Shifter's Claim (The Shadow Shifters)

by A. C. Arthur

  Priya Drake, the reporter from the Washington Post, sat comfortably in Perryville Resorts as if she were an invited guest.

  “Shit!” Ezra cursed. “What the hell is she doing here?” His lips drawn, he immediately pulled out his cell phone to dial a stored number.

  “Delgado,” came the answer on the other end.

  “We’ve got a serious problem out here,” Ezra said immediately.

  “With the lab?” Nick asked.

  “No. With that nosy reporter from the Post who’s sitting in Bas’s restaurant like he sent her a personal invitation to do so.”

  “What the hell?”

  Ezra kept his gaze on Priya. “That’s exactly what I said.”

  “Don’t let her out of your sight,” Nick instructed. “I’m getting Rome and we’re gonna find out what the hell is going on out there in sunny Sedona.”

  Disconnecting the phone, Ezra nodded. “Yeah, I’m gonna find out a few things for myself before this trip is over,” he mumbled, letting his gaze shift from Priya to her luscious companion then back to Priya the second she looked up and caught his gaze.

  Here there was no fear, no hesitation, and no apologies. In fact, she lifted her glass and offered him a smile, which had Ezra’s cat chuffing in anger. But he wasn’t about to shift right in the middle of this restaurant, no matter how much he thought that simple act would scare the hell out of the tenacious female. No, he wouldn’t compromise himself or his tribe that way, but damn if he didn’t want to put her in her place and send her packing once and for all. Sitting there continuing to watch her, he wondered why Bas hadn’t done that as well. What Ezra really wondered was why the Mountain Faction Leader had brought the reporter to his resort and had neglected to tell Rome about it. That was going to be the million-dollar question tonight, Ezra was absolutely sure.

  Chapter 24

  “If she figured out how to get out of the room, she’s going to figure out much more,” Jacques told Bas as they sat in the control room.

  They were each in a chair, seemingly looking at the screens that reflected motion around the resort, and each thinking of something totally different. Bas had been preoccupied all afternoon. Sure he’d come to life the moment Ezra waltzed in with orders from the Assembly Leader to get him into Comastaz and he’d acted with his usual efficiency after Ezra left and they’d begun to pull the necessary strings for the operation. But now, locked in this room with only Jacques, Bas was different.

  He was at ease. At least enough to let the real weight that was bearing down on his shoulders show.

  “Opening a door is not rocket science,” Bas replied without much emotion. His hand moved over the cordless mouse to switch the screen he was watching to a different angle.

  Jacques continued, unfettered. “She’s still texting and sending e-mails. I talked to someone at the paper and they think she’s on vacation, but with the presidential candidates being announced and campaigning hitting full swing, her editor wants every available reporter there. This story could cause her career to skyrocket. Otherwise she is nothing.”

  Bas bristled, his hand tightening on the mouse, his words tempered. “She’s an intelligent and strong woman who pulled herself up out of the misery that was her upbringing to get where she is today. Do. Not. Call. Her. Nothing.”

  And there it was, no matter how practiced and seemingly calm. The reaction that Jacques knew he’d get if he poked hard enough. He couldn’t say the confirmation made him happy, but at least he knew precisely what they were dealing with now.

  “She’s a human who can bring a lot of unwanted heat down on us, that’s who she is. You need to remember that.”

  “No. You need to remember which one of us is in charge here,” Bas said through clenched teeth. He took a deep breath, released it, and then followed with, “I know what I’m doing.”

  Jacques was quiet for a few consecutive heartbeats. “If you tell her what we are she will tell the world. She’s a human and so the moment she finds out what we are she will either fear you or despise you. Falling for her is not a good strategic move.”

  “And sending her away is? She has questions, she’s seen things. None of that will change if I send her packing. She’ll just look for answers somewhere else.”

  “But she won’t find them, ever, because nobody will tell her,” Jacques countered. “Letting her stay in your room is a bad idea, she’s getting too close.”

