Body Master

by C. J. Barry

  Skinman grimaced as he tried the wine again. Hager knew he didn’t like it, didn’t understand the point of a fine wine, the symbolism of an alien savoring the fruits of human labor. Pity. Opportunities were meant to be taken.

  “No problem,” he said. “I got enough for you and your boys. You just keep the protection and the money coming.”

  “Of course,” Hager said and set his glass down on the granite table that stretched between them. Dim light from the overhead bulbs caught the cut- crystal wineglass and reflected tiny prisms across the cool cellar. Dusty bottles stacked in careful order lined the walls. The floors of the old cellar wore the passage of time.

  Hager loved old things. The things that no one else seemed to want. Shifters didn’t often live long enough to watch their possessions get old. He planned to.

  “Can’t do a damn thing without money on this crappy planet,” Skinman grumbled. He pointed a boney finger at Hager. “You don’t have money on this world, you got nothing. No life, no women, no respect.”

  Hager picked up his glass and swirled the wine, watching it dance red and maroon in the light. “There are more important things in life than sex and respect. You should have learned that by now.”

  Skinman gave a grunt. “These worlds, they’re all the same. All uptight and totally screwed up. They’re just too stupid to know it.”

  Stupid, yes, but this country was tenacious in relinquishing its civility. Govan had been simpler, its military government more than willing to engage in large-scale violence. A genocide there hardly made the headlines. Here, he’d need to be far more careful if he wanted to gain the level of power and prestige he was accustomed to. This was going to require a more methodical, calculated, and subversive attack. One that the people of the country wouldn’t notice until it was too late.

  “Now, that’s no way to talk about our hosts,” Hager said, lifting his glass. “To the Americans.”

  “May they live long enough to make me rich and happy,” Skinman said and drained his wineglass.

  Such a waste, Hager thought. Both of mind and body. He savored a small sip, let it glide along his tongue and all the taste buds courtesy of human DNA. An amazing sense, really.

  “Unfortunately, not all of them are stupid,” Skinman said.

  Hager lifted an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

  Skinman pushed to his feet and started pacing the length of the wide underground tunnel, alternately blocking out the ceiling lights. His long black hair and goatee meshed with the black custom shirt, tailored pants and high-end shoes—all very expensive. But expensive clothes didn’t make a man. Power made a man.

  Skinman finally stopped in front of Hager. “I got word that XCEL has a Shifter.”

  Hager narrowed his eyes. “As an agent? Are you certain?”

  Skinman nodded his head a few times. “He was spotted in an XCEL operation last night. He and a female partner took down a Shifter in short order.”

  XCEL. The one feeble attempt of this country’s government to combat Shifters. They’d managed to pick off a few rogue Shifters but posed no real threat to his fledgling organization. Still, they were a nuisance. At some point, he’d need to address them. He’d hoped it would be later, when his all-Shifter army was at full strength. He may not have that long, after all.

  “He could be a problem,” Skinman said. “He can see us.”

  A problem, yes, but fascinating as well. Cooperating with the enemy. Hager couldn’t remember anything like that happening on Govan. Well, except for him of course.

  “Name?”

  “Max Dempsey.”

  Hager didn’t recognize it. He didn’t expect to. Shifters adopted whatever names fit in with their current environment. “Address?”

  “Not yet, but I can get it,” Skinman said. “You want him killed?”

  Hager shook his head. “Unnecessary.”

  Skinman sputtered. “But he can ID us. He’s working for an agency that hunts us down. Why not?”

  Hager smiled. “XCEL is not a threat to us. But we wouldn’t want them to rally any additional troops, would we?”

  Skinman’s disappointment was palpable. “You used to be more fun, Hager.”

  Hager swirled his wine in thought. He found it hard to believe XCEL would approve of a Shifter working among them. He’d been here long enough to understand exactly what their reaction would be. “Do they realize there is a Shifter in their midst?”

