Forbidden Instinct (Forbidden Knights Book 1)

by Cassandra Chandler

  “Better than a pickle,” she said.

  The tightness in Darren’s chest loosened as he let out a laugh. If she felt good enough to make jokes like this, she was going to be okay. He was sure of it.

  She leaned against him, stray hairs from her ponytail tickling his chin.

  “Do you two know each other?” Scott asked.

  Before Darren could respond, a pair of EMTs approached them with a gurney. Darren set Miranda on it, then reluctantly backed away. The next few minutes were filled with questions. Darren answered as efficiently as he could, and listened intently to Miranda’s take on what had happened.

  From how she described what had happened to her, the person who’d been driving the SUV had caused the accident. Darren looked around, but didn’t see anyone in cuffs, and the back of the police cruisers were empty. He made a mental note to check in with his dad’s friends on the force and help track down the person responsible. Miranda had nearly been killed.

  A wave of anger pounded through him, but he quickly suppressed it. He needed to stay clear-headed if he was going to be of any help.

  The EMTs started to wheel her away, and Darren followed for a few paces.

  “Do you need me to go with you?” he asked.

  Her eyes filled with tears, but she smiled. “No, I’m fine. I’ll be back at The Red Thread before you know it.”

  “Don’t rush it,” he said. “I understand the urge to get back to work and throw yourself into the job so you don’t have to think about what happened, but you need to take care of yourself. Listen to your doctors.”

  “Yes sir.” She mock saluted him and laughed. She was still smiling at him as they wheeled her away.

  A heavy dread settled into his stomach as he watched them close the ambulance doors. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d grown to care about her until that moment. And the last time he’d watched ambulance doors shut like that—

  Scott clapped Darren on the back, startling him out of his worst memory.

  “Now I understand why you’ve been so dodgy about having dinner with me lately,” Scott said. “If I was working a sweet little number like that, I’d keep the competition away, too.”

  Darren glared at Scott, then turned and started toward their car. He should be focusing on their assignment, but kept thinking about Miranda.

  The first time Darren went to the odd diner where she worked, it was because he was hungry and it was the only place that was open at one o’clock in the morning. Then he had chatted with her and decided to go back the next night. And the next.

  He hadn’t wanted it to seem like he was only going to hit on her, so he’d kept going every night—even when she was off—acting like any good regular. But now he knew the truth about his visits. It was clearer than ever.

  As soon as she was back at work, Darren was going to ask her out. For real—not just in his head. That decided, it was easier to get his mind back on the job.

  “You shouldn’t have left the package unguarded,” Darren said.

  The silver sedan the company had tricked out for transport jobs came into view. The doors were closed, windows up. When they reached the car, Darren tested the handle. Locked.

  He let out a little breath, allowing himself to feel a small bit of relief. It vanished when he noticed that the passenger’s side floor mat was out of place.

  “Did you check on the package while I was gone?” Darren was already punching in the code to unlock the door. He pressed his thumb against the sensor that would read his print and heard the click of the latch.

  “Relax,” Scott said. “The doors were locked when we got here.”

  Darren lifted the rug, then used his key to open the trap door in the floorboard. He pulled out the metal case that held the package—a set of rare silver coins from Ancient Greece. The museum had loaned them to a professor of Antiquities at the local University, and Ford Security was handling their transportation.

  “Keep an eye out,” Darren said.

  “I’m telling you, everything’s fine.” Scott wasn’t even trying to check out the area. He was just staring at Darren with a weirdly blank expression.

  Darren turned back to the case, his dread growing. He entered the combination, then used another key to open it. He lifted the foam that kept the coins in place and his stomach dropped.

  “What the hell?” Scott pushed against Darren’s side, trying to get a better view of the case—the empty case.

  “Calm down.” Darren forced himself to follow his own advice, even though his mouth was bone dry and his heart was pounding. “Take me through it. What happened after I left?”

  Scott ran his fingers through his spiky brown hair. “Nothing. I sat there for a minute, thought you might need some help, made sure the compartment was secure, locked up the car, and left.”

  “No one approached you? No one was lingering in the area?”

  “No. Dammit, Darren. I’ve had the same training as you. I know I don’t always act like it, but I know what I’m doing.”

  Theory isn’t the same as practice.

  Darren kept the thought to himself. The other guys they worked with were mostly ex-military and used that phrase to taunt Darren all the time. He wouldn’t use it against Scott.

  “Maybe somebody cut through the bottom of the car.” Scott bent over the footwell of the passenger’s seat, feeling around in the secret compartment. He sat down heavily when he saw that the floorboard was intact.

  “Those coins didn’t walk off by themselves. Somebody took them.” Darren scanned the nearby buildings.

  The case had been secured to either Scott’s wrist or the lock bar in the secret compartment ever since the coins were in their possession. And Scott hadn’t been out of Darren’s sight in that time—until the accident. An accident that suddenly seemed very suspiciously timed.

  Darren spotted an electronics store across the street. It was a long shot, but if the owner was trying to get a view of their front door, the angle might be wide enough to capture their car through the front window. The image would be too grainy for a solid ID, but it would give them a clue about what had happened.

