Dead Zone (Blue-Eyed Bomb Book 3)

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  “Because they can fight legally, without consequence. It’s a good way to keep the peace without getting on our radar,” Nico replied, “at least until someone dies.” He turned to look at Alek, a question brewing in his expression. “What did you get, Alek? Anything from the murderer?”

  “Murderer sounds harsh, Nico,” I said. “They were fighting. There’s still a chance that something just went wrong.”

  He pinned deadly black eyes on me, his irises looking like his pupils had swallowed them whole.

  “And there’s also a possibility that this was the intended outcome, which is why I’m asking Alek, who actually feels what the other party felt, what that Sully kid had coursing through him when he knocked Ward down for the final time.”

  I looked to Alek, my more reasonable, mild-tempered brother, for his insight. His empath abilities were strong, like mine. If there was something to glean from the attacker, he’d know what. His expression was pinched with confusion, his brows knit together as he considered Nico’s question.

  “He was angry. He wanted to hurt the victim. But his intentions weren’t clear. That anger felt warranted, given the way his opponent taunted him.”

  “That’s it?” Nico asked, not bothering to hide his irritation.

  “There was something—something right before he landed the killing blow. A surge of something I can’t place. Possibly adrenaline. I know little of how humans function, and since that’s essentially what he was in that moment, there’s no way for me to know for sure. He wasn’t going down without a fight. That much was clear.”

  I turned to Nico. “We can’t sign his death warrant with this.”

  “Nor can we grant him a pardon,” he countered, his eyes having blended to a forest green—a happy medium between the emerald green they normally were and the black they became when he was angered.

  “So what do we do?”

  He sighed, his frustration plain. “We will have to let him go for now. Alek and I will look into what happened between them that led to this showdown. Maybe if we can figure that out, we can determine whether he had enough motive to be punished for this crime.”

  “Accident,” I said. “We need to call it an accident for now. He’ll be more at ease if he thinks we’re off his back, right? Maybe he’ll slip up and you’ll be able to nail him for Ward’s death.”

  Nico smiled at me with pride. “You’re learning.”

  I returned his expression. “I have a good teacher.”

  “We should leave TS to clean this up and do whatever else he needs to do to the witnesses.” Nico started toward the back door with Alek following close behind.

  “I’ll meet you out front,” I said, heading in the opposite direction.

  “Good idea. We need to keep your identity as secret as possible. It may prove to be an asset.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  I pushed the heavy industrial door open and stepped out into the night, its cloudy sky creating a dull grey glow above. The fresh air smelled amazing, erasing the tang of sweat and death that had coated the inside of my nose. I was happy to eclipse it with something else. I took a deep breath, staring off at the distant buildings, their bright lights creating a miniature galaxy. Then a pair of headlights grabbed my attention. The car turned around in the lot adjacent to the fight club then sped off, its taillights resembling angry red eyes as it disappeared. With the light of the moon, I was able to get the make and model of the car—and possibly the color—but only a partial plate. Maybe it was nothing, but I didn’t like the feeling that whoever was driving it had been spying. Prying eyes were exactly what we didn’t need, especially if those eyes happened to be human.

  And there was no way someone just happened to be in that area at that time of night for no reason.

  Before I could think about it too long, the boys came around the front of the building, ready to head home.

  “Where’s TS?” I asked as Nico and Alek approached.

  “Talking to Muses. They’re deciding how to handle things.”

  “Shutting down the fight club is a double-edged sword,” Alek said. “Since Ward’s death appears to be an accident—at least on the surface—closing the club could cause problems that we’d rather avoid.”

  “I see…”

  “Let’s go,” Nico said, opening the driver’s side door. “It’s late—”

  “You mean early.” My correction was not appreciated, given the look on his face.

  “I’m tired. I want to go to bed.”

  “You are such a bitch about your beauty sleep,” I said with a laugh. That comment didn’t go over well either.

  “And you’re a bitch without it, so let’s go.”

  Alek just shook his head at us and opened the door for me to climb into the back seat. Nico made me nuts, but I adored him. He was about the only person, other than Muses, willing to call me out on my shit. Everyone needed a person in their life like that—even if it wasn’t always appreciated at the time.

  Together we rode back into town, discussing the plan to look into Sully’s and Ward’s lives. Muses would be able to fill in the blanks about the former, but the latter was on us. If we wanted to figure out if there was motive for his death, we’d have to do it the good old-fashioned way—investigate.

  And my investigation would start with identifying the fleeing car.

  Chapter Three

  Once we got back, all I wanted to do was take a shower. A nice, long, hot shower to wash away the stench of the fight club and my indecision about Sully’s guilt. Everything about his demeanor said it had been an accident, from the pallor of his skin to the curtain of fear that hung around him. If he’d really meant to kill Ward, why do it there? Why so publicly? Nothing about it made sense to me.

  And yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that it might have been a premeditated crime.

  With a sigh, I drew my vintage tee up over my head and threw it on the pile of clothes overtaking the corner of the room. I reached behind my back to unhook my bra and started to pull it down my arms when someone knocked on my door. Before I could even get a word out, the door-knocker proceeded to come in.

