The Mercenary and the Shifters (The Turning Stone Chronicles)

by C. D. Hersh

  “Aye.” She reached for her backpack slung over her shoulder.

  “Not now. Wait until we’re on seven. We’ll chew a big wad and stick it on the camera.”

  The elevator dinged announcing they’d reached the seventh floor. Mike and Mary Kate exited. She handed Mike several sticks of gum and unwrapped some for herself.

  “How are you going to get it on the camera without being seen?” she asked.

  Unzipping the duffel, Mike extracted a ski mask, a brightly colored sweatshirt, and a black hoodie. “We’ll take the stairs to the tenth floor,” he said as he tugged on the sweatshirt. “Then I’ll put the gum on the camera lens. Once I’ve picked the penthouse lock, we’ll be home free.” He handed her the hoodie, indicating she should put it on.

  “Won’t they realize something’s wrong with the camera when it stops recording?” she asked as she pulled the hood over her red hair.

  “Apartment systems generally use the cameras to view problems after they’ve happened. We’ll be gone by then.”

  “And if Falhman’s home?”

  “Use your magic voodoo. We’ll hightail it if you sense anything.”

  They climbed to the tenth floor and waited until the hallway was empty before calling for the elevator. When the door opened and there were no passengers, Mike slipped the ski mask over his head while Mary Kate held the door open and popped the wad of chewing gum out of her mouth. Mike mashed his gum and hers together in his palm, then slipped into the elevator, hugging the wall, and applied the gum to the camera lens.

  The job done, he motioned her inside. The door closed, and she jammed her finger on the close button, holding it there while Mike jimmied the lock. After a couple of seconds, he turned his lock pick tools then pressed the penthouse button. The elevator rose and the doors opened at the top floor.

  “Sense anything?” he asked.

  Mary Kate shook her head.

  “The second you do, let me know and we’re outta here.”

  “Aye.”

  They moved toward the only other door in the hallway. Mike watched Mary Kate closely. She strode forward with confidence, and he wondered how this shifter sensing worked.

  As they neared the door, she shook her head. “Still nothing. I don’t like it. Even if Falhman’s not here, I should be sensing shifters. He’s got a league of rogues serving him, and some of them should be here.”

  When they reached the door Mike tried the handle. Unlocked.

  “I don’t like that either.”

  Easing the door open, they slipped through the entrance. Mike’s gaze cut to Mary Kate and she shook her head. She moved ahead of him, but he stopped her.

  “No shifters doesn’t mean there aren’t bad humans,” he whispered. “Stay behind me.” He didn’t have to be a shifter to feel the bristles coming from her.

  “I can take care of myself,” she whispered. “I don’t need ye.”

  “But I need you. Please do as I ask.” His declaration seemed to soothe her, and she dropped behind him.

  Together they explored the penthouse. No humans or shifters appeared. After a few minutes Mike’s fear of ambush eased, but his anxiety over finding the children mounted, especially when they discovered the empty bureau drawers in the bedrooms.

  Mary Kate sank onto the bed in the last room they checked, her face twisted in pain. “He’s gone.”

  “Seems so.” Sighing, Mike joined her on the mattress. “Any idea where we should search now?”

  “No idea. But we have to let Eli know.” She started to dial, but Mike stopped her.

  “Since he’s gone, let’s make another sweep. Maybe we’ll find a clue. Something positive we can tell Eli.”

  She pocketed her phone and stood. “I’ll check the bedrooms.”

  “I’ll take the office.”

  As Mary Kate started taking out the chest drawers, Mike headed for the office. Executives always had secret security systems, hidden cameras, or wall safes. Something hiding a tidbit of information to help them.

  He searched the wood paneled office methodically, examining the room top to bottom with a trained eye. No additional cameras appeared in the walls and the only safe he found was empty. So much for forgetfulness on Falhman’s part. Then he poked around in the big mahogany desk, probing the edges of each drawer, tapping on the bottoms for hollowness. He found a false bottom in one drawer. Empty.

