CAGED (Mackenzie Grey #2)

by Karina Espinosa

  “None of it matters, Ace, because I’ll never get enough of you,” he said as he slammed me down onto him. I screamed into the empty apartment as my eyes flashed silver in pleasure. I couldn’t get enough either.

  ***

  The afternoon sun filtered in through the slits of the curtains. Cold arms wrapped me up against a brick of ice. Roman held on to me as if he feared losing me and I wished these small moments were enough, but they weren’t.

  When I moved to LA, staying with Roman was supposed to be temporary until Lucian could find me my own place. But as the nights went by, and my dreams were plagued by nightmares of Caleb—the skinwalker I had killed—I had trouble falling asleep. I wasn’t completely over Caleb, but the nightmares were few and far between. And once I began working with the LAPD, I started keeping a notebook—my own personal kill list. At the moment there were four tally marks in it, a reminder of the bad I’m capable of. Roman was the only thing that helped me sleep. What started off as a friendly bedmate to keep me safe and not alone at night, turned to a cuddle here and there, and then full-on getting naked. If Sebastian and Jonah could see me now, I think I’d give them both a damn embolism.

  I had been okay with our arrangement at first. We scratched each other’s itch, without the complication of labels and formalities. Roman didn’t want a relationship because it was rare to find someone who would live forever, so I understood why he didn’t want to get his hopes up. At the time, I didn’t care because I wasn’t feeling anything. I had lost my whole life and needed to do something reckless that would make me feel alive—and it worked—until now. Now I wanted more…

  I peeled Roman’s arm off me and I froze when he stirred. I didn’t want to wake him and try to go for another round—I didn’t have the stamina to keep up with him. When I felt it was safe for me to move again, I quickly slipped out of bed. Wrapped in a discarded bedsheet, I tip-toed out of his bedroom. The clock on the microwave said it was just past three in the afternoon. I had less than three hours until Roman woke up and I didn’t want to be here when he did.

  After a shower, I dressed and slid into my leather jacket—filling the pockets with some cash, my new driver’s license, and my TAP card which was LA’s version of a metro card. I still refused to drive Roman’s barely functional Jeep. That piece of junk was going to fall apart one day and I wouldn’t be surprised if I was in it when it did—but that was Rome’s baby. He wouldn’t give her up. Using public transportation also reminded me of being back home—although the train stations in LA were cleaner than in New York City. Alas, I took the 733 bus toward Santa Monica, and got off on Main and Grand. A seventeen mile trip to Venice Beach and it took me almost an hour and a half to get there—go figure—but that was traffic in the City of Angels.

  The boardwalk was packed with tourists and locals as usual—the smell of weed as potent as ever. Women rolled around in bikinis on roller blades, and steroid-induced, speedo-wearing muscle heads lifted weights as a drum circle played on the beach, and reggae music could be heard on the mile long boardwalk. It always took me a while to find Jorge in this chaos. He was never in the same location, but usually near the drum circle hippies.

  “Ay Ace!” I heard my name. I swerved through the crowd toward the pier and found Jorge, a four-by-seven foot imp. “Que pasa? What you doing round’ these parts, Chica? I thought it’d be a while before I’d see you again.” His shaggy hair and overgrown beard were dead giveaways that he was homeless, and if not, his dirty, colorless clothes drove the thought home. I always offered to help him out, but he refused any sort of assistance.

  Jorge was of Hispanic background, but he wouldn’t give up exactly from where. The thing was, the imp was my CI—Criminal Informant—a retired soul collector. A really nasty demon who feeds off the essence of humans. Jorge was one of my first busts when I started working with the LAPD.

  “You know why I’m here,” I said as I nodded my head toward Zelda’s Corner—an eatery off the boardwalk that was his personal favorite.

  I started walking toward the little sandwich shop, knowing the imp would be trailing behind me at a distance. I ordered two Professor Ted sandwiches, two bottles of water, and a box of mini donuts to go for Roman. He would kill me if he knew I stopped here and didn’t bring him some.

  I sat on the bench outside the shop with our late lunch as Jorge popped a squat beside me.

