A.L.F.A. Mates

by Milly Taiden

  After stepping over the threshold, she froze. One gasp was all she could take in. No words came to mind. Hamel stopped close behind her. “Holy fuck.”

  Most of the lab had been destroyed. Machines and hardware lay busted, scattered on the floor. Cabinet doors hung open with contents scooped out, joining everything else on the floor. Every file with papers or binders was ripped open and tossed, as if someone systematically rifled through them.

  The first thing that came to her mind was the defenseless little white mice. Were they here or even alive? She dashed in, pulling away from Hamel’s grip on her arm. His voice registered in her head, but not his words. Whatever he thought could wait a few minutes.

  Immediately she saw the cages on the far cabinets were there and didn’t look disturbed. Her heart began to beat again. Focusing on the beloved critters and not where she was walking, her foot caught on something and the sheets of loose paper she stood on slipped on the smooth floor. Well, shit. She was going down.

  She braced for a hard impact that didn’t come. One of her squeezed-closed eyes popped open to see why. Large but gentle hands had her around the waist, a very strong arm gliding around to lift and pull her against a hard body.

  Her heart beat so hard from the adrenaline, fear for the mice, and the dash to get to them, all she could do was lean against the hot body and listen to the soothing words in her ear. The words told her to calm down. The mice were fine and everything else could be replaced. She was safe as long as she didn’t run off and do something stupid. So much for soothing words.

  That brought her out of her fear-induced haze. And made her angry. She’d never run off and do something stupid. Who the hell said that? She fought the arms that held her tightly, but they didn’t let her go. Fine. She twisted around to push away and found herself chest to chest with Hamel.

  Her heart jumped. She wasn’t thinking he would be the masculine strength wrapped around her. The Hamel of her dream, sure. But the Oversight guy in a lab coat and pocket protector, no.

  His expression was intense on her. Fear and worry shined in his eyes. She felt the same. Who would do this to her lab? Then his hand cupped the back of her head and his thumb brushed her cheek. A rush of electric hot sensation burned through her. This was the first time his skin touched hers.

  The top button of his shirt was opened and his rustic smell filled her senses. A fire she’d never felt before lit in her stomach. She swallowed hard. Her knees gave. He scooped her up and set her on the counter. With her head spinning, she couldn’t think straight. What should they do now, besides find a sugar-soft beach and get naked?

  A light vibration tickled her arms. A low grumble hummed in her ears. What was that? Hamel’s hands holding her shoulders jerked, jarring her out of her sensual doze. She snapped her eyes to his.

  Gold surrounded his hazel irises, making them exotic, fascinating. She wanted to stare into them to discover all the secrets she knew were there. Who was Parish Hamel? And how was she able to dream of his eyes in that same color?

  CHAPTER 9

  Hamel hung on by a thread. As if last night hadn’t been hard enough for him. Now that his jaguar recognized her as his mate, it allowed for their mate bond to click. He’d been expecting to sense her deeper emotions, but he’d forgotten the ability to participate in her dream world.

  Being with her, even if it was just a dream, had woken him up with a severe hard-on and the need to touch himself while reliving the things they’d done. Damn. It took everything in him to control his need to take her the moment she’d looked at his face. Her blushing and the scent of her need made his animal insane. He knew what she was doing the moment they saw each other. She’d thought back to her dream. Hell, he’d done the same thing.

  Still, he’d controlled himself. Right now, though, he was losing his control. His mate sat on the counter, him between her knees. She breathed hard, her blood pumping through her veins, adrenaline coursing through her. Prey. All signs of prey being hunted. And occasionally, her smell tossed out scents screaming “sex” and “fucking.” Fuck, he was going to break.

  He didn’t realize he was even growling until her huge eyes met his. His jaguar would be in full force, rimming his eyes with gold. But she showed no fear. The opposite, in fact. She scented like she wanted more of him. Like in the dream. No, not yet.

  He stepped back abruptly, startling her. “Sorry, Melinda. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was in your private space again. I seem to have a habit of that.” He gave her a sheepish grin. She continued to stare at him, saying nothing. All right, then. This wasn’t awkward.

  He ran a hand over his bristly head. “We should talk with Kintu. Get security on this.”

  Melinda scooted off the counter. “Yes, of course. Let me put my purse away.” Her eyes locked onto something on the far side of the lab. He followed her line of sight to see a wall cabinet with its doors blown off. He followed her dash across the room.

  “What do you keep in here?” he asked.

  “My laptop and other expensive stuff not bolted down.” She seemed to take stock. “Only my laptop is missing. Oh, damn. This is so not good.” She reached in, but he grabbed her arm.

  “Don’t touch anything. We need to get a forensics team in to dust for prints and search for possible DNA residue. I’ll get the mice cleared first so you can take them elsewhere for the day. We’ll pull security footage to see what happened.” For the first time all week, he felt in control of the situation. What a great feeling. He hated feeling like an idiot. “Anything else missing? Look carefully.”

