by Paige Tyler
None of it had mattered. Olivia had gone missing in the middle of the night and whoever kidnapped her had left the two men guarding the building dead, their throats torn out. The way the men had been killed—along with the mystery of how the kidnappers had gotten into the apartment—had immediately put the crime on STAT’s radar, since it looked like the handiwork of supernatural creatures.
After seeing autopsy photos of the guards’ bodies, Jes had no doubt some kind of paranormal was involved in the kidnapping, but that didn’t make it any easier to track down the thing. Especially since Olivia’s parents had stopped cooperating with law enforcement within twenty-four hours of the girl’s disappearance, claiming they were doing it on the advice of legal counsel. Jes thought it was more likely because the kidnappers had contacted them to negotiate a ransom and warned them not to involve the cops. Considering the father worked for MI5, it was also possible he was freezing out the locals and letting the British version of the FBI handle the investigation.
Not that it mattered who was running the case for the Brits. Jes and her team were here for one reason—to determine if there were supernatural elements at play and deal with them accordingly. Because that’s what STAT did: figured out what scary thing they were dealing with and made it go away.
“All right, let’s call it a night. Wrap up whatever you’re doing and meet back at the car.” She sighed. “We’ll come back tomorrow and check out the area again, this time in the daylight. I doubt we’ll find anything, but maybe we’ll get lucky and someone might remember seeing something.”
Jaime and Neal agreed, sounding as frustrated as she felt. Both of the guys had been with STAT for over a year and knew how bad it could be in the real world when things that went bump in the night targeted their prey. Olivia had been missing for so long, even one more night could mean the difference between getting the girl back alive or not.
Jes continued along the alley, checking out the rear entrances to a series of low-cost government housing buildings that looked like they hadn’t seen a legitimate tenant in years. The doors were nailed shut, the windows boarded up, and there wasn’t a single light to be seen inside or out. If there was a place in this neighborhood where a supernatural creature might hang out, it’d be here. But when she stopped every so often and peeked through the cracks between the wooden slats over the windows, shining her small flashlight inside, she didn’t see anyone.
She was heading toward the grassy side of the apartment building to meet up with the rest of her team when she heard a low, menacing growl over her earpiece that chilled her to the core. It was immediately followed by gunshots, then shouting.
Jaime and Neal.
Crap!
Pulse pounding, Jes pulled her Sig 9mm with her free hand, clicking off the safety with her thumb as she raced across the scrubby grass in the direction of the sound. She rounded the corner of the building to find herself face-to-face with construction equipment, trash-filled dumpsters, and a handful of big, metal storage pods. As she weaved her way through the maze, she realized the growls and gunfire had ceased and all that was left was an eerie silence. She fervently prayed that meant Jaime and Neal had taken down whatever the hell they’d come across.
But if they had, why hadn’t they called out all clear over the radio?
“Jaime? Neal? Do you copy?”
No answer.
Double crap!
Jes smelled the blood before she saw the two bodies lying motionless on the ground near one of the dumpsters. She ran toward them, her heart in her throat. If she could pick up the odor of blood, there had to be a bucketload of it.
There was.
Dark red pools of it that looked black even in the glow of her flashlight.
Damn, she hated being right.
Knowing her teammates were almost assuredly dead but needing to check all the same, she crouched beside Jaime when movement near one of the storage containers caught her attention. She jerked her head up to see something big and hulking in the darkness less than fifteen feet away. That same low growl she’d heard before rumbled from its chest as it gazed at her with glowing yellow eyes, and a chill ran along her spine.
Jes brought up her weapon, resting it on the hand that held the flashlight, and pulled the trigger in quick succession, knowing there was no way she could miss at this distance. But the creature disappeared before the bullets could find their mark. One moment, it was there, and the next, it was gone. Before she’d even gotten a good look at it.
As fast as the thing moved, it could easily come at her from a dozen different directions, but she couldn’t worry about that. One or both of her teammates might be alive. All that mattered was helping them.
But when she turned her flashlight on Jaime and Neal, she realized it was too late. Whatever had killed them had savagely torn out their throats. They had been dead before they’d hit the ground.
She swallowed hard and pulled out her phone, thumbing the speed-dial button for the STAT emergency operation center in Washington, DC as she scanned the area around her for the creature that had killed her teammates.
“This is Agent Ridley,” she said. “Two agents are down and I need a cleanup team out here ASAP. Tell McKay we have confirmed supernatural involvement. I’m going to need backup.”
* * *
Washington, DC
Jake Huang cursed silently as he strode down yet another hallway on the fourth floor of the J. Edgar Hoover building. How the hell was he going to find the conference room where he was supposed to meet with his new boss in this damn maze? He supposed he could ask one of the other FBI agents who zipped past him in their perfect professional clothes with their perfectly styled hair and perfectly shined shoes, but ultimately, he couldn’t bring himself to admit he didn’t know his way around the place yet. He was a federal agent now. Shouldn’t he know this kind of stuff?