  “Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer, ever heard of that saying, Jacques?”

  “Don’t shit where you sleep, ever heard of that one?”

  Bas slammed both hands on the console, his head turning slightly so that he was now staring right at Jacques. It was a deathly stare, one he’d seen only when Bas had his rifle drawn, target in line. He probably should have flinched but he was banking on their long friendship, his dedication to this tribe and Bas’s dedication to the same, to keep him alive. Actually, he prayed like hell that it would.

  “I’ve got this under control,” Bas told him.

  “I’m going to keep an eye on her and her text messages while you work this out. But mark my words, with Ezra here, if he sees her or gets one whiff of her out here, Rome is going to be all over this place. He’s going to order her killed, Bas. So do us both a favor, if you’re developing some type of feelings for her, cut that shit off now and get her the hell out of here while she’s still breathing. Your continued guilt trip over the death of one human female is more than enough for both of us to live with.”

  “Are you finished?” Bas asked, standing and pushing the chair back so hard it banged against the wall, rattling the printer and fax machine on the table it was closest to.

  Jacques’s reply was a simple shrug. He didn’t know what else or how else to say it to the shifter without crossing the line. And Jacques didn’t want to do that, not unless he absolutely had to.

  Bas rubbed a finger over his jaw and took another deep breath. He straightened, squared his shoulders, and then spoke as if they’d just walked into this room to have a little chat about the weather.

  “That shifter I shot in the bunker, he knew where he was going. He wasn’t lost even though those hallways are designed to be a big maze, from the color to the length, as you well know. But when he came around that corner it was with slow deliberation, like he’d been waiting for us to walk down that very hallway.”

  Jacques sat up in his chair, instantly alert to what Bas was saying, the scene replaying in his mind.

  “The only thing down the end of that hall is the elevator that leads upstairs,” Jacques told him.

  Bas nodded. “The elevator that leads up to my private suite.”

  “There are no complete blueprints of this resort on any public file. According to the zoning board the bunkers don’t even exist, just an unfinished space for storage.” Jacques and Bas had discussed this repeatedly during construction, it was for their safety as well as the humans that booked rooms with them.

  “Which means someone on the inside told him where to come and how to get around,” Bas said tightly. “They were looking for the items we took from that tunnel. Somebody told them we have it stashed in the bunker.”

  It was Jacques’s turn to nod this time because he was following Bas’s line of thought step for step and coming to the same disturbing conclusion—they had a traitor in their midst.

  * * *

  Bas felt like running. He felt like heading out onto the balcony, down the path that led to his personal running spot, and stripping down to the barest part of himself. His bones ached; carrying the weight of all his worries and the cat that wanted to be free all day long was taking its toll. Knowing that he would enter his room and she would be there was something else he couldn’t describe.

  On the one hand he’d needed her all day. He hadn’t felt complete, like something integral was missing as he’d moved from one meeting to another, even when he was down in the kitchen talking to his banquet manager about an upcoming event happening
the first of the year, he hadn’t felt like himself. He’d longed for her, to touch her, kiss her, sink inside her once more. That was basic, lust came naturally to the shifters and being with Priya had been as good as he’d thought it would be. Yet, Bas knew that wasn’t all.

  He actually ached inside at not seeing her, not scenting her close by. If he thought about her, the familiar scent that seemed to linger on both of them would resurface, but it was too far away, she was too far way. He needed her here, with him, right now.

  And that was problematic, just as Jacques had warned.

  Letting himself into the room, Bas tried not to think too hard on Jacques’s words or on the truth to them that still had Bas’s heart pounding. Rome is going to order her killed. And Bas was going to protect her with his own life if need be, there was no question about that. Then what? Would Rome order both of them killed? Bas would like to see him try it.

