Roman's Gold (Underground Heat, Book 1)

by Ann Gimpel

  He spooned instant coffee and sugar into a cup and poured water over it, stirring. He pulled the anonymous wrist computer he’d purchased earlier from his vest. Lots of minutes left on it. He wondered if any of his mother’s people would talk with him—assuming he could even find them. They’d gone into hiding and moved frequently. He hadn’t seen any of them, except at his mother’s funeral, since the edict went into effect.

  Devon drank some more coffee and grimaced. Even if he could reach his aunts or grandmother, they’d probably laugh and tell him it was divine justice he’d turned into one of them. He thought about calling Kate, even tapped in her number before chickening out. He sent her a text message instead. It was easier that way. If she ignored it, he’d know…

  Well, what would I know?

  That she doesn’t want anything to do with me, he answered himself.

  Devon stared at the computer’s blank display for several minutes. His heart ached. He’d hoped she’d text back. All he’d asked was if they could talk, that he had questions.

  “Guess that answers that,” he muttered and slugged back half the cup of coffee. Caffeine would help. He waited for it to jolt him out of his funk. It didn’t happen fast enough, so he drained the rest of the cup.

  He grappled for his other wrist computer to find his aunts’ and grandmother’s numbers. He thought about who was least likely to be judgmental. It occurred to him they might not believe him, might think he was playing some sort of underhanded cop trick to gather classified information. He laid both computers on the table.

  No time for a trip to San Bernardino. He’d didn’t have any vacation or sick time on the books. That took six months to accrue. He considered quitting—again. It would be the kiss of death for his law enforcement career. What career? He asked himself bitterly. I won’t have a career once they find out what I am.

  The implications of that sank in and bit deep. What he’d told Kate was true. His life had altered radically in the seconds it took for fur to sprout from his sides. Never mind the tail and claws and lengthened incisors.

  Devon clapped a hand over his mouth and bolted for the bathroom mirror. He skinned back his upper lip and inspected his eyeteeth. His eyes narrowed. They were longer, but it wasn’t that noticeable. Still, he couldn’t be a cop anymore. It would only be a matter of time before they found him out.

  His gaze roved down his body. It felt alien. Strange. Had anything else changed? With his jaw set in a hard line, he stripped off his clothes and examined himself, using the wall mirror and a handheld one for his backside. He exhaled sharply, not realizing he’d been holding his breath. Nothing else was different. Not yet, anyway.

  He flipped on the taps in the shower. May as well clean up. Some shreds of condom were stuck in his foreskin; he peeled it back to loosen them. Kate’s scent filled his nose. A wave of longing so intense it undid him made his cock spring to attention. He ignored it and stepped into the shower.

  His dick was still hard, curved against his stomach, when he turned the water off. He dried himself, hands lingering at his crotch. Finally, he gave in and leaned against the bathroom wall. He saw his reflection in the mirror as his hand closed over his shaft. He knew what he needed. His hand pumped, slowly at first, and then his grip tightened and he worked himself harder. His muscles tensed.

  Kate with all her splendid hair unbound appeared before him. She straddled him and thrust her hips against him. His breathing quickened. He was close. He imagined closing his mouth over Kate’s nipple and sucking hard. Her body writhed under him. She pushed his head lower. He strung kisses down her flat stomach and sucked on her clit. Kate’s lusty abandon unfolding behind his closed lids intensified his desire. Just a few more strokes…

  His balls tightened; his cock bucked in his hand. Semen arced out of him, splattering the floor. He came hard. It surprised him since he’d just come a few hours before. After all, at thirty-eight he was well past the age when he’d gone around with a perpetual hard-on and could come half a dozen times a day.

  Panting hard, he opened his eyes and grabbed a towel to clean up the mess. It slipped out of his hand. He bent to retrieve it and glanced downward. Shit! No wonder he’d dropped the towel. He didn’t have hands anymore. Paws with fur and claws mocked him. He looked at his belly; a line of fur gathered at his groin. It moved upward as he stared at himself.

