Liar For Hire

by Tressie Lockwood

  With a trickle of blood streaming down Patrick’s chin, he jumped up and came at Declan. Janessa didn’t think before moving in front of Declan and facing Patrick. She held up a hand, begging, “Stop, please.”

  “Move, Nessa,” Declan ordered.

  “I’m not going anywhere. What the heck is up with you two? I want an explanation right now!”

  The restaurant manager appeared. “I’m going to have to ask you folks to leave before I call the police.”

  Patrick wiped blood from his chin with a slight smile. “Interesting, she’s got you tamed, Declan. Have you selected her as your mate?”

  “That’s not your business.”

  Patrick pulled his wallet from his jacket and peeled off a few bills. “This will take care of the meal and the chair and for your trouble, sir. I apologize for the disturbance.”

  The manager went from anger to understanding in a flash. Janessa figured Patrick gave him far more than what was necessary. The three of them left the restaurant, and Janessa scanned the lot. There was no way a man as smartly dressed as Patrick drove one of the dated cars nearby.

  “Can we give you a ride somewhere, Patrick?”

  Patrick grinned at Declan. “I have transportation.”

  “Where?” She checked the lot again.

  He pointed up and chuckled, far too amused with himself. She grew more irritated with his stupid remarks that made no sense. Odder still was Declan’s devastation at the simple statement. Her best friend spun away and stumbled over to his car, leaving her standing there with Patrick.

  She took the opportunity to question him alone. “You’ve been sending jibes at him since you got here. I know you two have history, and it seems like it’s something bad. Why would you want to hire us if you hate him so much, or do you want to torture him?”

  “He’s told you nothing of his past?”

  “Why don’t you tell me where you come in?”

  He studied her face. “You’re different from the kind of woman I expected him to be with.”

  “We’re not together. We’re business partners and best friends.”

  “Ah-huh.” He didn’t appear to get her. “For the record, I don’t hate Declan. I don’t respect him. Just as I didn’t respect his parents.”

  “His parents? Please, tell me more.”

  He shook his head. “If you are just his friend and not his mate, then I can’t tell you anything. My loyalties are to my people, and I take them very seriously. I won’t ever betray them. Not like Declan.”

  She felt sick to her stomach.

  “Good day, Ms. Waverly. It seems I won’t be hiring you after all. I’ll find some other way of finding out the truth regarding my future son-in-law. When I get back, I’ll have my secretary send you payment for your time.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “I insist.”

  He walked around the back of the restaurant. Rather than speculate on his direction, she turned her thoughts to Declan. When she got back to the car, Declan sat silent and still behind the wheel.

  “Want to tell me what that was all about, Declan?”

  “No.”

  “I—”

  He started the car. “And before you threaten me, do whatever you have to do. If you dissolve the business, I accept that. If you need to end our friendship, that’s okay too. I won’t tell you about my past or why he questions my loyalties.”

  Her heart broke, and she had trouble swallowing. “How could you hear what he said from fifty feet away?”

  Chapter 6

  A breeze stirred all around Declan. He breathed it in, welcoming it as a familiar friend. He stood upon a cliff’s edge and gazed down into the valley below. A smile spread over his face as he anticipated taking the plunge, allowing the wind to guide him where it may.

  He thrilled at the anticipation and yearned to let go. Still, he held back, waiting. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he dove out. Muscles twitched in his back. He expected to catch the air and soar. Instead, he plummeted. Panic set in. This must be a mistake.

  He checked over his shoulder, and the full horror hit him in the face. One gnarled wing refused to unfurl. Although he willed the appendage to pump, it refused to move. Trying to compensate, the other wing clawed at nothing, struggling to give him lift. He continued to fall. The single healthy wing couldn’t carry his weight. He would die on the rocks below.

  Jerking awake with a cry, Declan hurtled over the side of the bed. He caught himself with one hand before he landed face first on the floor. Panting, he tried to calm his erratic heart rate, but the dream clung to him and threatened to drag him into the nightmare once again.

  After he clicked the light on, he sat on the side of the bed, hands over his face. Sweat dripped down his back and in his armpits. He thought these dreams were a thing of the past. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one. Then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. Not after that meeting with Patrick.

  How had he found Declan, and did Patrick’s cousin truly own a restaurant nearby? The last time Declan checked, no shifter of any kind lived within two hundred miles. That’s why he settled where he did, to be alone, away from his people or any reminder of them.

  Recalling what he had said to Janessa brought bile to his throat. Shame and hopelessness washed over him. What would he do if she weren’t a part of his life? She had made it bearable. While he had no intention of making her his mate, he didn’t want to lose her either.

  Mate?

  He hadn’t thought of a relationship in those terms in a long time. In fact, he deliberately struck the ways of his people from his heart and mind. Nevertheless, the past found him in the form of Patrick. Resentment replaced the shame, and he swore.

  What should he do? Run? Maybe. For now, he needed a shower and a drink. No, not a drink. That was a recipe for disaster. His clear head had allowed him to smell the shifter they traveled toward. He could pick up his own kind within twenty miles. It was overkill that he chose to live not less than two hundred miles from anybody but humans.

