Beneath This Mask

by Victoria Sue

  Jake had to think a minute. His mind wasn’t on work, and he had to drag it back. “Because the BAU is calling it serial, which meant they had to be pretty convinced even without a cause of death. The only link for the other two, apart from them both being enhanced, is a photograph.”

  Gael grunted noncommittedly. “Why do you want to go to the crime scene? I mean, it’s been weeks and they cleared it.”

  Jake seriously considered lying, but Gael sounded merely curious, not like he was making an issue out of anything. “My dad worked homicide for over twenty years. He had this saying….” Jake grinned wryly. “Actually, he had a shit-ton of sayings, but one of his favorite was ‘a different set of eyes never sees the same picture.’”

  There was another short silence while they got off Exit 9. “Did you work in homicide, then?” Gael asked.

  “No, I was a beat cop for a few years before I joined SWAT.” Jake’s hands were suddenly clammy on the steering wheel. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died on his tongue even as the bitter taste lingered.

  “Have you ever been down here before?” Gael asked.

  Jake took a breath, glad the personal questions were over. The closer they got to the water, the fancier the houses got on the right-hand side. It was a clear division of money, though. To his right the water views were swanky and well-maintained. The small, battered houses on the left would be rubble in the face of the hurricanes Florida produced on a regular basis.

  “Only a ride-through when I first came to the area. The unit’s sergeant used to make you orientate yourself for the first few days.”

  “Carmichael?” Gael said sharply.

  Jake nodded, and the atmosphere dropped in the car. The rest of the ride was completely silent.

  “We have to tell the site security we’re here,” Jake commented as they pulled up to a collection of temporary buildings and various machinery. They found the foreman nearly immediately and introduced themselves. Jake flashed his badge, and the foreman scanned both IDs warily. His eyes widened a little at Gael, but he just waved them through after handing them hard hats, cautioning them to report back soon and not to leave the site until they had done so.

  Jake looked at the houses. All boarded up. Brick fronts. There were about eight still standing, some so dangerous, especially after Hermine had ripped through last year, they had been taped off.

  “It’s the end house,” Gael said, and they both stared. Two stories, red brick, and a lean-to sunroom-type thing to the side. There were outside steps on the other side leading up to the second floor, and the first had a huge boarded-up window that looked like a storefront. “It was a tobacco store back in the day,” Gael supplied. Jake knew, but he was surprised Gael had bothered to find out.

  “And the entrance to the storeroom is behind the stairs inside,” Jake confirmed, and walked to the front and started yanking at the boards. The key to the only door had long since been lost. “They’re gonna flatten it anyway, right?” he shouted behind him.

  Warm hands covered his own, and Jake jumped and took a step back.

  “Let me,” Gael said woodenly, and Jake could have cursed. Gael had to think he was flinching at him. He was, but not for the reason Gael likely assumed. This really wasn’t gonna work. Jake was determined to stay, to do some good, but he was getting nowhere with Gael, and now… what? He liked the guy? “Here,” Gael said, stepping through the hole in the storefront where he’d ripped the boards away. Jake knew they’d been removed initially and then replaced when the crime scene guys had finished.

  He followed Gael through, the sunlight streaming in. They both went toward a door at the back, or half a door. What was left of it, anyway.

  “The cellar is down there.”

  “It’s not exactly a cellar, though, is it? I mean, Florida? Do they actually have anything that would flood?”

  “More a storeroom,” Gael acknowledged. “No windows.”

  It had been an anonymous phone call. Some kids thinking they were all badass and going somewhere to smoke weed. They had scared themselves to death and phoned the cops. Jake had listened to the 911 call. Small, scared voices. Definitely kids.

  Gael put his hand on the door and paused at the marks. He fingered the scratches and the different-colored paint where something had been. “Locks?”

  “Bolts,” Jake said in disgust. “They were taken away by the local PD when everyone was done, for safety. A ton of fingerprints but nothing on file.”

  Gael stared at the door and then pushed it open. He had to duck. Jake followed him in, bending as well. It was a small space, probably 8 x 10. Jake pulled the photographs out of the file, and Gael silently held out his hand.

