Magic and Shadows: A Collection of YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romances

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Magic and Shadows: A Collection of YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romances Page 66

by T. M. Franklin


  “What?” She didn’t understand what he sought permission for.

  “I’m going to kiss you now, Fú. I think it’s time.”

  “Serious?” She placed her hand on his chest. “Here, now? In the open?”

  “Yes. Here, under the stars, away from the crap we have to deal with. We’re supposed to be a couple anyway,” he teased.

  “So pushy.” She removed her hand from his chest. This was her big moment. At seventeen, this was her first kiss. She’d never allowed anyone to get close to her for fear of them finding out the truth. She sucked in a breath and put her hand back on his chest. A fine tremor worked through her. Dang, why did she have to be so darn nervous?

  “I’ve got you,” he murmured, lowering his head. Abe brought his hand up to her cheek and instantly, she calmed. She gave him the briefest of nuzzles before their lips met.

  The sweet meeting was over before it began. When he pulled back, she wanted him to return. The sensation of something bigger than her surrounded her. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was or how it worked but it did. “Wow.” She touched her lips.

  “Wow, is right.” He released her then and took her hand. “I’m going to want to kiss you again. A lot.”

  Yeah. So did she.

  * * *

  Once the sun touched the horizon, they finally stood from their precarious perch above the old, abandoned warehouse. They’d gotten few details except for a couple of van plates and taken a few pictures of the people who came and went from inside. Detective Michaels would have to enhance the pictures so they could get positive identifications from them. All and all, they’d done a good night’s work.

  She yawned on the way back to the vehicle and her jaw popped. Her eyes were heavy from lack of sleep and as it was, they wouldn’t be home for at least an hour. Tell me why we’re doing this on a school night?

  She supposed people like this didn’t work a regular nine-to-five job. Too bad too. Fallon climbed into the passenger seat and let her hair down. The constriction of the band in her hair caused her head to hurt. She blamed her tiredness as well. After putting on her seatbelt she curled into the seat. The soft conversation between Grainger, War, and Abe comforted her as her eyes drooped close.

  When she and Abe returned to their lookout point, things seemed to simmer down between her and Grainger. He mellowed out or she did. Maybe. Either way, it didn’t matter. What did, had been her recognition of their circumstances. Collectively, they were put into shitty positions, which happened to be all Fallon’s fault—as much as she hated to admit it.

  The interior light came on and she winced. “Turn it off.”

  Seconds later it did. “Sorry. Had to get in. You okay?”

  “Almost twenty-four hours of no sleep. Crashing hard.” She smothered a yawn. “I need a couple of hours downtime.”

  “Sleep then. We’ll be home soon.”

  She cracked her eyes opened and noticed for the first time the orange line on the horizon had grown considerably. Not good. She still had school in a few hours. How the heck did she work this out? How could she stay awake in class if she didn’t sleep at night? “We’re going to have to talk about our hours together.”

  “Oh?” Grainger started the vehicle then made a u-turn. “How’s that?”

  “I need my sleep.”

  “Tonight is the only time we have to do it this way. I promise. Now, get some rest. I heard you have a Spanish test tomorrow.”

  “Yo no comprendo,” she mumbled.

  Grainger laughed. The rough rumble warmed her, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “I bet you don’t. I didn’t say it out there, but you did good tonight. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks. Now shushy the lipsys. I need sleep.”

  War laughed. “Pleasant dreams, tigress.”

  “Dream of us,” Abe added.

  Oh, she’d been sure she would, especially after the kiss in the field.

  The next time she opened her eyes, the light pink rays of the early morning sun pierced her retinas, blinding her momentarily. The SUV sat parked in front of her house, and Grainger stood beside her, taking off her seatbelt. “Morning.”

  “Don’t remind me. I need coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”

  He helped her out. “I have been assured your aunt has tea specifically for days like this.”

  She whined. “Why can’t I get a half-whipped latte with a double shot of caffeine?”

