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Deadly Protector: Federal Paranormal Unit

Page 3

by Taiden, Milly


  And for the first time, Kat actually thought of Sway as more than just a pretty face. It was refreshing and gave her an outlet for everything swirling through her brain.

  “You’re right. And I don’t believe I was being led to Beastly to find him.” She blew out a sharp breath. “It was more to see the place itself. To understand how a beautiful, intelligent young woman, eleven attractive, smart women, with bright futures, their whole damn lives, could be lured to Backass, Nowhere, just to mix it up with shifters and vamps.”

  Pulling the stack of photos from her bag, she tapped them against the palm of her free hand. “Do you think these ladies fit the demographic of the ones tryin’ to get you outta your Levis?”

  “Nope, not at all.”

  “Exactly. And why a dating site? Everyone we talked to said Angela had plenty of eligible men in her life. Donovan found evidence they all did. What possessed them to go online, give up personal information about themselves, and then drive to Nokesville, of all places, to meet up with a guy they’d never met? It doesn’t fit what we know about the victims.”

  “Nope.”

  “What if—” The sound of her phone ringing had her digging in her bag to retrieve the device. Swiping the screen, she answered, “Ma’am?”

  “What have you found so far?” Vega’s tone was direct. “Anything we can use?”

  “Just confirmation of what we already know. Angela was top in her class. Doing great at work. Her apartment was neat and tidy which fits the profile we’ve built. Her bills were paid. Her landlady said she had several gentleman suitors and always seemed happy.”

  “Anything else I should know?”

  It was obvious Vega already knew the answer, but Kat had to wonder how. Was she having them followed? Were they chipped? Did the boss lady have the eye?

  Deciding it was better to just give it up then take the chance of having her ass kicked, Mejia confessed, “I twisted Sway’s arm and had him take me out to Beastly.”

  “And?”

  Just as she’d suspected, there wasn’t the slightest surprise or hesitation in Vega’s voice. She’d known exactly where they were. But how? Hurrying on, Kat explained, “It just doesn’t fit. There was absolutely nothing in Angela’s belongings or apartment to suggest she had any interest at all in shifters, or any kind of supernatural. Why then would she agree to go out to that bar, off the beaten track, to meet someone she didn’t know other than from the internet?”

  “Good questions. Got any answers?”

  “No, ma’am, but I’ll work on it.”

  “Good,” Vega asserted. “Briefing in conference room A at nine a.m.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Taking the phone from her ear and thinking about what the director had just said, or more to the point what she hadn’t said, Kat turned in her seatbelt and blurted, “What if they had talked? What of all their communication hadn’t been through messaging?”

  “What are you saying?” Sway asked as he maneuvered the SUV onto Aden Road. “Donovan checked all their phone records. No numbers matched.”

  “I know that. But at least it would explain why these usually cautious women walked blindly into a trap.”

  “That it would.” Once again narrowing his eyes, something Kat now knew meant he was thinking, Sway added, “So, what’s your plan?”

  “I’m gonna ask Brock and Vega to let us go undercover.”

  6

  “You got a minute, boss?”

  He breathed a sigh of relief when Brock nodded. “Yeah, come on in. To what do I owe this honor?”

  Ignoring the dig, knowing it was meant to remind him that he rarely, if ever, made contact unless forced, Cross got right to the point. “Last night was a total waste of time.”

  “And you’re here to say, ‘you told me so’?”

  “No fun when you already know I was right.” He gave the boss a half grin, his idea of being nice.

  “You always were a sick son of a bitch who had to do everything the hard way.” James snorted. “Now, get on with it. We’ve got a briefing in ten and I have phone calls to make in the meantime.”

  “We’re not gonna draw this guy out by dancing around a club. He’s methodical, prepared, and definitely not into guys. You’re barking up the wrong tree if you think he wants attention and us being there will make him uncomfortable, on the contrary.

  “If he was there last night, he ate it up. We drew all the attention and made it easy for him. But I don’t think he was anywhere near Beastly. It’s too soon. He has a system. One he thinks he’s perfected, and he’s not gonna deviate from that plan. You need an undercover. Someone who can play his game, just not get caught.”