  “Twice in one week? Are you trying to get me killed, Ace?” he giggled. Not the reaction I was expecting.

  I handed him his lunch. “Sorry, I know this is risky, but I really need your help,” I said as I unwrapped my sandwich.

  “So you thought a Professor Ted would be a good bribe?” he gave me a lazy smile as he waved the sandwich in the air—a dead giveaway that my buddy was high as a freakin’ kite.

  My claws extended and I gripped his tattered shirt. “Are you smoking?” I exclaimed.

  He laughed and bread crumbs fell out of his beard, making me gag.

  “Of course, Chica. What are you going to do, lock me up?”

  “Don’t tempt me, Jorge. Your little ass won’t get too far, and my wolf always enjoys a good chase,” I said and flashed my silver eyes.

  He slouched in defeat. “Bueno,” he said and took a hearty bite. “What do you need?”

  “That tip to check out Ground Zero panned out. Thanks by the way,” I said and he nodded. “We found some files in the main office with this code. A list of numbers and letters that we haven’t been able to figure out. Lou is working on cracking it now.”

  “Y que?” Jorge shrugged. “What you need me for?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Do you seriously need me to spell everything out for you? Do you know anything else that can help us? We’re at a dead end here.”

  “What’s in it for me?” he gave me a side glance.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered. “You get to keep your damn freedom, Jorge. That’s what’s in it for you. We have a deal here, you got out on good behavior, and you’re my eyes and ears on the streets. If you’re backing out now, I can always send you back to Ironwood—back to your cage.”

  He snarled. “You won’t always be able to threaten me, you know. Un dia, your threats will be meaningless.”

  “Yeah, yeah, until then, my threats stand. So what will it be, Little Guy?”

  He rolled up the sandwich wrapper and threw it into the nearest garbage can. His nose flared in frustration, his tan skin darker and dirtier than the last time I saw him.

  “Los docks,” he mumbled. “Check los docks.”

  “The—?” I paused. “Oh shit, the docks!” I wrapped an arm around Jorge and pulled him into a hug. “Was that so hard?”

  He tried to shrug me off but I wouldn’t let him go. “Get off me, Wolf!” he grumbled.

  I squeezed him tighter and tried not to breathe him in. He smelled like he hadn’t showered in weeks. “You know you lurve me, Jorge. And that’s why you’re going to head to Skid Row,” I whispered as I slid some change into his utility jacket. “Go to the shelter and tell them I sent you. Get a shower, Little Man, you reek. And then lay low until this blows over, you understand?”

  I released my grip and he pushed off me. “And if I don’t?”

  I sighed. “Then that Ogre who’s been eyeing us this whole time on the boardwalk is going to eat your intestines.”

  Jorge froze. “I knew you’d get me killed.”

  I shook my head. “If you follow my instructions, you’ll stay alive. Now go while I hold him off.”

  Jorge paused for a moment and stared at me, his glazed eyes searching for something, and once he found it, the imp was gone in a flash.

  I turned in the direction of the speedo-wearing meat head and he had already dropped his weights, and was marching toward me. Except he was staring at Jorge’s retreating figure, trying to catch up. I stood from the bench and intercepted the Ogre with a palm to his chest.

  “Whoa, in a hurry?” I smiled, my canines sliding out. “Running in
speedos is not a good sight for anyone. I highly suggest a change in wardrobe.”

  The Ogre growled.

  “Easy there, Big Guy, you don’t want to get into a whose-is-bigger contest with me,” I winked. “I can guarantee you, mine is.”

  My fist connected with his abdomen, sending his body to hunch over and level with my height. My claws gripped his neck and I hauled him toward an empty alleyway, slamming his huge torso into the wall.

  “Now, let’s do this the easy way. Who sent you?”

  The Ogre spit in my face and shredded the last bit of patience I had. I roared into the quiet neighborhood, my claws and canines extended at full length. The hair on my arms thickened, and my face scrunched up like a prune as it morphed into a half-shift—half human, half wolf. My hand on his neck squeezed tighter, cutting off his air flow.

  “Now, you’ve pissed me the fuck off,” I growled inches away from his face.