  Skinman shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I don’t care. I just don’t want to run into him.”

  “I told you I’d protect you.” Hager pushed out of his chair to shake the man’s hand. “Keep your head down. I do not want to have to find another Skinman.”

  Skinman said, “Well, neither do I. Tell me when you are ready to roll. I wanna be there to see this city brought to its knees.”

  “You’ll be the first to know. And remember, I need thirty orders by this Friday,” Hager said. “And send in Puck on your way out.”

  Skinman left with a “Will do.”

  Hager sat back down in the leather chair and pondered his next steps. The XCEL Shifter needed to be neutralized and perhaps even recruited. That would be quite a coup, having a former XCEL agent in his ranks. He needed a few more good recruits, Shifters who were serious about making this world their home.

  He’d already filled the borough lord positions with allies he knew he could trust. They formed the inner circle of his organization and were busy recruiting new Shifters for the next phase of his plan. That new army would give him the power and numbers to take down the established organized crime families and then move into their positions. One by one, block by block, borough by borough, this city would be his.

  Hager traded his wineglass for his mobile device. Updates and information from his sources streamed down the tiny screen, keeping him in touch with every corner of this city and beyond.

  Puck scurried in. For some reason that Hager would never understand, he wore the skin of an old Irishman and refused to change.

  “What’s up?” Puck said, coming to a quick stop in front of Hager.

  He put down the device. Technology was too insecure, and he’d been burned before. Some things were better handled the old-fashioned way. “I need the location of the local XCEL office, and the entire list of agents working for them. Get my best tracker on it.”

  Puck nodded furiously. “Tracker, got it.”

  “That’ll be all.”

  With that, Puck scurried away.

  Hager picked up his wineglass, pleased with his current position. Once the Shifter was exposed, XCEL would be steeped in disorder and a whole new set of opportunities would present themselves.

  He tipped the glass to his mouth and let the remainder of the exquisite liquid slide down his throat. A very good year indeed. He was sure the human owner who’d sacrificed his life, his house, and his wine cellar to Hager would have agreed.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Max knew there was a problem the minute he walked into the office for the evening shift. The entire floor was quiet, voices subdued, tension high. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, an instinctive human sign that indicated something was very wrong. He’d found it quite useful.

  As he crossed the suite, Price stepped in front of him. “Max Dempsey, what a surprise.”

  Max narrowed his gaze. “I work here, Price.”

  Then Conklin blocked his way when he tried to enter his office. Conklin was a good agent, always the first one to volunteer for cases. The life of the party. But today, the agent stared him down. “But you aren’t one of us, are you, Dempsey?”

  Max had almost liked Conklin, until now. He scanned the office as agents began to converge around him. Every eye, every glare was on him. He had known when he started that this day would come. So who’d given him up? Seneca? He couldn’t believe that. She was too much about the job. MacGregor? No, he wouldn’t want to deal with it.

  Conklin shoved him in the chest as the other agents
backed him up. “Not going to deny it, are you, you bastard?”

  Max planted his feet and stood his ground. “You don’t want to start this.”

  Conklin laughed. “Are you gonna turn into a big bad Shifter? Go ahead. We know how to handle those.”

  Max clenched his fists. He really didn’t want to hurt these guys, didn’t want trouble. But no matter what he did, trouble always seemed to find him.

  Conklin shoved him again. “Go ahead, shift.”

  “That’s enough, Conklin.”

  Everyone turned to the suite door where Seneca stood. Her intense gaze scanned the room before settling on Max. Without another word, she walked up and stood next to him. Every fiber of his being seemed to align with her.

  Conklin looked at her in absolute disbelief. “Do you know what he is?”

  She replied calmly, “Yes. I do. Leave it alone.”

  Max noticed that she didn’t flinch. His partner. Who’d have thought?

  “You expect us to leave it alone?” Conklin said. “He’s the reason we’re dying. Or haven’t you noticed all the funerals lately?”

