Shifter Wars (Mind Sweeper Series Book 3)

by AE Jones

  “He’s a good-lookin’ fella, huh?” He scratched Booger’s chin. “We are trying to decide on a name. Do you want to add one?”

  “Princess?”

  “Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s a boy.”

  “I’ve got it. How about Mr. Poopsie or Sir Poops-a-lot?”

  The cat’s eyes narrowed on mine.

  C.J. chuckled. “I don’t think so. You can vote on one of the other choices.”

  “No problem. I better get to work on the invoices.” I returned to the reception area, reaching for my nonexistent Zen as I went. This was Griffin’s doing, I was sure of it. Here I had complimented him for not being a Neanderthal, and then he sends in a ringer. Damn.

  I plopped down into my chair and booted up the computer. When I opened the system directory, I noticed a file folder titled “Mark B.” It had to be Brennan’s file. I opened it to see if there was any helpful information. I didn’t know what I’d expected to find. It wasn’t as if the file would have any data about his side business as a poacher. I clicked it closed and went to work.

  Half an hour later, Bruce and Ken came up front. Ken ignored me and walked over to the coffee pot.

  Bruce leaned against the desk. “How’s it going?”

  “Fine. Quick question, though. Have I met everyone? ’Cause I found an invoice file named Mark B. Is he on vacation or something?”

  Bruce frowned. “Mark used to work here. Last summer he quit with no notice.”

  “That’s weird. Was he flaky?”

  “No, he worked for me for two years. I’m not sure what happened. He asked for some vacation time and then he never came back.”

  “Did you call the cops?”

  Ken turned and glared at me.

  “I had talked about it, but then Mark called Ken and said he wasn’t coming back.”

  “Why didn’t he call you?” I asked, in spite of Ken’s Death Ray glare.

  “Not sure.” Bruce looked at Ken. “Did he ever say what the deal was?”

  Ken shook his head. What an amazing conversationalist.

  Bruce kept talking. “Mark was pretty quiet. He would go for drinks with the rest of the guys after work sometimes, but otherwise he kept to himself.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry or anything.”

  “No problem.”

  Bruce went back to his desk, and Ken walked away without saying a word. I took a moment to go over the story in my head. It just didn’t add up. Ken was lying. Jean Luc’s voice in my ear confirmed my suspicions. “Dead men do not make phone calls.”

  When five o’clock rolled around, I shut off my computer, put on my coat, and hurried to the back garage. Ken, Bill, and C.J. were huddled together talking, and they stopped conspicuously when I walked toward them.

  C.J. gave me a guilty smile. “Can I help you with something?”

  I pointed to Booger, who was circling his legs. “I was coming back to volunteer to take the cat home for the night. It probably isn’t a good idea to leave him in here by himself. He might get into trouble.”

  “Didn’t think of that.” C.J. crouched down and scratched Booger’s chin. “My apartment building doesn’t allow animals.”

  I smiled. “I can take him. I’ll bring him back tomorrow.” I reached down and scooped him up. He mewled pathetically at me. Hambone. I rubbed under his chin. “Is something wrong, boy? Do you need a trip to the vet?”

  His yellow eyes widened, and he tried to jump from my grip. I clamped my hands down on him and turned, calling over my shoulder. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  I walked out the front door, and as soon as we were outside, Booger started struggling in earnest. I leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Keep this up, and I’ll have you neutered.”

  He stopped struggling. Jason drove up and leaned over, opening the door for me. I jumped in and shut the door, setting the fur ball in the middle of the seat.

  Jason smirked. “So this is Booger?”

  “Yeah.” I growled. “Let’s go meet with Jean Luc and Misha. We need to pay Griffin a visit.”

  A high pitched meow echoed through the truck.

