“Ozzy was talking crap. If I’d interrupted him and acted like I had somewhere better to be, he would have been suspicious.” Walter looked out the window, seeming to note that Eleri hadn’t driven her back by the square where someone might see. “So what’s this about?”
“I need to hire you.” Eleri heard her own voice and found it too blunt. So she started over. “The FBI would like to hire you— “
“Oh, I’m no agent.” Walter shook her head.
The laugh that came out of Eleri’s mouth surprised even her. She really liked this woman. “You’d have to pass classes at Quantico first. Not that you couldn’t. No, we’re looking to hire you as a consultant. You got the tracer app onto Cooper Rollins’ phone—great job on the email, by the way.”
Walter only nodded.
“We’d like you to do some more, but at this point, we have to actually hire you. I can’t report that I used a civilian for favors.”
“I’m hardly a civilian.”
Eleri grinned again. “Though I whole-heartedly agree with you, the Bureau does not. You are not employed by the Feebs, nor agency-trained, thus you are a civilian and I cannot keep asking you to do possibly dangerous tasks for us.”
“Tagging a phone isn’t dangerous.”
“Tagging Cooper Rollins is.” Eleri countered. “Clearly, you’re better at following him than we are. We have a situation that may be terrorist linked—” normally, she never would have said that, but Walter had figured that part out long ago, so it wasn’t news. “And you have a decent idea about Cooper. We need to know if he’s with them? Infiltrating them? We have three dead already. Once some group claims it, it’ll become a media circus. Honestly, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already.”
“Oh, no worries. We’re currently electing a new mayor, and thus the PD is all screwed up. A corrupt election is a good lead story, so no one is really digging for more. You lucked out, there.” Walter looked at her hand, not as a nervous gesture, but almost to focus her thoughts.
“Oh. That’s good to know.” But she steered the conversation back. “I can take you to the office and fill out the paperwork now. You’ll be on a need-to-know basis, so you won’t be in on the whole case, but we’ll have assignments. And you’ll be paid.”
Walter smiled. “I don’t need to be paid.”
That gave Eleri’s heart a little shove. Walter was good. As a wounded vet, she could have wound up in a bad way. But she was still capable, and at this point the handicap was hardly even that. Walter was just a little different than before.
“You have to be paid. It’s a legal thing.” Eleri liked that. “Maybe you can put it toward opening your own PI business.”
Something in the tilt of Walter’s head made Eleri think the woman was surprised she’d remembered.
They pulled into the Bureau with Walter agreeing to the deal, then seeming pleased with the pay rate, then trying to hide that smile. Inside of the hour, they had paperwork filled out and Lucy Fisher was the newest part-time, need-only consultant in the L.A. branch. Donovan shook her hand and welcomed her to the position. Then they immediately set her to task tailing Cooper as much as she could without getting caught, or having the others around her become suspicious of her missing time.
She refused a ride back downtown and headed out the front of the building with nothing more than she’d come in with, except a job.
Eleri watched her go, then joined Donovan and Marina digging through local death records. Four hours later, she got a text from Walter. Eleri looked up at the other two.
“Cooper isn’t carrying his phone everywhere. He knows.”
Donovan growled low in his throat as he padded down the street after Eleri. It wasn’t a real growl, not indicative of anything other than that he didn’t want to be walking down the sidewalk at Eleri’s side like a good puppy. Once in a while, random people tried to reach out and pet him, but not often—he was relatively menacing looking.
The pavement was rough under his paws, his fingertips sensitive like a human’s, thus his front feet in this form were more sensitive than the hard pads of a wolf’s. Maybe that’s why he was so keen on running in the woods. There was something about the variegated feel of dirt and branches, crunching leaves and soft loam. Here, it was just rough concrete square after square.
She paused and looked down at him, questioning.
Donovan understood, where had Cooper Rollins gone? He stepped forward, letting Eleri pace him, but taking the lead at the same time.