  Stopping as Brock raised his hand. “You’re right, and we’ve got it covered. That’s what we’ll be going over at the briefing.” Standing, he went on, “I’m gonna want you in on this. You’ve been out there. Have the lay of the land. Won’t alert any of the regulars or the bar staff.”

  Leveling his gaze, the boss warned, “But only you. I’ve got no problem that you took a buddy of yours out there last night, but from this point forward, it’s FPU only. I can’t take a chance that someone will fuck up and tip this bastard off.”

  Pissed that James’s nose was way too far up in his business, Cross gave a mock salute and sarcastically agreed. “Sir, yes, sir.”

  Not looking up, Brock dismissively grunted, “Thanks. See you in conference room A at nine…sharp.”

  For the hundredth time, Hunter wondered why the hell he put up with the bureaucratic bullshit of the FBI, of FPU, of James Brock, of civilization as a whole. All he had to do was give the whole fucking mess the middle finger, don his scales and wings, and head back to Scotland.

  “Haven’t been there in fifty years or so, but the place is still mine,” he grumbled to himself, picturing the heather covered fields surrounding his family’s castle.

  “Excuse me?”

  Wrapping around him like dark satin sheets, her soft dulcet tones forced every drop of blood flowing around his brain to rush southward with wild abandon. Stepping forward before he knew he was moving, Cross stopped mid-stride when Kat’s next question woke him from his lust-inspired fog. “What did you say? Were you talking to me? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Shadows underlined her expressive hazel eyes that crinkled at the corners as she shyly smiled. Paying closer attention than he wanted, the pallor of usually glowing skin and the cup of black coffee she was balancing atop a stack of papers made his protective instincts kick into overdrive.

  She was exhausted. Not that it took anything from her beauty or the magnetic attraction that drew him in like a moth to a flame, nope, not even a little bit. It did, however, skate across his every nerve, making him wonder what the hell she was doing when she should have been sleeping.

  Visions of Sway holding her in his too-perfect arms and kissing her puffy pink lips as the dickhead worked his way into her bed had Cross’s jaw clenching so tightly, he was waiting for a tooth to break. Needing to know for sure, he went ahead and closed the distance between them, forced a smile, and as bad as it hurt, made small talk. “No, sorry, I was talking to myself. Sometimes I need the expert advice.”

  “Oh,” she chuckled, that sound like the tinkling of little silver bells made his heart skip a beat. “No worries. I do that a lot.”

  Taking a good, long whiff and scenting only the soft, fresh notes he knew from memory were part of Kat’s chemistry, Hunter took a step back and held out his hand. “Name’s Hunter Cross. Sorry, I meant to do that ear…” Unable to finish his sentence as sparks flew up his arm, spun around his chest, and landed right in his crotch from the simple touch of her fingers to his, he stood unmoving and silent.

  Oblivious to his discomfort, Kat shook his hand and smiled. “No worries. I should’ve introduced myself yesterday. Katrina Mejia, but you can call me Kat.”

  Immediately aware of the loss as she took her hand from his, Hunter regretted having ever touched her. Bu
t knew he would do it again if given half a chance. She was his kryptonite. Someone he had to avoid at all costs, because if he did ever have the chance to touch her again, there would be no letting go.

  Pulling on his years of training and steely control, all he could do was nod. “Nice to meet you.” Motioning toward the conference room, needing to put some distance between himself and the alluring distraction he wanted no part of, Cross added, “See ya in there.”

  Dead on her feet, she smiled. “Yeah.” Then turning, she added over her shoulder, “Nice to meet you, too, Hunter.”

  His name on her lips was pure torture. His dragon pushed hard against the confines of his skin as if to say, “You may not want her, but I damn sure do.”

  Forcing the beast back, Hunter was hypnotized by the seductive sway of her hips and the way her jeans caressed her curves. Imagining all the ways he could strip her right out of her clothes and satiate his throbbing erection, Hunter refused to give into the mountain of feelings falling around him. Bracing himself and rolling his shoulders to release the tension, he stared straight ahead and walked in her wake.

