Rogue Warrior: (Dark Warrior Alliance Book Seven)

by Brenda Trim

  Tapping her fingernail on the steering wheel of her Ferrari, Tori glanced back to Horus’s small house. There was a light on in the living room, but the rest of the house was dark. She had seen him cross by the front window a bit ago, but nothing more.

  There was nothing in Horus’s bank records to indicate he had embezzled millions. Not that she expected to see it all sitting in his account, but she would have expected to see at least a handful of deposits larger than his paycheck. There was only one that fit the bill from an offshore account, and it was made just last week after Sam had contracted the Guild. Picking up her phone, she tapped out a message to O’Haire, asking for Scott to hack into that account.

  It was the phone records that bothered Tori most. A male who had stolen millions from his boss would not call the police repeatedly over the past few months. The calls had started shortly after he’d quit his job. Why take the risk when Sam could have gone to them and filed a complaint? Not that he had actually talked to anyone. He’d called and hung up at least thirty times. It didn’t fucking make sense.

  And then there was the home. Horus allegedly stole millions, yet he lived in a simple three-bedroom home. It was small by supernatural standards. According to the database, he lived with his grandmother and two siblings. It was obvious Horus and his family cared for their property, but nothing was ostentatious.

  She needed to find out what bedroom Horus was in so she could search it when the house was empty. He and his brother finally left through the front door and sped away in his small car. Climbing out of her car, Tori eased the door closed as quietly as possible and crossed the street, keeping to the shadows.

  Utilizing every dark patch to her advantage, she managed to get to the backyard. The first time she had tried this, she’d come from the neighbor’s property, but there was no fence separating the properties, and one of his brothers had come out the back door, forcing her to retreat to her car.

  Tori shifted so she could look through the gap in the corner of the curtains. The grandmother was watching TV alone in the living room. Walking quietly around the side of the home, she scanned each of the rooms and found they were all empty except the room where the grandmother was.

  Tori wanted to scream in frustration, knowing the matriarch was home. Being skilled at stealth made searching the house a simple task. The screens over the windows added an element of risk and caused Tori to proceed slowly. The first window she tested was locked, but she thought it was Horus’s room, if the poster of the Egyptian god was to be believed.

  Tori tested each of the windows and was about to return to her car for her BE kit when one into the bathroom opened. Her large breasts were smashed as she pushed through the small opening, and at one point she wasn’t sure she’d get inside unless she went through the front door.

  After her upper body cleared the frame, Tori practically fell headfirst onto the floor. If it weren’t for her wings, she’d have made a spectacular entrance. Her chest and head rose, and she pulled her legs through the window and dropped lightly to the ground with the aid of her wings.

  Knowing Horus’s grandmother was in the front room had Tori’s heart racing with apprehension. She had never harmed a female and had nothing but respect for elders. She doubted she could hit the female over the head to continue with her mission, even if she didn’t look like a little old lady.

  Easing into the hall, Tori tiptoed to the bedroom she thought was Horus’s. A loud creak echoed when she twisted the metal knob. She froze in place and panicked for a split second. The noise couldn’t get any worse, so Tori twisted with such force she was certain the knob would break in her hand. Sweat was beading on her forehead and pouring down her spine.

  Her thoughts traveled to Santiago, who wanted her to retire to avoid hazardous situations like this. Not that this was particularly treacherous, but she had no idea how the grandmother would react to an intruder in her home. The female may be smiling with her grandkids in the picture on the wall and look like a sweet female, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t put a silver bullet between Tori’s eyes.

  Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she ducked into the bedroom and glanced around. The large room had two neatly made twin beds with black and gray comforters. The bedside table was made of light colored wood, and there were two dressers along the opposite wall.

  She’d come to expect the sparse furnishings and had to laugh at the posters of bikini-clad females covering the walls. Human women, if Tori weren’t mistaken. It was difficult to tell without the use of her other senses.