  Her eyes methodically swept the room, occasionally moving to different spots to look on the floor. When she reached the refrigerator, her face paled. The lock on it had been pried open. “I need to open it,” she said.

  He took a pen from his pocket and wedged it along the lower side of the door and levered it open. After a second, she said, “That’s strange. Only my tea is gone.”

  “Your tea?”

  “Yeah, there was still a lot in the beaker, so I put it in here for today. They didn’t touch any of the experiments or serums.”

  Then it dawned on him. “Your tea was in the beaker with the ESP label partially scratched off.”

  “So? Other stuff in here has labels. In fact, the only thing without a label is the ESP serum.” Then he saw it click in her head. “They were after the virus?”

  “That’s my conclusion, for the time being. We need to talk to Kintu.” He took her hand and led her through the obstacle course to the back hall entrance. They came across the senior PRO leaving another lab. “Kintu.” The man turned. “We have a security breach in Miss Caster’s lab.”

  The senior’s face looked puzzled. Melinda said, “Someone has broken into my lab and stolen my laptop and what they think is the unknown virus serum.” Kintu’s expression changed to one of alarm, then determination.

  “Let’s go to my office.” Hamel and Melinda followed Kintu down a series of halls to a corner office. He noticed that Melinda hadn’t tried to take her hand from his. Maybe this relationship thing wouldn’t be so hard after all. He stopped himself from going further with that train of thought with the image of his uncle lying in a grocery store’s dessert display, cake and pie on his face.

  They took the seats in front of the senior PRO’s desk and watched patiently as he made phone call after phone call. After a few minutes, he put the phone on speaker and turned his twenty-four-inch monitor toward them.

  A male voice spoke through the phone speaker. “Here’s footage from camera four on the south side of the lab’s building.” They watched the video fast-forward from daylight to nighttime. Cars zipped in and out of the front parking lot.

  Then after what seemed like nothing for a long time, Hamel said, “Stop. Back up.” The screen showed rewinding, then playing in real time. A shadow slithered down the side of the building from the roof, opposite side fro
m the guard shack.

  “Let me see if we can zoom in some.” The man on the phone issued instructions to someone and the image stopped and reconfigured. When in focus, the screen clearly showed a person on a rope extending down the side of the building.

  The way the person moved with confident, sure movements told him whoever this was had done this kind of thing before. He watched as the person attached suction cups with handles to the window and cut a large section of glass from the middle. He then pushed forward, easily entering the lab. A few minutes later, the camera showed him leaving with a backpack.

  “My laptop and tea are probably in there. Jerk.”

  Kintu turned to her. “Your tea?”

  She sighed. “Long story. But my tea was labeled as the virus.”

  “What time was this last night?” Hamel asked.

  The man on the phone pointed out the numbers running across the bottom of the footage. The time was the first numbers: 22:30. About five hours after most employees left yesterday.

  How did this happen in such a facility? Guards were stationed at the gate up front. Security cameras were posted around the perimeter. He’d memorized every route the security patrol took every hour. There were guards in each building after hours.

  He scrubbed hands through his hair, frustration setting in. What could’ve happened if his mate had been in the lab during that time? Would she have been killed? A pain like he had never experienced cut him—worse than being shot, worse than the six-inch bowie knife, worse than when he smashed his pinky toe against a chair leg. And fuck, that hurt.

  No. Losing his mate was not an option. He’d carry her to the airport if it came down to it. He leaned toward the phone. “What about the camera in lab two? Can you bring up its recording?”

  “We’ve been working on it,” the phone voice said, “but it seems the cameras to this building were offline at that time. No data recorded.”

  Fuckity fuck fuck. That meant they were dealing with some damn serious enemies.

  “Mr. Kintu, sir”—a different, more commanding voice was on the phone—“do you want this reported to the local authorities?”

  “Good god, no, Captain. We’d have a circus on our hands. Order your men to keep this under wraps. If the outside world gets a whiff of this, the media will descend like a pack of sharks.”

  “Yes, sir,” the captain said.

  Hamel asked, “I don’t suppose you have an in-house CSI team?”

  Kintu laughed. “We have all the equipment you could possibly want, but no street team.”

  “Ironic, isn’t it?” Hamel smiled. He glimpsed at Melinda’s dazed face. Poor thing was probably overloaded with what the hell was going on. If he wasn’t careful, he’d blow his cover with her. Fortunately, Kintu knew who he was, but it stopped there. “Mr. Kintu, I don’t think Melinda here is too interested in what happens next. I think she just wants to get back to work in a different lab.” He gave Kintu a look that said Go along with this.

  The senior PRO swiveled his chair around like he’d forgotten she was there. “I’m so sorry, Melinda. Of course, you should get back to work. Don’t let us stop your experiments.”

  Hamel stood, taking Mel’s hand again. “If you’ll give me a few minutes, we’ll get her set up and then we can talk about the boring stuff.” He flashed a wide smile at her, trying to play off any suspicions she may have. When she smiled back, he hoped he’d gotten away with it.