Then again, maybe he should cut himself a break. He’d only been in DC for less than a week and had spent most of that time trying to find a place for him and the twins to live. His boss, Nathan McKay, had given him a quick whirlwind tour of the huge FBI headquarters, then told him to focus on getting settled before worrying about the job. Of course, that was before McKay had called this morning telling him he had thirty minutes to be at the office.
So much for getting settled in.
If it were just him, Jake would have grabbed the first apartment he could find close to work and called it a day, but he had other people in his life now, namely Zoe and Chloe Haynes, the eighteen-year-old beta werewolves he’d rescued from a vampire coven and recently become responsible for. Bringing teenage werewolves who’d gone through their first change barely two months ago to a city as big as Washington, DC was crazy to say the least, but that’s what it meant when an alpha stumbled across betas who needed him. They became a pack and a huge part of each other’s lives.
When McKay had offered him a position on the joint FBI/CIA Special Threat Assessment Team—aka STAT—the first thing he’d done was ask Zoe and Chloe what they thought. If they’d been against the idea, he would have walked away from the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Even though it meant uprooting the life they’d just started in Dallas, the twins had urged him to take the job. The girls were thrilled at the idea of living in the nation’s capital, while he was excited to have a job that would let him openly reveal his werewolf nature and use the abilities that came with it.
Jake turned down another long hallway, sure he’d covered every square foot of the floor he was on, when he picked up a familiar scent—werewolves. One female alpha. One male omega. Doubting there could be many people like him wandering around the building, he let his nose lead him in the right direction.
He chided himself for not thinking of using his keen sense of smell before this. Then again, he’d only recently started embracing his werewolf side. Ever since he’d first turned four years ago, he’d done his be
st to forget what he’d become.
He half closed his eyes, letting his sense of smell take over and guide him in the right direction. That not only let him shut out a lot of the external distractions so he could focus on the two scents, instead of everything going on around him, but it also kept anyone from freaking out if they noticed his dark eyes were now bright golden yellow. Having someone see him walking the halls like he was stoned wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t as bad as them realizing his eyes were glowing like some sort of creature on Halloween.
Fortunately, nobody seemed to notice one way or the other.
A few moments later, he walked into a small conference room to find Harley Grant and Caleb Lynch waiting for him. McKay, thankfully, was nowhere in sight. At least Jake wasn’t late.
“Either of you have any idea what McKay wants to see us about?” Jake asked as he sat down across the table from the two werewolves he was somehow supposed to form a pack with even though they’d just met a few days ago.
As if all it took was shoving the three of them in a small room together and waiting for magic to happen.
Jake wasn’t an expert on the subject, but from what he’d heard, werewolves were normally drawn together naturally, finding each other without having to work at it. Kind of like him with Zoe and Chloe. But McKay had hired him and the other two werewolves with the expectation that they’d form a pack. Probably because McKay had recently worked with another pack of werewolves—namely the Dallas PD SWAT Team—and seen how impressive the results could be when people like them worked together.
“No clue.” Caleb leaned back in his chair, casually propping the sole of his boot on the edge of the table. Tall, with dark eyes and a perpetual smirk, his shaggy, dark blond hair looked like it hadn’t seen a brush in a week. “McKay said it was something urgent, but it’s been an hour since he brought us in here, so I guess it can’t be that urgent.”
Jake winced. “That’s probably my fault. He called me forty-five minutes ago, but it took me a while to get here. All I know is that he’s got a mission for us.”
Caleb looked like he couldn’t care less about Jake’s excuse or the mission. Actually, he didn’t look like he gave a damn about anything.
That was par for the course with omega werewolves. And Caleb was a prototypical omega. Big, strong, and as fast as any alpha, he was barely able to keep his inherent werewolf nature under control, not to mention he was nearly incapable of caring about anybody but himself. Loners by choice, omegas rarely formed pack bonds. Jake could only imagine how much fun it was going to be trying to get the man integrated into the team.
To make matters worse, Caleb was a convicted criminal. The only reason he wasn’t in jail right now was because he’d agreed to work for STAT. One screwup and the man would go straight back to prison. Jake didn’t know exactly what the other werewolf had done to get him tossed in a cell or why the commander of the Dallas SWAT Team had vouched for him, but he had, and now, Caleb was Jake’s problem.
Jake glanced at the third member of their dysfunctional pack to see if she had anything to add to the discussion. From the disinterested look on the pretty blond werewolf’s face, Harley didn’t seem to care any more than Caleb did about the meeting.
He wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn’t. While he’d only talked to the female alpha for a while the first day they’d met, Jake could already tell gaining her trust wasn’t going to be easy. From the little she’d said about her werewolf abilities, he got the feeling she’d yet to accept her inner wolf. He couldn’t shake the sensation that Harley didn’t like what she was. It made him wonder what the hell McKay had said to get her to agree to the job.
Jake opened his mouth to ask if either Caleb or Harley had found a place to live yet—because the silence was starting to get uncomfortable and it seemed like a safe thing to talk about—when the door to the conference room opened and their boss walked in. Brown hair sporting a touch of gray at the temples, McKay appeared every inch the federal agent, right down to the black suit and wire-rimmed glasses.
Harley sat up a little straighter.
