Dead men didn’t have mates.
Pain slashed his middle.
“Why were you out riding in the rain, anyway?” he asked through his bear’s objections.
“Patrol.”
Lorne didn’t fake his scowl. Being looked into during a run-in with the law was one thing. Having them peeping over the fence was something entirely different. The whole agency was founded on putting a boot to the throats of those with magic in their veins. New protocols and mission statements didn’t erase the damage already done.
“Keeping others out, or us in?” Alex asked with derision stinging his tongue.
Sloan swung her attention to the other man, and Lorne wanted to kill him again.
“Trying to keep everyone safe,” she corrected smoothly. “You have two major roads going into town—”
“It’s a free country, isn’t it? Movement isn’t restricted.”
Yet. Give them time and opportunity, and Lorne was sure someone would try to contain the supernatural threat.
“No, it’s not.” Irritation entered her scent. “But someone camping out where they don’t belong is at risk. I don’t want a trigger-happy camper shooting at a bear in the distance, nor do I want anyone on this side of things to get pissed at a trespasser.”
“And we need babysitters with badges to make sure that doesn’t happen?” Alex growled.
Oh, she didn’t like being called that. Her eyes narrowed and her teeth ground together, and Lorne jumped in before the beastly bear did anything else to upset his mate.
“Alex,” Lorne warned.
Sloan flicked a dark look at him as if to say she didn’t want or appreciate his help. More irritation flooded her scent when she focused back on Alex.
“We’re not the bad guys. I seem to recall we helped your... clan out of a bind just a few days ago.”
She stumbled just briefly on the word, like she knew it but wasn’t entirely comfortable using it. More SEA training, he supposed.
“Let’s not pretend that was out of concern for us. You people were on a mission. We just got caught up in it,” Lorne interjected.
“So what if you were? We still put those people in cuffs and hauled them away. Less bad guys on the street is a positive.”
And how many had she personally taken off the street? His eyes flicked down to the butt of her gun poking out of the holster on her belt.
She followed his gaze and shrugged. “Go ahead and ask. Everyone wants to, though most are polite enough to keep it to themselves.”
Lorne chuckled. Feisty woman, going toe-to-toe like she couldn’t help herself. “Did they teach you to be passive aggressive at the Academy for Ruining Supernatural Lives, or does that just come naturally?”
She grinned with too many teeth. “I prefer straight aggression to the passive shit. That comes naturally.”
Another small laugh rumbled in his chest. He didn’t know why he liked pushing her buttons so much, but there it was. Alex didn’t help, but she held her own against him. His bear chuffed with pride at the fierce woman.
And Alex once again looked at him like he was crazy. Fuck him. Maybe he was. But dammit, he wanted to know what made her tick. By the Broken, he wanted to learn the simple things, too, like her favorite flower or movies she loved as a kid or treats when a sweet tooth hit.
“How’d you wind up working for those bastards, anyway?”
Sloan pursed her lips like she wanted to snap something at him. “You’re probably going to tell me I’m full of shit, but justice brought me here. I believe it exists for the richest man to the poorest. Human and shifter and every other creature alike.”
Lorne grunted. He felt like he’d been kicked in the chest. Justice. What a joke. There was take and take and take, all of it unfair. Innocents always got hurt. “Pretty words, and not at all how the world works.”
She was shaking her head even before he finished. The stubborn set of her jaw that’d tightened when Alex needled her returned. “Then shouldn’t we do everything in our power to make it work that way? Sitting by and talking shit is easy. Having the balls to stand up to a bully is the brave change needed.”
“Brave isn’t always smart. It isn’t even always successful.” He took a stand for the side of good and right, once. He’d nearly been killed because of it.
The radio crackled again with another interruption. “This just in from our weather team. The tornado warning has been downgraded to a watch. Storms continue to move through the area, but the zones of significant worry have dissipated. Stay safe out there, folks.”
“Looks like you’re free to go, officer,” Alex sniped.
“Agent would be the appropriate term,” she shot back.
Lorne rolled to his feet and let off a short sigh. The air was heavy with tension that made his shoulders ache and his skin itch. He wanted to shift, he wanted to reach out and run his hands down Sloan’s arms, he wanted Alex gone.
He sure as hell didn’t want to let their short time together end. “Let me load your rig up and give you a lift. This rain isn’t going to quit anytime soon.”
Alex rubbed a hand over his head. “You sure about that with your thing going on?”
Sloan cocked her head, but didn’t say a word.
He wanted more time with her. A half hour crouched in a cellar while a storm spun above them wasn’t enough. A month wouldn’t be enough. He needed a lifetime.
On the other side of his roaring desire was the cold wash of truth. He couldn’t drag her into his mess. No matter how tough she seemed. His problems were his own. His fate was already determined. He didn’t want to imagine tears welling in those big blue eyes.
He needed to burn the bridge before it was even built. Drive her away, make her want to keep clear of him. If she couldn’t stand the sight of him, his bear would need to accept they weren’t meant to be.
There was no future with the woman. No seeing what they each liked.
Claws sank into his chest as his beast tore him apart from the inside out.