  He would also like to see Priya, but she wasn’t in the living room area. Right beside the door, where she’d left them last night he supposed, was her duffle bag and her purse. She’d been ready to leave Perryville, to leave him. Bas hadn’t liked that thought the first time she’d said it to him and he liked it even less now.

  His head lifted abruptly as he forgot about the bags and looked around the room for her. Along his spine a slither of worry worked its way up to his shoulders and he proceeded slowly into the bedroom. A part of him knew she wouldn’t be here. The cat knew and was instantly on alert. He was about to walk out of the room, to go out onto the balcony to see if she was taking a swim when he stopped and looked back at the bed.

  It was neatly made, pillows piled on one side—the right side where she’d slept last night—as if she’d been sitting there propped up. Working on her laptop he figured, as his gaze rested on the computer. Dread sliced through him like an iron-hot blade as he moved to the bed. The screen was black, but the flashing light on its side said it was still on and Bas touched the mouse pad to bring it back to life.

  An e-mail message came up on the screen. A message to Dorian Wilson, the FBI agent that Nivea had been following. With a frown Bas read Priya’s unfinished message telling the agent that her story on the cat people was attached.

  His fingers felt like lead weights as he moved them over the keyboard to open the attachment.

  They live in the shadows—part man,

  Part animal—hiding their true nature

  He read on, each word making his temples pound more, his chest aching with the betrayal he’d known was forthcoming.

  By the time he made it to the end of the article Bas was ready to throw the laptop out the nearest window. He was going to storm out of this room and search every inch of this resort himself to find the author of the article and then what? What was he going to do to Priya Drake for doing exactly what she’d told him she would do? What she had to do to save her brother’s life.

  The alarm system beeped as the front door was accessed and Bas frowned. He didn’t want to deal with Jacques right now and there was no one else that knew the access code to enter his suite. The one thing he really didn’t need was for Jacques to come back here looking for him and to somehow see what was on the screen and to have confirmation that he was absolutely right about Priya Drake. Bas had just closed the laptop and taken a step toward the bedroom door when Priya walked in.

  “You’re back,” she said immediately upon seeing him, looking as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

  “And you were out,” he said evenly. “I told you to stay here until I came back for you.”

  “I had to see someone,” she told him like that was going to be reason enough and shut him up in the process.

  “How did you get back in and who did you have to see? You don’t know anyone here.”

  She sighed, clearly not happy with his questioning but Bas didn’t give a damn. They’d officially crossed into another, less predictable aspect of their relationship, and he didn’t like it. He would definitely deal with it, but he didn’t like it at all.

  “I’m going to shock us both and answer your questions without arguing that I don’t have to do what you say or answer to you,” she said simply as she sat on the bed.

  Right beside the infamous laptop.

  She continued when Bas failed to respond. “I went to check on Jewel to make sure she was all right. We were downstairs together last night and then she was gone.”

  “So you wanted to make sure I didn’t kill her too?” he asked, his voice hoarse with the still raw emotion soaring through him.

  Priya blinked, and Bas figured she was surprised at his tone or his question, either-or, it didn’t really matter.

  “I wanted to make sure she wasn’t hurt or hadn’t gotten into any trouble because of me,” she replied, watching him carefully. “As for your other question, I watched Paolo when he brought me upstairs yesterday. You know, after you left me high and dry in the spa.”

  She’d wiggled her eyebrows at that and Bas’s frown deepened. His chest felt like a killer whale had landed on it, his temples throbbing like drums as fury boiled inside of him. How could she write that story? How could she tell the world about them, when he’d told her what would happen if she did?

  The fact that she was sending the story to an FBI agent and not whoever it was that had been e-mailing her about her brother was even more dangerous in Bas’s mind. The United States government was the absolute last group of humans that needed to know about the shadows. Fear and domination would be the tools they would resort to in their effort to try and contain the unknown group. The shadows were not going to be contained no matter how much diplomacy—which he did not think would be much—came into play. It was simply a disaster waiting to happen.

  “Bas, are you all right?”