  Her voice remained level, but there was a dangerous edge to it. “Don’t be a moron. There are good and bad Shifters, just like there are good and bad humans.”

  She tried to push past him to their office, but Conklin stepped in her way and said, “Yeah, but they don’t rip you to shreds with their bare hands.”

  Max’s hands were clenched so hard, they hurt. If Conklin so much as touched her . . .

  Seneca crossed her arms. “Well, you proved me wrong, Conklin. You are a moron. Since you seem to know everything, did you also know he helped take down our number one killer last night?”

  “I could have done that,” Conklin said.

  “No. You couldn’t have.” She looked over the rest of the faces. “None of you would have been able to handle that one. You may not like it, but we need Dempsey.”

  Conklin turned red. “You’re screwing him, aren’t you?”

  Max felt the last bit of self-control snap. He was just about to slug Conklin when Seneca hauled off and punched the man right in the face. He fell into a few of the guys, and they launched him back at her. Then Max was between them. Enough was enough.

  He grabbed and twisted the collar of Conklin’s shirt like a garrote. It was only because he had an audience that he stopped himself from tightening it too much.

  “Don’t,” he said softly, a growl echoing his single word, sounding more alien than human. The men around them took a step back. He smelled fear for the first time. Not a particularly good way to charm the coworkers. He released Conklin with a bit of a push.

  Conklin was sputtering through the blood running down his lip. “You bastard—”

  MacGregor’s door swung open, and he bellowed, “What the hell’s going on out here?”

  Conklin glared at Max. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing, my ass,” MacGregor roared as he headed for them.

  “We had a situation,” Seneca said, shaking her hand. “You might call it undue friction.”

  “Shit,” MacGregor grumbled and planted himself in front of Conklin. “You got a problem with the team I assembled?”

  “No, sir,” Conklin said and wiped his lip on his sleeve.

  “Good. That’s one less thing you gotta worry about. Now get your ass out there and do your damn job.”

  Conklin grumbled and wandered off. The rest of the team dispersed quietly.

  MacGregor turned to Max and Seneca and frowned. “My office. Now.”

  Seneca gave Max a weary look as she walked past him. They all filed into MacGregor’s office and closed the door. He sat heavily in his beat-up chair. “I’m sorry that happened, Max. If I find the leak, I’ll plug it.”

  Max said, “It was going to come out sooner or later.”

  MacGregor shook his head. “Well, I got a problem somewhere.” Then he turned to Seneca. “And you, no more punching other agents. You’re undermining all my goddamned team-building efforts.”

  She looked indignant. “How do you know it was me?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Don’t bullshit me. I know he probably deserved it—”

  “He did,” she said.

  “But don’t do it again. He got the hint,” MacGregor finished.

  She waved her hand. “Okay, okay.”

  Seneca gave Max a quick smile, and the rampant confusion in his mind settled. Why had she defended him? Why? Good and bad Shifters? Where did that come from?

  MacGregor opened a file on his desk. “Now that the foreplay is over, I hear you got Dillinger last night. How did it go?”

  “Seneca did most of the work,” Max said at the same time Seneca said, “Dempsey kicked his ass.”

  MacGregor looked from one to the other. “Nice to see you worked out your differences. Too bad you aren’t working any cases for a while.”

  “You promised us Skinman,” Seneca said, shaking her head.

  MacGregor lifted his gaze. “Yesterday. I promised that yesterday, before the leak. Now I have to deal with that.”

  “This is my fault, not Seneca’s,” Max said.

  “You guys got something going on that I don’t know about?” MacGregor asked, frowning deeply.

  Seneca gave a groan of frustration and leaned forward. “Look. Skinman is a major threat. Every day we wait, he kills more people. He has to be stopped.”

  MacGregor closed the folder. “He’s also underground, which means it’ll be harder than hell to provide you with backup.” He spared Max a quick glance. “Especially now.”

