ve got some moves that would help you loosen up,” she said.
“Are you soliciting a police officer?” The man with the pinched face looked up. I squinted to read his nametag—Officer Gallows. He had a lean face, with deep-set features, lending him an eastern European look. Dark bags under his eyes spoke of a long shift.
The hooker shrugged. “I’d help you relax, is all I’m saying. Free of charge. It’s not against the law to try to help a handsome officer, is it?”
Gallows rolled his eyes. “What can I help you with, ma’am?”
“I’m here to bail a friend out.”
“Of course, you are. Done this before?”
The hooker nodded.
“Then you know the drill.” The officer started presenting form after form for the hooker to fill out and sign over the smooth off-white counter. When she finished, he called another officer over to take her to get her friend, or at least that’s what I assumed.
Before I had a chance to step forward and make my request, an irate man bumped in front of me and yelled, “I pay your salary!” while pointing an accusatory finger at the officer.
Gallows let his breath out slowly before standing up. “Jim!” he bellowed. “Get this guy out of here.”
The crazy man kept yelling, but it became more and more incoherent as he rambled on. Another policeman, presumably “Jim,” came over and grabbed him by the upper arm. “Come on, Billy. Time to go. You don’t want to spend another night in here.”
“But the cucumbers!” Billy slurred. “All the cucumbers.” He sagged a little in Jim’s grip, making it easier for the officer to haul him away.
I raised my brows at the desk clerk. He shook his head. “Guy’s not playing with a full deck, if you know what I mean. Got caught stealing cucumbers, of all things.”
Laughing, I stepped forward. I didn’t want to lose out on this Chatty Cathy moment.
“What can I help you with, ma’am?” Officer Gallows asked. Somehow his face unpinched a little.
Not liking the label, I smiled instead of telling him off and leaned forward, letting my animal magnetism speak for me. I had a way with the menfolk. Sometimes I used it to my advantage, like now. Sure, I could use my superior intellect, but I’d found through my fifteen years as an SRD agent, my animal magnetism worked better and faster. No other Shifter I’d met possessed this trait. No idea why. Might have to hit O’Donnell up about that later. When Gallows’s eyes glazed over a bit, I knew he fell susceptible to my charms.
“My name’s Agent McNeilly. I’m with the SRD, and I’m investigating a rogue supe we believe is targeting old women for theft in order to sustain himself. I’d like to speak to someone regarding recent crimes in the area.”
Being government agencies, I’d once naïvely thought the SRD and local police would share databases and information, especially considering the Purge occurred eighty years ago. Not so. Hatred, fear, and ignorance ran deep in the government organizations. Both hoarded data, guarding it like dragons defending their treasure. I’d have to get a Supreme Court-issued subpoena in order to officially view the VPD’s files. I shot the idea down for many reasons—I’d have to talk to a judge about matters Booth preferred to keep quiet, the whole process took eons, approval was highly unlikely, and even if I came out successful, every cop in the building would be shooting the back of my head with death stares.
“We don’t usually grant that kind of access.”
I leaned against his desk, and purred. “Are you sure?”
The officer’s tired eyes widened. “Maybe we could make an exception?”
“That would be great,” I said.
“Jim?” Gallows’s voice strained. Realizing only the two of us could hear, he straightened up and called out in a louder voice. “Jim!”
“What?” Jim grumbled, walking up behind me. “Why do you always give me the crazy ones?”
I turned and gave the officer a dark look.
Realizing I’d heard him, he straightened and plastered a wide, albeit fake, smile on his face. “Present company excluded, of course.”
Gallows exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “Could you please assist SRD Agent McNeilly here with access to our crime database?”
Jim’s eyebrows rose.
“Just do it.”
Jim hesitated and then looked at me. I poured on the wide-eyed, big-boobed charm, even if they weren’t that big. “Right this way.” Jim held his arm out. After I graciously took it, he led
me to a large room filled with desks. Cops milled around everywhere.
As soon as we were through the main doors, and out of Gallows’s hearing range, Jim spun me around and squinted at me. “Now cut the crap and the cute girl act. We don’t share resources with the SRD. What are you really here for?”
Fuck. Well, that didn’t work. Apparently my wide-eyed, big-boobed charm didn’t work as well as I thought it did. Jim had seen right through it. He had one hell of a poker face. If only my position with the SRD and my competence earned me professional courtesy with the VPD. This investigation sucked. Normally, my assignments required little research. My biggest challenge usually involved finding a way to get in and get out without getting dead. Why’d Booth choose me of all people? Surely, the SRD had better agents for this job.
I scanned the room for a way out and my attention snagged on a familiar face.
“Officer Stan Stevens,” I blurted out.
“What?” Jim said.
“I’d like to speak to Officer Stevens.”
The cop stood speechless for a half minute, while he worked out his jaw, clenching and unclenching. Probably deciding whether to throw me out on my ass or to let me speak to his comrade.
“Stan!” he bellowed over his shoulder. “There’s an SRD agent here to see you.”
Everyone in the room, all twenty-odd cops halted what they were doing before swiveling their heads in my direction.
“Send her over, then,” Stan yelled back. Once he spoke, everyone went back to what they were doing.
Jim grumbled and led me to Stan’s desk.
“Agent McNeilly,” he greeted me with a friendly smile and offered his hand, then indicated for me to take a seat at his desk.
Something happened when he sat back down. He flicked the “cop mode” switch. Stan’s eyes squinted at me across the old dilapidated wood desk that had taken one too many beatings from outraged criminals.
“Your eyes are red.” Stan leaned across his desk.
“I’m not sleeping well.”
“Sure you haven’t been drinking?”
“Geez!”
Stan shrugged.
“Well your eyes are glazed.” I folded my arms.
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