by A. C. Arthur
“You’re right,” she said when she was between his legs, her hands smoothing along his hair-coated thighs. “We can go over the plan later. Right now, first things first.”
Her breath was warm as she opened her mouth and lowered her head, licking the tip of his dick with her moist tongue.
“Right,” Dorian said, moving his hands from his length, burying his fingers in her hair, and guiding her mouth up and down. “This is definitely first.” She went down on him all the way, until it felt like his tip was touching her tonsils. He gasped, tightened his grip on her hair, and thrust his hips forward. “We’ll deal with them … after,” he continued before words were lost in the deep guttural moan of pleasure.
* * *
“We’re out of test monkeys,” Crowe stated with finality, as if his word really carried any weight in this room. “Each time we send one out, they don’t return. I don’t know what they want me to do now. There’s obviously a flaw and I can’t fix it!”
The man, the great captain of the U.S. Armed Forces, was falling apart. Sweat dotted his brow, his hands shook as he dragged them through his hair. He was pacing back and forth, threatening to wear a path in the lovely dark gray carpet that lined the rooms of the suite. It would have been funny if this human’s demise didn’t directly affect Boden’s ultimate plan.
With a resigned sigh, he smoothed a hand down the silk tie he wore. Dressing the part of a rich and influential human had become a ritual for him, the baser animalistic instincts he’d been born with still running close to the surface, however. Ready and waiting.
“The meeting is in three weeks,” he stated.
“I know,” Crowe whined. “I know. They won’t let me forget it.”
“Who will be there?”
Crowe spun around then, his lips drawn in a tight line. He wondered why Boden was asking, wondered how the man could be so calm in the face of this catastrophe. Boden knew all this and questioned why he had chosen this human to start things rolling in the first place.
“There’re all going to be there!” he yelled.
Boden sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. He raised his brows, aware of how intimidating that could be with his bald head and bushy brows. He liked that look as it cultivated the calm before the storm in his mind, the normal that layered over the beast. The low chuffing sound that emanated from his chest was the icing on the cake and had Crowe stopping, rethinking his answer.
“Every high-level defense delegate in the world will be there,” he said with a frown. “So far the Russians are making the top bid, but Pierson thinks the Chinese might have an ace up their sleeve. There’s a lot of money riding on this deal.”
“There’s a lot riding on this meeting, period,” Boden added. “Nothing can go wrong. Your hybrids have to be in place. Hundreds of them, ready to create the scene.”
“All we need is maybe fifty good ones, fresh out of the lab, to put on a show for the delegates. They’ll see what they can do without any interference and then the money will be on the table. We’ll deliver the merchandise later and to hell with what happens after they’ve taken possession. Right?” Crowe was nodding. “Okay, we can do that. Then we’ll all take our cut and get as far away from here as we can.”
The man had begun pacing again. Boden simply shook his head.
“I want hundreds of them. Five hundred to be exact,” he told him.
“No, that’s not necessary,” Crowe continued. “We just need a small amount. It’s safer that way because they’re so volatile. The more we create, the more unstable they become. Besides, I just told you I don’t have any more test subjects. Where am I supposed to get enough DNA to create five hundred more? And in three weeks no less.”
“Enough!” Boden finally raised his voice. “The stench of your panic is making me nauseous.”
He stood then, pulling out his cell phone to make a call. His teeth clenched as it rang and rang until the voice mail picked up. Boden tried another number. No answer there either.
“Dammit,” he muttered.
He’d been trying to reach Richard Cannon for over a week now and had not been successful. That bastard shifter owed Boden his life. In fact, his family owed Boden their lives considering all the heat he’d kept away from them by way of the Elders of the Gungi. One word, one note to the Elders that Cannon was taking their wayward youth and either killing them or selling them to Boden, and Cannon and his family would have been killed.
Boden had let the man live because he’d needed him. And now when that need was at its highest, the fool had the audacity to disappear. Well, that was not acceptable and Boden was about to show the shifter why it was safer for all involved to not try and swindle him. A hefty amount had been transferred into Cannon’s account just two weeks ago. The man owed him two batches of shifter children or the “test monkeys” as Crowe called them.
The debt was real and so were the consequences for attempting to double-cross him.
“Stop pacing back and forth and make yourself useful,” Boden yelled at Crowe. He walked over to the desk and picked up the hotel notepad and pen, scribbling on it as he continued to talk. “Get back to your lab and gather whatever hybrids you have left. Go to this address and bring me every breathing person in that house. Call me when the package is in hand for further instructions.”
Ripping the paper off the pad, Boden turned again to hand it to the whining captain. When the man looked at him as if appalled that Boden would send him on an assignment, Boden bared his lethally sharp teeth while thrusting the paper into Crowe’s chest.
“You got a problem taking orders, Captain Crowe?”
With shaking fingers Crowe reached up to snatch the paper away. The man’s eyes stayed fixated on Boden, too well-trained and too proud to admit he was about to shit in his pants from seeing a living, breathing, adult Shadow Shifter.
“No problem,” Crowe managed after clearing his throat. “No problem at all.”
* * *
Somebody’s in the house. They’re breaking stuff and cursing and
The first text message ended.
