Missing (Shifters Unlimited: Clan Black Book 2)

by KH LeMoyne

  “The ferals were humans?”

  “Perhaps. Though Deacon will need someone far beyond my degrees to pick apart the procedure and develop a cure.”

  Lena’s saliva turned to dust in her mouth as she examined her own blood image. However, Doc’s assessment didn’t explain her image either. Larger cells engulfed the feral cells. “So can you tell me what happened with my sample.”

  “Deacon is what happened with your sample,” Doc said as if that should make total sense. “Shifter biology with regards to antibodies and cells is different than with humans, but we are not incompatible. I’ll spare you the drawn-out details.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at the image. Nope, the image didn’t make sense.

  Doc tapped the large cells holding the feral cells. “These are Deacon’s, not yours. His antibodies reproduce and contain the feral cells and their properties. Even if the feral cells maintain a growth rate in your body, they will succumb to the alpha’s ability to filter them in your bloodstream. Eventually, they’ll be gone.”

  “And Deacon’s cells?”

  “Shifter cells have elastic memory, retaining both human and animal characteristics.”

  He hadn’t answered her question, and she raised a brow.

  With a small smile, he held his hand open and shrugged. “You’ll always retain some trace of Deacon within you. But you will always be human.”

  Lena’s stomach flipped as the repercussions of the attack and her risk for changing into one of the mutated beings became all too clear. She swallowed against the lightheadedness and shivered.

  “Luckily, there’s no risk of passing the feral cells on to a shifter embryo.”

  “A baby?” That did it. Things were getting out of control. She stood up and wrapped her arms around herself, fingernails digging into her skin for a bite of pain to stop the room from spinning. “No. Not a possibility.” She glanced up. “I mean—”

  Doc’s hand at her elbow guided her back to sit on the exam table. “Perhaps I should have presented the topic more gently. Given your relationship with Deacon and your success in bringing Shanae home, I tend to forget you’re human and might need time to adjust.”

  “I’m fine with honesty. It’s all a bit much to wrap my head around.” She balled her hands on her thighs, trying to sort out the implications. “If Deacon’s so potent, he could cure cancer…or something. Right?”

  Doc shook his head, his brow furrowed. “The effect only works on you,” he said softly. He patted her knee. “There’s no need for you to be concerned. I’ll be vigilant and check you again in a few weeks or sooner if you experience any problems.”

  “I won’t be here after this week.”

  He paused and his green eyes widened. “Why ever not?”

  “I’m only here for a job. It’s almost wrapped up.”

  “I see.” He quickly turned away, hiding his face as he put her samples in a small fridge beneath the counter. “Well, I also work out of a hospital outside of Black Haven, if you need help. I’d still feel safer if you checked in after a few weeks so I can be certain.”

  “You don’t live here?”

  “On the grounds of the stronghold?” He closed down the applications on the wall monitor. “No. I commute back and forth. My family lives close. I head back in another day or so.”

  He didn’t offer any more, and she didn’t ask. Gathering statistics on every shifter she met, finding out how they lived undetected and which of them had human contacts and spouses, seemed intrusive. Even if it was the most pressing thing on her mind right now. Not that she intended to fit in. She’d never fit in. But one never knew when she might run across another shifter. Or how her sensitivity to their existence might come in handy.

  He turned back with a brow raised and a bottle of pills in his hand. “No pain either, I assume.”

  She bit her lip to stop the smile. No pain since Deacon had treated her to unlimited sexual healing. That wasn’t a conversation she was having in this hospital, even with a nice shifter doctor. However, with the memory, a steady heat rose along her neck.

  “I see. Well, good.” With a chuckle and a renewed joviality, Doc put the bottle aside. “I’ll prescribe an antibiotic for you to take, just in case your blood work shows something new in several hours. I’ll check it again, though I don’t anticipate any change.”

  He ripped the top sheet from the pad in his hand and handed it to her. “I’ve put my cell phone number on there as well. If you experience anything unusual, don’t hesitate to call me.”