  “Hey!” I shouted as TS appeared from behind the door. His eyes went wide before he turned away, standing just inside the room with his back to me.

  “I’m sorry. I should have waited.”

  “Why bother knocking if you’re not going to wait in the first place?” I muttered to myself as I hooked my bra closed and fixed the straps. “Okay. You can turn around now.”

  He did so without hesitation. He stared into my eyes, avoiding my chest at all costs, but said nothing. Whatever he’d come barreling in to talk to me about seemed to have escaped his mind.

  “So?” I asked, trying to draw the information from him. “What’s so important that you practically tore the door off the hinges to come tell me?”

  “Finish getting dressed and I’ll tell you.”

  “Seriously, TS? Are my boobs that distracting?”

  “There is no good answer to that question,” he replied. “If I say yes, I’m a man who can’t control himself. If I say no, you’ll be offended.”

  “See? You can talk, so just tell me what you came here to tell me.” His eyes drifted to a stray shirt on my floor and then back to me. I didn’t like being told what to do, and TS knew that better than anyone. Why he was hell-bent on me getting dressed was beyond me. And yeah, he was right. I was a little offended. But two could play that game. “Maybe you should take your shirt off too, if you’re so uncomfortable.” I folded my arms in front of my stomach and quirked my brow at him.

  The gauntlet had been thrown.

  He exhaled hard, probably annoyed with my little game, but as far as I was concerned, he’d earned the runaround I was giving him. Seconds later, his jacket was tossed onto my bed, followed by his shirt. I tried to do as stellar a job as he had keeping his eyes pinned on mine, but I failed. Damn, that man was built.

  “Better?” he asked, sounding all
business. It would have worked were it not for the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  I guess my staring had earned his amusement.

  “I wasn’t the one with the issue in the first place,” I countered, pleased with myself. “So what’s up?”

  “Your father called. He’s sending Trey to get me now. He did not give specifics, but I think I’ll be gone for a while.”

  “Okay.”

  He was silent for a beat. “I think I should tell him about the Meiren situation—that he knew who you were.”

  Oh. Shit.

  That conversation would not end well for TS, and I knew it. His job had been to wipe any evidence of what I’d done to Little Church off the face of the Earth. If he’d failed, my father’s wrath would be mighty, especially given that his failure had led to my captivity and my attempted murder at Meiren’s hands—all facts that TS would share with my father. Meiren, the mind-controlling vampire father of the boy I’d nuked a town over, was dead now, but that wouldn’t appease the head of the Patronus Ceteri.

  My father was notoriously temperamental about my safety.

  “TS, please don’t. You know he’s not going to take that well.” Understatement of the century.

  “I’m aware of that, Phira. I failed him. He shouldn’t take it well.”

  “It’s not your fault. We still don’t know how Meiren knew about me—”

  “Nobody should have known,” TS countered, taking a step closer. My heart beat a little faster. “I want to speak to your father about how to proceed.”

  “Does it matter now? You can’t undo what was done. And the world is going to know about me sooner or later. My anonymity is going to erode slowly the longer I’m in Chicago. I can’t do my part in the shadows, TS.”

  “But if my oversight is a risk to your safety—”

  “Then Nyx will start nuking shit. You don’t have to protect me.”

  His chest heaved as he took calming breaths.

  “Phira—”

  “No, TS. I mean it. If you want to figure out how he knew about me, I’m all for it, but leave my dad out of it. Nothing good will come of telling him.”

  TS looked torn. His body was coiled with frustration, both at himself and me, but he kept it under wraps. With a few more deep breaths, most of it disappeared. His hazel eyes studied mine as he stood before me, his dark olive-brown skin flawless and begging me to touch it. I’d never really noticed how smooth it was; how unmarred, even after years of fighting for the PC. Probably centuries.

  “Phira.” His voice was gentler this time, as if he thought that approach might sway my decision.

  “TS.”

  He sighed, signaling his surrender. “I will contact you once I know what is needed of me.” He turned to my bed to gather his things. “Will you do me a favor in my absence?”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  “The werewolf…Jenkins.”

  “Yeah?” I replied, concerned about where his request might be headed. “What about him?”

  “You need to use your gifts to discern which side of this he’s on.”

  I hesitated. “You think he’s involved in Ward’s death somehow? That would be suicide, TS. He’s a lone wolf. If he played any part in that, he’d have an entire pack raining pain down on him just to make a statement. Maybe two of them.”

  “Be that as it may, I want your take on him. Can you do that for me?”

  “Sure,” I replied, confusion tainting my voice, “I’ll figure it out first thing tomorrow and report back.”

  “Excellent.” He stalked toward the bedroom door and hovered next to it, his back to me. “I don’t want to say this, but I feel I must,” he said, pausing for a moment. His tightening grip on the doorknob made it creak in protest. “Be careful, Phira. I know you have Nyx—that you no longer need me—but don’t rely too heavily on her. I cannot get a sense of Jenkins, and I don’t like it. I fear he may be good at hiding things.”

  “I can handle him. I promise.”

  He looked over his shoulder at me and offered a sad smile.