The view of her from down here was interesting. Her posture was straight, he’d noticed that before when he was upright, but from this angle it looked more like something she worked for than something that came naturally. Her shoulders appeared broader from this angle, her cheeks and lips rounder. For the first time, Donovan noticed that she wasn’t completely Anglo.
It startled him. He knew she was Kentucky blueblood. Hell, she had more than one family home and they all had names, like “Patton Hall” and “FoxHaven.” So he’d just assumed she was about as white as Wonderbread. But from here, he could see she wasn’t, and it startled him a little. The color in her skin wasn’t a tan, but a tone. His eyes blinked. The straight, reddish-gold hair and the pale freckles made people assume what wasn’t really there. Eleri was part African American. He blinked again. A good part, if what he was seeing was true.
She tapped him on the shoulder, breaking his startled forensic musings.
He had work to do; he’d have to ask her later. He inhaled, taking in the scent of metal from the jewelry shop they’d passed. There was a food truck around the corner, selling questionable pizza and hoagies. The man walking about three people in front of them hadn’t bathed in over five days, not shocking though, given his attire. And Cooper Rollins, who exuded alpha hormones he probably didn’t know he had, had been here just a few minutes ago. It didn’t hurt that he was eating a sandwich he’d bought from a different food truck a few blocks back. The scent of shawarma made him easier to track.
Donovan turned his head, so Eleri could look like she was walking her dog and not the other way around. She took the hint and the corner and quietly said, “Got him.”
Though Donovan wasn’t tall enough now to see very far, Eleri had the man in her sights. Good. They padded along, hanging back, wondering what the hell he was up to.
Thanks to the newly hired Walter Reed, they had a lot of intel on Cooper. Within twenty-four hours, she’d located his apartment—a tenement not far from downtown and shabby enough for him to keep odd hours and odder friends. Walter also followed him once while his phone stayed home. Then tipped them off this morning that Cooper was on the move, though once again his tracker was not. He was only carrying it sometimes, so he looked like he hadn’t discovered the tap, but clearly he had.
Eleri and Donovan had come quickly, and Eleri had tagged out with Walter. Then Donovan easily tailed her and joined up several blocks later. There was always the chance that Walter would follow them and find Eleri and the new “dog” clearly working in tandem, but it was a chance they had to take. Eleri couldn’t track Cooper like Donovan could. And Donovan couldn’t wander downtown midday like this without a clear human escort. It was bad enough to feel like a pet dog. It would be worse to know what the inside of animal control was like.
Cooper was on foot, walking the route. It was lucky for them, and according to Marina Vasquez, unusual in LA. But given that Cooper appeared to be tracking Aziza today, and this group seemed to be localized here, foot traffic was easier. Donovan recognized the irony of tracking someone who was tracking someone else.
While Aziza wandered in and out of various shops, Cooper waited her out. Then Cooper would duck in or follow her. Eleri made notes, texting Marina the names and locations of the buildings and periodically getting messages back from the other agent. She would softly tell Donovan what she heard back, after the first time where she started to hold the phone down to him. He could read it, but that would draw some disturbing attentio
n if anyone noticed. Luckily Eleri caught herself before he had to try to point it out. She’d put her hand over her mouth as though coughing and said, “Sorry.” Then she’d laughed outright.
Cooper turned another corner, and Donovan caught Aziza’s scent closer. He wondered if she had any clue Cooper was following her. Or that they were here.
If the young woman was smart, some of her stops were random. If anyone in her unit was smart, they’d taught her to do that. If she was meeting contacts at each of her stop points, then they were all in some deep shit. Even if she wasn’t, he could actually smell Eleri’s growing concern as Cooper ducked up a set of hidden stairs to another tenement.
Donovan sniffed the doorway and gave two short grunts. One for Cooper having been there, the second for Aziza. Both were up the stairs, and Eleri and Donovan couldn’t follow. This wasn’t a business, it was housing. That meant some kind of private meeting, likely more than just a passing of information.
