Body Master

by C. J. Barry

  Seneca pursed her lips. “I covered the east side. Nothing.”

  Max stared at her. “You know, this whole partner thing would be a lot more productive if we actually worked together.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Hey, I thought you had the night off.”

  “And I thought you were going back to the office,” he said.

  Seneca shook her head, her silky hair shimmering. “This is never going to work.”

  She sounded serious, and that worried him. He needed XCEL and her to find Ell’s killer. “I think we need to do some trust-building exercises,” he suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

  She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “If you think I’m going to fall backward and let you catch me, forget it.”

  He had a better idea. “Ask me a question.”

  Seneca stared at him. “Any question?”

  “Anything, and I’ll answer it truthfully.”

  She licked her lips, which was a gesture she had that he was really starting to like.

  “Who did the necklace belong to?” she asked.

  Any question but that one. However, he couldn’t back down. He was trying to build trust here. He took a deep breath and stared out the window. “My wife.”

  “Wife?” Seneca sounded like she was choking.

  “She was killed,” he added. “When we crashed.” That part was a lie, but Seneca would never know.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. The sincerity of her expression surprised him once again. “Did you have any children together?”

  “No. She was a native, not a Shifter,” he replied. “They weren’t a compatible species.”

  “She wasn’t from your home planet?” Seneca asked.

  He gave a short laugh. “We haven’t had a home planet in three hundred years. Even if we did, there aren’t enough of us left to save the race.”

  “That’s a shame. For all of you.” She held his gaze for a few moments and then lifted the binoculars once more.

  Max leaned back in his seat and stared at her. Sometimes, he couldn’t figure her out at all. Was that sympathy? Couldn’t have been. Not from Seneca. She could never, would never understand what it meant to have no home. No safe place. Plus she killed Shifters for a living. That said it all.

  “Lights out,” Seneca announced suddenly and tossed the binoculars on the dashboard. She grinned at Max. “Ready or not, here we come.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  They worked silently in the back of the van, checking and double-checking gear. Dempsey seemed to know what he was doing, which made Seneca feel slightly better. But first time out with a new partner was always a crapshoot, and who knew how Dempsey was going to react?

  “I’m ready,” he told her.

  She looked at his short-sleeved T-shirt, pants, and shoes. Okay, she knew he didn’t need armor or night vision or the plethora of weapons like she did, but still. “What happens to those clothes if you shift?”

  He pulled on the communications headgear. It was for her benefit, not his. Shifters could literally hear a pin drop. “All organic materials. I can integrate them.”

  “Good to know,” she said, momentarily distracted by how that miracle could happen. She scanned his height and breadth. He was a big man, and there was a lot of material to integrate. So, where did it go? Inside, or did the molecules get absorbed and reused? And then—

  She realized he was watching her study his body.

  “I can see the wheels turning,” he said, grinning.

  She rolled her eyes. “Please, I’ve seen plenty of naked Shifters. However, clothing doesn’t seem to fare particularly well in the transformation.”

  “No such problem here.” Then he leaned toward her as he shoved his Glock in the small of his back. “Were you worried?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You all look the same to me.”

  He smiled like he knew better. Then he grabbed the disrupter pistol and jumped out the back van doors. “I’m lead.”

  The hell, she thought as she followed him. “You do realize that I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t hold my own.”

  “I know,” he said and shut the doors behind her. “But this way, if it all goes to hell, you can blame it on me.”

  Now he was confusing her. What happened to the whole Shifter prototype agent initiative? On the other hand, why was she arguing about it? “Have it your way.”

  They hiked it to the building, down the side alley, and toward the rear entrance. The prep crew had made sure they’d get inside with no problems. It was always nice when Seneca had the time to plan and do things right. Prep crew cleared the way. Backup and cleanup crews were at the ready. They used the best equipment known to man. All this for one shapeshifter. If the taxpayers only knew where their money was going.

  For his part, Dempsey was all business, moving ahead of her noiselessly and cleanly, weapon drawn. She followed his silent signals to the back door. The city hum faded to the background as she focused her senses on every detail of the building. The location of the fire escape and garbage cans, the smell of rotting food, the reflection of lights on puddles in the alley.

  Seneca readied the AA-12 shotgun loaded with monster slugs, and suddenly she missed Riley. She knew what he would do, how he’d react in every situation. She’d trusted him implicitly. Now she had to start all over again. She whispered to Dempsey into her comm, “Have you ever done this before?”

  Dempsey smiled, his teeth white in her night vision goggles. “Plenty of times.”

  She groaned. “You are so full of crap.”

  He chuckled in her earpiece. “Ready?”

  Seneca nodded and turned the door handle slowly. It swung open, and Dempsey slipped inside. She followed close behind and down the hallway dotted with stingy ceiling lights. Dempsey slowed and she noted the next doorway had a beam of light streaming from under it.

  The thought of someone still in the building chilled her to the bones. They didn’t need witnesses, or worse, victims. Did the prep crew miss someone? Dempsey motioned for her to wait as he moved along the wall to the door. He inhaled deeply a few times, and then she heard him say, “Empty.”

  She let out a breath, feeling far more anxious than she’d realized.

