Dead Zone

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Dead Zone Page 7

by Amber Lynn Natusch


  “What’s wrong? Who’s hurt?” I blurted out without even saying hi.

  “Nothing is wrong. No one is hurt,” he replied. “Where are you?” I looked at the street signs on the corner and told him. “Great. Go three blocks west to Kalamatas. We’ll meet you there.” Then the line went dead.

  “Okaaaaaaaay,” I said to myself, tucking my phone away and changing direction.

  A few minutes later, I stood outside of my destination—a hole in the wall mom-and-pop style Greek restaurant that served breakfast. My mouth was watering before I even set foot inside.

  I pushed the door open and surveyed the place, looking for Alek. In the back corner, tucked into a booth, I found him and Nico both. I waved and made my way over, sitting down next to Alek on the bench across from Nico.

  “So what’s up? You scared the shit out of me with your call. You hate the phone. Nico’s always the one to call me.”

  “Yeah, seems like Alek got a wild hair up his ass about getting together and took it upon himself to organize this impromptu meal.”

  “Wild hair or not, if they have tiganites, I’m about to order the shit out of it,” I said, reaching across Alek to snag a menu. “Bingo! There it is.”

  “Remember you’re in public, Phira. Try not to eat enough for three.”

  “Good call. I’ll order two and take one to eat on the way home.”

  Nico rolled his eyes. Alek snickered.

  “So why the meeting, Alek? Why couldn’t we have just talked at home?”

  He was quiet at first, but I felt a shift in his energy. Something primal and protective.

  “I just wanted to have a meal alone with my siblings. Is that so wrong?”

  There wasn’t hurt in his voice. Instead, he seemed irritated.

  “Awwww,” I sighed, wrapping my arm around him and leaning my head on his shoulder, “you miss us—just the three of us.”

  Nico scoffed. “I can’t shake this bastard. It’s like we’re twins, not triplets.”

  “I can’t help that I’ve been stuck doing nefarious deeds in the name of the PC,” I replied before the waitress came over to take our orders, then disappeared again. Once she was gone, our conversation resumed. “I’m not exactly trying to avoid you guys.”

  “Where were you this morning?” Alek asked, turning to look at me.

  “I had to follow up on something I heard at the bar last night.”

  “And?” Alek pressed. It was weird having him lead the interrogation; he was usually the fly on the wall while Nico grilled me. I felt like I was in the twilight zone.

  “Nothing really. I didn’t learn anything helpful, but I might check back again just to be sure.”

  “Was it about the werewolf?” Nico asked.

  “Sort of. His name came up, and I just thought I should be thorough and see if the individual knew anything, but he didn’t seem to.”

  “Probably because there isn’t much to learn. We’ve been looking into it almost nonstop since Ward’s death and haven’t come up with anything damning yet.”

  “Maybe there’s nothing damning to be found?”

  “Perhaps,” Alek said, looking over to the approaching waitress. She plopped our plates down in front of us and asked if we needed anything else. Her accent was clearly from the old country, so I answered in Greek. Her face lit up before she walked away.

  I had a feeling I was in for a free piece of baklava.

  “Do you think it’s worth going back to the fight club and checking things out—in an unofficial capacity, of course?” I asked.

  “That could work,” Alek and Nico answered in unison. They stared at each other strangely for a moment, then turned their collective attention back to me.

  “Okaaaay…I’ll see what I can swing.”

  Not knowing what else to say, I started to inhale my meal. Holy shit was it good. Just like Dad used to make for us growing up. If Dad cooked, you came running. If Mom cooked, you hid.

  It didn’t take long for the three of us to finish up. The second we did, our waitress returned, baklava in hand. I totally called that one.

  We acted as gracious as possible and paid our bill, leaving her a big tip.

  “Are you guys headed home now? I could use a lift.”

  “Yeah, we’re heading back to meet up with Muses.”

  Suddenly the idea of rushing home seemed less appealing.

