Carpe Demon (Carus #3)

by J. C. McKenzie

  “First off, I don’t view them as competition. I view the VPD as an agency of equal standing from the norm side of the law. I think we should work together more often and pool resources.”

  “That would put a lot of people out of jobs.”

  “I disagree. As long as assholes continue to exist, there’ll be work for us.”

  Tucker blinked. “Sharing resources and aiding them in an active investigation without approval is not only a COI, but against our regulations and policy. Information that protects the best interests of supernaturals should remain private.”

  Somehow Tucker hadn’t learned repeating things like a parrot didn’t make them any more true.

  “Well, if a supe breaks the law, I see no reason to continue protecting them. But that aside, as I am no longer an agent, I’m no longer bound by the SRD’s rules and regulations. I’m an ambassador between the SRD and Lucien’s court. COI’s don’t apply to me. I’m a contractor.”

  “Your contract and ambassadorship can be revoked if you don’t fulfill your duties, you abuse the position, or your integrity has been compromised. It’s made very clear under article 15.3a of the SRD’s Code of Ethics. I can have a copy sent to you, if you’d like.”

  “Sure. Please send it along with the code of ethics that defines abuse of power, particularly the section pertaining to supervisors in the SRD.”

  If looks could kill, I would’ve died instantaneously from Tucker’s glare. “Your file’s been cleaned. Know anything about that?”

  It took me a moment to process Tucker’s words. Thank you, Agent Booth! She must’ve removed some information before she left. So I hadn’t imagined it, the file did look considerably thinner than last time.

  Tucker cleared his throat.

  “News to me. Shouldn’t it all be electronic nowadays anyway?”

  “Can’t trust technology.”

  “It appears you can’t trust your filing system either.”

  Tucker pursed his lips. “So you know nothing of this?”

  “Nope.”

  “How convenient.” He didn’t look like he believed me, but I didn’t care. I glanced at the clock on the wall. Despite Tucker’s demands, I’d taken my time walking here and only fifteen more minutes remained in the work day. Tucker struck me as the type to sign out right on time. No need to put in the extra effort. He’d get the promotion anyway.

  “Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?”

  My mountain lion hissed. Claw his face off.

  Tucker pursed his lips. His fingertips turned white as he clutched his pen. He glanced at the clock. “No. That’s all for now.”

  Part of me wanted to comment on how he’d wasted my time, calling me in for such trivial questions, but the other part wanted the hell out of his office before I actually did something to jeopardize my position with the SRD.

  Fly, my falcon squawked at me. Be free with the wind.

  “Then have a great day,” I said, wearing my best fake smile.

  “You, too,” Tucker replied. He didn’t bother smiling, nor did he bother trying to add false sunshine in his voice. No, he spoke with evident hatred, and his eyes told me he wished the exact opposite of what he said.

  Right back at you.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.”

  ~Gloria Steinem

  With my head nicely rested on an extra soft pillow, I lay on the couch in my living room and flicked through the channels in a pathetic attempt to distract my errant brain. Every time I thought of ways to introduce Bola to my fists, knees and elbows, nausea boiled in my gut and chest. In order to take the Demon out, I’d have to get close to him, and the very thought… My stomach churned again.

  I thought I’d faced my past, and aside from a couple flashbacks, conquered it. Apparently not. Opening myself to the possibility of love and stronger friendships must’ve opened the floodgates to other feelings as well. With my knees drawn to my chest, I wrapped myself in the fetal position.

  I didn’t need to confront Bola. Yeah, he was on a killing spree and a lot of good, innocent people were dying, but it wasn’t my job to save the world, right? The bigger, badder supes in the area, or heck, even the authorities, could handle it, right? I could just sit this one out…right?

  I took a deep breath.

  Maybe I looked at this the wrong way. These resurging feelings of fear needed to be converted into something useful. Every time Bola entered my mind, I reverted to my old self, the one from over five decades ago who stayed with a psychopath and became weak, abused, and scared. I needed to confront my past, and this time, vanquish it.