Lorne swallowed hard and kicked his bear to the back of his head. Instincts be damned. He could ask his questions and give her a ride, but that was where the line was drawn.
Weak man. Weak bear. He had to be strong to keep her safe. Safe meant away from him.
But he couldn’t get her words out of his head. Justice. The Bennetts thought they were serving it, but it was a plate spoiled by years of mistreatment and war. He could understand it, to an extent. Kick a dog enough and eventually, he’ll bite back.
“Yeah,” he told Alex gruffly. “And after, we can finish up here and head back to the ranch.”
He’d stood by with a shit attitude for long enough. Ian and the rest of his family could come for him. They could still put him down. But he wasn’t going to sit around and wait for it to happen.
Maybe it was time to bite.
Chapter 5
Sloan drummed her fingers against the table in front of her and waited for Crewe to enter the briefing room. Her shift was just about over, but with such a small unit, Crewe liked to brief everyone during the overlap. Said he couldn’t stand repeating himself.
August leaned closer and bumped her with his shoulder. “You got plans for the festival?”
Summertime Fest, as the folks in Bearden called it. The entire thing was a raucous mess, from what she’d been told. Fair food and rides during the day, music and other activities at night. Fireworks were even scheduled for the Fourth of July.
“Nothing formal. You?”
“Probably take the mate and cubs on my day off. The boys are dying to get on that damn roller coaster that dangles you upside down. They were too short last year. Might just pay off the workers to boost the sign up a few inches so their mom doesn’t get worried. She’d prefer if they stay on the spinning teacups for the rest of their lives.”
Sloan huffed a laugh. “My mom was the opposite. She couldn’t wait for me to do the thrill rides. Dad was the one who tossed everything if he spun around too f
ast.”
Something had shifted with her status since the storm. Lorne hadn’t bumped across the land for very long before her radio crackled with a hint of panic in August’s voice. Apparently, no one in the office wanted to be responsible for their only human agent being blown away during a rare tornado.
That she hadn’t caved during the storm or complained about fending for herself proved she wasn’t weak. They were almost treating her like an equal. August had thawed the most, but the suspicious looks from the rest had just about disappeared.
Crewe blew past in his usual clipped pace. “Quiet down, quiet down. We have a lot to discuss before everyone heads out.” Crewe rustled his papers and tapped them into order against the podium. “Rumors from our counterparts across the enclave line say a delegation from a nearby fae court will be attending the Summertime Fest. The Bearden PD has graciously asked us to help with security. No one wants a repeat of what happened last time.”
Heads nodded all around the room as Sloan raised her eyebrows. “What happened last time?”
August snorted. “Oh, just a little fae fuckery and outing our entire existence to you humans.”
Sloan frowned. Back to square one.
“Don’t forget the dragon fire,” someone else muttered.
Working for the feds was a different beast than working as a beat cop. Still, she found it hard to police a population when she knew so little about them. Their holidays, their stories, even their public history were more nuanced than she gleaned from reading reports and articles. She’d moved into the enclave to jumpstart her knowledge, but she still felt like an outsider ninety percent of the time.
She needed someone on call to pick their brain. She needed an informant. Instead of snitching on fellow criminals, she wanted to dig in and learn about the people of Bearden.
Sloan drummed her fingers once again. Maybe she had an in with someone. Someone she owed a huge thank you.
Lorne had run circles through her mind in the days since he manhandled her into the cellar. He was hot, yeah. All six-plus, muscled feet of him. And broody in a way that didn’t make her roll her eyes. His stretches of quiet were interesting. He wasn’t checked out in the slightest; he saw everything that went on around him.
He’d barely spoken after they left the cellar, but she’d felt watched during the entire drive. Not in a creepy sort of way, either. More like he worked to puzzle her out, the same as she tried with him. His raw intensity filled up the cab of his truck.
Talking to him about the town might be excuse enough to get close to him and figure out what went on in his head.
“Snow, you and Kent are to coordinate with Bearden PD. I want a plan on my desk tomorrow.” Crewe checked off an item on his list and nodded.
Sloan shot a wide-eyed look to August. Holy shit, an actual assignment. She wanted to run outside and see if the sky was still blue and water hadn’t become air.
August held out his fist and she bumped it. Something good came out of that twister.
Crewe continued, “In other news, some young buck looking to make a name for himself this election cycle is floating the idea of forced registration. We’ve also received requests for the numbers on recidivists. Might mean a push to cut back the three-strike rule.”
The attitude of the room immediately chilled. Sloan didn’t blame them. Forced registration had been tossed around from the start of the registration list. The three-strike rule was the compromise. Supernaturals were given three warnings before the SEA stepped in to solve the problem if the local authorities refused to act. Stripping away even that much power would step on the toes of police forces and clan hierarchy alike.
The Agency was already seen as overreaching to most folks. They’d earned the reputation, too, no thanks to assholes like her former partner and his suspect-beating ways. The olive branch of a shifter squad would be cut and burned to ash if the rules changed.
Fucking bosses. They always seemed to pull the exact move that made everyone’s job harder.