  The desk phone rang, the chime resonating in the quietness of the room. Mike debated whether or not to answer. As he reached for the receiver, the answering machine kicked on and a heavily brogued Scottish voice spoke.

  “This is Ewan, Mr. Falhman. We’re here with the children, but we’ve car troubles. We’ll not be arriving at yer compound at the expected time. I couldnae reach ye on yer mobile. I thought I’d better ring ye here. Just in case, sir.”

  The caller disconnected. Mike checked the number. Blocked. He dialed *69 to retrace the call.

  “Hullo?” said a Scottish voice.

  “This is Falhman,” Mike said. “There’s been a change of plans. Don’t come to the compound. Meet me at the penthouse instead.”

  “Why are ye nae ringing me on my line?”

  “I’m returning your call from my office. Why aren’t you calling me from your line?”

  “Because ye told me to use a burner phone. Ye also told me what number ye would always call me from. And this is nae it.”

  The line went dead, and Mike slammed the phone into the cradle. A burner phone. The chance to figure out where the kids were had just gone down the toilet. He bolted from the office, shouting Mary Kate’s name.

  “The kids are in the States being delivered to some compound Falhman owns.”

  Relief flooded her face. “At least the wee ones are all right. I’ll let Eli know.” She started to dial the phone then stopped. “Unless ye have more good news we can tell him.”

  “Nothing. I wouldn’t have known that except for a phone call from a Scottish rogue. He was using a burner, and he now knows someone besides Falhman answered his phone.” Mike jerked his thumb toward the door. “We probably should get out of here now.”

  Mary Kate shoved her phone in her pocket as they headed for the elevator. She moved in front of Mike. “I’ll lead the way this time, in case the caller put out an alert.”

  Mike let her lead, softly cursing under his breath. He’d screwed up.

  “Dinna fash yerself,” Mary Kate said. “At least ye got some information. It’s more than we had when we arrived, and it’s more than I found. Ye did good, Butch.”

  At the use of her nickname for him, Mike smiled. He could get used to working with this strong, opinionated woman.

  Chapter 15

  Rhys paced the length of Eli’s jet as if each step depended on Baron’s survival. The plane wasn’t going fast enough. Every passing minute was a minute longer his son was in danger. He had to believe his father wouldn’t hurt his grandson. If not, he would be insane with worry. But how could he believe Falhman wouldn’t harm a child? He’d tried to kill his own son when he wouldn’t bow to the wishes of his power-mad, rogue-shifter father. Rhys ran his hands through his hair and accelerated his pace.

  Eli shoved him onto the long, leather couch. “Sit, laddie, afore ye wear a hole in the bottom o’ me jet and we all fall tae earth in a blazing fire.”

  Rhys popped up and Eli blocked his path. “I have to keep moving or I’ll go crazy.”

  “Ye havetae quit worrying and focus on how we’re going tae rescue the wee ones.”

  Eli’s cell rang. “’Tis Mary Kate,” he said as he thumbed on the phone.

  Every muscle in Rhys’ body wanted to grab Eli’s phone, and shout, Have you found them? Instead, he wrapped his arms around Alexi who had jumped from her seat upon hearing the ring.


  Rhys looked at his wife’s drawn face.

  “It will be good news,” he assured her. It had to be. Otherwise he’d be comforting a crying wife. He hated seeing her cry. He didn’t think he could comfort her properly with all the rage and guilt rushing through him at not being able to protect his family. Was he The Promised One or not?

  Eli’s stoic expression remained rigid as he talked with Mary Kate. Rhys shifted from foot to foot, willing the old man to say something to give him a hint of Mary Kate’s conversation. The short exchange of Eli’s two-word sentences seemed to take an eternity. Finally, Eli hung up the phone and faced Rhys and Alexi.

  “’Tis guid news and bad news.”

  “Spit it out, old man,” Rhys demanded.

  LJ rose and joined them. Alexi put her arm around her.