  Chapter 17

  After I had taken some calming breaths and Booger and I had transferred from Jason’s truck to the van, I wasn’t seeing red anymore. It had calmed down to an intense shade of pink. Jason had bowed out of attending the festivities. Jean Luc drove silently toward Griffin’s estate. Misha sat in the front passenger seat and, other than turning around every five minutes to glare at Booger, refrained from speaking as well. The only one in the van who didn’t seem fazed was Booger himself, who had curled up in a ball and gone to sleep. Little shit.

  The silence was fine with me. It allowed me to rehearse my speech to Griffin. The first draft had been full of expletives, so I was busily working on another version when we arrived. Booger lifted his head and then stood, arching his back. His claws came out and would have dug into the leather of the rental van if Misha hadn’t growled from the front seat. Fortunately, claws were retracted without any damage to the seat or the cat.

  I picked up Booger and lugged him to the front door, with Misha and Jean Luc bringing up the rear. I rang the bell, and it was only a few seconds before Stephanie answered.

  “Kyle, Misha, and Jean Luc—it’s good to see you.” She looked at my face, and her smile slipped a little. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” I didn’t want to freak her out more than she already was about Trina’s safety. “We’re here to see Griffin.”

  She stepped back and let us in. “What’s with the cat?”

  “Don’t you mean shifter?” I asked.

  She hesitated for a moment. “No. I don’t sense shifter.”

  I nodded so emphatically I almost dropped the cat. “This is Matthew Johnson. He can mask his shifter self from most paranormals. Jean Luc and Misha can’t sense him either.”

  Stephanie’s eyes widened slightly. “I know Matthew. I’ve never seen him in his cat form before, though. If this is Matthew, he is very good.”

  I glared down into his smug, furry face. He squeezed his eyes shut and purred.

  “Where’s Griffin?” I growled.

  “He’s out but should be back shortly.” Stephanie smiled at Misha. “There are some cookies just out of the oven, if you’d like some.”

  I didn’t even bother looking into Misha’s puppy dog eyes. “Go on and get some, Mish. I’ll wait here for the Shifter King to arrive.” I turned to Jean Luc. “Why don’t you go with him and keep him out of trouble?”

  I sat down on the stairs and plopped Booger in my lap. A kernel of doubt crept into my brain. What if this was just a cat? What if I was becoming a paranoid lunatic? I petted his head a couple times, just in case it wasn’t Booger and I owed this poor, displaced cat an apology.

  After a few seconds, Trina came racing down the stairs toward me. “Kyle!”

  “Take it easy, Trina, remember what happened the last time.”

  She grinned and sat next to me on the stairs. “Why is Matthew sitting on your lap, is he sick?”

  Booger squirmed from my hold and ran out of the room.

  “How did you know it was Matthew?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just did. Mom made some cookies. Do you want some?”

  “Not right now. You better hurry and get some, though, ’cause Misha is already in the kitchen.”

  “Oh no. See you later.”

  I laughed as she hurried through the hall. Even a twelve-year-old had Misha’s number.

  I ran my hand over the smooth banister, down the carved spindles of the maple staircase…and waited. A couple minutes later, the door opened, and Griffin walked in with Stephen and Tim. He caught sight of me immediately…probably smelled me first…and smiled. I did not smile back.

  Griffin spoke, “Gentlemen, if you will excuse us for a few minutes.”

  They walked away, and he held out his hand.

  “Would you like me to hang up your coat?”


  I pulled the coat tighter around me like a shield. “I won’t be staying long.”

  He simply shrugged and led me to his office.

  He had barely shut the door before I hissed. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Good evening, Kyle.”

  “Don’t give me that. Why did Matthew show up today at the body shop?”

  Griffin walked around and sat behind his desk. “I thought it made sense to have someone on the inside with you.”

  It was probably a good idea he had put space and a large wooden desk between us. “I don’t need your protection.”

  “This isn’t just about protection.”

  I glared at him to continue.

  “Matthew is a valuable asset to this undercover operation. He can listen in on conversations the others will not have in front of you.”