  Kate did this to him. Emotions made him shift. He straightened. Bile rose, filling his mouth with a sour taste. He stood frozen in place, waiting. What the fuck? I’m just standing here like a goddamned idiot. There’s got to be something I can do. Something proactive—

  His wrist computer chimed … the regular one. He had no idea what the black market computer even sounded like. He made a dash for the kitchen and snapped it up awkwardly. “Heartshorn.”

  “We have a situation.” His captain’s voice was sharp with urgency. “Know it’s your day off, but we need everyone we can scare up.”

  Devon opened his mouth to say he was quitting, but his captain started talking again. “Need you at Market and Fifth. Wear your body armor and riot gear.”

  “What happened?” In spite of himself, Devon was back in cop mode. His gaze swept over his body. He was human again. Maybe, if he caught the shift soon enough…

  “The lab we use was robbed. Whoever planned this was a pro. Staged a riot and used it as cover. That part of things is still going strong. Good thing you’re done with your treatments. Some scumbag stole every drop of our stock. It takes a while to make.”

  Devon’s instincts went on high alert. He didn’t know for certain, but he suspected Kate had something to do with the robbery. Shifters would want the advantage the drug gave them. Hell, if it pushed him over the edge, who knew what it would do to a fully vetted shifter? Plus, they could use it to swell their ranks with people like him.

  “You still there, Heartshorn?”

  “Yup. Still here. On my way, Captain.”

  He dressed as fast as he could, given all the layers he had to put on. Devon was disgusted with himself for not just quitting, but it went against the grain. Fellow officers’ lives were on the line. The least he could do was help.

  He’d just buckled his laser gun belt into place when his other computer squawked like a dying chicken. He glanced at the display. His eyes widened. A jolt of joy rocked him. Kate. She’d texted him back. Call now. I’m home. Sorry. Didn’t look at w.c. earlier.

  He brought up a submenu and punched redial. Even though he hadn’t actually called before, the computer held a record of the number he’d texted to. She picked up on the first ring. “Devon?” She sounded tentative, wary.

  “Yeah, it’s me. I have lots of questions and not very much time.”

  “Okay. I’ll help if I can.”

  “When I left you, I got really sick—”

  “It’s probably gone now,” she interrupted. “Happens to all of us the first time we shift. Sorry. Didn’t think to warn you. Frankly, I was just as surprised as you by what happened. Wasn’t thinking all that straight.”

  “I got called in. I’m on my way to quell a riot downtown. Is there anything I can do to keep from shifting?”

  “There are … warning signs. They’re subtle and you might not notice them, but your hearing and sense of smell become more acute.” She hesitated. “I’m guessing you have at least some shifter magic. We all have it. It will take time to teach you to manipulate it, but—”

  “Kate.” He heard desperation in his voice and tried to modulate it. “I really am rushed. If I notice my senses getting sharper, what do I do?”

  “Visualize your human body. Anchor yourself to it.”

  “How? It’s like you’re speaking another language. Look, I’m sorry to bother you. I thought about calling my mother’s family, but I figured they’d just spit in my face. You’re the only other shifter I know.”

  A sigh jangled through the cellular system. “The best thing would be for me to show you some things. They’re almost impossible
to describe.”

  He checked the time. “I’m not sure when I’ll be done working. Depends how bad things are and I won’t know until I get there. If I can get free in two or three hours, where can I find you?”

  There was a long silence. So long he checked the display to make certain they were still connected. “I’m not certain it’s wise to tell you where I live. I’m paranoid enough about cops trapping me here—”

  His heart constricted, but he understood her need for self-preservation. “Don’t blame you. Gotta run. I won’t bother you again.”

  “Wait!”

  He moved the finger poised above the end call icon.

  “Text me when you get free. I’ll meet you at my office.”

  A warm glow started in his belly. Maybe she cared about him after all—at least a little. “Thanks, Kate.”

  She laughed. “Hope I live long enough to not regret this. Um, Devon.”

  “Yes?”

  “You can’t dance on both sides of the street. It won’t work, at least not for very long.”