  “The bad news ’tis Falhman has left the penthouse. Cleared out his clothes and office.”

  Rhys’ chest constricted. Alexi and LJ gasped.

  “The guid news ’tis they have a clue as tae his whereabouts. ’Tisn’t much, but ’tis mair than we might have had. Apparently, Falhman has a country compound where he’s taken the bairns. We dinna know where. That ’twill be the focus o’ our search. Tae find this place and find the wee ones. Mayhap we can use yer Cleveland police contacts tae help us in the search,” he said to Alexi.

  “We could contact Gladys, if she’s still at the office. She’d do anything for Rhys,” Alexi said. LJ gave her a questioning stare and Alexi added, “She’s sweet on him. Has been for years. She’ll be ecstatic when he returns.”

  “Sounds like a guid start on a plan. Rhys, do ye have any P.I. contacts ye can use?”

  “Probably. I’ll need to access my home office to get them.”

  “Guid. When we land, we’ll head fer yer hoose and establish a base.”

  “I’ll call Gladys. I have her number in my cell,” said Rhys. Alexi stared at him. “What?” he asked. “She was the office administrative assistant. The go-to girl. Having her number is perfectly normal.”

  Alexi harrumphed. “I have it because I was Captain. After you left why did you need it?”

  “A good P.I. cultivates his sources,” Rhys replied. “If I’d left her high and dry when we ran, she wouldn’t be willing to help me. It’s coming in handy now.”

  “Bairns, quit yer squabbling,” Eli ordered. “We’ve more at stake here than petty jealousy. Make the call, Rhys.”

  “Sugar,” Gladys said after Rhys had identified himself. “I’m so glad to hear from you. I thought you’d died. Don’t ever scare me like that again. Where have you been the past two years?”

  “Hiding from bad guys. But I’m coming to Cleveland. I need your help.”

  “Anything for you, sugar.”

  “Can you access some property records for me?”

  “Anything but that. We’ve got new management, not as good as you and your wife, if you get my drift. I’ve been locked out of the computer systems. They had the nerve to demote me to mere secretary. Get my coffee. File this paper. Take dictation.” Her voice whined like a muted tornado alert. “If I even think about touching a computer I get my hands slapped.”

  A knot formed in his gut. “Are you talking dirty cops?”

  “As a pig sty. Me and Martin are the only ones left from the old crew, and most of the time I don’t know about him.”

  “How’d you manage to stay on?”

  “I dug in my heels and went to the union when they tried to shaft me. I wasn’t going anywhere, because I knew if you ever returned, this is where you’d look for me. And here you are. What’s going on, sugar?”

  “Given what you’ve told me, it’s probably not safe to say at the moment. Do you have a cell number?”

  “Sure. You want it?”

  “Not now. I’ll be in town soon. When’s your next day off?”

  “Two days.”

  “Meet me at the coffee shop around the corner from the precinct office at noon. I’ll explain then.”

  “Is she with you?”

  The note of hopefulness in her voice, which he knew was not directed at Alexi being alive, bothered him. “Yes, she is. We have a surprise. I hope you’ll be okay with it.”

  Gladys sighed. “Guess it will have to be enough that you need me. Both of you. See you then, sugar. Take care.”

  “We will. Thank you, Gladys.”

  “Anything for you, sugar.”

  He disconnected the phone and faced the group. “Gladys is probably not going to be much help. She says the precinct is crawling with dirty cops who have forced her out of the position she held when we were there. She doesn’t have computer access anymore.”

  “We’ll havetae do it the hard way then.”

  “Hard way?” Alexi said. “Is any of this going to be easy?”

  “Nae. First thing we’ll do is scout fer concentrations o’ shifters. Rhys can hunt from the air. Donaline and I ’twill search street by street. Alexi ’twill wait until her arm has healed to search. I want tae be certain she could escape as a bird if she comes on a group o’ rogues.”

  “What about me?” LJ asked. “What can I do?”