  Why now?

  He groaned. Why after almost twenty years of being free of them? Twenty years of pretending to be human and not thinking about the day his world changed for the worst.

  He walked into the bathroom and stripped off the T-shirt he had worn to bed. The material clung to his damp skin, and he pealed it away and threw it on the floor. At the same time, he flexed the muscles in his back, the ones responsible for controlling his wings.

  With a subtle yet familiar sound, they slid out. Cracking bone and achy unused muscles produced his wings. They hung long, touching the floor, spiny leathery appendages that were just as easily manipulated as his arms. Well, one was. The other…

  He stared at the ugly wing. Just looking at it offended him and tore him apart inside. He could no longer fly, and he missed it with everything he had. While it had been almost two decades, he recalled the sensation like it was yesterday. The wind on his face and beneath his wings, the freedom, the ecstasy, flying was what he and his kind were born to do.

  Now and forever he was broken.

  Dragon shifters were supposed to be healers, full of magic and mystery. Not him. Not now.

  A scent he recognized alerted him to his visitor just before he heard the key in the lock and the doorknob turn. His stomach dropped. Not only didn’t he close his bedroom door, he left the bathroom door open as well. If he didn’t get his wings hidden quickly, she would see. The last thing he needed was for her to see and panic—or worse to draw back in disgust.

  He bit off a sound of agony as he tucked his wings away and shut his eyes as he leaned over the sink. Moisture beaded his top lip, and he sighed. Her soft steps on the carpet let him know she didn’t think twice about entering his place unannounced.

  Everything about her seemed amplified at that moment—her scent, the sound of her breathing, even her heartbeat drummed in his ears. He tried mentally to drive it all away and failed.

  “Good mor
ning,” she said. “You look great. Been drinking?”

  “Unfortunately, no.” He dared to peek at her. Dressed in hip-hugging slacks and a delicate blouse that accentuated her breasts, she looked beautiful as usual, desirable. The word mate ran through his mind. He swore at it.

  “Wow, still in a mood. I guess you’re mad at me for daring to ask about the connection between you and Patrick.”

  “That wasn’t toward you.” He couldn’t explain the language.

  “Who are you cussing at then because I’m the only one here. You know what? Never mind. I came because I’m not letting you push me away, Declan. We haven’t shared so much of our lives just to throw it away in one day.”

  “I apologize for how I spoke to you.” He couldn’t believe she’d come and that she wanted to stay friends. The flood of relief was unreal, especially since he didn’t deserve her.

  “I’ve said worse to you in my time.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  He laughed. “Maybe not that bad. I’ve always been willing to share—too much, I guess.”

  “It’s never too much.” He turned around and leaned against the sink. Her gaze slid down from his face to his chest, and he noted the interest there. She liked what she saw. He’d known since the beginning she was attracted to him, but he had never let it go any further. If he were someone different, sure. She deserved better.

  She studied his form a bit longer and then spun away, calling over her shoulder, “Good because I’m here to give you fair warning.”

  “Warning?” Alarm bells went off in his head. Janessa was a stubborn woman and very confident. She took every challenge head-on. “What are you planning, Nessa?”

  “Oh nothing much.”

  She strolled down the hall into the living room, and he followed, feeling like a disobedient little boy. Janessa always knew how to get the upper hand with him. He could be stubborn and secretive, but she had a skillset of her own to be reckoned with.

  In the fridge, she found eggs and bacon plus a few slices of bread. With easy familiarity, she began cooking him breakfast. With the last of the coffee beans ground, which she had brought over to the apartment some time ago, she made coffee for the two of them in the French Press. He watched her expert hand movements as she performed what she called the “wibble” to make the most delicious brew.

  “I’m going to conduct my own investigation,” she announced.

  His gut clenched. “Into?”

  “You. I looked your hometown up when you mentioned it before, but there wasn’t anything to go on. It’s like the place didn’t exist, except this weird story. I’m going to assume that ‘story’ is the real deal.”

  “Janessa.”

  “And since we aren’t busy, I’m going to contact the writer of that particular article on your hometown. If he agrees, I’ll visit him to talk about it. After I’m done with him, I’m going to start looking into Patrick a little more. There’s a connection there, and all I have to do is find it. Maybe he won’t talk to me, but someone he knows will.”

  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into!”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Oh, you’re panicking. That’s good. It means I’m on the right track. Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask you to tell me a thing. Just sit back and do what you always do, Declan. I’ll handle it.”

  “Be reasonable, Nessa.” He struggled to find words to convince her. “You don’t understand who you’re dealing with. Patrick won’t take it kindly that you’re trying to gather information about him.”

  “I’m not trying to gather information about him. But even if I was, so what? He has a public profile. It’s how I found out he would most likely be able to cover our bill. Plus, he paid us for our time just like he said he would. I haven’t given him his money’s worth. So, if I have to pretend I’m looking into his future son-in-law, it’s all good. He has nothing to be angry about.”

  “Why can’t you understand?” he growled.

  “Because you won’t explain it.” She shrugged. “Here’s your breakfast. Like I said, I just came to warn you. Don’t miss me while I’m gone, K?”