Cooper probably wasn’t meeting Aziza, since it seemed he was furtively trailing her. Walter had assured them that though he had figured out his phone was tapped; he probably hadn’t traced it to Walter or to the FBI. Even though he was Special Forces, Rollins would have to have put a lot of little pieces together for that one. Thus, he probably suspected Aziza and her group. It was reasonable to think he would carry it to meet with them, if the meeting were legit. That way they wouldn’t know that he knew his phone was traced.
At the least, it was a mess, leaving Donovan with nothing more than some good logical speculation.
The two of them wandered the block, waiting. Eleri bought a corner sandwich—one that Donovan had to approve. The carts were hit or miss. She fed him half of it in bites and scraps. So they waited nearly an hour before Cooper came back out first. No sign of Aziza.
They were taking up the tail, far enough back, when Donovan smelled it.
No!
He growled, low and even, getting Eleri’s attention.
“What?” she looked down at him, her brows pulled together, the gravity of the situation not clear to her yet.
His nose was going off in a way he’d never felt before, and he didn’t know what it meant exactly, but it was bad.
She started to follow Rollins, still looking down at Donovan.
He didn’t want to bark. He growled at her again, and was reaching for her pants leg when he caught the faint scent again.
Fuckfuckfuck.
It was everywhere. Down each of the side streets. It wasn’t just that they were close, they were closing in. They knew he was here, and they were coming. It wasn’t a welcoming committee either.
At least Eleri had stopped, her head leaning down, her look now very concerned. “Donovan?”
She shouldn’t have used his name. God forbid someone wonder why her dog and her partner shared a name, but that was not his primary concern right now.
“We’re going to lose Cooper.” She whispered the last part, shaking her head.
Finally, he remembered. The kill switch. They had a kill switch.
Donovan pressed his paw down on top of her foot. Hard.
Kill. Abort. Now.
He did it again.
Suddenly, Eleri got it. She turned, then turned again, “Where? Which way?”
He turned a short circle.
“Anywhere?”
Nowhere.
He moved his head slowly side to side. It didn’t do any good to look like he was saying ‘no’ and the smell was overwhelming now. The shit was about to hit the fan. Only he didn’t know how. He tapped her foot again, once, twice, until she looked up and started scanning the area for threats. She didn’t see it, but she did reach back and almost casually unsnapped the holster on her weapon.
Donovan turned and saw the man coming down the street. He was headed right for them. Donovan gave a small growl for Eleri. She looked. “Him?”
Donovan was already looking another direction, another man, thinner, scruffier, same direct gaze. Another growl, another turn. People on the street were starting to give the two of them a berth. Probably a good idea.
From the third direction, a woman. Her gaze was more serene and more deadly. Donovan could smell her; she was the alpha. By the time she arrived, three other men were flanking the two of them and Eleri was on high alert.
Bless her, she looked cool as a little southern cucumber, but Donovan could smell it on her.
So could they. She wasn’t fooling any of them. And Eleri was the only one who didn’t know it.
17
Eleri paused for a moment, her whole system alert. She very calmly looked each of them in the eye, except for the man who was now squatting down next to Donovan. In the periphery, she could see the man smiling at her partner, and her partner baring his teeth, but making no sound in response.
Donovan no longer pushed on her foot—their agreed upon signal for danger. It was too late.
This was one of those situations most people would be uncomfortable in, but might have a hard time pinpointing exactly why. Eleri had no such problems. She and her partner were surrounded. The four had come in from different directions, targeted the two of them, and neatly boxed them in. All three managed to be just inside the boundary of her personal space at the same time.
She had a gun, training, and a partner who would bite the shit out of them. Eleri waited.
Sure enough, one of them spoke.
“That’s a nice dog you got.” It was the woman. One woman, three men.
Eleri nodded, but didn’t speak. Something was very off here. These guys looked more like street thugs than terrorists.
Her initial thought had been that she and Donovan had been made. Aziza had spotted them, or the group was smart and tailed their own people to be certain no one else was. So she’d initially figured this for backlash.