  The boys, clearly noticing my disappointment, both smiled. How they loved to delight in my pain.

  “Fine. But I’m running upstairs and having a nap before he can even get a word out. Deal?”

  “Whatever,” Nico replied, opening the door for me. “Why do you need a nap, anyway?”

  “I didn’t sleep for shit last night. My mind was racing.”

  “Another ghost?” Alek asked, filing out behind me.

  “No.” Well, kind of—if Gabe could be considered one. “I mean, I did see one the other night, but I have no idea what she wanted, and I haven’t seen her since. I think my sleep issues are more due to my inability to let go of what’s already happened. I’m working on it, but I still need the nap.” My brothers looked at each other and shook their heads. “Are you two the sleep police now too? Because I can’t deal with that shit.”

  Nico laughed, walking along the driver’s side of the SUV.

  “You can lie down in the back if you’re struggling that hard.”

  Alek, however, stopped next to me and pinned his intense stare on me.

  “There’s something else, isn’t there? I can feel your unease.”

  “I’m uneasy about the things I’ve done. The things I know I’ll have to do. That’s all. This is all still so new to me. I’ll get used to it. Promise.”

  He eyed me for a moment longer before giving me a tight nod and climbing into the passenger’s seat. I let out an exhale, then climbed in the back and lay down. Sleepy or not, I wanted to avoid any further conversation about the things keeping me up at night. I didn’t need Nico and Alek digging around until they learned about the very large cat I was desperate to keep in the bag. One mention of the name Gabe and Nico would lose his shit. Maybe Alek too, given how he’d acted at breakfast. I needed to keep them in the dark, which I hated doing. As much as my brothers could make me insane, I adored them.

  Lying to them hurt.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I woke up to a text from Jenkins telling me that he needed me to work the bar that night and when he needed me there. I only had a couple of hours to get cleaned up, eat, and ride the bus to the bar. I rushed around, knowing that my curly hair would take forever to deal with. An hour later, I walked into the living area clean and dolled up—or at least as dolled up as I ever got. Something about black leather pants and a loose white tank cut so low on the sides that my black bra hung out didn’t exactly say formal. Or classy. Or girly.

  Fine by me.

  “I’m heading into the bar tonight,” I announced to everyone there. Cy was hovering around the kitchen, which I’d become convinced was the only place he and Ferris ever were in the warehouse. Alek and Nico were at the kitchen table. The rest were nowhere to be found. “What’s on your agendas?”

  “Ferris and Zale are out looking into some disturbance on the other side of town. Nothing major, but it needed PC attention ASAP.”

  “Why didn’t you go?” I asked, confused. I thought they went everywhere together.

  He shrugged. “I was hungry, and Ferris said it wasn’t a big deal. Nothing they couldn’t handle without me.”

  “Muses is out following up on one last lead. After that, I think we’re shutting down the investigation into Ward’s death.”

  “Well at least it’ll be done.”

  “Yeah, but don’t let your guard down at the bar. You’re there to learn all you can about everything you can.”

  I jumped to attention, salute and all.

  “Yes sir! I’ll debrief at O-300 hours, sir.”

  “Just go,” Nico groaned, waving me out of the house.
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  “And be careful,” Alek added.

  “You know me,” I replied with a smile.

  Grabbing my jacket off a kitchen chair, I made my way out of the warehouse and down to the bus stop. I had alcohol to sell and conversations to eavesdrop on. If I could drink the booze rather than sell it, I’d like my job a whole lot more.

  “Hey Sapphira, I have to run out for a minute. I’ll be right back.” Jenkins rushed behind me at the bar to grab something I couldn’t see, then headed back the way he’d come.

  “Where are you going?”

  He looked at me with tight eyes. “That place I don’t really talk about.”

  Ah, yes. Fight club.

  “I’m coming with you,” I said, pulling the bottle opener from my back pocket and tossing it on the bar. “The others can handle things for a little while, right?”