  “The mattress was in that corner.” Jake nodded to the top end and passed him the scene photos. The mattress was where they had found the man’s starved body.

  “How long was he here?” Gael asked quietly.

  “They think at least a few weeks.”

  He’d been just a teenager. A baby. Jake had seen some messed-up shit, but this?

  Gael suddenly whirled around and was out of the door back into the store before Jake thought about what he’d said. He took one more look around the empty space and then headed out after Gael. He stepped through the storefront they had uncovered and saw Gael with his back to him. For a second he wondered if it had made him sick, but Gael was standing still, breathing quietly. Jake chewed his lip, processing the hunched shoulders, the powerful arms that were currently wrapped around his body, the bent head.

  “Hey,” Jake said, putting his hand on Gael’s back. Gael stiffened slightly but didn’t take a step away. “When I was a beat cop, we were called to a house,” Jake continued conversationally. “Neighbors upstairs were complaining of a god-awful smell and had called the landlord. We went in. The tenant had two kids. He’d shot the kids and turned the gun on himself because he’d caught his wife having an affair. I was due to take the detective’s exam the month after, and I canceled and went into SWAT instead.” Jake took a breath of clean air, and Gael looked up, fixing his eyes on him. Jake would never forget the smell as they walked in or the sheer defeat it would have taken to push someone to do that, to end the lives of their children. “That’s when I knew I could never do that full-time,” he added, dropping his hand awkwardly.

  “When I first transformed, I lived with my dad, uncle, and my kid brother. We knew to avoid Dad because he drank, and when things weren’t going well, it was better to stay out of his way.”

  Jake stayed completely still. Gael’s blue eyes had deepened, and even though they were fixed on his own, he knew Gael wasn’t really looking at him.

  “We had a cellar. A proper one. Wyatt had done something to piss him off, and there was some lady coming around from his school or something.” Gael’s brow furrowed. “Dad said I had to get lost, so I headed for the front door, but Wyatt started crying. He didn’t want me going anywhere. Dad blew up. Said Wyatt was going to get exactly what he’d asked for, and he locked me in the cellar. Said if Wyatt behaved, he would let me out.” Gael swallowed. “Dumb, I guess. I was only in there for just over a day, but it was the longest twenty-four hours of my life, and I can’t think what weeks would have been like.”

  Jake didn’t know what to say. Any empty sympathy would be insulting. “I know this great little café down by the water,” he started cautiously. “What do you think about grabbing a coffee before we go see Adero’s family?”

  Jake waited, holding his breath while Gael looked kind of puzzled at him. Then Gael smiled. His skin crinkled and the scar on the left side of his face pulled tight, but Jake didn’t care about any of that. He was too busy staring into smoky dark blue eyes and getting lost in them.

  Chapter Three

  GAEL BLEW on his coffee, more for something to do than to cool it down. What the hell had possessed him to tell Jake that? He hadn’t even told Talon that story. But he knew. It was the room, the small enclosed space, and he remembered it as if it had
been yesterday.

  “Get out of my fucking sight.”

  Gael had headed to the door, more frightened that his dad would take out his anger on Wyatt than on him. He was all of eight years old now; what had seemed to be a huge number at the time. He would have done anything to protect Wyatt, and had. He’d forgotten the number of times he’d gotten a beating because he had stepped between Wyatt and his dad, so being asked to get out of the way was no big deal.

  But then Wyatt had cried and tried to get past their dad to get to him, and the old man had really lost it then. He’d dragged Gael over by his arm—Gael would have to hide the bruise at school—and pushed him behind the door before he’d wrapped his brain around what his dad was going to do.

  It was dark. Not just turn-the-light-off dark. Not the whispered good nights or the gentle brush of lips that he could still remember. Not the perfume or the comforting arms. This dark was empty, a yawning space ready to swallow him whole. For a heart-stopping second, Gael’s pulse drummed so loudly in his ears, he had thought there was someone else there until he realized the whimpers he could hear were coming from his own throat.