  Darren tapped his partner on the shoulder. Scott seemed disoriented. Almost dazed.

  “Are you okay?” Darren said.

  Scott blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Of course not. My mom is going to kill me. I’ve finally proven I’m the fuck-up she always thought I was.”

  “Let’s focus on trying to fix this.” Darren nodded toward the electronics store. “They might have surveillance footage that can help.”

  Scott slammed the door shut, then locked it. He stalked across the street next to Darren.

  An electronic buzzer sounded as they entered the store. The guy behind the counter looked half-asleep. He didn’t even move until Scott threw a hundred-dollar bill on the counter.

  “Can I…help you?” The guy stood straighter, eyeing the cash.

  “Show us the recordings from your security cameras for the last thirty minutes,” Darren said.

  The guy nodded, then snatched up the money and crammed it into his pocket. He turned around and started typing on the computer behind the counter. A monitor was mounted on the ceiling with three views displayed. As Darren had hoped, the street outside was visible. The camera views froze for a moment, then skipped before winding back.

  “That’s far enough,” Darren said.

  Scott’s gaze was stuck to the monitor. They watched as Darren emerged from the car, then ran off toward the accident. Moments later, a man appeared next to the car, appearing out of thin air.

  “The footage is glitchy,” Scott said.

  The cashier shrugged. “It’s all we’ve got.”

  Darren focused on the image, memorizing everything he could. The man was about five seven, with a slender build and blond hair. He was wearing an overcoat that obscured the rest of his clothes. He leaned down to talk to Scott through the window. The details were too blurry to see exactly what was happeni
ng in the car, but after about a minute, Scott got out and closed the door.

  The guy was holding out a small black pouch. Scott dropped something into it. Several somethings that caught and reflected the sunlight back at the camera.

  “No way. No fucking way!” Scott turned to Darren. “I didn’t do that. I swear, I didn’t. That can’t be me.”

  Darren ignored him—and the nauseated feeling rising up through his guts. He didn’t want to believe it either, but the guy in the footage who had stepped out of their car was wearing the same dark blue jacket and pale gray shirt that Scott was wearing. He had the same haircut, height, and build.

  Scott looked back at the monitor in time to see the blond man tuck the black pouch into his jacket pocket and put his hand on Scott’s shoulder. He said something, then the footage glitched again. One second the guy was there and the next he was gone.

  In the footage, Scott stood completely still for long enough that Darren wondered if the camera had hung. But then Scott started moving again suddenly. He put the case back in the car, closed the door, and walked off toward the accident site.

  “I don’t understand.” The fight had gone out of Scott’s tone.

  Neither did Darren. He shook his head. “Let me think for a minute.”

  The blond guy had been waiting for them. He had shown up too quickly to not be expecting them. That meant he knew their route. All information about the assignment was confidential. Only a few people in their company should have known the details.

  Which meant this was an inside job.

  Darren couldn’t believe Scott was involved. Maybe the man who had taken the coins could perform some sort of hypnosis. Darren had never heard of any techniques that gave so much control that quickly, though.

  “What the hell was that?” Scott said. He looked like he was in shock.

  “We’re going to figure it out.” Darren walked around the counter.

  The cashier finally perked up. “Hey, you’re not allowed back here.”

  “It’s a little late for that,” Darren said.

  He pulled a portable flash drive from his pocket and plugged it into the computer that ran the security cameras. The software was fairly standard. It only took him a few moments to find and copy the files he needed. He deleted the originals with a program he kept handy on the drive. No one would be recovering that data.

  He walked back to Scott, pocketing the drive again, and said, “A little something for his trouble.”

  It took Scott a minute to catch on, but then he pulled out his wallet and handed the cashier another couple of hundreds. Business at Ford Security was good, and the more than generous bankrolling from Scott’s mom helped with situations like this.

  Darren put his hand on Scott’s shoulder and steered him toward the exit.

  “We were never here.” Darren gave the cashier his most menacing stare as they stepped outside.

  Chapter Three

  Miranda stood behind the counter, wrapping silverware in paper napkins for the next day’s shifts and trying to steady her shaking hands.

  Adrenaline is a harsh mistress…

  She took a deep breath to try to calm her nerves. The bright scent of pine soothed her.

  Glancing at the walls, she noticed that Jack had changed out the greens recently. He’d woven them into intricate patterns that she recognized from the fairy tales her dad would tell her when she was a child.

  She didn’t have to worry about trolls, goblins, or ghosts hanging out in the diner with those things hanging on the walls. Birds and squirrels could be a problem, though. She snorted at the thought.

  Jack went all-out with the old world theme in the place. Each door had a set of antique bells hanging above it made from bamboo, silver, gold, bronze, and other things she wasn’t quite sure about. He’d matched their timbre so that they could tell which door had been opened. The front door bells had high, tinkly sounds. The back door’s set were deeper, and the side door that led from the kitchen was kind of in between.

  One of the bells above the front door rang. The dinner rush was well past over and the sky had turned dark. Since it was too early for Darren—if he was even coming in tonight—it was probably Eden. Miranda smiled as she turned to greet her best friend.