  Weak? Fearful? Not me. Not anymore.

  A switch inside me flipped. The fear rolling through my veins in waves dissipated, soon replaced with something much warmer and deadlier. With a shake of my head, I clenched my fists. I should track down this piece-of-shit Demon and gut him repeatedly for what he did to me. Not roll up in a ball and tuck my head.

  The beast stirred.

  Revenge. Her growl vibrated my whole body making me sit up.

  Hunt, my mountain lion hissed.

  Kill, my wolf growled.

  Devour, my falcon screeched.

  Red yipped and jumped on the couch to snuggle into my stomach.

  Well, at least my feras were on board for some retribution.

  One of my favourite songs blasted from my pocket. I dug my phone out and accepted the call, knowing the caller by the personalized ringtone.

  “Mel? What’s up?” I spoke into the phone.

  “Something’s not right,” she whispered. The phone line crackled, and I missed what she said next.

  “What? You’re breaking up.” My thoughts of revenge fled, and my senses tingled, now hyper-alert.

  “Something’s…no…ight…t…ack. F…ting. Get…er he…ow.” Her voice clipped off, and the dial tone rattled my ear.

  The blanks didn’t matter. I needed to get to the pack house right away. I jumped off the couch, threw open the window and shifted into a falcon. As my clothes drifted off my smaller body, I took to the night in a seamless transition. Only when I was aloft in the air did I realize I’d have to deal with whatever I found at Wick’s place without any clothes.

  ****

  When I flew through the window and shifted to my human form, I tensed into a fighting crouch. Werewolves everywhere. Some still in human form with blazing yellow eyes, some half-shifted and snarling, some in full wolf form growling with their hackles up. They had turned on each other, and almost every Were in the building was fighting. Ripped clothes and overturned furniture littered the floor.

  Looking more like a Spring Break episode on ‘roids than a pack house, everyone had gone to the left side of coo-coo. The room filled with the smell of burnt cinnamon and foggy smoke. Sounds of growling and yipping flooded my ears. My teeth tingled and shifted into fangs; the taste of blood burst into my mouth.

  John bumped my shoulder as he and another male wrestled in human form passed me. I hissed at them without thinking. What the heck? I shook my head, and stepped back until my spine pressed against the wall.

  Blonde hair to my right snagged my attention. Mel cowered in the corner, her face creased with concern.

  I jogged around the snapping Weres, and knelt beside her. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “It’s only affecting the dominant wolves.”

  “What is?”

  “Whatever this is.” She waved her hand at the chaos.

  “Is anyone hurt?”

  “No, but I think Steve and Ryan are working hard to change that.” She pointed across the room. Sure enough, Steve and Ryan rolled around on the floor, with red, strained faces, clutching each other’s necks.

  “I can’t get them to stop,” Mel said.

  “Where’s Wick?”

  “He left before it started.” She turned away.

  Huh? What did Mel avoid telling me? “Where did he—oh screw it, I’ll f
ix this first.” I stomped over to the two Weres, one who despised me and the other who didn’t.

  I thumped Steve in the side with my foot. “Oi! Stop it.”

  They kept rolling and ignored me. The lycanthropic virus made Weres stronger than Shifters, so I couldn’t use physical means to pry them apart. Not unless I shifted to the beast, but that seemed a bit…excessive. I watched as they continued to squeeze.

  Ryan’s normally freckled pale face turned a darker shade of red. Steve snarled something unintelligible. His café-au-lait skin looked severely burned, and his gem-green eyes bugged out of his face. Maybe if I poured something on them?

  The front door slammed shut. “What the hell is going on?” Wick boomed.

  Everyone went limp. At least, everyone within my field of vision. Steve and Ryan sagged to the floor, and rolled away from each other. They got slowly to their feet and cast confused, yet wary glances at each other. My skin prickled.

  “Well?” Wick demanded.

  Ryan scratched his head. When he caught me looking, he scowled and dropped his hand. Well, I deserved that. I had used my “feminine wiles” on him to escape the Were house back in the good ol’ days when Wick held me captive for Lucien. I’d sprayed dog repellant in Ryan’s face, to buy enough time to shift into a falcon and fly away.