  They cleared the first floor, second floor, and stairs to the third-floor landing in a few minutes. They moved in unison into position on either side of Dillinger’s door.

  Dempsey showed her three fingers to start the countdown.

  Seneca gripped the rifle and exhaled to calm herself.

  Two fingers.

  It’d be fine. Dempsey was one of them. He should know how to stop them.

  One.

  Dempsey stepped out and kicked the door in with a single deafening blow. Then he was inside, and she was right behind him into a narrow foyer, then an open living room.

  One moment Dempsey was in front of her, and the next, he was sailing through the air and crashing against the wall, leaving her face-to-face with the biggest Shifter she’d ever laid eyes on. Through her green night vision, his skin was mottled, his head domed, and his eyes glowing.

  All seven feet of him swung around to face her. She glanced at Dempsey out cold on the floor. Looked like it was going to be the hard way again.

  “Police,” she said. “You’re under arrest. Don’t suppose you’d like to give yourself up?”

  His mouth split into what she assumed to be a Shifter smile with a whole lot of teeth.

  Guess not.

  She fired the rifle, and the slug ripped through his stomach before bouncing off the wall behind him. He simply stood there and smiled.

  Oh, perfect.

  He rushed her in a puff of black dust, reappeared beside her, and swatted the rifle, breaking it in two. She dove beneath his clawed hand in the split second that he was out of position. His hand narrowly missed taking off her head, instead ripping off her night vision and headgear. She ducked behind a big recliner and drew her Glock as Dillinger’s slow, deep rumble rang in her e
ars. Her cheek was bleeding from the blow, and her eyes were having difficulty focusing.

  “Dempsey, get your ass up!” she yelled. Then she peered over the top of the chair to see where Dillinger was, just in case he’d decided to bolt. The window illuminated his black figure standing in the middle of the room. No such luck.

  “You are so pathetic,” he said, walking toward her. “Slow, stupid, arrogant human. You don’t even know that you’re extinct, do you?”

  “Hey, at least no one is kicking me off my own planet!” she snapped back, and then realized that might not be the best way to win him over.

  With a loud growl, he grabbed the recliner and tossed it aside like a toy. Trapped in the corner, Seneca unloaded her Glock at his head, knowing full well she didn’t have a chance of stopping him unless she could get her hands on him.

  He swiped at the gun, and she grabbed for his arm but missed as it came back and connected with her head. She slammed against the wall and felt herself slipping into darkness. Desperate, she reached for some part of his body to force-shift.

  But he suddenly disappeared out of reach. She tumbled forward and shook her head to clear it. The room faded in and out for a moment before she realized what she was seeing.

  In front of her two Shifters were locked in combat. One was Dillinger, and the other was . . . She glanced over where Dempsey had been. The only thing left was a blood smear.

  He was about the same size as Dillinger, but his skin was a lighter gray, his body more muscular, powerful and sinuous. And he fought like a wild animal. Alien bodies collided, merged, re-formed, and slashed. Black dust filled the room and blood spattered across the ceiling and walls.

  Every slash, every blow was filled with murderous intent. This battle would be to the death. She watched the horrific action, feeling detached and helpless as they collided with walls and furniture. Every impact Dempsey took seemed to pierce her skull.

  She crawled on the floor looking for a weapon. She knew she was outclassed, outweighed, and out of her element here, but she had to do something. If Dempsey lost, Dillinger would finish her off and walk away to kill another day. That was not going to happen on her watch. She spotted the disrupter pistol ten feet away.

  Dillinger landed a solid right, and Dempsey grunted and slammed against the wall beside her. He spared her a quick growl that sounded like, “Get outside!” before attacking again.

  Get outside? Did he just order her out? Well, screw that. Who the hell did he think he was? She was the senior member here. So instead, she made a dash for the disrupter. Just as she grabbed it, she heard glass breaking and spun around to find a hole in the apartment where the window had been. Both Shifters were gone.

  She ran over and looked down. They were in the narrow alley, lying motionless on the pavement. She holstered the disrupter and pulled out the tranquilizer gun. The barrel had been flattened, and the cartridge was leaking. She tossed it aside and checked her spare tranquilizer darts. All were busted except for one. It was cracked and half empty. Not enough to hold down a Shifter, but enough for a human. She hit the floor running.

  By the time she got down three flights and outside, Dillinger was stirring. She skidded to her knees beside him and put her hand on his chest. Concentrate. “Shift!”

  He let out a long wail as his body began to contort. She gave Dempsey a quick look. He was still in Shifter form, which meant he was either too injured to shift back or unconscious. She should check but Dillinger was taking his sweet time shifting back to human form, and she wasn’t leaving him until she knew for certain that he was down for the count. She said to Dempsey, “You alive over there?”

  No reply, and she was surprised to realize how worried that made her.

  Minutes passed before Dillinger fully shifted to a thirty-something white male. She jabbed the tranq dart into his chest and watched until the vial emptied.

  Then all the energy seemed to seep out of her body. Her arms and legs hurt like hell, and the side of her head throbbed. She got up and made her way to Dempsey, who was moving slowly and had shifted back to human.

