by Zoe Chant
That had been back when most of the work the agency did was basic PI stuff. Meerkat shifters were excellent at recon, able to stay alert for hours without losing focus. And they could hold their own in scraps.
Then there had been the Diaz affair, and Gerald Harper. The world had become a darker, more dangerous place; or maybe Lance had finally had the wool pulled from in front of his eyes, and faced up to reality. These days, the MacInnis Agency did more than hunt down small-time shifter conmen.
Lance realized he was clenching his fists. He relaxed them, forcing his fingers to unfurl one by one, as Briers darted from the door to in front of his desk.
“How’s our latest recruit?” Lance asked. It wasn’t the question Briers had been expecting; Lance saw his brain change gears behind his eyes before he replied.
“Zhang, sir?” Briers waited for Lance to nod. “I’m running another check on her background. Everything’s clear so far, but—”
“Didn’t you do that before her training started?” Lance frowned. Briers was the agency’s technology specialist and was in charge of running background checks on all new employees. There was no way Briers would have let Carol Zhang begin her on-boarding without a clear security check.
“You can never be too careful, sir.” Briers was practically trembling with righteousness. Lance sighed.
“I suppose you’re right.”
Inside him, Lance’s snow leopard shivered.
He hadn’t always been so careful, and God, did he regret it now. So much hurt could have been saved, if only he’d been more aware.
But that was in the past. This was now.
And now, they had something to celebrate.
Gerald Harper was locked up. His island of horrors was no more, and the survivors were rebuilding their lives in freedom. And over the last few months, Lance and his agents had tracked down every last thread in the web of criminals connected to Harper’s evil.
Which meant the most vulnerable of all his victims were finally safe.
“I didn’t come in here to talk about Zhang,” Briers said, playing nervously with the cuffs of his shirt.
“Of course not.” Lance stood up. “How’s the transfer going?”
“Smoothly.” Briers gave a brief nod. “Three separate vehicles, all due to arrive in the city in the next three hours. Rouse’s handlers—sorry, sir, his assigned agents—have been alerted that something is happening tonight, but as you requested, we’re keeping the details need-to-know.”
“Good.” Lance nodded slowly, though inside him, his snow leopard was bristling. The dragon should know what we’re planning, it hissed. They’re his—
Lance tuned his snow leopard out as it continued to grumble. This was a delicate operation. Briers, as his information security chief, had advised that even though they’d smoked out all of Harper’s old associates, the transfer should be done as quietly as possible.
You can never be too careful. Only a select few agents, hand-picked by Lance and Briers, knew about tonight’s mission. Even the dragon shifter Julian Rouse hadn’t been told, despite his connection to the subjects.
Or maybe because of it. Briers had been insistent that Rouse not be involved, and Lance had to admit the meerkat shifter had a point. The dragon shifter wasn’t exactly stable. Hell, the first time Lance had seen him, he’d been tearing chunks of solid stone out of a building.
No. Far better to surprise him with good news than to risk him becoming impatient if there were any delays to tonight’s mission.
Once the mission was complete, Rouse would be far more stable. Lance’s certainty about this should have surprised him, but it didn’t: it was an instinctual shifter knowledge, lodged as deep in his soul as his own snow leopard.
And then all the darkness that had plagued Lance since the Diaz affair would be over.
He rolled his shoulders back, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off him. When Briers caught his eye, he didn’t just smile, he grinned.
“Sir?”
“Just reflecting that this might be the first time in a year that I’ve felt happy about the world. It’s a good feeling.” Lance clapped the meerkat shifter on the shoulder as he headed for the door. “And I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
“It’s been an honor to work with you. Isn’t that why we all joined up? Helping the great Lance MacInnis save the world?”
Lance chuckled. “Don’t start with that crap again.”
Saving the world. He didn’t know who’d started it, but it had become a joke around the office these last few months. At least, he hoped it was a joke.
Because it sure as hell wasn’t true.