  He hated me.

  Understandably.

  Wick growled, and his espresso irises flashed yellow. The power of his dominant Alpha wolf steamrolled through the room, making me want to crawl on the floor and grovel.

  Not happening.

  The Weres in the room dropped to their knees, and bowed their heads. I locked my knees and braced. My inner wolf mewled, wanting to flop in front of him, belly up.

  “Answer me, Ryan,” Wick repeated, this time making it a command. I’d never seen Wick use his power in such a direct, brow-beating way. Heat spread across my chest, and I squashed the urge to cross the room and rub against him. His dominance was super sexy.

  Want, my wolf growled. I shushed her, and waited for Ryan to answer. His face had drained away the flushed red. Now, his skin looked pale and pasty.

  “I’m not sure what happened. One minute we’re watching our zombie show on television, the next, Steve was in my face,” Ryan said. Sweat broke out along his nose and forehead. As Wick’s second in the pack hierarchy, he stood accountable for anything that happened in Wick’s absence.

  “How?” Wick asked. “How did he get in your face?”

  “He, uh, he started making fun of me. Telling me a real man wouldn’t have let Andy escape.”

  I flinched. Ouch. Even I knew that was a low blow. My stomach dropped. I wasn’t proud of my actions with Ryan. Despite trying to escape an unknown fate with Lucien, Ryan deserved better treatment.

  Wick’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to Steve. “Is that true?”

  Steve nodded. “Yeah, I said something like that. But only after an underwear commercial came on, and Ryan made fun of my job. Said the reason I got cut from the HOM campaign was because my junk wasn’t big enough to fill the briefs properly.”

  I grimaced. Damn! These Weres fought dirty. Plus, I’d seen Steve naked after a shift. Not true.

  Wick’s face pinched, and his mouth flattened into a thin line. “This isn’t like either of you. What happened?”

  Ryan hesitated. “I just had enough and got angry.”

  “Me, too,” Steve said.

  The others in the room joined the discussion, agreeing they felt the same.

  Unease flittered in my stomach. Did Bola have something to do with this? He’d controlled Weres in the past. Had he targeted Wick’s pack on purpose, or was he nearby causing murder and mayhem, and this just demonstrated the side effects of close proximity?

  “Is the anger still there?” Wick asked.

  “No,” Steve said.

  “It’s gone,” Ryan agreed. “It dissipated when you arrived.”

  Huh. The pack must’ve been caught up in a wave of Bola’s power, but Wick’s Alpha power dissipated the effect when he came home. What was Bola up to?

  Wick’s facial expression relaxed, but the tension in his shoulders remained. “Clean up,” he ordered. Then he turned to me, his gaze flickering quickly to take in my naked state. “Not that I dislike the visit, but how are you mixed up with this?”

  “Mel,” I said. My one word answer was enough.

  Wick nodded. “Let’s go upstairs and talk.”

  My gaze darted to Mel. She shooed me away with a wave of her hand before turning to her mate. He appeared okay. Dan looped an arm over Mel’s shoulders, and pulled her into a hug. She’d be okay, too.

  Wick let me walk up the stairs ahead of him, but for once, I didn’t suspect him of checking out my ass. Bleach with a hint of sweat filled the stairwell and eliminated any need on my part to ask Wick if he worried about what just happened. He was worried, all right, a lot.

  When we stepped into his room, Wick closed the door behind us, and turned to me. I’d planned to discuss the implications of tonight and the possible involvement of Bola. But Wick’s gaze changed from worried to predatory lust.

  He took a step toward me. Coconut and musk, heavy in the air, announced his intensions. Something niggled at my brain. Since I arrived, something rubbed against the grain, something other than the weird anger consuming all the Weres, something Mel had said…or didn’t say.

  “Where were you?” I asked.

  He stopped short, his body snapping straight as if slapped. “What?”