  “You’re staying here,” Jenkins said, sounding oddly like he had back when he didn’t trust me.

  I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him around the corner that led to the back. Once I was confident we were out of earshot, I pled my case.

  “You do remember why I’m here, right?” I asked with ample sarcasm. “The PC have almost given up looking into that special place you’re headed to and the thing that recently happened there, but I need to check it out. And I need to do so out of the spotlight, you feel me?”

  He exhaled hard, propping his hands on his hips.

  “You’ll be in the spotlight if you go there, whether you like it or not. You don’t exactly blend in.”

  “Maybe so, but not for the wrong reasons. It’s the only way, Jenks.” I played the friends-only name to see if that would help persuade him. The mischievous grin on his face told me it might have. “I can be your arm candy. I’ll play the doting girlfriend. It’ll be fine.”

  At that, he laughed. “Except I don’t do girlfriends, and anyone who knows me knows that. You calling yourself my girlfriend would only evoke more suspicion. If you go—and it’s still an ‘if’—you go as my ward. A stray I’ve taken in for now, until you side with a pack.”

  I shrugged, not really caring what my cover story would be. I just wanted to get in.

  “Fine. Thanks for taking me in, Captain Philanthropy.”

  His head lolled back as he sighed and muttered to himself. “I’m so going to regret this later…”

  “Hardly. I’m a ton of fun.”

  “You’re a ton of trouble.” I winced inwardly at that word. “Let’s go before I change my mind,” he said, heading toward the back door. “And I swear if you don’t do exactly as I say in there, I’ll drag your ass out myself. Understand?”

  “Aye aye, Captain.”

  “Are you always this big a pain in the ass?” he asked over his shoulder, opening the door.

  “Pretty much. But I’ll grow on you eventually.”

  “Your poor family,” he deadpanned. If it hadn’t been for that twinkle in his blue eyes, I might have thought he was serious. But I knew better than that. Jenkins and I seemed to share a rather dry sense of humor.

  Maybe we’d prove to have even more in common.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It didn’t take long to make the journey to the building where the fights were held. Maybe it helped that Jenkins loved to sing as much as I did, and we belted out the words to every song that blared through his speakers. We really did have a lot in common.

  He parked the Jeep around the back and tried the door, but it was locked. After several attempts to get someone’s attention by pounding on it, he sighed and started around to the front of the building.

  “I was hoping to avoid this,” he said under his breath. “Remember what I told you. Keep your head down and stay quiet. You can be quiet, right?”

  “The precedent has been set before.”

  “Good. Channel that moment. I’m sure it was fleeting…”

  Biting my tongue, I followed Jenkins around the next corner to the front entrance, keeping my head down like a good little submissive wolf. My blood practically boiled in the process, but I wasn’t there to cause a scene. I wanted to scope things out. Nothing more.

  Once we got past the burly guy at the door, we walked into a sea of bodies. In the middle of that crowd was the cage-style ring. At first glance, I thought they’d put in a new red mat—then I realized it was actually soaked with blood.

  “Well this is charming.”

  “It grows on you,” Jenkins said, making his way toward the rowdy mob. “Stay with me. Keep your head down, and whatever you do, keep a leash on that sharp tongue of yours. God only knows how much trouble it could land you in.”

  “In my experience, lots.”

  He stopped just before we penetrated the outer edge of the mob and turned to face me.

  “This is serious, Sapphira. Once you breach this line,” he said, pointing to a red line painted on the concrete, “you’re without your powers. All you have to back you up is your strength and your smarts, and somehow I think the latter disappear when you’re pissed, so do what you can to keep that from happening.”

  “Point made. Let’s get this over with.”

  I followed him through the riotous crowd that was already cheering for the next fight. I looked through the bodies at the cage, where a couple of average-looking guys were squaring off with only wraps on their hands for protection. That made me wonder.

  “Jenkins!” I shouted over the constant noise surrounding us.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why would anyone want to fight without their abilities?”