  The phone icon blinked out on the display. She’d ended the call. He glanced at his hand, horrified to see fur and claws again. Not as bad as in the bathroom, but obvious enough if anyone were looking at him. Strong emotions… Even if she didn’t care about him, he cared about her. A whole lot, from the looks of things. He took a deep breath, blew it out, and inhaled a second time. He visualized himself as human, human, human, goddamn it. The next time he looked at his hand, it was skin and nails again.

  “Well, hey,” he murmured. “That wasn’t so bad. If I can just keep track of my body, maybe I can fake my way through this riot.” Her words about dancing on both sides of the street bounced in his head. He shoved them aside and hurried out the door. Adrenaline hummed through his blood. He loved fighting bad guys. It was the best part of being a cop.

  An unpleasant thought intruded as he got into his patrol vehicle. At least according to the governmental directive about shifters, he’d just changed sides.

  And become the enemy he’d taken an oath to eradicate.

  *

  Kate stared at the wrist computer display. Her stomach tied itself into a knot. She didn’t have good feelings about what Devon was trying to do. He was living his old life, not yet understanding it wasn’t possible. Some shifters had tried to be double agents at the front end of the purge against them. It hadn’t worked. As far as she knew, they’d all been caught and killed.

  “It’s the same thing you’re doing,” her cat snarled. “Denying reality. He’s denying what he is now and you’re denying he’s our mated one.”

  “Jesus Christ! Whose side are you on? Don’t we have enough problems without your nattering on about ‘mated one, mated one?’”

  “I’m on our side.” The cat’s voice was smug.

  Kate blew out a worried breath. She’d heard about the riot. It had been on the screens mounted all around the bus. She’d used her wrist computer to tap into the frequency and listened for a while.

  According to the broadcaster, some terrorist group had broken into a government lab, using the riot for cover. No sketches of the terrorists were available, but people were advised to stay home, lock their doors, and not open them unless they were certain they knew who was outside. Traffic had been rerouted, so it had taken her longer than usual to get home.

  Kate’s wrist computer LED blinked red. The underground frequency. Blinking red meant she should turn her desktop computer to the underground’s secure channel. Far from an electronics whiz, she didn’t totally understand why the vid feed could be scrambled more effectively than the wrist computer, but she mounted the stairs to her bedroom and study.

  Her house wasn’t large, but it was cozy. The main floor held a generous living room with a stone fireplace and picture windows with leaded glass panes. An old-fashioned kitchen with a real stove and room for a small oak dinette sat off to one side. The upstairs had a wonderful bathroom with a claw foot tub in addition to her sleeping and work space. Tubs like hers weren’t legal anymore. They used too much water, but so far, the city hadn’t done a door-to-door inspection.

  She waved a hand over her computer to move it from sleep to wake mode. The wall screen flickered to life. Max had already begun talking.

  “…thanks to one of our operatives, we now have access to a substance which may well enhance our powers. Stupid of the government to centralize everything.” Max laughed harshly and waved a dismissive hand. “Made it easy to locate our objective. Our scientists are working on determining its relative safety. They’ve fast-tracked this project. We should have answers in a day or so. Do not go far from your terminals. We may need to call each of you into headquarters for an injection. Alert your mixed blood kin—but only if you are one hundred percent positive they can be trusted. If what we have pans out, it could turn them into valuable allies. Keep the faith. We may prevail.”

  The screen grayed out. Kate laid a hand over her chest. Her heart pounded. I’ll be damned… She couldn’t believe how quickly Max gathered a team to storm the lab. She was practically certain he’d acted on the information she gave him.

  She walked into the bathroom, cleared the potted flowers she used for a convenient excuse why she hadn’t sent her bathtub to the recycling plant, and flipped on the taps. No one at the city would be monitoring water usage tonight. They’d all be too spun out over their lab being pilfered.

  She pulled off her top and unbuttoned her jeans. Naked, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Red welts from Devon’s teeth and claws rolled over one shoulder. The corners of her mouth spread into a feral grin. What a hottie he was. She’d never seen a more sensual shifter. His human and animal forms were damn near perfect—

  “I told you. He’s our mated one.”