I think they’re going to take us
The second had come about a minute after the first and Nivea gasped, jumping out of Eli’s bed.
“What is it?” he asked, sitting up instantly.
“My sister’s texting me.”
Eli instantly fell back against the pillows, his head turning slightly to peek at the clock on the nightstand table. “At three in the morning?”
“Something’s wrong,” Nivea said, hating the feel of the words clogging in her throat. “Something’s happening.”
She was already dialing Amina’s number, hoping, no, praying that her sister would answer. When she didn’t, Nivea cursed.
“I have to go to her,” she said immediately, still clutching the phone in her hand as she moved to the chair where she’d begun stashing her clean clothes.
For the past three weeks she’d been in and out of Eli’s bed. In the last four days she’d been more in than out, and hence her clothes now occupied the recliner chair in the corner beside his dresser, her boots and tennis shoes side by side inside his closet and her toothbrush and favorite chamomile body wash in his bathroom. He hadn’t said a word about the things she’d brought into his room, no bitching and, more disconcertingly—no acknowledgment. Yet, each time she’d attempted to go back to her own room, he touched her, kissed her, convinced her that this was where she belonged. Again.
Well, tonight, she knew where she had to go, despite the words she anticipated were about to come from Eli’s lips.
“Are you crazy? You can’t drive to New York at three a.m.,” he told her, sitting up again, the sheet bunching up at his waist.
Of course he was naked beneath. Eli always slept naked and Nivea always enjoyed it. This morning, however, she was ignoring it.
“No, I’m not crazy. And yes, I can go to New York at whatever time I want if my family is in danger.” She was pulling on a shirt, foregoin
g the bra and afterward reached for a pair of sweatpants.
“Nivea, stop,” he said, touching a hand to her shoulder as she bent over to put her legs in the pants.
“No, Eli! I will not stop!” she snapped at him with a glance over her shoulder. “Something’s wrong. I can feel it. That’s why I heard the vibration of my phone. A part of me knew something was going on.”
He didn’t argue that. She knew he was thinking about Ezra and how he had sensed something was going on with him even when his brother was all the way across the country.
“Let me see the texts,” he said when she was about to push past him to get to her shoes.
“What?”
He held out a hand in front of her. “The text messages, Nivea. Let me see them.”
She frowned and thought about arguing but figured what the hell, he wasn’t going to stop her anyway. Thrusting the phone into his hand, she moved around him and finally grabbed her tennis shoes while he read.
“Who would want to take them?” he asked. “Your father is still locked up tight here.”
Nivea looked up from tying her shoes quickly. “He wouldn’t hurt them,” she said. “He promised me he wouldn’t touch them as long as I kept quiet and I didn’t tell. I didn’t tell anybody anything about what he’s doing.”
She knew she’d said too much the moment Eli’s gaze went from confused to concerned.
“Maybe now’s the time you do tell me everything,” he replied.
Nivea stood. “Eli, I don’t have time for this. I have to go save them. I have to stop them from being taken. I have to!”
He grabbed her by the shoulders, giving her a little shake until her lips snapped shut. “They’re more than four hours away from us, Nivea. Even if we leave right this second, odds are they’ve already been taken.”
She shook her head, not wanting to hear what he was saying.
“But I will do everything in my power to get them back for you,” he continued, lifting his hands up to cup her face. “I just need you to be completely honest with me about what’s going on. I can’t help if I don’t know who to fight for you.”
Her heart was pounding, her mind whirling with possibilities. She’d made a promise never to tell. Rome had found out about part of what Richard was doing on his own, not with any help from Nivea. And Richard had gotten himself caught by daring to come visit her at Havenway. She’d kept up her end of the bargain when really, she should never have had to bargain with her father for her sisters’ lives in the first place.
“I know he hurt you,” Eli continued. “I want to rip his balls off for all the pain he’s caused you, but I can see that you’re stronger than that type of revenge. You’ve beat him on all levels that he could never measure up to and for that I am most proud of you.” He leaned forward then, kissing her forehead before pulling back and resting his against hers, looking straight into her eyes.
“Tell me what he’s doing so I can stop him. I’ll get your sisters back, I promise. I just need you to trust me with the truth.”
Nivea swallowed to keep her lips from shaking and her eyes from tearing. She hated crying and hated feeling helpless. But she had to admit that being in Eli’s grasp, having him say he was proud of her and that he would do anything to help her, kind of kicked helpless in the ass.
She inhaled deeply and said, “His foundation is bogus. He gets kids from the Gungi and he either sells them on the black market or kills them straight out. He hates being a shifter and would do anything to wipe us all off the face of the earth. His investors have no idea he’s a murderer and neither do the Elders.”
“What about Comastaz? How did he become hooked up with them?” Eli asked, a muscle ticking in his jaw.
Nivea shook her head. “I don’t know. When you sent me the text with that letter from Richard to Slakeman, I had no idea what it meant. Until I saw the foundation’s logo at the top of the page. One of the dead men at the cabin had a tattoo on his wrist. The tattoo is of a snake, winding its way around anything it gets close to. It’s the logo for Richard’s foundation. It was applied to all the children they were so-called helping, all of the ones they would threaten for the rest of their lives if they ever revealed they were Shadow Shifters.”