  “We don’t need backup,” Seneca said. “We can handle it.”

  MacGregor pointed a pudgy finger at each of them in turn. “No Skinman. And that’s a direct order. Not until I figure out where our leak is. This could be serious. The Committee will have my ass in a sling if their plan is put in jeopardy. And until further notice, you are both taking some well-deserved time off.”

  Seneca was on her feet in an instant. “What?”

  “I realize that a life outside this agency is a foreign concept to you,” MacGregor said as he settled back in his chair. “But you will take it, and you will not come into this office until I give you the all clear. Is that understood?”

  Max eyed Seneca as she crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Yes.”

  “I’m so glad we had this little talk,” MacGregor said. “And don’t leave town. I still need you. You two are the best agents I have. You don’t come back, you leave me with the likes of Conklin.”

  “I’d like to know why everyone thinks we’re screwing,” Seneca muttered as she shut their office door after Dempsey.

  “Interesting, that,” he said.

  And disturbing. Was it something she’d done? Or the simple fact that they were a male-female team? Maybe she’d put a stop to it by hitting Conklin. Her hand still hurt, but it was well worth it. He’d be okay and now everyone would drop the whole screwing thing.

  Besides, in the grand scheme of things, Dempsey as a Shifter in their midst was a bigger issue. She’d been surprised at Dempsey’s restraint, which was obviously better than hers. Then again, she’d known that. He had to have supreme self-control in order to work here and with her. It wasn’t like she’d made it easy for him.

  But now she had “time off ” to think about it. She hadn’t taken more than one day off at a time since joining the agency. What was she supposed to do with more than that? Get a mani-pedi? She pulled out her briefcase with a huff of disgust and started loading case files into it. Might as well do some homework while she was exiled to normal life.

  Dempsey sat in the chair across from her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that the Skinman file?”

  She looked at him. He wore a pale, faded chambray shirt under a brown leather jacket and nicely fitted jeans. Dark eyes gazed back at her, the edges crinkled in amusement. A sexy smile tugged at his lips. It suddenly occurred to her why everyone thought she was sleeping with him.

&
nbsp; “Of course not. That would be going against a direct order,” she said and slid the Skinman file into the case.

  “That’s true,” he said with a nod. “Plus it’d be unwise to go after a man like that without XCEL support. Especially since you are essentially one of us now.”

  That stopped her midpack as she recalled the looks of betrayal she’d gotten from the other agents. MacGregor could yell all he wanted, but he couldn’t make that prejudice go away. He couldn’t force them to change their mind-set. She was no longer one of them. She was an outcast, just like Dempsey.

  “They’ll come around,” she said with a shrug.

  “No, they won’t,” Dempsey said. After a few beats, he added, “I’m sorry.”

  She closed the latch on her briefcase. “I don’t need anyone to save me, Dempsey.”

  “What about dinner? Do you need that?” he asked smoothly.

  Her pulse jumped. “A date? That’s not going to help my rep.”

  Dempsey said, “I have to eat too. And I have wine.”

  She hesitated. Food and wine sounded very good. Still . . .

  “And maybe we can discuss how we plan to spend our time off.” He stood up and walked to her, reaching for her briefcase. “I’ll carry that out for you.”

  She eyed him. “You realize this contains incriminating evidence that could get you fired.”

  “I know.” His expression was serious. “I don’t expect any problems.”

  She gave him a little smile as she passed over the briefcase.

  Max smelled the intruders before he reached his apartment door. Talk about a rotten way to ruin an otherwise promising evening.

  He held a hand up to Seneca behind him and drew his gun. Silently, she placed the bag of groceries and briefcase on the floor and pulled out her weapon. He moved along the wall to the open door and noticed the busted lock. No movement inside. No sounds.

  He turned and mouthed, “Wait here,” to Seneca. She looked at him like he was crazy and shook her head.

  He mouthed, “Shifters.”