  “Just now. Where did you go? Mel said you went out, but she hid something from me. I could tell. She gets all pensive between the eyebrows.”

  “I drove someone home.”

  Immediate understanding slammed through my veins like ice. Only one woman in the pack would cause this avoidance and evasion by both Mel and Wick. The one shewolf bent on having Wick for herself. “Christine?” Why did I ask? The expression on his face told me the answer.

  “Yes, but—”

  I held my hand up. “It’s not what it seems, or looks like? I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”

  Wick growled. The muscles in his neck tensed as his shoulders rounded. He leaned forward. “We have. And if you gave me a minute to explain, you’d realize how unnecessary your anger is. Again.”

  I folded my arms over my chest, and forced my breathing to stay even. “Fine.”

  Wick hesitated before rocking back on his heels. “I drove her home because she turned up in wolf form and needed a lift. She’s still in my care. I have to protect her.”

  “So you drove a naked Christine home?”

  Wick shoved his hands in his pockets. “No. I gave her clothes.”

  “Why couldn’t she just run on home as a wolf?”

  Wick’s gaze remained locked with mine. “She was too injured.”

  “What? How?”

  The smell of blue cheese and alcohol filled the room. I narrowed my eyes at Wick. Shame? He kept his gaze unwavering, not able to look away because of his Alpha dominance, but hurt sliced across his face.

  My heart thumped around in my chest, and I wanted nothing more than to run to the window, wrench it open and fly away. I didn’t want to hear what Wick would say next.

  Fly, my falcon whined.

  “I banished her,” he said.

  My heart stopped.

  “I banished her,” Wick repeated. “From the pack house. I didn’t want her to sabotage any chance I have with you, so I told her she couldn’t come to the house anymore. A few of the pack join her for a separate run during the full moons, so she’s not alone. She has our protection, but otherwise she has no member status in the pack.”

  My breathing stopped. “When did this happen?”

  “Day after.” His dark brows framed large chocolate-brown eyes. Currently, his molten gaze beseeched mine for understanding.

  And he had it. My heart swelled with it.

  He didn’t need to name the event he banished Christine after. The
last full moon, I’d run over to the pack house to let him know the identity of the Supe Slayer, only to find Christine mounted on his lap, gyrating against him. He claimed to be a victim of Christine’s plotting, that she’d heard me approach and pounced on him. But his hand had been firmly clenching her right buttock. He hadn’t looked like a victim, and his actions spoke louder than words. Things had been strained and weird between me and Wick since, hot and cold.

  “So she just showed up?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And you drove her home.”

  “Yes,” he said slowly.

  “Why does the room reek of your shame?”

  “Because I ordered the women to discipline her.”

  Ah. Understanding hit me like an unexpected knee to the abdomen. Wick would rather take a punishment than see a woman harmed, but when Christine actively and blatantly disobeyed his direct order, he’d had no choice. Christine’s actions undermined his authority. If he hadn’t acted, his dominance would’ve been compromised. Every dominant Werewolf in his pack would have their internal wolves pushing for a challenge, regardless of their personal feelings. Alphas couldn’t show weakness. Even his most loyal pack members would struggle not to challenge him for control. Running a Werewolf pack was a precarious position.

  Either Wick had Christine disciplined, or more wolves would get hurt.

  I bit my lip. Of course, Wick chose the whole over the individual. That’s what made him a great Alpha. But it went against his personal beliefs. In his mind, women were for protecting, loving and cherishing.

  Why did he have to drive her home? He had a lot of other Weres in the pack he could’ve asked. I could demand an answer to that question, but I already knew what he’d say.

  He drove her home out of guilt, and his strong sense of responsibility.

  Wick stared at me, like he expected an answer.

  “I see,” I said and winced. Was that the best I could do?

  “Is that the best you can do?” Wick echoed my thoughts.

  “Well, it’s difficult to go straight from self-righteous and pissed off to understanding and sympathetic,” I said. “Give me a second.”

  Wick rocked back on his heels again put his hands on his hips. “One Mississippi, two Missi—”