by Judy Mills
"You'll be support outside the perimeter."
"I can't shoot anyone from there. Have you seen the wall around his mansion?"
"Have you seen how many mercenary Weres he employs?" I countered.
"Over a dozen. But that's not the point."
I gave him my best hard ass look.
"But—"
"Keep arguing and you won't even be backup."
Facon shut his mouth.
"Good. Now I need to see Chiwa."
* * *
After promising Falcon about a million times that I wasn't going to tell Chiwa she couldn't go to school anymore, he arranged for her to stop by the shop before school the next day. I snuck in the usual way and waited in the storage area for her to show up.
The door squeaked open and Chiwa poked her head in. When she saw me, she slipped inside, careful to close the door behind her. She didn't want Falcon knowing about my investigation any more than I did.
Her face reflected a collage of emotions to a level only an adolescent could manage—worry, hope, fear, distrust. I couldn't fault her for any of them.
Falcon and she didn't have a guardian and if anyone found out, the shop would be shut down and they'd both be shipped off to foster care. I planned to lie my heart out about it.
From where I stood, there was no reason for her to know. In a year, Falcon would be eighteen and he could take the necessary steps to get legal guardianship. I was sure it wouldn't take much for Chiwa's father to sign legal custody over. My guess was he'd be relieved to do it.
But for now, the kid didn't need something that distressing hanging over her head. She hadn't done anything wrong. She didn't deserve to have her world end at twelve years old.
"I found Uncle Ben," I said.
Her hands fisted at her sides and she tensed like she was bracing herself for a slap in the face. It made me wonder how many times that had happened to her. Anger at whoever had done it tightened in my gut. I was doing the right thing not to tell her how tenuous her current happiness was.
"Where?" she whispered.
"On his way to Franz Josef Land. It was hard to locate him."
"Is he alive or not?"
Hoo boy. "He's looking out for you. He just can't make contact very often."
She watched me, her gaze assessing. "I understand."
I wanted to think that meant I could relax.
"That day when you saw me. You'd come to get Falcon," she said. "Someone was going to hurt him."
Aw, hell. My stomach dropped about two inches as regret and embarrassment plowed into me. That day I'd been so caught up in the after rush of Bellmonte threatening everyone, I hadn't thought to sensor what I was saying, even when I noticed Chiwa hiding behind the tarot cards. My own childhood had been so brief, I tended to forget how to act around normal, or even sort of normal kids.
"Um..."
"Who was going to hurt him?" she asked.
For the first time, I saw genuine concern on her face for someone besides herself. I didn't know what to do, so I did the last thing I should have. I panicked.
"A very bad person is using your school to find talented kids so he can make drugs."
Her eyes widened and that cold pit in my stomach rolled up into my throat. "But it's okay," I added. "We've got it under control. We're going to stop him."
"I want to help."
"You can't."
Determination settled around her mouth and I did not like seeing it. "I can do things."
"I know that. But this is dangerous," I said firmly.
That blaze of stubborn mis-placed confidence flared to life in her eyes.
Oh, crap. "It's not like we got an invitation with a map attached. This way to the drug factory. Here's your pass. We can't involve you, Chiwa. End of discussion."
"Okay," she said, her voice calm.
"What?"
"I understand."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "No, you don't. You think the stupid adults can't take care of this."
"Technically you're not adults. Well, you are. Kind of. But not Falcon."
She was up to something. I could feel it. I just didn't know what it was. But a scared feeling in my gut told me it would probably not end well.
I had no idea how to fix this. The only references I had for how adults controlled children were old sitcoms from before the attacks. "We'll just see about that...young lady," I sputtered.
I marched past her to the door and opened it. "Falcon!"
He looked up from the counter, startled.
I pointed at Chiwa. "She's grounded."
* * *
Without breaking my promise to Falcon that we wouldn't forbid Chiwa from going to school, I couldn't reasonably justify him keeping her under lock and key. A feeling something bad might happen if she went wasn't a strong defense. And with her standing there looking innocently puzzled, I'd ended up huffing and puffing a bit and then admitting that it was all joke and I hoped she had a good day at school.
So lame. How did Claire Dunphy do it?
After clumsily dodging Falcon's questions, I told him that I had to meet someone but would be back the next night, ready to move forward with our plans. This was why I avoided entanglements and anything to do with families. Nothing but a snarly jungle of complications ever came of it.
As a nice change to what my life had recently turned into, I reached safe house fifty-three without a hitch. From the branches of the large tree that towered next to it, I studied the deserted, beat-up structure.
The hideaway was one of the newest in our lineup. We'd never used it, which meant a higher chance that it hadn't been compromised. Nothing was ever fool-proof though, and with cops after me and assassins after Cooper, I wasn't interested in taking any chances.
From my perch, I saw no signs of a struggle in the small, weedy yard or around the house. No broken windows. No broken doors. Better still, everything felt...peaceful.
Cool.
I ran along one of the branches that brushed the roof and jumped toward the center of the roof. Grabbing the edge of the eaves, I swung into the open window on the upper floor.