  “I’m doing fine on my own! Today, I asked about Mark Brennan and got some information about him. One of the other mechanics lied about talking to him. Now I just need to figure out why.”

  Griffin picked up a letter opener from his desk and examined it before answering me. “Let’s ask Matthew if he overheard anything which might be of help to you.”

  As if in answer to a summons, Matthew came loping into the room with a sheepish grin. At least he wasn’t naked. After transforming back to human, he had dressed in jeans and a cable knit sweater. Misha and Jean Luc strolled in behind him.

  Matthew flashed me the peace sign before speaking. “I was under orders, Kyle.”

  I took a step toward him and he flinched slightly.

  “You’re not carrying Stanley, are you?”

  Griffin’s eyebrow rose in question, so I enlightened him. “It’s the name of my .9 millimeter.”

  The corner of Griffin’s mouth quirked up slightly, but he didn’t actually smile. “Did you hear or see anything interesting today?” he asked Matthew.

  “I overheard Ken talking. He doesn’t like that you were asking questions about Mark Brennan. He thinks you’re too nosy.”

  “Well, I think he’s an antisocial ass, so we’re even.”

  Griffin interrupted. “Did he say anything specific about poachers or shifters?”

  “No, but he is acting jumpy, and now he’s suspicious of Kyle. It’s a good thing I’m there to observe him.”

  I gestured to Misha and Jean Luc. “Guys, stand up for me here.”

  Misha spoke with his mouth full of cookie. “I agree with them, Kyle.”

  “You’ve been brainwashed with snickerdoodles. Your vote doesn’t count. Jean Luc?”

  “I would feel better having Matthew with you as well. The more quickly we can learn what we need to know about the poachers, the better for everyone involved.”

  Leave it to Jean Luc to be all practical. Which was what it came down to. This was about Trina’s safety, not my pride. But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t make Griffin suffer for it.

  “Fine. He can stay. But I call the shots. Be at the office tomorrow at noon. We’ll go from there to the body shop.”

  Matthew saluted me. “Yes, ma’am!” He then turned on his heel and marched smartly out of the room.

  Misha laughed until he caught sight of my face.

  “Guys, can you give me a moment alone with Griffin?”

  Jean Luc and Misha exchanged a cryptic look before walking out of the room. I shut the door behind them. When I turned around, Griffin had moved from behind the desk and was now leaning on the front. I stepped toward him.

  “I want to let you know you didn’t win this fight.”

  “I know.”

  I glowered at him. “I’m doing this for Trina, not you.”

  “I know that, too.”

  He was being awfully agreeable. “So you will not interfere any further in the investigation?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Damn it! If you don’t trust me, then why did you bring me back here?”

  He stood and took a step so he was within inches of me. “I trust you, Kyle. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you. I never let any of my people go into a tough situation alone.”

  “I’m not one of your people.”

  He reached up and ran his hand along my jaw. “I am very aware of that.”

  I gulped in a very unladylike manner and blinked before staring into his green eyes. For a split second I could have sworn his pupils flared amber. I blinked again, and his eyes were normal. I took a step back.

  “I better go find Misha and Jean Luc.” I rushed out of the room, not waiting for his response. But then, I probably wouldn’t have heard it anyway since a voice in my head was clucking like a chicken.

  * * *

  The drive back from Griffin’s was painfully silent. After running out of his office, I found Misha and Jean Luc in the front hall, whispering. About what, I didn’t know at first, until they stopped talking when I got within two feet of them. I wasn’t sure why I had become the topic of conversation. Misha actually stammered guiltily when he asked me if I was ready to go.

  Now I sat in the back of the van trying to sort out my feelings. Why did I act like a teenager whenever I was around Griffin? When he had touched my face, I’d wanted to lean into his touch, but I had frozen and backed away instead.

  Misha cleared his throat, and I looked up to see him staring at me like a specimen under a microscope. This could not be good.

  “What’s up?”

  “We want to talk to you.”

  Jean Luc slowed and turned into the empty parking lot of an office building.