  His hands attempted to rip me off his neck but it was no use. He wheezed trying to inhale but I wasn’t giving in.

  “Let’s try this again. Who the fuck sent you?” I loosened my grasp and he sucked in a hearty pull of air.

  “Ron,” he choked out. “Ron sent me.”

  “And who is this Ron fellow? Where can I find him?”

  The Ogre shook his head as much as he could. “I don’t know. No one knows.”

  I squeezed harder. “You’re not helping me,” I taunted.

  He tapped my hand. “The imp,” he choked. “The imp was right. Go to the docks—in Long Beach.”

  My eyes flashed silver. “Thanks for the confirmation,” I growled as I twisted my wrist and snapped the Ogres neck. His body slid against the brick wall, his eyes wide open as they fogged over. His large frame slammed onto the ground, unmoving. He was number five.

  Times had changed. I was no longer the clueless werewolf who was scared to get her hands dirty. I was tough, confident, and I kicked ass.

  I took two steadying breaths and then morphed back to my human self—tucking the wolf away for when I’d need her again. I pulled out my cellphone from my leather jacket and dialed the station.

  “Hey-yo!” Lou answered.

  I cleared my throat. “I need a clean-up.”

  Chapter Three

  I hauled ass to the SIU. It was already dark out so Roman would most likely be there—at least I hoped so. We needed to hatch a plan and catch ourselves a bad guy. And I knew exactly where to go. I took the 733 bus back downtown, got off on Main Street and 7th, and ran the quarter mile to the police station.

  The Supernatural Investigative Unit was located in a three story building in a more desolate area of Downtown Los Angeles. The first floor housed a small lobby with a receptionist at the desk. We never learned their names because the turn over for that position was unreal. The kinds of “people” we caught that passed through this building could give any human nightmares. To the right of reception was a small coffee stand and to the left were the elevators. On the second floor where I was headed, was the squad room.

  “Third Eye Lou, where you at?” I burst out of the elevator and into the office.

  “Back here!” the old man attempted to yell, his voice cracked from age and too much whisky. “Whatda’ya got for me?” He came out of our break room in the far right corner of the office. Newspaper in hand, he found one of the four desks that was assigned to him and plopped down. His desk was the only one with three computer screens and a laptop. He was our tech guru. There wasn’t anything Lou couldn’t figure out, which was why he had to accompany Roman and I out on the field last night to hack into Danny’s computer. Other than those rare occasions, Lou stayed at home base and out of danger.

  “The codes, Lou, I know what they are!” I grabbed the rolling chair from my desk and slid over to him. “They’re cargo containers from the docks. I think whoever is snatching up Sucubi, they’re shipping them somewhere. I don’t know where, I haven’t figured it all out yet.”

  “Hm,” Lou tapped his chin and pushed his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You might be on to something. The numbers and letters are scrambled but it could be a way to throw someone off in case it’s found. Let me play with them for a sec.”

  I nodded. “Is Roman here yet?”

  He grunted. “You two have been quite the pair as of lately. Anything you want to discuss?”

  I leaned back on my chair. “It’s none of your business, Lou.”

  “Everything’s my business, Ace,” he tipped his fedora back and pointed to his third eye on his forehead. It blinked a few times before it scanned the office. “And I only ask because I worry for ya. Rome is a good guy, but he isn’t the steadiest mate. Just be careful, I know how you wolves are.”

  “I’m not like most wolves, and we have an arrangement. It’s all good Lou,” I said as I fiddled with the pens Lou kept scattered on his desk.

  “Talking about you not being like most wolves…where is it you said you’re from again?” he asked, his gaze crawling over to me from the computer screens.

  I sighed. “How many times do we have to have this discussion? I come from a sma—”

  “A small Pack in Wyoming…I know,” he said going back to the numbers on the screens. “You still sticking with that story, Ace?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now put that eye away, it gives me the heebie-jeebies,” I shivered as he adjusted his fedora.

  He laughed. “What happened to the big bad wolf?”

  I shrugged. “Whatever, just get me those cargo shipments and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “Sure thing, Ace.”