  “I will hold you to that.”

  With the weight of his words hanging in the air between us, he drew the door closed, leaving me alone with the mounting questions in my mind. Was Ward’s death an accident? Why couldn’t TS get a read on Jenkins? And why was my heart still racing when I thought about the half-naked being that had just walked out of my room?

  I grabbed some clean clothes and made my way to the bathroom. Questions or not, a shower was still in order. A very, very cold one.

  Chapter Four

  I woke up to a text from TS saying he would be gone far longer than he’d expected. That gave me more than ample time to flesh out what he’d asked me to do—figure out what the deal with Jenkins was. I wanted to have an answer for him long before he returned. The need to show him I was capable of the task was overwhelming for some reason.

  Yet another feeling to tuck away for analysis another day.

  The Fates were up when I went downstairs, having just returned from their night of patrolling. They wanted to make sure there wasn’t any fallout in the city from the fight club incident. With Ward and Sully being from different packs, retribution seemed possible. If Ward had been one of mine, I’d damn well have considered it.

  “Hey Phira!” Cy called out before downing half a jug of orange juice.

  “Nothing says bedtime like a massive sugar rush,” I replied, walking toward the kitchen.

  “You’re up early,” Ferris said, popping his head out of the fridge.

  “Yeah, TS asked me to do something while he was gone. I figured I’d get it out of the way ASAP so I could come back and help out with whatever the investigation of Sully and Ward needs.”

  He gave me a nod of approval.

  I grabbed a cup of coffee that one of the Fates had just brewed and made my way over to the vintage kitchen table where Zale sat, quiet and observant as usual. He stared at me for a beat too long, and my anxiety started to rise. He always seemed to do that right before he said some random cryptic shit.

  “Oh fuck. What is it? What are you about to say?” I asked him.

  He looked up at me with empty eyes. “You’re worried about him.”

  I could feel my features scrunch up in confusion. “Worried? Worried about who?” His eyes seemed to clear, his mind coming back to the present. “Yo Zale. Who am I worried about?” He said nothing in response.

  “Phira,” Ferris said, drawing my attention, “let it go. He doesn’t know the answer; he just makes the observations. He’s not omniscient.”

  “I’m always worried about somebody, Zale. Including you.”

  He forced a shy smile and pushed a chair out for me. “I’m sorry I scare you.”

  I sat down with a heavy sigh. “You don’t scare me, Zale. I just don’t understand you, that’s all.”

  He dropped his eyes to the cup in his hands, turning it in slow circles as he avoided my gaze.

  “Am I still your favorite uncle?” His question was so quiet that even I barely heard it. I reached my hand out and placed it on his, stopping the swirling cup in its place.

  “Of course you are.”

  He looked up at me with childlike eyes. Apparently being the favorite was really important to him.

  “That’s some bullshit right there,” Cy grumbled jokingly in protest.

  “What can I say? I like the shy silent types.”

  Cy choked on his OJ, spitting it across the island. “That I don’t believe for a second.”

  I shrugged, doing my best to stifle my smile. “That’s because you’re my smart uncle,” I replied with a wink. “And I should head out before Ferris starts bitching about which uncle he is.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, his voice muffled because his head was still in the fridge. But I could hear the hint of amusement in his response, even if he’d done his best to mask it.

  “I’ll see you guys later.” I slammed a few gulps of
coffee, then placed the mug down on the table. “Text me if you need anything.”

  “My ass is headed to bed,” Cy replied, his big voice echoing through the room, following me out the front door.

  “Make sure it takes the rest of you too.”

  I slammed the door shut, laughing to myself, then made my way outside and through the neighborhood to the bus stop. I had a pretty good idea of where I might be able to track the werewolf down, so I waited for the bus that would take me to my old Sinful stop.

  It was time I figured out exactly what was down Jenkins’ favorite alley.

  As I stood at the mouth of the narrow way, just like I had after my first night at Sinful—the night I first saw Jenkins—a rush of anxiety surged through me. I remembered feeling the wolf at the far end, then seeing him standing outside smoking. I remembered the second that I felt his eyes fall upon me. I knew then that nothing good could come of him. But now I wondered…

  I told myself that I was there to fulfill TS’ request and see what I could get from Jenkins when we spoke. That I was only there on PC business. But I knew that there was more to it than that. The time before last that we’d met, I had been about to drive the kidnapped supernatural girls to safety. He’d tried to stop me until he’d realized whose side I was on. Though he’d essentially acknowledged that he’d been wrong about me, he hadn’t looked particularly apologetic about it. And at the fight club, it had been too tense to really gauge him.

  I hoped my impromptu visit to whatever was at the end of the alley would afford me a better chance to really size up the werewolf, once and for all.

  When I reached the door I’d first seen him near, I didn’t bother knocking. With a deep breath, I threw that fucker open and stepped in like I owned the place—whatever the place was. That mystery was quickly solved with a noseful of sweat-soaked air and a line of heavy bags along the far wall. The room was thick with otherworldly energy, which made sense given the dozens of supernatural males sparring with one another. Or at least they were until they all got a whiff of me.