  This really could not be good. “About?”

  Misha glanced at Jean Luc who nodded. Misha maneuvered out of the front bucket seat and sat next to me in the back. “We’re worried about you and want you to know we’re here for you.”

  My heart clenched. “I know.”

  He reached for my hand and squeezed it. “We wanted to talk to you because we don’t want to see you continue down a destructive path.”

  What? My mouth gaped open. “Oh, my God, Misha. Are you staging an intervention?”

  “No…well…yes. You’re running away again, little one.”

  I gritted my teeth before responding. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Jean Luc chimed in. “We know how hard it was for you to lose Dalton. But we don’t want you to close yourself off to new opportunities.”

  Misha nodded emphatically. “By opportunities, he means Griffin.”

  “I know what he means, Mish.”

  “Well, it just seems like there is a lot of chemistry between the two of you. And if you do decide to explore it, that would be okay.”

  Jean Luc added, “But only when you are ready, ma petite.”

  I squeezed Misha’s hand and reached over to touch Jean Luc’s shoulder. “Got it.”

  Chapter 18

  Jean Luc gave me The Look. The one which announced, “I have something profound to say.” But I ignored him and went to my office. I was becoming the queen of avoidance, and after the intervention they staged on me yesterday, I wasn’t sure I could handle any more. After a few minutes of self-imposed exile, I wasn’t surprised when I glanced up to see Jean Luc standing in the doorway.

  I sighed. “Come on in and spill it, oh Wise One.”

  He smiled one of his rare smiles and sat across from me. “I knew you were avoiding me.”

  I frowned slightly. “Are you using your vampy senses on me?” Since biting me last year, Jean Luc had been able to sense my feelings, and I didn’t enjoy being an open book to him.

  He shook his head. “I have known you for ten years. I don’t need to read you.”

  Relaxing, I rocked in my chair. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “Did we not cover this last night?”

  “This isn’t about Griffin. I never felt it was my place to ask what happened between you and Nicholas, but after seeing you with him yesterday, I think it is time we discuss it.”

&nbs
p; Looking down at my desk, I weighed my options. Last summer, the last thing I had wanted to do was to drag Jean Luc and Misha into my battle with Nicholas. But now I decided the truth was in order. “When Dalton was hurt last year, I wanted to erase the memories of his torture. Nicholas didn’t think it would save him. He demanded I erase all of Dalton’s memories, but when I fought him on it…” I hesitated.

  Jean Luc leaned forward. “What happened, Kyle?”

  “Nicholas told me Dalton wouldn’t be safe unless I erased everything. Otherwise, the supernatural community would take care of it.”

  His jaw clenched. Jean Luc normally suppressed his emotions, and until that moment, I had not understood why. He was livid, and energy thundered off of him in waves. It overwhelmed my small office space. I almost pushed my chair away from the desk, but thought it more prudent to hold still. I could barely make out his next words.

  “Did he threaten you?”

  “No, just Dalton.”

  “Why did you not come to us?”

  I gazed into his dark eyes. “Because I was pretty sure you and Misha would fight him, and then what? We trigger a supernatural civil war? I couldn’t ask you to do that. And how would we protect Dalton twenty-four hours a day?”

  “We would have done it for you in a heartbeat.”

  I reached for his hand across the desk. “I know you would have, and that’s why I love you both. But I didn’t know if partially erasing Dalton’s memories would have saved him anyway. I couldn’t risk both of you on a what-if.”

  The tension lessened in his face. “You should not have had to struggle with this alone.”

  “I took the coward’s way out last year and ran off to Nevada. It was my choice, but I’m sorry if I hurt you by leaving.”

  “You are not a coward, Kyle. Just a very stubborn human.”

  I smiled at him. “Thanks. Please tell me I don’t have to bare my soul to Misha right now, too. I don’t think I can handle it.”

  “I will talk to him for you. But I cannot promise to keep him in check.”