But if that were the case, why not mug her like someone had done to Vivian Dawson? Just shoot her on the spot. No one should pay that much attention to Donovan.
The man squatting on the ground was still staring at Donovan as though studying him.
Eleri breathed in deeply.
Dog. She smelled dog. Clearly, she didn’t have anywhere near the sense that Donovan did. Just as she thought again, no one should pay that much attention to Donovan, the woman curled her lip, revealing a long canine.
Holy shit.
This was a pack.
With a slow movement of her head, the lead female let her short, gorgeous gray hair ruffle in the wind. Her nose flared as she inhaled the scents in front of her. She knew Eleri was human, and she was simply letting Eleri know that she was ‘lesser.’ Her voice was butter and gravel. “You walk him like a dog?”
“Sometimes.” Eleri shrugged, playing it bold. Not sure what else to do, other than stay very alert.
The man still at Donovan’s eye level glared at him. “You let her?”
Donovan growled. Eleri wondered if they could understand that as a yes or no answer.
Without moving her eyes, Eleri checked the group. The woman was clearly the alpha. Interesting. She seemed the most aggressive of the pack, too. She leaned forward, showed her teeth. She was the one Eleri had to watch.
Eleri switched tactics. “What’s your name?”
Her pale blue eyes bore into Eleri. “We don’t let your kind rule us.”
A threat? More than they’d already done by holding her here?
“We’re just out today. He’s his own person.” Person might have been the wrong word. Eleri had harbored hopes that they just wanted to know that Donovan was okay and not some dog-slave. That was silly. They didn’t ask, they demanded, they threatened first. She tried again, “No leash or anything.”
The bitch licked her teeth. “So give him to us.”
Oh, no way in hell. Eleri just smiled and shook her head.
Before she saw what was happening, the two men beside their woman closed ranks as the woman’s face pushed forward. Her teeth extended even further from her jaw and her should
ers rolled back, her neck growing thicker.
This was the transformation that Donovan hadn’t wanted her to see. This was what she’d observed in his father, the speed and aggression of the change, fueled by rage, the night she’d dreamed of Donovan’s past. This woman was getting ready to bite Eleri in the face.
The quick action was punctuated by an attack growl from Donovan that was sharply truncated. The man on the ground had wrapped human arms around him and was effectively holding him back.
The two on the sides were blocking people on the street from seeing what the woman was doing. They’d created a system for Eleri to be effectively attacked by a wolf while no one saw anything.
For a moment, her brain flashed forward. If she died of a bite, Donovan would go down for it. His only hope would be to run, and these people were holding him there. This was no longer a fight. It was a murder.
And it wouldn’t be Eleri’s.
The gray-haired woman’s teeth came out further. At her sides, her long fingernails blackened into claws, ready in case the teeth weren’t enough.
Holding still until the last moment, Eleri flung her left arm up, smashing her elbow into the side of the woman’s changing face.
Though “Gray’s” cheekbone took the hit painfully, so did Eleri’s arm. Bitch had a thick face. The men closed ranks, grabbing at her, but Eleri was ready.
She dropped to the ground, out of the air they grasped at, and as their hands quickly followed her down, she took advantage. Grabbing each of them by one arm, she yanked as hard as she could and scrambled the fuck out of the way as the two came crashing down into each other, their momentum their own enemy now.
Facing the now exposed half-wolf, Eleri popped up, rushing her, the only option to take the offensive. Stepping hard on the back of one of the downed men, she launched herself at Gray, one hand out, the other behind her, under her jacket.
The momentum gave her power. Gray outweighed her, but she was starting to stumble backward even as Eleri came forward. Maybe she was afraid because she’d been exposed, but Eleri was pissed as hell and not to be messed with. The fingers on her outstretched hand reached Gray’s neck, but she didn’t squeeze. Dog necks were thick; dogs were hard to strangle. Eleri had been reading up.
The NightShade Forensic Files: Fracture Five (Book 2) Page 14