After the Diaz affair and what happened on Harper’s island people acted like Lance was a hero, but nothing could be further from the truth. All those two cases had shown him was how little he knew—and how easy it would be to take a wrong step, be too late, and see the people he loved get hurt.
He’d almost been too late to save Harper’s captives. And although he and Grant Diaz had been able to save Grant’s mate, Lance was too late to save the other woman who had been caught up in that web of lies.
Lance had spent the last year feeling like anything but a hero. Knowing that Harper’s criminal network was out there, but not knowing where or who they were or what they might do next was like walking blindfolded along the edge of a cliff with the ground crumbling under his feet. He never knew if the next step would find him finally on solid ground—or send him and his allies tumbling into the void.
Not anymore. They’d won. Harper’s network was in tatters. His victims were safe.
And no one needed to know how terrified Lance had been that everything would go wrong.
Briers fell into step beside Lance as they walked down the corridor. Lance slowed down automatically. At nearly seven feet, Lance was the tallest man at the agency. If he walked at his normal pace down the corridor, Briers would have to scuttle to keep up. Not the best look for a senior staff member.
Almost as undignified as a purring human, he thought to his snow leopard. It flicked its whiskers at him and didn’t respond.
What’s upset you? Lance shook his head as he walked into the main office. His snow leopard stayed silent.
The office was quiet this late at night, but not empty. Three meerkat shifters, gathered around a computer station at the far end of the room, immediately swiveled around to look at Lance as the door closed behind him. Lance nodded at them, and they bobbed back down.
Parker and Yelich, the two field agents he’d prepped for tonight’s mission, were standing by the coffee machine, to all appearances deeply involved in a discussion about Parker’s grandchildren. If Lance hadn’t been looking for it, even he wouldn’t have seen the hints of tension in their shoulders and the way their eyes flicked quickly to him as he walked into the office.
Parker was a lanky white man a few decades older than Lance. He had a calming effect on people, maybe because his face looked as gentle and slightly woebegone in human form as when he was in his bloodhound shape. Lance hoped that particular skill wouldn’t need to come in handy on today’s mission, but—dragons.
Yelich was heavy-set, with olive skin and hair cropped short. A bit less level-headed than Parker, but utterly reliable. The sort of person you wanted at your side in a tricky situation.
Not that anything like that’s going to happen tonight.
*Parker, Yelich.* Lance sent a telepathic message to them both. *Corner meeting room, now.*
Briers hurried through to the meeting room, head already bent over his ever-present tablet. Lance hid a grin. Most of the time, he was the one with his face in a screen. Even now his own tablet was burning a hole in his pocket. If he wasn’t careful, the briefing meeting would look more like the two of them playing mobile games while Yelich and Parker rolled their eyes.
*We’re really doing this?* A grin flashed across Yelich’s face. *Hot damn. I was sure this was another false alarm. Well, it’s about time.*
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*Yelich’s just excited because she heard the safe house has a pond,* Parker added, downing the last of his coffee. Yelich elbowed him with a good-natured snort.
Both agents grabbed their coffees and headed for the corner meeting room. Lance followed them, and then paused and raised his eyebrows as he passed another desk.
“Still here, Zhang?”
Carol Zhang was in her early twenties, only a few years younger than Lance had been when he started the agency as a one-man circus. She had black hair cut in a neat shoulder-length bob, an athletic build, and gray eyes that had freaked the hell out of Lance when he first met her.
She was a shark shifter. Lance hadn’t met many, and Carol was the only one he’d ever met who had this particular issue with her eyes. Lance’s snow leopard sometimes jumped up and took over his eyes and ears or, God forbid, made him purr, but Carol’s eyes were permanently shark-like: gray-black and flat-looking, with no distinction between the iris and pupil.
She didn’t jump when Lance spoke to her, even though she hadn’t looked up when he came in. That was unusual, even for predator shifters. Out in the wild, the best way to react to an unexpected presence was to jump the hell away from it, and the same tended to hold true for shifters even if they grew up in the city.