  Tori searched the dressers quickly and quietly, but came up with nothing. Under the bed and between the mattresses revealed no clues. There was nothing. Not even notes about the offshore account. She’d never encountered a case where there was so little evidence. No one covered their tracks this well. Mistakes were always made. Something that would lead her to the truth.

  Entering the walk-in closet, she was careful to close the door before turning on the light. Neat rows of pants and shirts hung from the rack. Along one wall were shelves filled with folded clothes, and shoes sat in pairs on the floor. A growl escaped her when she found nothing.

  A slightly off-kilter vent caught her eye when she turned to leave. One of the screws wasn’t screwed in completely. Stretching as far as she could, Tori peered through the slats, trying to see if anything was up there. It was too dark to see anything, so she went back into the bedroom and searched for a tool.

  These males didn’t have anything useful like bobby pins. Cursing, she finally found a pair of fingernail clippers. After she returned to the closet, she unfolded the clippers and used the small slim piece of metal to unscrew the covering. Was that supposed to be a nail file? Tori wondered before refocusing on what she was doing. With the grate out of the way, she saw a shoebox pushed inside the vent.

  Grabbing it down, she decided to stay in the closet to search through the contents. For someone to go to such lengths to hide it, there had to be something important in it. The lid had a thin layer of dust on it and cobwebs clung to the sides. This had been there a while

  Lifting the lid, she dropped the box unable to stifle her squeak of alarm. She went stock still for a minute hoping grandma didn’t hear her. When the female didn’t come running, she leaned down and used the pick in her hand to shift the contents. There were tiny biopsy bottles filled with fluid and bloody fingernails.

  There were all shapes and sizes of fingernails, and it was very obvious to Tori that they had been pried from the nail beds, with all the blood and bits of skin. She tipped a jar over and her stomach lurched. These belonged to females. She wondered if the female who liked glitter was still alive.

  A small notebook was in the bottom. She picked it up and scanned several pages of the messy scrawl. The list of names and dates told her a horrid history of torture and murder. There was no way a male could torture this many females over decades and not get caught or manage to keep them alive.

  It was difficult to see past her initial reaction of wanting to remove Horus’s head. That Valkyrie rage had flared to life and lightning boomed outside. No one who had committed these acts should be left to prey on the innocent ever again. Except this wasn’t Horus’s trophy box. Of that she was certain. She’d seen a note he had scrawled to his brother on the top of the dresser about picking up Grandma’s ointment from the clinic. That writing had been as neat as the rest of the room and property, not this messy scribble.

  Using the clippers to push the vials back into the box, she replaced the lid and screwed the vent back into place. She had her suspicions about what that box represented, but couldn’t be sure. It reminded her of a TV show she’d seen about a serial killer. In the show, the killer had kept mementos from his victims.

  She was so preoccupied with her ruminations that she took a wrong turn and found herself in the kitchen, close to the family room.

  Horus’s grandmother was still engrossed in her show and hadn’t noticed her. Tori needed to rush from the h
ouse but was stunned into immobility as more pieces of the puzzle fell into place. The female had scars riddling the side of her face and neck, and she had no fingernails. Bile rose in her throat as she finally managed to get her feet moving.

  Her retreat wasn’t as quiet, but she managed to make it back to her car before her dinner came back up. One hand braced on her car, she heaved until her stomach was empty. That female was a victim of whoever was responsible for those vials. Was it Horus’s brother? Or someone else?

  She suspected it could be Sam and jumped into her car. As she raced across town, she imagined Horus relentlessly hunting for the male responsible for harming his grandmother. And once he found him, he got as close as possible so he could have his revenge. Was that Horus’s reason for working for Sam? After all, the job didn’t fit with his plumber certification.

  Tori pulled to the curb fifty feet from Sam’s house and parked her car. Suddenly this case had taken on a whole new level of risk, and Tori didn’t feel quite so safe. Sam knew her car and could possibly see her. If he was the male responsible for torturing and murdering all those females, what would he do to her if he caught her? Based on the scars covering Horus’s grandmother, it wouldn’t be good.