  Entering the room, he took his usual spot in the back of the room seconds before Brock and Donovan entered. Not one to mince words, the boss got the briefing swiftly underway. “I’m turning this over to Donovan and Mejia. They’ve been working all night on some new information. Their plan of attack will flush this guy out.”

  “All right, both Mejia and Cross were out at Beastly last night,” Donovan said, activating the large viewing screen to her right.

  Kat’s eyes flew to his. He could see the questions, almost like accusations but refused to acknowledge them. No explanations were needed. They were two agents doing their jobs, following orders, trying to catch a sicko. That was all she needed to know.

  “From Cross’s report,” Donovan went on, “we know there are exits here and here and here.” She clicked buttons on the gadget in her hand and red dots appeared at every door. “There are private booths with curtains here, and secluded VIP rooms here. The rest is all out in the open ~ dance floor, bar, and patio. Those areas won’t be hard to watch. They have pretty good security, but nothing I can’t hack.”

  Turning back to the room, she smiled. “So, that’s it for me. Mejia’s gonna run through the logistics and timeline.”

  Eyes glued to his mate, unable to fathom why a new agent with little to no experience would be running an op of such importance, Cross listened closely for clues. There was no doubt Kat was more than she appeared, hell, everybody in FPU was, but there was something else there…something just out of his reach.

  “It’s been five days since Leslie Walton was reported missing. We can assume that she was abducted less than twenty-four hours prior based on the other victims and the fact that she was at work, didn’t miss any appointments, and picked up her standing order of Thai. With that in mind, Donovan and I set up a user profile on Two Becomes One early this morning and we’ve already had several hits.”

  Impressed that her mind worked along the same lines as his, Hunter thought, “Look at that. Girl’s got a brain and knows how to use it.”

  “At this point,” Kat continued, “we’re trying to see who’s interested in talking.” Opening her hands, they moved as she spoke. “The dating site’s server doesn’t keep logs of their users’ interactions, but we know he is doing way more than just chatting on the computer. I believe he is actually convincing them to make contact via phone call.”

  Leaning her hip against the corner of the table, she continued to talk with her hands which Hunter found adorable no matter how hard he tried to deny it. “He spoke with our girls. That’s the only thing that makes sense. He lulled them in with a false sense of security, made them feel safe to trust him.”

  “If not on the phone directly, through some voice app or using different burner phones.” Letting her fingertips fall to the top of the table, her nails tapped a deliberate rhythm. “These young women wouldn’t have just gone off half-cocked to basically the middle of nowhere to meet a virtual stranger. These have to be the pieces we are missing.”

  Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, Kat turned back to the screen, pointing to six photos of men who looked pretty normal, or as normal as a guy who’s picking up women on the internet can look. “These men almost immediately made contact with Felicity Jones, our alias profile. All in less than ten minutes of us going live. That tells me that they are regulars. They more than likely work a nine to five job and spend their nights searching for love…or a reasonable facsimile.”

  Nodding to Donovan who made four of the pictures fade to black, Mejia continued. “These two were extremely casual. To the point that it felt well-rehearsed, almost rote. There were no stops and starts as they typed their questions and answers. It was like they had a script and were following it to the letter.”

  “Isn’t that normal for guys trolling a website for dates? They’ve done it so often, they just follow the same routine and talk to whoever talks back?” Sway asked, giving Kat a wink that had Hunter clenching his fists and wondering if anyone would truly miss the Ken doll if he tore the jerk into tiny pieces and dumped him in the landfill.

  “In some cases, but with these two, it was methodical, and from the transcripts I’m going to pass around…” She paused, picked the same stack of papers Hunter had seen her carrying earlier and handed them to Ramirez. “You’ll see that the questions are exactly the same. Yes, a few of the words have been changed but they mean the same thing.”