  “I’m going to assume you asked a rhetorical question and leave you to it.” He walked with her up to the door. “So, I’ll see you around. I’ll get the info to Michaels, and we’ll go from there.”

  “Great. See you later. After I’ve had a nap and some caffeine.”

  “You said that already,” he teased.

  “So I did. It’s the truth… for a change.” Fallon surprised herself when she gave him a hug before heading inside. She closed the door behind her and let out a breath. Yep, today was going to be sucksville. Might as well board the train and grab a window seat for the shit-show.

  “There you are,” her aunt said as she came into the foyer. “Did you make progress on your case?”

  Kind of. A little. How much did she tell her aunt about this stuff? Her aunt handed Fallon a cup. The putrid scent didn’t invoke waking up vibes. However, when she took the first swallow of it, she sighed. A bit of her sleepiness dissolved on a small buzz of energy. “What is this?”

  “An old family recipe.” Her aunt smiled. “Take this with you and go get ready for school. When you come home, I’ll have dinner for you and then you can sleep. If you have any troubles at school, Detective Michaels said to call him and he’ll adjust your schedule.”

  She blew on the cup before taking another drink. “You seem to be taking this okay. Especially after everything.”

  “Not every day my niece becomes an Arrowfire team member. I’m proud of you. I know how upset I was with you. I just want the best. You can’t fault me for such.”

  Yeah. Don’t remind her. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

  “Go, before you are too late. I’ve packed you breakfast and lunch, along with a thermos of this tea. Use it sparingly or else you’ll become too hyper and anxious.”

  “Thank you.” She gripped her aunt’s arm. “For everything.”

  7

  “Have you even slept yet?” Warren glanced up as Grainger walked into the small conference room they were meeting in. He left the door open, since only Warren was seated at the table.

  “Is this your way of telling me I look like crap?” Grainger pulled out his chair before he sat down.

  “No. Just wondering,” Warren replied, a look of concern in his gaze.

  “About an hour, maybe two,” Grainger answered, flicking open the folder with the data from the previous night…or wait this morning’s stake out? Shit, overnight. Damn he needed sleep. “Where’s Abraham?”

  “Here,” the other Vampire stated as he moved quickly to his seat beside Warren. “Dude, you look like hell.”

  Grainger cocked a brow at Warren. “Thought you said I looked fine.”

  “I lied,” he snickered.

  “Somehow, I doubt he’d lie about your ugly mug,” Abraham snickered.

  “Awesome.” Although most supernatural creatures could, and often did, go without sleep for extended periods of time, Vampires required the deep REM sleep. The kind mortals used for regenerative health cognitive thinking. His quick nap didn’t cut it. “Michaels ran the two van plates we got pictures of. Surprise, surprise one was reported stolen several days ago. The second one is registered to Yegor Orlov, out of New York City.”

  Abraham whistled. “Bratva.”

  “Yeah.” Grainger leaned back in the chair and let out a tired sigh. “Michaels said it could explain how they are getting some of the contraband out of the country and distributed across the United States. Orlov holds the docks in New York City and owns several cross-country trucking companies.”

  Warren reached over, takin
g one of the folders from Grainger while Abraham did the same. The information had been sparse, yet would be enough to get their foot in the door.

  “Contraband?” Abraham spat, his tone heavy with disgust. “They’re calling it contraband? It’s paranormals who are being murdered, chopped up into pieces, and sold for medical purposes to humans who are too stupid for their own good.”

  “I’m aware. It’s why we’re all working hard to stop it and arrest those responsible for doing it. This.” He tapped the page in front of him. “Is our best lead yet. We need to stay focused and work it like we work every other case.”

  “What about the pictures I took?” Warren asked, his voice calm.

  “One picture was too blurry for the computer program. The other clear as day. Page three,” he said, flipping to it. “Facial recognition got a hit. It’s one of Yegor’s Brigadiers, Evgeni Blok. From what information Michaels could glean, Evgeni is one of Yegor’s most trusted men.”

  “And most dangerous,” Warren growled. “His rap sheet is massive.”