  I wheeled myself back to my desk and walked toward the elevators for the third floor—our in house gymnasium. It had everything from treadmills to our very own boxing ring. As I pushed the up button, the elevator doors pinged open and Roman was standing there. He wore a dark green shirt that brought out the green flecks in his hazel eyes. His dirty blonde hair was messy as usual, and that smirk on his face was enough evidence that he knew how good looking he was.

  “Well isn’t it my lucky day, just the beauty I wanted to see,” he said as he pulled on the front of my t-shirt and dragged me into the lift. He pushed the red emergency brakes and stopped the elevator from moving.

  “About last night…are we good?” he asked, his eyes squinted.

  “Why wouldn’t we be?” I quirked a brow as I avoided the topic. I felt silly having brought it up, and wanted to forget I mentioned anything. Did I want more than a friends-with-benefits relationship? Yes, but did I want it with Roman? I wasn’t sure.

  “Ace,” he whispered and pulled me closer to him. “Don’t do that. Talk to me, I care about you and the last thing I want to do is mess with your feelings.”

  I shook my head and looked down at his chest. “I don’t know, Rome.” My mind recalled what Lou had just said—Roman is a good guy, but he isn’t the steadiest of mates. I didn’t need anyone to remind me. I’d been a witness many times of Roman’s flirtatious nature. “Are you sleeping around?” Verbal diarrhea got the best of me. I wanted to palm my forehead in embarrassment.

  He stilled.

  “You think I’d do that?” he asked. His hazel eyes bore into me. “Because I wouldn’t, Ace.”

  “This is stupid,” I chuckled awkwardly and attempted to step away. “I’m being stupid, let’s just forget I brought it up.”

  Roman slid his hand in mine. “You’re not being stupid—you’re a wolf. I understand your kind believes in monogamy, and I don’t need anyone but you, Ace,” he grinned and kissed the corner of my mouth.

  “Not now, Rome,” I shook my head and tried to cover up my excitement. He wasn’t sleeping around—I was relieved. I didn’t want to end things, but if he was, I knew that was what I’d have to do. “I saw Jorge today and he told me where to find our baddie.” I changed the subject.

  That caught his attention. “Oh?”

  “The numbers are cargo containers! Whatever they’re shipping, we hav
e to get to it before it leaves,” I said. “I got a name—Ron—do you recognize it?”

  Roman shook his head and pulled the emergency knob, opening the elevator doors on the second floor. We exited and walked in the squad room. “Can’t say that I do, but who knows, might be an alias.”

  “Ace!” Lou yelled. “You were right. They’re containers located at The Port of Long Beach and they leave tonight for South Florida.”

  I snapped my fingers. “I knew it! Let’s go!”

  “Hold on there, Ace, we can’t go by ourselves. After last night, we need back-up,” Roman suggested. “Do you know who the shipyard belongs to, Lou?”

  Third-Eye Lou began typing on his computer. “Hold on a sec…there! They belong to a Ron Goldstein.”

  Roman and I said at the same time, “Definitely an alias.”

  “Where is the shipment located?” I asked as Roman walked to his desk and made a call.

  “Pier G, off the Southeast Basin,” Lou answered.

  I nodded as I went to my desk and opened the bottom drawer that held my duty belt and gun—clipping everything on. I headed to the office closet and pulled out two bullet proof vests for Roman and I. Placing his on his desk just as he cooed on the phone.

  “Aw come on, babe, it was just one time. No big deal,” he said. “I also have a box of jewelry with your name on it. Do us this solid and it’s yours,” Roman paused and crossed his fingers. “Great! Thank you, doll face.”

  “Who was that?” I asked as he hung up the phone.

  “I just spoke with Alana, the Water Nymphs are on their way.”

  ***

  The weather was chillier than inland; the Pacific Ocean gave the wind an extra kick. We drove through the tunnels of the Port until we reached Pier G. I tapped my ear bud to make sure it was in place to stay connected with Third Eye Lou back at home base, and the Water Nymphs were already in position waiting for our command. Once we met a dead end, we parked the Jeep and walked through the shipyard, eyeing the cargo containers for the numbers on our list.