  “You’re relentless. Could you stay out of my thoughts long enough to let me take a bath?”

  “No. I’m afraid you’ll let him get away.”

  Kate stepped into the steaming water and, once seated, sank into it. Her shoulder stung when the water touched her abraded flesh. Devon. She shut her eyes and shook her head, so worried her throat tightened. If things got away from him and his hands turned into paws, or worse, his face developed a decided feline cast, the other police officers would probably shoot him on the spot.

  She slammed her hands on the water’s surface. Some sloshed onto the tile floor. Relaxing in the tub had seemed like a good idea, but it wasn’t working. She sprang from the water, wrapped a towel around herself, and trotted into the bedroom to check her wrist computer. Maybe he’d texted her and she hadn’t heard it.

  “Stop.” She spoke out loud. “Just stop. It hasn’t even been an hour since he and I talked.”

  Her human form chafed. Tonight it felt unnatural. Kate shifted. Her claws sank into the nap of the Oriental rug. She wanted to claw at it, to shred it until nothing was left. Instead, she shook herself from whiskers to tail tip and padded downstairs. Drawing invisibility about herself, she closed two claws around the back door knob and slithered outside. Once she made the forest’s edge, she dropped her illusion and ran hard uphill until her flanks heaved and her tongue lolled. When she couldn’t run anymore, she raked her claws down a thick aspen trunk.

  Kate lay in the debris of the forest floor, panting. At least her emotions were under control. Satisfied she wouldn’t make a stupid mistake, she loped toward her house. Near the city streets, she shifted, resurrected invisibility to hide her nakedness, and let herself back inside her kitchen door.

  She ran upstairs to check her wrist computer. Yes! He’d texted. With nimble fingers which only shook a little she texted him back, grabbed her discarded clothes, and threw them on. She hoped her car started. It was weeks since she’d driven it.

  Chapter 8

  Devon set his laser pistol on stun and fired it in a half circle. Things had been a mess when he’d left his patrol car triple parked and waded into the thick of things. With the help of a couple other men from the elite Tracker
force, he’d managed to herd the cops into one quadrant. It gave them all a clear shot at the rioters.

  Almost as if they understood they were toast, the remaining few hundred demonstrators faded into the night in groups of twos and threes. The only ones left lay prone on the asphalt. Devon wasn’t worried about them. The meat wagon could pick them up. Maybe after a few days in a group cell with real criminals, they wouldn’t be so quick to sign on for a rebellion. Unless they were shifters, then they’d be dead…

  He swallowed hard and glanced surreptitiously at his hands. Thank Christ they looked normal.

  “Hey, Heartshorn.” A cop he vaguely recognized slugged him in the arm.

  “Yeah?” He quirked a brow. “Looks like we’re about done here. I’m going home.”

  “Uh—you got a minute?” The other man, Tanaka, looked uncomfortable. Shorter than Devon with a bullet-shaped body, his black hair was cut short. Almond eyes and high cheekbones made him look like a sumo wrestler.

  Devon’s gut tightened. “Sure. But make it snappy. I’m on at zero eight hundred tomorrow morning. It’s gonna be a short night.”

  Tanaka beckoned to him and walked a few paces away. He looked over a shoulder to make certain Devon was following, and then faded into the shadows of an alleyway. Once Devon caught up, he turned off his microphone and gestured for Devon to do the same.

  Devon clicked off his mike. “This is against regulations, Tanaka. Whatever it is better be good.”

  The other man dropped his gaze. “No easy way to say this. You had all those infusions just like me. Have you, ah, noticed anything odd?”

  Devon was used to masking his emotions. Good thing, too. If Tanaka were a friend, answering might have been a struggle. As things stood, he didn’t even blink. “Like what?”

  “My hearing’s so sharp it gives me a headache. Everything stinks. And I’ve had dreams…”

  Devon dredged up a grin. “The drug was supposed to enhance our sense of smell.” He shrugged. “Bet you can smell me since I have some shifter blood. Lots of us do.”