My butt brushed the sill and I landed on my feet in a clean, orderly, comfortably furnished bedroom. Cooper lounged on the large bed that stood against one wall. He was beautifully, wonderfully naked.
"What took you so long?" he asked.
"Been a busy two days. I have a lot to report."
"Tell me later. It's about to get busier."
* * *
Margaret Stillman watched the safe house and surrounding area as she processed what Marc had just told her. To some extent she felt she had a right to the emotional turmoil colliding around in the center of her chest. She'd dedicated her life to the Clan and therefore to Cooper. The news her old and trusted colleague had just given her was not welcomed information.
Taking her attention off the deserted neighborhood around them, she shifted to a more comfortable position on the slope of the roof and glanced at him. "What you're saying is impossible."
"When the vampire threatened to claim her, he nearly lost control," Marc growled.
She'd never witnessed Cooper losing control and she'd seen him deal with a wide range of problems including kidnappings and murders. It was hard to picture. "I've seen the scanner results. She's human. No question."
"When did you start trusting human technology over your Prince's instincts?"
Margaret bristled at that. She'd been part of Cooper's entourage since they'd both started shifting. "A prince second, a man first with a man's instincts. That doesn't mean he's mated."
Marc gave her an amused look and she wasn't sure whether to be ashamed of her assumption or more offended that he was laughing at her. "So, driven only by sex, all men are basically flawed?"
"Being a man makes him...vulnerable," she said, scowling.
"We all dream of finding that vulnerability someday. All but you, Maggie."
She dreamed of it, though not in a way he'd ever unde
rstand. "She's not capable of being bonded. She can't feel what Cooper feels. What will that do to him? To the Clan? As a human—"
"If she is."
Margaret's heart seemed to catch in her throat. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing. Just the prodding of a flawed male's instincts." He turned away from her and studied the house where Addison and Cooper were enjoying their current rendezvous.
"The world's a new place, Maggie. We become new with it, or we die. The only thing that never changes is truth."
He settled more comfortably on the roof and gazed across the ruined remains of a neighborhood playground toward the safe house. "But you're right. Sometimes things are exactly as they appear to be. Though usually not."
* * *
The morning sun streamed in through the safe house window and I snuggled deeper into Cooper's chest. It had been a great night.
"Safe house six in two days?" he said, his voice rumbling through his chest.
"I might even be early."
He pulled me closer. "Now that I'm temporarily kicked out of the Bureau, I can admit something. I was hoping that you'd break into the school."
"Yeah. I figured that."
"I'll make contact with Laswell."
"I'll flush him out. You alert the FBI anonymously."
"It's Clan business now."
I pulled away from him so that I could see his face. "No, you're trying to protect me again."
"If Laswell's guilty, the Weres working for him have overstepped the line. I have to address that."
"Your job is to keep from getting killed. I have resources. I'll be fine."
His expression closed down. Going blank in a way I hadn't seen since before we were dating. "Resources. Like Bellmonte?"
"What does it matter?"
"He wants you," he growled and the hairs stood up on the back of my neck.
I ignored them and gave him an equally fierce look. "Tough. He can't have me."
"Which won't stop him. You know that."
"You're such an idiot." I pushed away from him and got out of the bed. I didn't have time for jealousy-crazed Weres. "Getting me to come willingly is the game he's playing. He won't spoil that for himself by forcing me."
"You can push him too far. If you do, he's capable of anything."
"Stay away from Laswell's, Cooper. I'll handle it. And back off on the big protective male shit. It's pissing me off."
I collected my clothes from the floor. Turning my back, I pulled on my underwear and shrugged into my bra. In a blur of movement, Cooper left the bed and landed in front of me.
His hands wrapped around my upper arms and he tensed like he wanted to shake sense into me. "I will protect you, Addison. Like it or not."
"I don't." I slammed my heel down on his instep and pulled out of his grip. I hated being smothered. He knew that and yet here he was getting all overbearing on me.
"I hate your luck," he said, pulling me into his arms. "I'll do everything I can to keep you safe." He smelled like woods and lust and male, and I started to cave.
"If I see you near Laswell's tonight, I'll shoot you," I said, telling myself to stand tough.
His soft lips brushed across mine and I pushed against the muscles of his chest, though not with as much conviction as I should have. He smiled and I had a moment to catch my breath before he swooped in and devoured me.
His kiss sank into my senses and heat bloomed in my belly, sweeping over me in a tidal wave of love and longing. I couldn't help myself. I melted against him.
After a moment, the guilt of giving in so easily managed to claw its way past all the yummy feelings and I jerked out of his arms. He gave me a triumphant grin and I gave him the finger.
Muttering insults while he laughed, I yanked on the rest of my clothes, glaring at him here and there for good measure. "I was taking care of myself before you came along, you know. I can take care of myself after you're gone," I reminded him.
Cooper swallowed down his amusement, though barely, and hunted down his pants. "There, you see? That's the flaw in your reasoning." He tugged on his jeans. "I'm not going anywhere."