  Priya had stood from the bed and was now about a foot away from him. She reached up to touch him and Bas took a step back. “We’re going to dinner,” he announced abruptly. “Get yourself together and meet me in the lobby.”

  He didn’t wait for a response, couldn’t stand there in front of her without wanting to do something—but what? Shake her, yell at her, question her, berate her? What was he going to do with an adult human that had a job to do, not to mention a life to save? How was he going to contain the secret he’d so foolishly handed her? Bas didn’t have the answers. He didn’t have the control he normally possessed and he was very uncomfortable with his urge to shake some sense into Priya or toss her on the bed and sink himself so deep inside her nothing or nobody else mattered to either of them anymore.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, they were in the truck, Priya sitting all the way to one side of the backseat and Bas on the other. Tonight, Kaz was his driver instead of Jacques. Bas hadn’t wanted any more of the man’s advice on what he should and should not be doing and with whom he should be doing it, so he’d sought out Syfon to ride with him and Priya. Syfon hadn’t been available and Paolo, who Bas would have liked to have close to him again, especially after their latest conversation, was mysteriously nowhere to be found. So Kaz had been next in line and since it wasn’t as if he were heading out for a top-secret mission, Bas figured it was okay.

  What wasn’t okay was the guilt eating at him. It seemed this was his favorite emotion, only this time the female he felt guilty about was different. Staring out the window as scenery darkened by the fall of night, he thought about how angry he’d been upon seeing the article she’d written. The article that had depicted the shifters, not as a new species about to claim their differences from the humans, but as a group of people united and committed to having a life amongst the humans. And wasn’t that exactly what they were? Wasn’t that what Rome and the Assembly were trying to build for them? Still, the sight of those words on her computer had sparked the first tingles of fear in him, an emotion he hadn’t felt in years and one he didn’t like feeling at all. But could that fear be placed solely at Priya’s feet? Or could it, as it was hundreds of years ago with the humans, be
a simple result of impending evolution?

  Squeezing the bridge of his nose, Bas wondered how long the Elders had actually expected to keep their existence a secret, especially with the rogues determined to wreak havoc regardless of the Ètica or anyone else’s rules.

  “I think you’re probably causing more tension than releasing it,” she said into the silence.

  Pulling his hand down quickly from his face, Bas looked over to her. “I’m not tense.”

  She made some sound that seemed sarcastic and Bas decided to ignore it. The last thing he wanted was to get into another debate with her. It seemed every second they weren’t ripping each other’s clothes off and dying to get inside each other, they were engaged in a gentle tug of war, her on one side and he on the other. Just another reason why things between them were destined to fail.

  “How do you suggest I relieve my tension?” he asked for the sake of keeping conversation going, but avoiding confrontation.

  She shifted quickly, turning sideways in her seat. “I sing the alphabet song,” she told him.

  When he didn’t immediately respond, she began to sing it. By the time she hit Q Bas was undoing his seat belt. Somewhere around U or V he was sliding across the seat, pulling her into his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she asked after a startled note about Z fell from her lips.

  “I’m relieving my tension,” was all he said before dipping his head to lick the skin that had been exposed through the low-cut top of her dress.

  He’d tried. Nobody could say that he hadn’t, but damn if there wasn’t something continuously pulling them together. Whatever it was proved stronger than all the arguments Bas proposed in his head, even than the control he had over his cat that was now purring with pleasure as his tongue moved over her soft skin.

  “We’re not supposed to do this, remember?”

  Her voice was a breathy whisper, her hands cupping the back of his head, guiding him over slightly to the right. He followed her lead, letting his tongue stroke the curve of her breast. Her dress buttoned up the front and Bas’s fingers worked quickly to undo the first few. Pushing the material and her bra aside he cupped the mound, letting the tight little nipple rub alluringly over the pad of his tongue. She hissed and Bas growled, pulling her even closer, sucking her into his mouth hungrily.