  It made her wonder how the grandmother had survived and how old she had been when she’d been injured. Supernaturals scarred under specific circumstances after they reached adulthood, and the thought of some sick male taking stripling females and doing unspeakable things to them made her sick to her stomach while rage consumed her. She wanted to find the one responsible and tear them to shreds with her claws.

  Thinking that they could have been adults when they’d been hurt did nothing to ameliorate the fury. She doubted she’d be able to turn the case over to the police. She wanted blood for the victims.

  Leaving her car in the shadows, Tori made her way to the side of Sam’s house. His car sat in the driveway. The downstairs was lit up, as well as one of the rooms upstairs. The home was much bigger than Horus’s and exactly what she would expect from a male owning a successful import-export company.

  It wasn’t until she peeked in the third window that she found anyone. Sam sat in a home office in the front of the house. Cocking her head to the side, she shut out the noise of the neighborhood and heard several voices. It startled her because the male had no family. Assuming it was household staff, she wondered if they lived there. With staff throughout the residence, it was going to be impossible to break into the house right now and decided to leave. She needed to dig into Sam’s life.

  If he was responsible like she suspected, she doubted he would keep evidence in a location the staff might find it. Basements weren’t common in Seattle, but she’d bet he had one that no one else knew about. She wondered if she was wasting time considering a search of this residence. According to the show, serial killers kept their mementos close so they could relive their exploits. Every fiber of her being told her Sam was guilty and that was what had made her uneasy.

  Returning to her car, she was heading to realm police headquarters when she passed Confetti Too and saw her mate’s car in the parking lot. What the hell was he doing at the club? Jealousy over the thought of him in there seeking female companionship had her turning into the lot and parking next to his Hummer.

  She slammed her car door and didn’t bother locking the vehicle as she stormed across the asphalt, getting angrier with each step. The bastard would be in pieces before she was done with him.

  Walking up to Ronan, a big bear shifter who was the bouncer at the door, Tori tried to calm her frayed nerves.

  “Hey, Ronan. How’s it going tonight?” she asked when she paused by his side.

  “Tori,” Ronan boomed, pulling her in for a hug. Shifters were touchy-feely, and she was coming to appreciate that fact more and more. Santiago was constantly touching her when they were together. Tension left his body at the mere brush of their hands. “How’s it going? I haven’t seen you for a while.”

  “It’s been hard since Miguel died, and my life has taken an unexpected turn since then. It’s actually that turn I’m hoping to find,” she hedged.

  Ronan had gone still, and the easygoing male disappeared. Scanning the crowd, Ronan addressed her. “I heard about your brother. I’m sorry about what happened. Angel’s Kiss is taking too many good ones. What brings you here tonight?”

  “My Fated Mate. I saw his car in the parking lot,” she growled.

  “Well, damn. You weren’t kidding about your life changing. Doesn’t get bigger than finding your Fated Mate. It’s great, isn’t it?” he asked, his eyes taking on a faraway look. No doubt the male was thinking of his spunky mate, Pema. She wondered what it was like for Ronan to be mated to one of the Rowan sisters. They were the most powerful witches in the realm.

  “I’m not sure if I would say wonderful just yet. My mate and I have issues to work out, which is why I’m here.”

  “Who’s the lucky guy? Anyone I know?”

  “Given that Pema works with Zander and the Dark Warriors, I am pretty sure you know him fairly well,” she suggested.

  “Oh, yeah? There aren’t many unmated warriors left here in Seattle. Did you snare Orlando or one of the twins?” he probed.

  “Neither. The Goddess saw fit to mate me to Santiago,” she shared.

  His eyes went saucer wide. “I understand why you’re testy now. Have faith that he is your perfect match. You two have more to overcome than most, but you are meant for each other. Don’t lose sight of that.”