I strapped on my gun. "Maybe you'll get yourself killed. Maybe you just won't show up. It doesn't matter. The result's the same. Everyone leaves eventually. Life always plays out that way."
Cooper's gaze hit me, his silver-green eyes intense. He seemed about to move toward me, but then he turned away and focused on finishing getting dressed.
Grief flickered through me. Why did I always push him away?
I bit down on my regret and finished securing my weapons. When I was sure everything was where it should be and in easy access, I headed for the window.
"I'll see you in two days," I said, unable to look at him. I felt his gaze though, heating through my back and into my heart as I swung my legs over the sill and escaped.
CHAPTER NINE
Falcon and I crouched at the edge of the woods that had once been an upper middle class neighborhood. Through a pair of night vision binoculars, I scanned the farmland sweeping from the forest to a wall that we knew would be buzzing with defensive magic. Beyond the wall, was the property once known as Duke Mansion, now the home of Jacob Laswell.
Pristine white and classically majestic, the house was palatial in scope. I could see why Laswell had snapped it up while the fighting was still hot and heavy and Charlotte's frightened human leaders were desperate for funding. He'd then cleverly made sure that stealing a state treasure caused no bad feelings by setting the estate up as a practitioner garrison during the war. Once the unsavory paranormal elements were defeated, he renovated the property back to its original condition and made it his private residence.
"It's too quiet," I said, lowering the binoculars.
"I did a thorough investigation of Laswell's security," Falcon whispered. "There should be three guards patrolling outside the gate right now. Five more on the grounds. Four in the house—"
"Feels wrong." I sniffed the air. There was a metallic sharpness to it. "Smells wrong, too."
"Nothing weird about you doing that or anything."
"I'm going in."
"We should ditch the plan. What if you're walking into a trap?" he said, worry in his voice.
"Traps don't smell like blood."
"Depends on what you're trying to catch."
* * *
The Laswell palace had a gate that looked strong enough to withstand a siege. Good thing I'd left my catapult and battering ram at home.
Singing off-key, I stumbled up to the wrought iron monstrosity like I was drunk. I careened to a stop, surreptitiously noting the ominous, looping designs running through the iron and their eerie similarity to the ones on the protective grates of Falcon's shop.
"I need to pee," I said to the gate.
I swayed there for a moment and then stared up at the wall. "Hello? Don't you have, like, forty bathrooms in there? I need to pee!"
Not a twitch of movement from any direction. Maybe no one was home.
Only one way to find out.
"Let me in!" I kicked with drunken clumsiness at the seam of the gate. Giving a low creak, the two halves of the gate slowly swung open.
I gave one of them a tentative jab with my hand and it opened wider. I waited for someone to call me on it. Nothing.
Something was definitely up.
Drawing my Browning, I inched forward and stopped inside the parameter. "Oh, crap."
The bodies of four guards lay scattered across the lawn leading up to the house, another one sprawled half in, half out of the now bloody fountain in front of the entrance. Some were naked with shredded, bloody clothes scattered near them. Others were killed before they could shift.
I keyed my gun to vamp and moved through the carnage, alert and tense.
At the front steps, I picked my way around another body on the steps. One side of the double front doors had been torn from its hinges and thrown down the stairs. The other side hung tenaciously from its last hinge, bangi
ng against the house fitfully in a stray breeze. Whoever had done this hadn't held back. They'd hit fast, viciously and with purpose.
I slipped inside the doors, and the smell of death intensified. More bodies. More blood. And signs of a fight.
I pulled out my iC and called Falcon. "They're all dead," I said when he answered. "Smells like a butcher shop."
"Get out, Addison. Anyone who can take down a team of Were mercenaries is not someone to mess with."
I focused on the quiet buzz of energy in the middle of my body and let my senses roam through the house while I focused on my intuition, something I'd been secretly working on since last summer when a rampaging god had nearly killed me. A glimmer of energy from the fight still remained, stuck to the walls, the furniture, the bodies—I felt purpose, brutality, a thread of triumph and a lot of fear.
I blinked and pulled in a long breath. "No. They got what they came for," I told him. Crossing the foyer, I pushed a body over with my foot. It was stiff like hardened clay.
"They were hit at least three hours ago. Probably more," I said into the phone.
"A couple hours after sunset," Falcon concluded. "Before Laswell was due to leave for the benefit party."
I headed up the curved, elegant staircase stained with blood.
"Addison, please get out," he said, his voice genuinely worried. I appreciated the sentiment, but running wouldn't get the job done.
"Where did you say Laswell's office was?"
His sigh whispered through the phone. "Up the stairs, to the left. Down the hall. First double doors on the right. Jeez you're stubborn."
"One of my finer qualities."
* * *
The double doors weren't locked and opened easily onto an immaculately appointed office fit for a business mogul. I edged in, weapon ready. A quick sweep showed me that nothing significant had been disturbed except the overturned executive's chair behind the desk.
"Empty," I said into my iC.
The old-fashioned phone sitting on the desk rang.
"Is that a phone?" Falcon said in my ear.