Instead, she looked up smoothly, her face and stance betraying not even the slightest hint of surprise. “Yes, boss. I’m reviewing some of the training materials, and—” She glanced over her shoulder at the other field agents. “Agent Yelich’s still here, so I thought…”
“Yelich is on assignment tonight. You’re free to head home for the weekend.”
Zhang nodded and frowned. “Yes, boss. I didn’t realize it had gotten so late. I’ll just finish this reading first.”
Lance nodded and kept walking, making a mental note to tell Yelich to tell Zhang about work-life balance. It would come better from her than from him; God knew he didn’t make a good example.
He was halfway to the meeting room when there was a clatter behind him. He turned to see Zhang clutching at her half-overturned chair. She saw him watching her and flushed red.
A moment later, she was at his side. Lance blinked. Zhang usually held herself so still, he forgot about her strange turns of speed. When she did move, she was as quick and silent as—
Shark! his snow leopard snapped, puffing up defensively. Danger!
Stop that, Lance retorted. Out loud, he said, “Zhang? Was there something else?”
“Yes. Mr. MacInnis. Boss.” Zhang’s lips twisted, and her face flushed a vivid red that seemed at odds with her cool, flat eyes. “I wanted to tell you—I know I’ve only been here three months, and I’m still on my probation, but I…”
She twisted her fingers together. Lance had never seen her so animated. “Go on,” he encouraged her.
“I wanted to thank you. For taking a chance on me.” She shrugged, the movement a strange combination of shark-smoothness and jerky, entirely human awkwardness. “I know I’m not a full agent yet, but even bringing me on as a recruit—not many people would have done that. Not for a shark shifter.”
A psychic nudge brushed up against the edge of Lance’s mind. Briers, impatient as usual.
Lance held up a hand. “Their loss is our gain,” he interjected as Zhang hesitated. “I mean it. From everything Yelich’s told me about your work so far, you’ll be an asset to the agency.”
“Really?” She grinned in sudden delight, and Lance’s snow leopard puffed up even more. He swallowed quickly. That was right. Zhang’s eyes weren’t the only perma-shark part of her appearance.
“Really,” he said, hoping his voice was communicating the correct amount of reassurance and precisely zero of his snow leopard’s freak-out. “In fact, I wanted to discuss your probationary period next week. I’ll put it in your calendar. Right now, though, I have other matters to attend to.”
“Of course. Thanks, boss. Sorry for interrupting.” Zhang glided rapidly back to her desk and sat down, practically glowing.
“Anytime.”
Lance hid a smile as walked into the meeting room. Well, well, well. Maybe Briers was still cautious of their latest recruit, but he’d see what Yelich had to say. If she thought Zhang was ready for it, maybe it was time to start sending her on missions.
Of course, after tonight, the missions would be boring. Because after tonight, everything was going back to normal. No more dragon exploitation. No more hidden criminal networks.
The door swung shut behind him, hissing slightly as it sealed. The sealing might seem like overkill, but overkill was the only way to keep meeting rooms properly soundproof in a company that employed sharp-eared shifters.
“Right,” Lance said, re-settling his glasses as he stalked towards the gathered agents. “Parker, Yelich, we—”
He broke off as a wave of alarm battered against his mind. His snow leopard went on high alert.
Something was terribly wrong.
“What’s happened?”
“Look at this.” Briers pushed his hair off his forehead and held his tablet out to Lance. Lance took it, frowning. Meerkat shifters were notoriously edgy and highly strung, but Briers was actually sweating. And as he glanced around the room, he saw that even Parker and Yelich looked disturbed.
Lance looked at the tablet and swore. A red light blinked on a map: they’d lost contact with one of the transfer vans. “When did this come in?”