  “Ye’ll need tae stay out o’ the way, lassie. Ye havenae the skills tae be part o’ this search.”

  “You can’t shove me aside,” LJ said. “My son is missing, too.”

  “Aye, and when we find him he’ll need his mither. Your job is tae stay safe. Ye canna do that if ye try tae go up agin that which ye canna see.”

  LJ’s face clouded over, dark as a summer storm sky. Alexi put her arm over the woman’s shoulder. “He’s right. I’ll need some company while I heal. We can worry about them together.”

  “Fine,” LJ replied with a pout.

  Something in her voice told Rhys it wasn’t fine. He scanned her aura. Bright lemon yellow with brownish gold tints radiated from her. She was struggling to maintain control and very stressed. He made a note to talk to Eli about giving LJ a real job in their search. If she wasn’t included in a meaningful way, Rhys was certain they would have trouble with her. The last thing they needed was an angry woman going off on her own.

  After instructing the man George had assigned to tail Falhman to continue keeping watch, Mike dropped Mary Kate off at a local hotel, promising to take her to rent a car in the morning. Then he headed to Fiona Kayler’s house.

  A new living room window reflected the now-bright security lights marching around the perimeter of the house like soldiers. All evidence someone had shot at them had been cleared from the flowerbeds beneath the window. Mike rang the doorbell. When no one answered, he checked out the car parked along the drive and made a note of the license plate and vehicle make and model. Fiona hadn’t mentioned she expected company. He moved his motorcycle to the edge of the drive and settled in against the front door to wait.

  As he leaned against the carved panels, he spotted a camera perched in the corner of the overhang. George had been busy in his absence. He made a note to give him a bonus for quick work.

  His thoughts wandered to the night he’d first stood at this door and Fiona had leveled her pistol at him. In the past three days he’d been faced down by two fiery redheads. Alike, but not alike. A shape shifter and someone who knew about the Turning Stone world, but wasn’t a part of it. He had a lot in common with Fiona, in that respect. Except he had the sense to steer clear of them. She didn’t.

  He spiked up his crew cut, sorting out what he knew about the two women. His gut told him they were connected somehow, but aside from Fiona being involved with OmniWorld, a bad shifter organization by all accounts, he couldn’t explain the unsettled feelings about her. Unless the feelings weren’t about her, but for her.

  He shoved the idea aside. He didn’t have time for relationships. His life was going from one j
ob to another, wherever they were. Hooking up with women was not part of the equation—at least on a permanent basis, and he never hooked up with anyone he had the slightest interest in. Both of these women interested him in different ways.

  Lights bounced on the trees at the edge of the drive. Mike stood and checked his watch. Two a.m. Who was arriving at this time in the morning? He kicked up the stand on the motorbike and wheeled it behind the driveway bushes. Grabbing his weapon from the duffel, he ducked out of sight.

  The car stopped in front of the stoop, and George got out of the driver’s door. Mike rose, the motion cut short as the rear passenger door opened. Another man leapt out, raced to the opposite passenger side, and helped a woman exit. Mike’s heart clenched as he recognized Fiona. She smiled at the man, her expression clearly showing she enjoyed his company. He wrapped his arm around her and led her to the front door. George got into the car and drove to the side garage entrance.

  Close enough to hear their conversation, Mike tried to block it out. Fiona’s laughter was impossible to mute, and he found himself straining to hear what she said to the man she obviously thought funny. He parted the bushes in time to see her tip up her chin and receive a kiss.

  A flash of jealousy surged though him like lightning, and Mike averted his face. He wanted to bolt from his hiding place and throw a protective arm around her, but he didn’t.

  He knew George would have checked out whoever stood on the stoop with her. If the man kissing her wasn’t sterling silver, George would not have let them be together in his presence, much less alone. No. She wasn’t in danger.

  He was in danger.

  In danger of losing his heart.

  In danger of screwing up this job.

  Mike crammed his emotions into the depths of his soul. She was a job. Just a job.