  “Thank you.”

  He paused as she slid from the table and headed toward the door. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Juarez. I truly hope this won’t be the last time.”

  It was Lena’s turn to frown as she closed the door behind her. It never boded well when a doctor wanted to see you come back, but his intentions were kind. Her relationship with Deacon explained his interest—along with the interest of every shifter within a fifty-mile radius.

  Pressure tightened in her throat, forming a knot that was hard to swallow past. Mate. Only in her dreams. Her mission was almost over. After attending the meeting to see Matthew, with Shanae and Trevor safely ensconced in their new lives, she’d head back to…well, somewhere new. Life as usual.

  Or not. She shivered again at the thought of foreign bodies lodged inside her. Yes, she was holding steady with Deacon’s help. Unlike those misshapen creatures in the forest. The odd sensation of a pull toward the perimeter of Black Haven made more sense now. She rubbed her collarbone, the touch not easing the faint prickle there.

  Food, sleep, and then she’d come up with a plan. All she could handle for the next few hours.

  As she pushed her way through the hospital’s front door, her spirits lightened. Breslin remained face forward in the driver’s seat of the SUV, evidently on constant surveillance. Yet when she reached the passenger door, it clicked open. She climbed in. “You stuck with escort duty again?”

  A white paper bag dropped into her lap, the chill from the pints of ice cream numbing her legs as she fastened her seat belt.

  “My orders were to make sure you have whatever you need before taking you back to the boardinghouse to rest.”

  “I don’t need protection.”

  “We protect Deacon too.” Breslin turned toward her with a predatory grin. “So it only makes sense his team will protect what is most important to him.”

  Right. More people assuming she was Deacon’s mate. Questions flooded her mind, but this wasn’t the right person to ask. Lena looked away and held tight to the ice cream.

  Tomorrow. That would be soon enough to look at this with a clear head and fresh perspective.

  Deacon stuffed the financial reports on new business recommendations from his Los Angeles lieutenant into a folder and added it to the growing pile on his conference table.

  Eyeing the piles, Grizz slid quietly into a seat at his right. “You know, you really should hire someone to organize that for you.”

  “So I’ve been told. You have free time,” Deacon added with a hint of venom in his voice.

  Hands up, Grizz shrugged. “No more commentary from me. Though, I’d like to know your take on how Stromer was alive with shifter abilities on the mountain? We left him for dead before you ever came home to claim your position.”

  “Someone evidently retrieved his body and worked some black magic.”

  “Magic. That’s your answer?”

  “No.” Deacon slung another file on the table and shook his head. “Unfortunately, whoever meddled with Trevor’s DNA seems to have started a long time ago with humans.”

  “And kept it hidden.”

  The part of the puzzle that worried Deacon the most. At least Grizz had been around when Stromer supposedly died decades ago. Not that he needed confirmation that he hadn’t been hallucinating. “He wasn’t any more of a shifter than the ferals that attacked Lena. But I’ll admit, he was no longer human.”

&n
bsp; “He’s dead this time. I made sure his body parts can’t ever be reassembled.”

  Deacon appreciated the support, but somehow Grizz’s words gave him no comfort.

  Trim joined them, sitting farther down the table and away from both Grizz and the piles. She glanced at the empty seats. “Wharton?”

  “On an assignment. He’s calling with an update in a few minutes.”

  With a shrug, she folded into her seat. “You sent him to handle the lieutenant’s request?”

  “Yes.”

  She gave him a strange look at his lack of follow-up details but silently interlocked her fingers on the table as Breslin entered and took the seat beside Grizz. Then the faint tapping of a foot on the soft carpet echoed from beneath the table.

  Deacon looked his way, waiting for an update he couldn’t bring himself to voice. He should have been the one to accompany Lena after her visit with Doc. But between messages, business requests, and a full e-mail inbox he couldn’t allow himself the temptation. Leaving her side was inevitable given his responsibilities, and sleeping at her side would have destroyed his determination to give her space. Allowing himself to bond further with his mate without claiming her could have unpredictable consequences—none of them good for her. Not that he could really see himself sticking to that decision.