  He had stayed on the steps for hours. He could hear voices from behind the door. His hearing was sharp, and he had listened, hypervigilant for any cry from his brother now that Gael wasn’t there to protect him. He had finally had to pee down the concrete steps, not daring to move, and he was so thirsty. Gael wasn’t really sure how long he had been down there, certainly all the next day because he had heard the TV, and then finally his uncle had let him out with a brusque instruction to get a shower.

  Wyatt had cried again when Gael had crept back upstairs. He’d promised he would always take care of him years before, one night when Wyatt had crept into his bed and they’d both heard their mother crying and their dad shouting. Heard the heavy slam of the door and hoped with everything in them—until the game had come on TV and they’d both known the wrong parent had left.

  Wyatt didn’t really remember their mom, and even Gael wasn’t sure if the things he remembered were imagined or real.

  “You want something else?”

  Gael blinked, realizing he had been lost in the dark. He looked at the cup he clutched, nearly cold and took a breath. “Sorry.” Sorry for the coffee, sorry for spacing out, sorry he couldn’t be the partner he wanted to be. For a second he nearly shared the letter he had gotten three weeks ago, but he wasn’t sure he was even ready to admit that hurt to himself yet, never mind to a stranger. And if he was honest, Jake being ENu was merely a blip. If he hadn’t received the letter, he would have coped.

  He looked over at Jake’s empty cup. “Want a refill? I’m gonna get this warmed up.”

  “Sure, but to go. I’d like to get to Adero’s place.”

  Gael nodded and took both cups to the counter. A lady was turning around as Gael stepped forward, and her eyes widened as she took in Gael’s face. He was going to take a step back, used to trying to appear nonthreatening, when she tried the same and seemed to get her feet tangled in her hurry. Her cup wobbled dramatically, and Gael lunged to catch it, ignoring the sharp gasp from her and the sting from the hot coffee on his wrist.

  “Ma’am,” he said gently, respectfully, and she took a breath, hand flying to her heart.

  “I’m so sorry. You st-startled me,” she stuttered out, Gael trying not to wince as he rubbed his hand on his pants to dry it. “Oh, you poor dear. Look at what my clumsiness has done.” She reached to take the cup from Gael, who was too stunned at her reaction to stop her. “You need some water on that,” she confided, worriedly, turning to put the cup down.

  Gael opened his mouth and closed it completely at a loss.

  “Are you okay?” she pressed, and Gael’s throat tightened. Just then it was a little too much, especially from a lady around fifty years old with a soft smile and what must be a kind heart. He wasn’t used to concern. He was used to fear.

  He cleared his throat, suddenly conscious of Jake standing beside him. “I’m fine, thank you, ma’am. Sorry to have startled you.”

  She beamed and patted his arm. He was so stunned he didn’t take much notice of Jake ordering their refills, or of the lady smiling and going to join her friend in the corner. He blinked and followed Jake out of the door.

  “You need me to stop anywhere to get you something for that?” Jake nodded to his hand.

  Gael shook his head. “No, it’s fine, thanks,” he said, still stunned at the way his morning was going.

  Jake unlocked his truck and hopped in. “Can you check the address?”

  Gael opened the file and typed it into his phone. It was going to take them nearly an hour to get to N. Florida Avenue, and West Seneka Ave was just off that. Adero’s brother owned a massive lawn-care company, but he was staying with his girlfriend’s family while the crime scene was being processed, and they wanted to talk to him first.

  Gael shot a sideways look at Jake when he shifted in his seat.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Gael stiffened. He didn’t want to dissect his reaction any more. “Sure,” he said evenly, really trying. It wasn’t Jake’s fault.

  “How come you got burned?”

  Gael huffed. “Because I got hot liquid on my hand?” He tried to rein in the sarcasm.

  Jake drew a breath. “No, that’s not what I mean. I guess I want to know how is it bullets bounce off you, but you can get hurt by a lady and her coffee?”

  Fuck. Gael nearly swore. How the hell?

  “To explain, I know what Talon and Sawyer can do. I would have to be blind not to know that.”