  “This is just from the U.S. Michaels requested his records from Russia and Interpol. Should have it in the next four or five hours. It’s bigger.”

  “What do we have on Yegor?” Abraham flipped through the intel.

  “Not much. As the Pakhan, or boss, he mostly stays to the shadows. What we were able to gather on him is on page two.”

  Silence filled the small conference room as Warren and Abraham read through the leads they’d gathered in the last few hours.

  Warren cursed. “Dude, they’re involved in sex trafficking, both human and shifter.”

  “Fallon needs to be removed from this case,” Abraham declared, his fangs appearing above his lower lip.

  Not good.

  “I’ve already had this discussion with Michaels. He said our personal feelings should not interfere with the case. Fallon can complete this assignment. She’s capable.”

  “She’s not even freaking trained, Grainger,” the vampire lisped, thanks to his fangs.

  “Technically, she isn’t. She has good instincts and street smarts. Don’t underestimate her.” Warren tapped the center of the page. “Not sure if you noticed, we’re all in the same danger. They just don’t take females.” The demon lurking below the surface showed himself for the first time in months. His pupils dilated until their blackness consumed the sclera. Stare too long and, according to folklore, they swallowed you as well.

  Grainger glanced away first. “You are correct. They take both males and females.”

  “What about removing her?” Abraham inquired.

  “Fallon stays. It’s not even up for discussion. Both her and her aunt will be informed of the situation.”

  “Her aunt’s going to kick your ass,” Warren stated.

  “No doubt. But, being on a Arrowfire team doesn’t come without risks,” he reminded them.

  “She’s not a member,” Abraham said.

  “Not yet, she isn’t. Michaels promised me she would be one, no matter the outcome of this case,” he disclosed.

  “I think it would be best to come up with our game plan, figure out an exit plan if it goes south—”

  “I’ve already talked to Michaels. I’m going to be the bait,” he said softly, waiting for the protests he knew would come. It didn’t take them long.

  “Stupid. I should be the bait. I’m the incubus. My demon thrives on sex.” Warren snapped.

  Abraham shook his head.

  “Detective Michaels considered you.” Grainger flicked his gaze towards Abraham before moving back to Warren. “Your relationship makes you unqualified.”

  Warren laughed. “I’m not gay. I’m bi, hence why I have the hots for Fallon.”

  He ignored Warren’s comment, having already been aware of the fact. “Michaels is aware of the situation with Fallon, with all of us being involved. He feels once we complete the mating, it will make us a stronger team. You were eliminated as an option because if we lose you, we run the risk of losing Abraham. I carry no risk.”

  “Other than Fallon being heartbroken,” Abraham added.

  He shrugged. “Nothing is started or completed. If I go down, she still has the two of you. As it stands now, she has a connection with you, it should be easy for her to have a connection with Warren, since you two are already in a relationship.”

  Warren snorted.

  Abraham persisted. “If you think she doesn’t have feelings for you, you’d be wrong. She just doesn’t understand her feelings for all of us. Or how it will work out.”

  “This is about our job. Nothing more, nothing less. Who we have feelings for, or who our mate is, is secondary to everything.”

  “Says the guy who has no connections,” Warren quipped.

  “We’re a team, shouldn’t this have been a decision we made as a group?” Abraham grumbled.

  “I’m the leader. I make the decisions.”

  “You’re a cold-hearted asshole,” Warren snarled, his lip curling in disgust.

  He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. Their reaction didn’t surprise him one bit. He had even told Michaels both of guys would protest their decision. He’d been cold, even harsh about it. His advice? ‘Tell them to suck it up and do their damn jobs.’ Easier said than done, especially since they were friends. Adding in sharing the same mate only complicated things.

  “This is true. It’s part and parcel of being a Vampire.” He grinned at the demon. “You know, being the undead, and no longer having a soul.”

  Warren leaned forward in his chair, getting in his face. “I’m well familiar with your kind. I happen to be in love with one, so this act is just that. An act,” he hissed.