  Pointing back to the screen as Donovan put the transcripts side-by-side, Kat explained, “See, it’s the same sequence. The person is leading Felicity. He takes her right to the edge then says he has to go, but not before he sets a time for them to talk again.”

  “And he signs off with I’ll be waiting,” Cross mused aloud.

  “Exactly!” Kat’s excitement was palpable. Pointing directly at him, she was obviously thrilled that someone was actually following along and understanding where she was going. “If he keeps to the timetable, there are only three days left for him to convince her to speak to him and agree to meet at Beastly.” Glancing at Brock before looking at everyone in attendance, she beamed. “And that’s when I’m gonna reel him in.”

  7

  He’d spent two and half days barking at everyone who dared to look his way, spending the nights pacing the floors, and jumping at every noise near and far. Knowing that on this night he’d have to watch Kat meet the man they were at least partially sure was abducting women had Cross so wound up, he was having trouble controlling his dragon. Something that hadn’t happened in centuries.

  Pacing the pool deck behind his house, he watched as scales flashed up and down his arms before immediately disappearing in sync with the ragged beat of his heart. “This is why the whole fated mate thing is for the fucking birds.” Dropping into the redwood lounger, he grunted, “I’m not doing it. I can’t deal with a mate. I’m driving myself fuckin’ crazy and I haven’t even spoken ten words to her.”

  Cursing when his phone alerted him to an email, Hunter read the subject of the email aloud, “Op Briefing in 1 Hour.” On his feet and heading toward the sliding glass door, he grumbled, “Happy, happy, fuckin’ joy, joy.”

  Reminding his dragon the entire twenty minute drive to the office that they were not having anything to do with Katrina Mejia, he’d just pulled into the parking lot when that very woman stepped out of her car. Shutting the driver’s side door then opening the back, she bent over at the waist and leaned in.

  Captivated by the sight of her perfect ass, Hunter was forced to swerve to miss an oncoming car then veer sharply in the opposite direction to avoid ramming into a parked one before using his considerable strength to stay up on two wheels. Parking his Harley, he made putting down the kickstand, getting off the seat, and opening his saddlebags take as long as possible.

  Once he was sure Kat had made her way into the building, he shot toward the back entry. Swiping his b
adge, he took the stairs two at a time and ducked into the conference room before anyone else arrived.

  “What an effin’ loser,” he scoffed under his breath. “Actin’ like a teenager in heat. This shit ends right here and right now. I’m a slave to no one, not even my own instincts.”

  “Talking to yourself, old man,” Sway joked, entering the room and making a beeline in Hunter’s direction.

  Pulling the only chair near him closer, Cross plopped his feet on the seat, crossed his ankles, and with a shit-eating grin nodded. “Hell yeah. I’m the only one worth talkin’ to around here.”

  Not easily deterred, which made Cross hate him just a little more, Sway’s hand landed on the back of the first chair he walked past. Shoving it ahead, he placed it way too close for Hunter’s comfort and plopped down before agreeing. “I hear ya.” Swiping his palms down his thighs as his eyes slid side-to-side, he went on. “You ready for tonight? I hear it’s just you, me, and Kat in the club. Think it’s gonna work?”

  There was something in the shady way Sway kept scanning the entrance and the weird cloud of flop-sweat and worry that had Cross asking, “Why wouldn’t it?”

  “No reason.” Eyes still roaming the room but landing on nothing, the younger agent vacillated. “It’s just that, well… Mejia has no experience. That place is always wall-to-wall people. The music is loud and thumping. The whole thing is rushed and based on information that’s spotty at best.”

  The longer Sway spoke, the harder Cross listened. Not to the Ken doll’s words, but the racing of his heart, the hitch in breath, and the anxious tap of the heel of his shoe against the hollow leg of his chair.

  Slowly turning his head, Hunter watched a single bead of sweat wind its way out from under Sway’s messy blond hair and down his cheek before disappearing under his chiseled jawline. Pushing his enhanced perception straight into the younger shifter’s mind, he saw the spark of a dragon alongside the sinewy grace of a black panther and watched as both struggled to be set free.

 

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