  Gael breathed. Jake was right. He’d been there a few weeks ago when they’d had to walk through a brick wall to enter a building where Finn was being held.

  “And you wear exactly the same uniform as I do. You weren’t wearing special body armor when you shielded the judge at that town hall demo in March, despite what Gregory told the papers.”

  “Who else knows?” Gael clipped out.

  Jake frowned. “How the hell should—” He snapped his mouth closed, and Gael knew instantly he’d gone too far. Jake brought the truck to a screeching halt. Horns blared as cars swerved to avoid them.

  “I—” Gael started.

  “Fuck you,” Jake snarled, turning to him. “I haven’t told anyone. All I’ve done in the last two months is bail you lot out of trouble wherever I could. I’ve kept every secret I’ve ever learned. I even got shit about it from Carmichael.” He clamped his lips closed, but Gael heard the outrage loud and clear.

  He processed the words. “What shit with Carmichael?” Gael had an awful feeling he knew.

  “Nothing,” Jake snapped, and Gael heaved a sigh.

  “When you came into work all beat up, you said your sergeant was tough with your training, but you meant Carmichael, didn’t you? Not where you were training.”

  Gael took Jake’s silence as confirmation.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Jake said.

  God, he was a selfish idiot who hadn’t given a thought to what Jake might have gone through. All he’d thought about was their enemy joining their team. He’d never given a thought to certain shitheads counting Jake as another type of enemy. Carmichael and Atkinson would have taken it as a personal insult. Jake was lucky he was still standing.

  Then he remembered Jake had taken two personal days off right after his training. He’d bet the black eye was the least of it.

  Fuck.

  Gael was a complete shit, and this had gone on long enough. He was punishing Jake for something that wasn’t his fault. He was better than this.

  “Look, I need to tell you some things. I have some stuff going on right now.”

  Jake nodded but didn’t look excited at Gael’s sharing.

  “Maybe when we’ve done the interview and finished meeting the team, we can go get a beer or something?”

  “I got my medical at three.”

  “Great,” Gael tried to enthuse a little. “We’ll see if
any of the guys want to get a beer after we’re all done. I need to tell them as well.”

  “LOOK.” AMY Nealson pushed a photograph into Gael’s hand. “Adero was the best future brother a girl could want. He was gentle, protective. He would do anything for anyone.”

  Gael gazed at the photo. Adero was on Amy’s left, and his brother, Mateo, was on her right. Amy was tiny, and Mateo was a lean five feet ten. Adero, however, was six feet plus and wasn’t far off Vance’s size. The big man still topped him, though. Gael smiled and handed the picture to Jake.

  “Sir, I know you’ve been through this, but can you tell me again what you know of Adero’s ability?”

  “We just don’t want the papers making out this had to do with his ability. They might stop looking for the guy,” Mateo said earnestly, which Gael understood.

  Jake got out a notebook while Gael and Mateo talked. Jake had agreed Gael should take the lead because Mateo had been defensive when he had first talked to the cops.

  “How old was Adero when he transformed?” Gael gestured to his cheek in case they were in any doubt about what he meant.

  “Twelve,” Mateo said, raising his arm so Amy could snuggle closer. “There’s three years between us. Mom and Dad died in a five-car collision on I-4 eight years ago. It was their money that gave us the start-up for the business, but it was Adero’s idea. I always wanted to run my own business, studied for it in college, and Adero was working for a lawn company at the time. The guy used to make him wear oversized headphones when he was sitting on the lawnmower. They didn’t actually protect his ears—they just covered his scar so he couldn’t frighten any of the customers.” Mateo took a breath, and Amy squeezed his arm. “My brother was the softest, kindest man you would ever meet. The only time I ever saw him cry for himself was when our doctor confirmed that all enhanced were sterile.”

  Gael swallowed quickly. It was like the universe found new ways to flip them off all the time.

  “But even then he said he would foster kids. The ones no one wanted. The ones other people threw away,” Mateo said, and Amy buried her head in Mateo’s shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong, Mom and Dad never once treated Adero any different. They were great. They never once made him feel less than anyone else.”