  “I can see that you know about our history. I may not have wanted to believe it, and I sure as hell don’t agree with what he did to Miguel, but I see more now than I ever did. Miguel made mistakes and so did Santi. Anyway, do you know where Santi is?”

  Ronan lifted one beefy arm and pointed to the back of the club near the private rooms. “About five minutes ago I saw him by the back hallway, but he was with a male, not a female,” he was quick to rush out.

  “If he knows what’s good for him he’s not,” she muttered, focusing in the direction he had pointed.

  “Trust me, Tori. A mated male doesn’t see another female after they’ve found their Fated Mate. It’s not physically possible. I know you’re newly mated, but you will get through the issues and everything will be as the Goddess meant—and cheating was not what she had in mind,” Ronan assured her.

  “You’re a good male. I have no worries that we will work through this one way or another. It was good to see you,” she told him, with a pat on the arm before she walked toward the back where the private rooms were.

  Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her jealousy under control as she pushed her way through the crowd and skirted the dance floor. His scent teased her nostrils when she reached the head of the hall. Several couples were heading to rooms, keys in hand, but none of them were Santiago. Following the trail left by his scent was challenging with sex, alcohol, and so many others overpowering it.

  When she ended up at a back door, she stood there staring at it for several seconds debating which direction to go. Santiago was not in any of the rooms she had passed. It was possible he was back in the main room of the club, but his scent led her there. Shrugging, she cracked the door open and saw a couple ten feet into the alley.

  She applied all of her skills as an assassin and inched her way into the shadows and flattened against the brick wall. It wasn’t until she’d crouched down that she noticed Santiago was huddled behind a trashcan, watching a male with a female five feet from his position. His dark brown skin and black clothing provided the perfect camouflage and made her heart go pitter-patter in her chest. The mere sight of him had her hormones going haywire and her soul reaching for his.

  “C’mon. You’ll feel better. Just give it a try,” the male wheedled. He was dressed in a shiny red silk shirt that was open to the middle of his chest, and Tori almost laughed at how hard he was trying to look sexy. He was fit and his tight black pants looked good, but the slicked-back hair and smarmy smile made
her think of a pimp she’d seen in a movie.

  The female wrapped her arms around her chest and hunched over. She was skinny and dressed in an oversized blue blouse that was at least a size too big on her. A furrow appeared between her pinched gray eyes, kicking Tori’s protective instincts in and making her want to protect the female. “No. I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  “It’s the best idea you’ve had all month. Take this hit and we can go have a good time, baby,” the male tried again, taking a step closer to the female.

  The female chewed on her lip and looked down at the object in the male’s hand. “No. I don’t want to,” she said after a few seconds of silence.

  “Sure you do. This first hit is on me. It’ll help relax you and make you feel better,” the male promised.

  Santiago suddenly stood and was at the male’s side in the blink of an eye. “The female said no. I suggest you leave her alone,” Santiago warned, his voice holding the hint of a promise. Nothing good was going to happen if the male didn’t listen.

  “Or what? What are you going to do?” the drug dealer sneered.

  “I’m going to make sure you can’t sell to anyone ever again.” Tori’s heart sank at Santi’s declaration. Or maybe it was the way the pain in her mate mark flared at that very moment. Either way, it was obvious Santi hadn’t learned anything and was going to kill this male. Sadness nearly drowned Tori as she realized Santi still believed he was above the law.

  “Go back inside,” Santi told the female. “Your friends are waiting for you.”

  The drug dealer got pissed when he saw the female retreat, and rushed Santiago. Santi managed to punch the dealer in the face and duck a retaliatory swing. In the next second, the dealer was shoved up against the wall with Santi’s arm across his throat.

  “You have no idea who you are messing with. Let me go and you may live,” the dealer threatened.

  Santiago chuckled and his smile was chilling. “You have no idea who you are messing with. I’m the one hunting your fellow pushers.”