A sharp pain coursed through her chest as she remembered seeing that same tattoo wrapping around her father’s bared back, the night everything in Nivea’s life had changed.
“When I was seventeen I found the pictures and a list of all the kids’ names in his office. He branded all of them when they were brought over with that logo. I guess this guy was one of the few that managed to grow up.”
“Yeah, he grew up and decided to get even,” Eli said. “Maybe he was the one to call the meeting at the cabin in an attempt to expose the shifters to the Feds.”
“That would have really pissed Richard off. He never wanted anyone to know about the shifters, never even accepted being one himself,” she said.
Eli nodded, feeling like pieces to this puzzle were really starting to fall into place.
“Text your sister that we’re on our way. I’ll call for some backup to go with us. Try to keep her talking if you can, but tell her to be careful.”
Nivea did as he said, didn’t hesitate and didn’t argue.
* * *
Nivea hated waiting.
Eli reached for her hand and held it. The fact that Ezra and the Sanchez brothers were standing in the truck stop parking lot looking at him only made him mildly uncomfortable. The deep, steadying breath Nivea took as a result of him holding her hand was enough to dismiss the male shifters altogether.
Amina hadn’t sent another text, but Brayden had been able to tap into her phone’s GPS.
“It’s been hours since her last text,” Nivea said, looking down at her phone again, then back up toward the road. “Maybe we should just go.”
Eli shook his head, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand. “We’ve been over this before. It makes much more sense for us to stay where we are considering Brayden’s report that the phone has crossed from New York into New Jersey. They’re heading south, so it’s not smart for us to get on the road now. We’re liable to pass them. We’re going to wait until that signal stops and then we’ll go to wherever that location is.”
“What if she’s not alive by then?” Nivea suggested, her worried gaze resting on his.
“She will be,” he told her unequivocally. “She sounds way too much like you, strong and determined. Besides, if whoever has her wanted her dead, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to send those first few texts at all. And they wouldn’t have bothered to take her cell phone with them after they’d killed her. When it’s a hit, that’s what they do—kill. And they don’t take you and your phone with them when they leave.”
“How do you know? Don’t let me find out you’re watching those true crime stories on TV, Eli.” She gave him a withering smile and he squeezed her hand, loving her attempt to evoke humor in this situation.
“They’ve stopped in Maryland,” Brayden announced. “The signal’s been stable in one spot for the last twenty minutes so I think they’ve finally stopped.”
Nivea’s eyes widened and then she nodded. “They’ve stopped. Okay, we’re going to rescue them from … who? I don’t even know who has taken them,” she said, looking up at Eli.
“Rogues maybe?” Eli replied.
“Why would rogues take them?” Brayden asked.
“Considering all that’s been going on, I think it’s safe to say everybody’s a player in this game,” Caleb added.
Ezra nodded. “That’s what I really don’t like about this situation. It’s one thing to fight one enemy, but to have two or three coming at you at once?” He shook his head. “Definitely stacks the odds against us.”
Eli rolled his head on his shoulders. “Not if they’re all connected, which I’m almost positive they are.”
“How are you so positive?” Ezra asked, giving Eli a concerned look.
> Eli took a deep breath, still not ready to share the epiphany Baxter had laid on him with anybody else just yet. Especially since his gut instinct in this regard had nothing to do with any vision he’d received. Although, while they’d been riding to the truck stop, he had thought that a vision showing him where Nivea’s sister was and who she was with would have been pretty damned convenient. But that would mean he was accepting what he’d been told about what he truly was. Eli wasn’t ready to take that leap.
“Doesn’t matter,” he told Ezra. “I’m ready for whatever and I’m not scared, are you?”
“Not on your life,” his twin replied.
“We’re ready to rock ’n’ roll,” Aidan announced.
“We should get on the road so they don’t have a lot of time to do whatever before we get there,” Nivea told them.
She was already heading toward their truck. Eli decided to simply follow her.
“Got a bossy one there, huh, little brother?” Ezra said, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked by.
Caleb and Aidan both chuckled as they moved to their designated spots, while Brayden simply shook his head.
“I know how it feels, shifter females are a handful,” he said, giving Eli a look of commiseration.
“Tell me about it,” Eli replied, climbing into the backseat beside Nivea.
Twenty minutes later Brayden, who had been keeping his eyes glued to the map on his iPad, shouted an address. Aidan, who was driving, punched it into the SUV’s GPS. Seconds later the younger shifter made a growling sound.
“What?” Caleb asked his brother.
“That address is deeded to Robert Slakeman too,” Brayden told them.
“Like I said,” Eli whispered. “It’s all connected.”
CHAPTER 17
“They’re both here,” Brayden said the moment he stepped out of the truck. “Rogues and hybrids. The stench is mixed and it’s foul as shit.”
Caleb and Aidan got out and sniffed the air, both frowning their agreement. Eli heard them from inside and scowled. He did not want her to be here, did not want her to go into that house and do what he knew would need to be done. But how could he tell her to stay behind? This was her family.