  “Hi.” Eden waved across the empty space, then sat at her favorite booth. She was dressed in her usual landscaping clothes—jeans, a T-shirt, and boots. Her curly hair was held back in a messy ponytail, looking jet black against her almost colorless skin.

  Miranda grabbed a glass of water before heading over.

  Halfway there, Eden stood up. “What’s wrong?”

  “What do you mean?” Miranda said.

  “You’re walking funny.”

  She shrugged. Eden had troubles of her own. Miranda didn’t want to add to them by telling her about the accident, even though Eden was the only person Miranda could speak with openly. At least for a little while.

  Miranda fought back sudden tears. There was nothing she could do about Eden’s future, but she could at least try to make her present more pleasant.

  When Miranda reached the table, she laughed. “Maybe I had a date last night.”

  Eden took the water and set it down, then gently gripped Miranda’s elbow, guiding her to slide into the booth across from her at the two-seater table.

  “Stop trying to protect me,” Eden said.

  Miranda wiped at her eyes. “I thought I was the psychic.”

  “I don’t need to be psychic. Anyone paying attention can see you’re hurting.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Eden cocked her head to the side. She scrutinized Miranda more closely, blue eyes sharp as a hawk’s.

  “Forget about me,” Miranda said. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Eden crossed her arms and leaned back against the booth. She lifted both eyebrows as if to say, “Two can play at this game.”

  Miranda shook her head. “Working all night on this garden doesn’t seem healthy. Are your doctors okay with you exerting yourself so much?”

  “I can spend my last few months how I want to.”

  “Months?” Miranda’s voice came out high and tight. She coughed to clear her throat.

  Eden didn’t have months left. She had weeks—days, maybe.

  It didn’t make sense. She seemed to be doing relatively well at the moment. How could her illness escalate so quickly?

  Eden shook her head and smiled. “This is my last project. I’m giving it my all, and it’s turning out so beautiful.”

  “I have no doubt of that,” Miranda said.

  Eden was pouring her soul into it. How could it not be?

  “The moonflowers started opening last night.” Her eyes brightened as she went on, the unhealthy pallor of her skin receding a bit. “The full moon is in a few days. The river stones and Artemisia stelleriana are already catching the moonbeams and glowing with this soft silver light.”

  “Arte-what-now?”

  “You probably know it better as Dusty Miller.”

  “I don’t travel in those circles. The only plants I see are in the salad I bring you every night.”

  Eden laughed. “I’m so lucky Shade is letting me take my time with it.”

  “Shade?”

  Her cheeks outright flushed and she looked away. “Mr. Reese.”

  “I see.” Miranda grinned.

  “I can ask him if you can visit some time,” Eden said. “I’d love for you to see it.”

  “That would be nice. I’d never even heard of a moon garden till you started talking about this project.”

  “It’s the first one I’ve worked on.” Eden’s smile grew huge.

  Miranda had never met Shade, but she already loved the guy for making Eden so happy.

  “I selected every plant based on its luminosity.” Eden became even more animated as she continued her description of the garden. “The leaves, flowers—even the rocks we used to make the paths—they’ll all catch and refle
ct the moonlight, glowing brighter as the moon grows full.”

  “It sounds beautiful.”

  “I have pictures!” Eden popped up in her seat. She pulled out her phone and messed with it for a moment, then turned it toward Miranda so she could see.

  The pictures were kind of hard to make out. It looked like the only lighting came from work lights driven into the ground around the site. She could still get a feel for what Eden had described, with the leaves and flower petals reflecting the light a surprising amount.

  “Wait a minute,” Miranda said. “Back up.”

  Eden scrolled back a picture and her face turned pink.

  It was a selfie with Eden standing next to a hottie who seemed like he couldn’t get close enough to her. He had his arm around her shoulders and his head pressed tight to hers.

  What really captured Miranda’s attention were the smiles on both of their faces, though. She’d never seen Eden smile like that.

  Both of them had little crinkles at the corners of their eyes. The guy had deep dimples that made it seem like he laughed a lot. Miranda couldn’t make out the color of his eyes both from the weird flash lighting and how pinched they were from laughter. She could tell that he had straight teeth and a strong jaw and short brownish hair.

  “Is that Shade?” Miranda asked.

  “Yeah.”

  There had been another picture of him in there, Miranda was sure. She reached across the table to scroll back to it. Shade was standing with one hand against his chin, like he was deep in thought. He stared into the distance, enhancing the seriousness of the pose. Except he was wearing a plastic pot on his head.

  “Wow, he’s hot,” Miranda said. “Even with the weird lighting.”

  Eden’s blush was adorable. The pair were undeniably in love. Miranda’s heart felt like it cracked a little, thinking of how little time they would have together.

  “Shade has porphyria,” Eden said.

  Miranda tried to mask her grief with a funny movie reference. “You keep using these words…”

  Eden laughed, then said, “It’s a rare disease that makes him sensitive to light. That’s another reason I’ve been working on the garden at night—so he can join me. He has to avoid sunlight at all costs. It makes it a little hard to take pictures.”