  “Doc cleared your PI. I bribed her to eat, and from the soft snores I heard from outside her room a few minutes ago, she’s now asleep,” Breslin said.

  “You don’t know she’s asleep, though,” Grizz said as he shifted, his bulk grinding the joints of his chair. “She’s clever. Probably crawled over the balcony after you left.”

  Breslin scowled and then glanced around the table. “I didn’t look in her room, but if she wants to leave, she need only ask. Besides, only a shifter would have enough energy to crawl away after everything she’s been through.” He stared at Deacon. “She was pretty much walking on autopilot when I took her to Doc anyway.”

  “She gave Matthew her word to remain until Shanae has made her decision.” Every noise in the room stopped. Deacon ignored the glances he could feel directed his way. “We all have particularly good hearing. I’m no exception. Speaking of Shanae…” He passed the top folder on his pile toward Trim. “I want you to speak with her tomorrow and let her know we have options for housing she might want to consider.”

  Trim frowned but accepted the folder. “What if the human husband decides to stay?”

  Deacon withheld a sigh. It would take more than his efforts to get Trim past the issues with her friend, but they both needed to expend some energy to repair the relationship. “I imagine he will. He’s gone to a great deal of effort for his family, and because he has we need to support their choices.” Done with the subject, he glanced at Breslin. “I reviewed the list of missing children you’ve compiled. Is there anything new?”

  “Most of these reports originate along our borders. Fortunately, many of the children have been located,” Breslin said. “I’ve narrowed it down to a smaller list of three still missing whose circumstances look suspicious.”

  Trim tapped a finger on the table. “From the original list, I can weed out one who ran away with her boyfriend. Two who became lost after dark and have since been located. I’ve also circulated a watch list to your lieutenants on the others, but we think they’ll be found.”

  “We might need a follow-up in person.” Deacon scrolled down Trim’s list of missing children. “I’d like to extend our search back several years.”

  She nodded as his phone rang. He swiped a thumb across the phone, activating the call, and placed it in the center of the table. “The team is here, Wharton. Go ahead with your update.”

  “According to Marsh, Hansen Sanders approached him after Hansen returned from his army tour in Afghanistan. Hansen’s father had passed away, and, sifting through his paperwork, Hansen found a reference to his brother’s death during a wildfire outbreak during a training mission.”

  Breslin grunted but said nothing.

  “Up until that point, Hansen had been led to believe his stepbrother, Grant, had died while on duty. The paperwork, and more that Hansen found, indicated that Grant shared a direct superior with Hansen’s older twin stepsisters. They had also died on the job. By the way—I tracked down one link to Sanders’s first wife, the mother to all of Hansen’s siblings.”

  “And?” Deacon urged.

  “It was buried deep in Marsh’s musty files. One page with her name and date of marriage, and a line drawn through as if she’d never existed.”

  “Wharton, her name.”

  “Her married name was Suzannah Morgan. Evidently, Sanders senior changed his last name and that of his children. The girls refused and kept their original name.”

  “Have you and Hansen determined why his father changed the family name.” Deacon stared at the phone, refusing to make eye contact with any of his team.

  “I have a fairly good suspicion, which I’m hoping the medical examiner can confirm.”

  The light screech of Grizz’s chair filled the silence. Then Breslin let out a long breath and leaned back in his chair, distancing himself from the conversation.

  “Why doesn’t matter.” Trim, now invested in eliminating potential killers, leaned closer to the phone as she cast a sharp gaze at Deacon. “The name of the supervisor, Wharton?”

  There was silence for a moment, then Wharton proceeded. “Deacon?”

  “All three reported to Lena Juarez,” Deacon said, unblinking. Breslin closed his eyes, then stared at the ceiling with his hands linked behind his head. Grizz shook his head with a menacing hum and cracked his neck and glanced toward the window.