Caleb didn’t even have the good sense to take his foot off the table—nice to confirm he did indeed have the social graces of a sea slug.
Two other agents were with McKay, a man and woman, both of whom were probably in their mid- to late-twenties. Six feet tall with dark hair, a square jaw, and blue eyes that looked like they didn’t miss a thing, the guy looked like someone central casting would give you if you asked for a standard-issue FBI agent, dark suit and red power tie included.
The woman, on the other hand, was different. In fact, the only thing “standard issue” about the petite agent was the navy-blue pantsuit she wore. And while Jake wasn’t an expert on the FBI or CIA, he was pretty sure her vivid purple hair wasn’t the norm. But that wasn’t the only thing unique about her. Nope. Her eyes were purple, too. Lavender, actually. At first, he thought she was wearing contacts but then realized the color was real.
Considering STAT had recently recruited werewolves, it wasn’t surprising to think they hired other supernaturals. Maybe the unique-looking woman was more different than she appeared.
“Sorry I’m late,” McKay apologized.
He closed the door, then flipped a switch on the control panel beside it. A moment later, a high-pitched hum filled the room, making Jake wince. On the other side of the table, Harley and Caleb mirrored his reaction. Shrill noises and keen hearing didn’t mix, but the meeting must be seriously classified if McKay was going with a frequency jammer to keep anyone else from picking up their conversation.
“Jake Huang, Harley Grant, Caleb Lynch, meet two more members of the team—Forrest Albright and Mistal Swanson.” McKay pulled out the rolling chair at the head of the table and took a seat. “Forrest was FBI for almost five years before joining STAT a year and a half ago. Misty has been with the organization a little less than that.”
While McKay fiddled with the keyboard on the table in front of him, trying to boot up the computer connected to the huge screen on the front wall, Misty sat down in the empty chair next to Jake. Forrest sat beside her.
“What about you, Misty?” Caleb said, casually eyeing the woman across from him. “McKay didn’t say where you worked before joining STAT.”
Mistal flipped her long, colorful hair over her shoulder and turned her gaze on the omega. “McKay recruited me after I graduated from college because of my unique abilities.”
That was cryptic, Jake thought. Harley seemed just as curious. “What abilities are those?”
At the far end of the table, McKay finished tapping on the keyboard as the STAT organization’s logo filled the screen, along with several warnings about protecting classified information and sensitive sources.
“Misty is a technopath,” their new boss said, as if that explained everything. When Jake and his fellow werewolves continued to stare at him, McKay added, “She’s similar to a telepath, only she reads electronic equipment, not people.”
Jake had no idea what the hell McKay was talking about. At least Harley and Caleb seemed equally confused.
“Okay,” Jake said. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”
McKay looked at Misty. “Want to give them a demonstration?”
Lips curving, Misty held her hand out to Jake. “Give me your cell phone.”
He’d just upgraded his phone before moving there, so he didn’t want Misty blowing it up or anything. But he had to admit he was curious, so he dug it out of his pocket and handed it to her. Before his eyes, Misty’s lavender irises went completely white, making her seem even more supernatural.
“Your pass code is 1-2-3-4? Seriously?” She laughed. “Not that there’s much in here to protect. A contact list with a dozen names and a handful of photos, all of them with the same two kids—twin girls. You’re in some of them. And you’re smiling.” Misty’s eyes ret
urned to their normal lavender as she handed the phone back to him. “You should smile more often. It’s a good look on you.”
Jake stared at her, not sure what to say to that. Hell, he didn’t even understand what he’d heard.
“I can access any electronic device I touch,” she explained. “And since the Internet connects everything and everyone, that means I can get into pretty much anywhere and anything if I want to.”
“So you’re basically a hacker?” Caleb’s voice was casual as usual, but Jake got the feeling he was impressed.
Misty gave him a smile. “Yes. Although I prefer the word technopath.”
“How is that even possible?” Harley asked, a stunned expression on her face.
Misty opened her mouth to answer, but McKay interrupted.
“I understand you all have questions, and any other time, I’d have the whole team get to know each other, but unfortunately, that’s not an option right now. We have a situation in London. Two STAT agents are dead. I need to get your team up to speed and on a plane ASAP.”
Jake sat up straighter.
Shit just got real.
Fast.
And they were going to have to learn how to be a team and work together—fast.
He shoved his phone in his pocket. “What do we have?”
McKay pushed a button on the keyboard. The moment a photo of a red-haired teen girl with freckles appeared on the screen, their boss went into briefing mode, telling them fourteen-year-old Olivia Phillips had recently been kidnapped and that the security guards for her apartment building had their throats ripped out.
“At approximately 0200 this morning London time, our STAT team was attacked by an unknown supernatural.” McKay flipped to another slide, this one of two men lying on the ground with their throats torn out, blood soaking their ragged clothes.
He moved to the next slide, a photo of a beautiful woman with full, pouty lips, long dark hair, and even darker eyes. Jake was so locked on the picture he barely heard what McKay was saying until he realized the woman was the third member of the team in London. Which meant she was soon going to be his teammate. His heart suddenly hammered in his chest at the thought.