“Ten seconds before you walked in.” Briers licked his lips. “It’s Alpha transport. I’ve tapped the driver’s comm, but he’s not—”
Briers’ phone buzzed, and he almost dropped it in his hurry to answer it. He listened, his expression intent, and when he ended the call his face was ashen. “That was him. Someone jacked the van and knocked him out.” Briers swallowed, a tic twitching at the corner of one eye. “The payload’s gone.”
Dread settled on Lance’s shoulders. “We’ve lost one of the eggs.”
Briers nodded, droplets of sweat flying off his forehead.
Lance leapt into action. “Parker, Yelich, contact the other transports. They’re still en route?” He paused for Briers to nod. “Then they’re not in the city yet. Tell them to pull out, now. Someone knew we were making the transfer tonight. We can’t risk losing the other eggs.” He turned back to Briers. “Go.”
Sam Briers had been on the agency’s payroll since near the beginning. Lance didn’t need to tell him what he needed; the meerkat shifter’s fingers were already flying over his tablet’s screen.
“It has to still be somewhere in the city.” Briers frowned. “I’m putting everything I have on it. Tracking out from the last known sighting. If there’s anything even—”
His eyes widened. Lance nodded at him to continue.
“There’s… something. The light on these security camera feeds is wrong for the time of night.” He pursed his lips. “Messy. They’re looping footage from earlier in the evening.”
Some sixth sense made the hairs on the back of Lance’s neck prickle. Briers was good, but this seemed almost too easy. “You think it’s a trap?”
Briers met his eyes. “I think it’s the only lead we have.”
And even if it is a trap… All of Lance’s protective instincts surged. They had to get that egg back. If the people who’d taken it were anything like the groups he’d been hunting down these last few months…
None of the Rouse eggs had hatched while they were in protective custody, but according to Julian Rouse, the possibility was still there. Apparently the eggs were in a kind of stasis. When conditions were right, they would hatch.
Lance didn’t want to think what might happen if the missing egg hatched while it was under the control of whoever had taken it.
He forced himself to stand straight, even as he felt like the ground was cracking under his feet.
I was so sure that we’d cut off every loose end. That the danger was over. But he’d been wrong. Something had slipped through the gaps. And now his sense of control
was crumbling. Again.
“Right,” he said. His voice was steady, not betraying the fear in his heart. “Here’s the plan.”
Keeley
For a moment, Keeley was confused. She stared down at the thing inside the case, nestled so carefully in a satin-covered cushion.
She’d expected drugs, or money, or some high-value item Sean was fencing for his new “business partner.” Not this.
It’s just… a rock.
A fancy, polished rock the size of her fists put together. But still… a rock.
Frowning, Keeley slipped the rock out of the case, cradling it against her stomach as she checked under the cushion it had lain on. There was nothing else in the case. Just the stone.
What the hell is going on here? Is this some sort of a joke?
Keeley’s heart sank. No. Not a joke. A test.
Sean had tricked her, and she’d fallen for it. There was no job. He just wanted her to know he could still control her.
Her fingers tightened around the stone. She was about to throw it back in the case and slam the lid shut, but something made her pause.
It was just a fancy stone. The sort of thing Keeley had seen in New Age stores, the ones that sold crystals and herbs and stuff. It probably wasn’t worth more than thirty or forty dollars, really.
But it was… pretty. Glimmers of purple, green and blue seemed to shift under its surface as the train rocked in its tracks.
Pretty, she thought again. And strange. The coloration made the rock look mysterious, valuable—
She shook her head. Whoever had carved it had done a half-assed job. It wasn’t even properly round. Instead, it was tapered at one end, almost egg-shaped. And the surface wasn’t finished, but had a dimpled texture, like a golf ball.
Still…
Keeley felt half-hypnotized. She ran her fingertips across the dimpled surface of the stone. She didn’t have many pretty things these days. If this was a trick, a test, then she didn’t need to leave it in the case, right? The stone was the right size to fit into her coat pocket. She could just—