  Abraham leaned forward, placing a hand on Warren’s shoulder to pull him back into his seat. Surprisingly, Warren didn’t fight him, going willingly. “This is getting us nowhere, other than getting angry at each other. We have work to do, making sure our team is safe, and have a plan in play to protect Grainger.”

  “Since Michaels seems to be full of awesome ideas, does he have a plan to use you as bait?” The blackness receded in Warren’s eyes as he folded his hands together. However, the sarcasm in his voice remained.

  He smiled. “Actually, I came up with the plan. Boss signed off on it, and will provide us with whatever backup we need,” he stated.

  “Screw back up. We got our sixes covered together,” Warren proclaimed.

  “Lay it on us,” Abraham said.

  “I’m betting the warehouse we were at last night is containment center. Buyers come in, scope out the merchandise, make a purchase that is later shipped out to its destination,” Grainger stated.

  “For the ‘contraband,’” Abraham made air quotes around contraband. “Or the sex-slaves?” he asked.

  “Both.” He leaned forward. “Michaels got a hold of old blueprints for the building. It seems the original owner was ex-military, who worked on the Manhattan Project. He seemed to have a fear of thermonuclear fall out and because of this, he built a massive bomb shelter under the building you see sitting there now. It’s where we suspect the shifters are being kept.”

  “Makes sense. Still doesn’t explain how you’re going to be bait?”

  He gave Warren his full attention. “It’s actually pretty easy, if you think about it.”

  “Well, how about you explain it to us lesser paranormals.”

  He laughed. “I’m going to wander around the building, alone, hungry and desperate. Easy prey.”

  “Oh, cripes. That’s so simple it might just work,” Abraham said.

  “Right. I thought the more uncomplicated it is, the better chance we have of it working.”

  “Agreed. We can place GPS skin tags on your body. So in case you’re moved or hidden before we can get you out safely, we’ll know where to find you,” Warren added, scribbling notes on his packet.

  “How are we going to link it back to the Bratva or Yegor?” Abraham asked.

  “That’s the million-
dollar question. If we do this, it has to be done right, otherwise he’ll just continue doing it.” Warren said, tapping his pen on the table as if it would help him think.

  “How? We already know Yegor won’t come to the warehouse, since he sticks to the shadows.” Abraham quirked a brow.

  “Got it.” Apparently, it did help Warren think. “It’s simple really. Yegor won’t show up at the warehouse, but we know Evgeni Blok will. We stake out the warehouse each night, waiting for the van with the New York plates. When we see them, you become lost and go a knockin’ on their front door. Bingo, you’re in like Flynn.”

  He nodded. There was only one problem with Warren’s plan though. “Evgeni won’t roll on his boss though. Russian mobsters are hardcore.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We’d have the link. Russian Brigadiers don’t do anything without the big Boss knowing or approving it. Michaels can involve the FBI, who, I’m sure will be creaming in their pants to get a solid lead to take him down.”

  “I’ll let Michaels know.” Grainger pointed to Warren. “Get a work order written up on whatever you think we’ll need provision wise. We’re going back tonight.” He pointed to Abraham. “Want to take on telling Fallon all this?”

  “Dude, you suck,” Abraham groaned. “She’s going to kick my ass.”

  “Nah, she won’t. It’s too cute and sexy to ruin,” Warren teased.

  Abraham strolled up to Fallon’s home as the sun set, casting the front yard in hues of orange and pink. He knocked on the door to announce his arrival, then stood to the side. The idea of allowing Grainger to walk in there, without back up, then having to do it again with Fallon drove him insane. He tried to come up with a million different scenarios to keep them together as a unit. But none of them would work. Someone had to go in alone. Someone had to be the bait and someone had to be eager beaver looking to get a toe in the door. He heard the minute Fallon approached the door. Her aunt must not have been far behind, as she spoke in rapid Mandarin. She’d been insistent too. Maybe he’d have to learn the language like Grainger, so he’d know what the woman said.

 

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