  She dropped to her knees next to him and pulled a cell phone from her suit. She speed-dialed the troops and told them the package was ready for pickup. She was ordering an ambulance for Dempsey when he grabbed her arm and said, “Don’t.”

  “What?” she asked.

  His eyes were closed. “No ambulance. No doctors.”

  “You need to be looked at, Dempsey.”

  He opened his eyes. “They can’t help me. Your medicine doesn’t work the same for us.”

  She realized he was probably right. XCEL knew nothing about Shifters health-wise. They were just going to be put on ice anyway. “Cancel the EMTs,” she said and hung up.

  Then Dempsey rolled to his side with great effort.

  “What do you need?” she said.

  “You really don’t want to know,” he replied, sounding distracted. He seemed to be concentrating on his breathing. She glanced up thirty feet to the hole in the apartment. That was why he’d told her to get outside. He was expecting to push Dillinger out. Dillinger wasn’t.

  “Try me,” she said.

  He rubbed his neck. “I could use a cold drink.”

  Seneca helped him to his feet as the cleanup crew arrived. They could take it from here, and luckily, they never asked questions. “That makes two of us.”

  From the shadows, Max watched Seneca deal with the guys in black suits. An ominous-looking truck had pulled into the alley, blocking most of it. Dillinger was neutralized and being loaded into a steel container.

  And Seneca Thomas could make Shifters shift against their will.

  In all the places he’d been and all the people he’d seen, he’d never met anyone who could do that. Was she unique or were there others with that ability? How had she discovered her power? Did she know about it before she joined XCEL? Did they know? He had a lot of questions, but he doubted he’d ever get answers from her.

  Seneca glanced at him with a flicker of concern and then turned around to talk to another uniform. He’d had the opportunity to see her in action, and she was good, even without the added special skills. Between being able to spot them and being able to make them shift, she was a born Shifter hunter.

  The lid was closed over Dillinger, and Seneca walked back toward Max. She handed him a bottled water. “Sorry, the best I could do.”

  He took it and nodded toward her bloody cheek. “Thanks. Are you okay?”

  She gave a short laugh. “I’ve had worse. You?”

  “All healed,” he said and took a drink from the bottle. “Did you ask them where they take the bodies?”

  Seneca nodded her head. “They wouldn’t tell me.”

  She’d asked? He was surprised, which, considering everything he’d just witnessed, was quite a feat. He turned to her. “I saw how you made Dillinger shift. I’d like to know how you did it.”

  She didn’t look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He could see the tension in her shoulders. She knew exactly what he was talking about. “You put your hand on him and said, ‘Shift.’ And he did. Care to explain that?”

  “Not really,” she said, her gaze fixed on the cleanup crew.

  Max leaned back against the brick wall. “I know what I saw.”

  She finally looked at him, her expression guarded. “It’s personal.”

  This was why he preferred to work alone. Partners were a royal pain. “Or I could talk to MacGregor and all the other agents to see what they know about it.”

  Seneca glared at him for what seemed an eternity. “Yes, I can force-shift or shift-force or whatever you want to call it. I can, but don’t ask me how. End of discussion.”

  Like it was no big deal. Maybe not to her. To a Shifter who had to work very closely with her, it was a bit worrisome. “Are there others who can do that?”

  “I have no idea,” she said. “It’s not like there’s a club for freaks like me.”
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  “Can you force a Shifter from human form back to Shifter form?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I haven’t found a Shifter willing to let me try. Are you volunteering?”

  “I’ll pass. Dillinger didn’t look too comfortable.”

  “He got what he deserved,” she said, and she meant it.

  “Do we all deserve that?” he asked.

  Seneca hesitated a moment, just long enough for him to realize that she had to actually think about it.

  “No. You don’t,” she said. “Unless, of course, you tell anyone what I can do.”

  Ah, so that was it. “Riley knew this.”

  “Yes, he did. Deal with it.” Then she slapped her palms together. “Well, that was fun. I think I’ll go somewhere to be alone now.”

  Dempsey snagged her by the arm just as she turned to leave. He could see the anger and determination in her eyes, but he didn’t care.

  “You aren’t a freak. And neither am I,” he said softly. “We are what we are.”

  “You had a whole world of people like you,” she whispered back, her voice breaking. “There’s no one here like me.”

  Her eyes were starting to water, her hands clenched into fists. He understood exactly how she felt. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  It was all he could think of to say. For a few moments, they didn’t move. Then he released Seneca and stepped back.

  “We need to get back to the van,” she said and started walking away. “By the way. Good job tonight.”

  Max smiled in the dark.

  Hager took a sip of the twenty-year-old cabernet sauvignon he was sharing with the man he’d recently put into the Skinman role for Shifters in New York City. The former Skinman had become lazy and uncooperative, and Hager decided that replacing him was necessary in order to move his plan along. George, the new Skinman, was a Shifter who Hager had worked with on Govan, and a business man first and foremost. His motives were clear—money. Hager liked that. It made it easy to manipulate him.

  Hager said to him, “You can understand my concern. I need to be sure you can supply me with enough virgin DNA. I don’t want duplicates. I don’t want anything artificially altered. I want pure, unadulterated DNA.”