  She set a plate on the table that he had no intention of eating and left the kitchen. Everything inside him said to go after her and force her to see sense, but he couldn’t do that. For one, he had no desire to manhandle her. For another, it would backfire. All he could do was hope wherever his people were now, they were hidden and the past was buried so deep no human would ever learn the truth.

  Chapter 7

  Janessa pulled into the lot and hesitated. She didn’t like the dilapidated appearance of the bar or the fact that the lot was jam-packed. She’d had to drive around for a good twenty minutes to find an open spot to park.

  Now that she was there, she felt like chickening out and returning to her hotel room. Before she could make a decision, her phone dinged. She checked the display and laughed.

  “Don’t be chicken. Get out.”

  She rolled her eyes. Where was he? A redheaded guy about her height but with a great build waved at her from the opposite side of the lot. She had no choice but to join him.

  “You read my mind, huh?”

  Skip Hunter grinned and leaned in to hug her. She couldn’t help noticing the warmth from his body. It was so different from Declan’s. Then she scratched that thought. This was not the time to think about her friend.

  “You’re still asking yourself if I’m crazy,” Skip said. “‘Shape shifters in real life? Yeah, right. This guy must be out of his head.’”

  “I wasn’t,” she lied. “But you got me this far. The article you wrote and those links to websites you sent me—I want to dig deeper.”

  “I’ve had my eye on Patrick for about six months. What I don’t get is why he sent someone to watch your place.” He squinted his eyes at her. “You’re human, aren’t you?”

  “You’re not serious.” She joked to try to get his mind off her and why Patrick would be interested in her. The last thing she wanted was for Skip to focus on Declan. Not that she fully believed Skip’s nut ball story about a race of people who weren’t human. To believe that mess, she would have to think the man she knew as her best friend—the man she loved—wasn’t human. That was too creepy and weird.

  “Only half serious.”

  She looked at the bar. “So you think residents of the original town live in this area and that many of them frequent this bar?”

  “Yeah, and I’m fairly sure the man you saw outside your apartment a few times was hired by Patrick. If it’s the man I think it is, he’s been working for Patrick for years. He hangs out at this bar. I think we can shake him down and get him to tell us something.”

  Janessa snorted at Skip’s expression. He watched too much TV. “Okay, let’s do it.”

  They walked into the bar. She had her doubts about Skip and the facts he believed about the shape shifters, but when most of the heads turned in their direction as soon as they crossed the threshold into the bar, she had to wonder.

  Skip claimed shifters had incredible hearing, sight, and sense of smell. They could immediately identify if a person was a shifter like them or if they were human. Janessa’s mind insisted on going back to the various times Declan demonstrated these characteristics.

  Nervous, she moved nearer to Skip and took his arm. Music blared from speakers in spots along the ceiling. Glasses clinked, voices rose in laughter or argument. Every table was occupied, and some people stood along the walls chatting. A couple danced in a tiny spot in the middle of the floor, and every stool at the bar was taken.

  “This place is packed,” she whispered to Skip. “Do you see him?”

  “Be cool.”

  She followed him to the bar, and he ordered them each a beer. When they had their drinks, they searched for a spot to camp out. The bar was elbow to elbow with people. If their target was there, he’d be hard to spot.

  Many of the men in the bar were tall like Declan and good looking. One of them wearing a
cowboy hat, a plaid shirt, and faded jeans approached her. “Like to dance?”

  She looked around. “Not much room in here, don’t you think?”

  He grinned. “Better to get to know each other.”

  Skip thrust in front of her. “Get lost.”

  “Whoa, Skip.” She held up a hand. “I don’t need you to defend me. I’m fine.”

  “But—”

  There was something about the man that made her want to talk to him. She accepted his offer and squeezed through the crowd to a spot nearer the dancing couple, and she moved to the beat. The cowboy did the same, if awkwardly.

  “You’re beautiful,” he gushed. “I haven’t seen you in here before.”

  “I’m just visiting the area. You?”

  They raised their voices to be heard above the music. All the while, she tried to pinpoint what it was that was so familiar about this man. Why did she feel like she knew him? He certainly wasn’t the guy both she and her sister had now seen outside her place. What was it?

  Then it hit her. The eyes. This man had silver eyes just like Declan’s—and just like Patrick’s. Good grief, were they all related? That was a silly thought but a weird coincidence.

  “You know…” She cast her voice very low on purpose. Her dance partner would have to climb inside her mouth to hear her words. “My friend thinks there’s such a thing as shape shifters, people who aren’t human and can take on another form.”

  The cowboy stopped dancing. He paled, but maybe that was her imagination what with the low lighting. Next to him, the dancing woman turned to look Janessa dead in her face. Janessa should have kept her big mouth shut.

  “T-that’s ridiculous,” Cowboy stuttered.

  “Is it?” She tried to look fearless, but nerves ate up her belly.

  Several pairs of eyes swiveled toward them, and her dance partner seemed to pick up on the animosity from the others in the bar. While he’d intended to play off her comment, his fellow bar patrons weren’t so nice.