  He stopped walking and looked down at me for a brief moment, a hint of sadness peeking through his harsh stare.

  “Because some of us like to remember what it was like to be human.”

  “And the rest?”

  “The rest just like the thrill of survival.”

  Without further explanation, he continued through the tightly packed bodies, headed for whatever was on the other side. I tried to push his reply out of my mind as I stared at his back, following close behind him. It wasn’t only his words that haunted me; it was the tang of resentment I’d felt rub against my energy as he said them. I’d felt that once before, when my uncle Cooper had spoken about his old pack, the one he’d been with when he and my mother met. After that night, he’d never mentioned it again. I couldn’t help but wonder if Jenkins was the same—if his past was as riddled with things he wanted to forget.

  Before my mind could wander further down that path, Jenkins stopped cold at the far edge of the crowd, where a middle-aged man stood. He had a large presence for someone not physically huge. His stark features and pale eyes seemed to play into that even more. Or maybe it was the way he toed the null line, opting to stay on the side of power. I wondered if that was a metaphor of some kind.

  Then Jenkins bent down low to speak into my ear, distracting my thoughts.

  “Wait here. There’s something I have to do.”

  “Who’s that?” I asked, looking at the guy now staring us down.

  “That’s Murph. He’s the second to the Southside alpha, and the one that runs this place.”

  As I let that detail sink in, Murph waved us over. Before Jenkins could argue, I obliged and headed toward him, an angry lone wolf tight on my heels.

  “You don’t normally mix your business with pleasure, Jenkins,” Murph said by way of greeting. Though he’d spoken to my companion, those pale grey eyes were all for me.

  “Oh, I’m not his pleasure, trust me. More like the current bane of his existence,” I said with a smile. It earned me one in return—at least from Murph. I could feel the irritation radiating off Jenkins.

  “She’s new to town. She lives in my hood.”

  “Does she have a name?”

  “Goes by Sapphire—or at least she did when she worked at Sinful.”

  Murph’s eyes went wide.

  “As a DJ,” I added quickly. “Strictly clothes on.”

  “That’s too bad,” he said, looking me over. His att
ention finally drifted to Jenkins, and I could feel the lone wolf’s tension ease slightly. Whether Murph and he normally had a tenuous relationship or I was somehow making it one, I knew he wasn’t going to let me stay much longer. “I need to talk to you about what happened the other night,” Murph said to Jenkins. “Alone.”

  Jenkins nodded, then gently took my arm in his to lead me away.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, escorting me back into the crowd.

  “But I need to—”

  “You need to wait here and remember what I told you earlier. If I learn anything worthwhile, you’ll be the first to know, got it?”

  I let out a hard exhale. “Fine. I’ll do my best to behave while I wait, but no promises.”

  “Just gimme five minutes.” With that, he hurried off toward a group of men leaning against the far wall of the building, well beyond the red line adorning the floor. I tried not to stare, wondering if I’d somehow screw up Jenkins’ plan, so I turned my attention to the cage, or more specifically, the giant wall of a man blocking my view of it.

  I did what I could to edge around him, but he, not unlike Damascus, was just enormous. Short of climbing up onto his shoulders—which I contemplated for a hot second before passing on the idea—there was no getting around him. And without my powers, or Jenkins to carve a path through the male spectators, I was a 135-pound girl in a sea of brutes. The odds were far from in my favor.

  “Jesus, it’s like they let an ogre in here,” I muttered to myself, thinking I’d said it quietly, but when his body went still and his head slowly swiveled around on his hulking shoulders, I realized that my perception of volume was a touch off without my supernatural abilities. “Oh boy…”

  “You got a problem, bitch?” His tone was as threatening as his gnarly expression. Maybe he really was an ogre.

  “Other than you calling me a bitch?”

  The rest of his massive frame turned away from the fight toward me. Not good. So not good.

  “You got a big mouth for a tiny girl.”

 

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