“Now, I’m sure I don’t need to remind to remind anyone, but I will say it in case your brains dripped out of your ears overnight. As always, the position of the Agency is that we will uphold the laws of the land.” Crewe narrowed his eyes on each of them in turn until the groans quieted. “I don’t want a single damn word saying otherwise getting out to the media folks. Do me a favor and watch your damn mouths. Dismissed.”
* * *
Off duty and full of greasy, delicious diner fare, Sloan checked both ways before jogging across the street. She had it on good authority from the diner’s owner that dessert from the coffee shop was the best way to fill the last remaining space in her stomach. Tommy also said to make sure she said that, so Faith would know he wasn’t stealing her customers.
The woman in question turned on a bright smile as soon as Sloan walked through the door. “Welcome to Mug Shot. Be right with you.”
Sloan stifled a laugh as she took in the decorations. A group of teenagers giggled as they snapped photos of each other in oversized prison-stripe shirts and wrote rude messages in chalk on a board meant to identify a suspect. Other photos were pinned to a corkboard and advertised the “Most Wanted” faces of Bearden.
Behind the counter wasn’t immune from the decor, either. The menu board was black with white lettering, and the aprons of the two women working were striped, too. Of all the theme establishments she’d heard of, Mug Shot was definitely her favorite. Bias be damned.
A dark hat bounced by the window and she jerked to attention. Like a puppet on a string, she turned to keep the man in sight.
Yep, she’d recognize that sauntering gait and his wide shoulders anywhere. They’d only crossed through her dreams for several nights straight.
Sloan quickly worked through her half-formed plans to casually cross paths with Lorne and give him her thanks. None jumped out to her as the way to ease into asking him to give her a leg up around town.
“What can I get for you?” A barista murmured behind her. Her nametag read Kate when Sloan turned back to the counter.
“Hey, so this might sound weird, but do you know what he likes?” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder and toward Lorne.
Mom always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Her father always rubbed a hand over his belly and kissed her cheek in indulgent agreement.
A pang of sadness socked Sloan right in her heart. They were a good couple, her folks. Supported one another through thick and thin. She missed her father like crazy and wanted to live up to his memory.
Even more, she wanted to find her place in the world. The tension in her new unit was beginning to fade. Maybe she could make a life for herself in Bearden.
Justice for all, and a happy home at the end of the day.
The idea was daunting. She’d tried everywhere else she’d been assigned, and failed. She was tired of being the outsider.
Kate followed the direction she jerked her thumb, then a knowing smile spread across her face. “Lorne? Yeah. Massive sweet tooth on that man. The chocolate blackouts are his favorite.”
Sloan felt her blood sugar cringe when she checked out the label on the chocolate cookies with chocolate chunks and garnished with chocolate syrup. “Perfect. I’ll take a half dozen of those.”
Her heart pounded against her breastbone as soon as she hit the sidewalk. Stupid. Silly. He hadn’t even looked at her, and she quaked worse than when Barry Sutton asked her to the school dance in sixth grade.
Sure, the man was pure sex. She’d be insane to not be attracted to him. Snug jeans clung to his powerful legs so tight she doubted she could even slip her hand into a back pocket. Those big muscles and scruffed up cheeks belonged in an underwear ad.
The state of her empty bed wasn’t the concern at that moment. She owed him a thank you. Even if he didn’t want to speak with her any further than that, he’d helped her out of a bind and moved her off desk duty.
“Lorne! Hey, wait up!”
He wh
irled around, wide eyes holding just a tinge of shock that disappeared quickly. His entire frame seemed to relax when he tipped the brim of his hat. “Agent Kent,” he rumbled. “Nice to see you dried out.”
Fire blazed under her skin as he dipped his gaze down her body. A thrum picked up the beat of her heart, right between her legs. Professional, she reminded herself, but that needy part of her wasn’t convinced.
Sloan cleared her throat. “I, uh, wanted to thank you for the other day.”
A simmering smile spread across his face. “Nothing to it.”
“Well, it was something to me. I asked at the coffee shop, and the barista said you liked these. So, thank you.” She shoved the black-and-white striped box at him.
Eyebrows shooting together, he lifted the top of the box and peeked inside. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to.”
“You always do everything you want?”
“When I’m not following orders.”
Holy hell. The words tumbled out of her mouth before she had a chance to consider them. Well, shit. No taking them back now that they were alive.
Lorne’s lips quirked into a hot as sin smirk that had her suddenly blushing. Blushing! Like she was some sweet little girl from next door, and not a snitch bitch struggling to figure out where she stood with her new assignment.
He stiffened suddenly. His nostrils flared and his eyes brightened to a glowing gold. He stared at something over her shoulder hard enough for her to turn and see what was running for them.
“What?” she asked when she twisted back around.
“Nothing,” he growled. “Just thought I saw someone in the crowd.”
Before she could ask, he shook himself and tilted his head to the side. His hand reached out and touched the small of her back. “Come on. Let’s get off the sidewalk. You been down to the river?”
Sloan trailed after him even when the light pressure and wave of heat against her back lifted. “Just what I’ve seen from the back patio of the barbecue place.”
Breaking Fate: Book Three: Black Claw Ranch Page 4