  A quick flicker in Trim’s eyes confirmed she took in both reactions. She was halfway out of her chair, leaning toward Deacon with a frosty expression. “So the female tracking Shanae and Trevor is the individual accused of murdering three shifters?”

  Breslin sat up with a jerk as Grizz’s hum turned to a growl.

  “Trim,” Wharton interjected. “It’s not what—”

  Deacon scooped the phone into his palm. “No need to go into more detail. You meet with the medical examiner on Grant’s case tomorrow, yes?”

  “Yep. Turns out he also handled the workup on the Sanders twins. If he had accusations, he withheld them as well as Sanders senior.”

  “Hansen giving you any trouble?” Deacon asked, eyeing Trim. She sank to her seat, her lips thin and tight as she crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him.

  “Not so far. Tomorrow will tell.” There was a long pause. “Still think Breslin would have been better for this one, boss.”

  Breslin looked toward the door, silently refuting Wharton’s claim.

  “I picked the right person for closure.”

  “Not everyone wants closure,” Wharton added, his voice subdued before he disconnected.

  Deacon tossed the phone onto his pile of files with enough force it bounced and plummeted to the floor. Then he gripped the table. “Breslin, I want you to canvass your pharmaceutical contacts. See if there’s even a peep about shifter research. Feel free to check with Alarico’s people. Until the meeting at the end of the week, I want the priority on keeping Shanae and her family safe. As well as Miss Juarez.”

  He made a point of staring down Trim’s brittle expression.

  “Got it.” Breslin released a slow breath with a curt nod, then rose. With a side-glance toward Trim, he headed for the door. “I’ll make sure the ferals stalking your borders won’t get even a whiff of any of them.”

  Trim frowned at Breslin’s retreating back for a second.

  “Trim, I want you to get with the parents of the children who are still missing and see if they’ll talk to you after Friday’s meeting for any missing details. In the meantime, we’re going to need Doc’s findings on Trevor’s blood work.”

  Pushing back her chair with more force than necessary, Trim stood, her fists balled on the tabletop, and nodded. For a second, he thought she
might confront him, but she shook her head and turned. Pausing at the door, she glanced back. “Is there a reason you didn’t trust me with Marsh’s information?”

  “Yes.” At her shocked expression, he continued, “The investigation requires distance and objectivity. You’re my second, so you’re too close to me to review this case, even if you weren’t biased.”

  “So certain I’d be biased against Juarez?” she asked with a raised brow and curled lip.

  He didn’t even need to respond, given her earlier eruption. Whatever points Lena had won with Trim by saving Trevor and Shanae had been lost during Wharton’s call. To be expected. Loyalty to shifters first was her strong suit. “As much as I’m biased on her behalf, neither matters. This situation isn’t as it appears, and it’s important neither of us interferes with Wharton’s and Hansen’s findings.”

  “Yet you sent the interminable peacemaker to be the fair, unbiased judge. That won’t cause any questions at all, will it?”

  When he didn’t answer, she slammed the door behind her.

  “Want me to stoke the fire to thaw the frostbite in the room?” Grizz asked as he stood from his chair and made his way to the leather armchair before the flames. “Did you really need to be so hard on her?”

  “I’m not aware I’ve made a habit of explaining my decisions in the past.”

  Grizz tilted his head and shrugged. “Fine. Yet you’re even avoiding your PI. Seems pointless to waste the time you have. At least tell me you aren’t going to sit in your office, buried in work.”

  “It isn’t my rule. There is a legitimate reason alphas aren’t allowed to claim their mates. A reason everyone understands.”

  “Yeah, everyone still remembers the bluebeard stories of shifters tempting their mates and then draining them of their lives and energy. We’re worse than vampires and those villains died years ago. Not to mention that most of that rumor is bullshit.”

  “Not with regard to Gauthier Karndottir,” Deacon added with a grimace.

  Grizz frowned. “So little gets in or out of the borders of his territory, it’s hard to know what is fact or fiction.”