  CHAPTER 10

  He walked them to the back door of her lab. He needed to keep her from touching anything until he could get a forensics team in here. Once he made a couple calls, it wouldn’t take long. Until then, he had this under control.

  He asked, “Are you just playing with the mice today?”

  She jerked her hand away. So much for having this under control. “What do you mean playing with the mice?” She crossed her arms over her chest. Oh, shit. His aunt did that after his uncle said something stupid. He put his hands up in supplication. Too late.

  “I’ll have you know, my playing has saved millions of lives. Maybe even the life of someone you care about, if that’s possible.”

  He raised a brow and looked at her. “What does that mean? Do you think I’m incapable of caring?”

  She huffed. “I don’t know. Are you, Dr. Oversight? Everyone I’ve met like you is like you.” She paused at what she just said. “You know what I mean.”

  He realized his mate was even hotter when riled. This could be fun. But not now. He needed to stay focused. She was in potential danger and he had to take care of her.

  “Okay, I apologize for insinuating your work isn’t important. I know it is. Let’s just get the cages and whatever else you need to a different lab.”

  “Fine with me.” She walked past as he took in a deep breath. There had to be clues to who the culprit group was. The local infidels were probably not highly skilled in rappelling down the sides of buildings, nor at turning off security camera systems.

  He found the window that had been cut. He took in another deep breath. Interesting that the burglar chose to tape the pane in place upon leaving. There must’ve been a purpose. That in itself kept the crime hidden until someone walked into the room in the daylight. But why risk the few extra minutes? How much time did he need to get away?

  Wanting to check out the cabinet that had held Mel’s laptop, he made his way in that direction, sucking in a deep breath here and there. He worried about why he wasn’t smelling anyone but his mate in this room. At the cabinet, he ran his nose along the frame. The sharp bite of chemicals used in explosives made him draw back. It wasn’t a large explosion, but enough to do the trick. The intruder knew exactly what he was doing.

  But there was no fucking scent of anything alive. This made no sense. His hands fisted into balls. He hated when others purposely hid their smell— Oh, fuck. They purposely hid their smell. Someone knew he was a shifter and was there. Only a handful of people knew. Shit. He needed to talk with HQ.

  Without turning to Melinda on the other side of the room, he asked, “Is there any place in particular you’d like to go?” When she didn’t answer immediately, he looked over his shoulder. She leaned against a counter and stared at him with a bemused look.

  After a second, she replied, “There’s a small room down the hall that has mazes the mice and I can play in.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and he laughed. She was so damn cute.

  He grabbed the two cages while Melinda loaded her lab coat pocket with treats. She led them to an unlocked room and held the door for him.

  “Just put the cages on the counter. I’ll take it from there.” He did so and turned to leave. “Parish— I mean, Hamel.” He stopped. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes focused on the floor. “Thank you for your help this morning. I’ve never dealt with that kind of thing and I was shocked and lost. You knew what to do, and I appreciate that.” Her eyes lifted to meet his. Their beautiful, glassy shine took his breath away. Yup, his mate had him wrapped around her finger already.

  He took a bow. “You’re welcome, milady. Dr. Oversight at your beck and call.” He winked at her then closed the door behind him. He took a calming breath and pulled his phone from his pocket. After pushing the speed-dial button, he headed for Kintu’s office.

  Before he could get the phone to his ear, a voice was already yelling. “It’s about fucking time, Jag. I was beginning to wonder if you’d gone AWOL.” Right, like that’d ever happen.

  “Don’t be a douchebag, man. You won’t believe all the shit that’s happened in the past thirty hours.”

  “Ha, try me.” Okay, maybe his boss would believe him. That man had probably seen some weird shit in his day.

  “Fine, I take that back. But you’ll never guess who I met.”

  “Christ, Jag. What is this, Twenty Questions?”

  “You know, you’ve been the biggest pain in the ass since th
at fight with the wolf pack. Did they kick your sense of humor along with your ass?”

  “In your dreams, dickhead.”

  Hamel smiled. “There’s the prick we all love.”

  “What do you got, Jag?”

  Good-relations social hour was over. That was one of the things he loved about his boss: He really cared. Most of the time. “Not looking good. There may be backing to the threats issued. Last night they pulled off a smooth gig after killing security cameras in a building as tight as Fort Knox.”

  “I’m not sure you want to use that analogy,” his boss said.

  What the hell was the guy talking about? It’s Fort Knox. “Why not?”

  “You know, there’s no money there anymore. Hasn’t been for forty years.”

  “No shit,” Hamel said. “How do you know that?”

  “I was one of the army’s grunts lucky enough to load the shit and haul it away.”

  “Where’d y’all take it?”

  “If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.” Hamel kept his mouth shut. His boss could be serious or blowing smoke up his ass. Either way, Hamel didn’t want to know. “All right, back to the job at hand, Jag. What else do you know?”

  “The target you sent me to protect happens to be my mate. Did you know that going in?” The silence on the line made him wonder if the call dropped. “You still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.” The tone of his voice had changed. It was filled with . . . uncertainty. He didn’t like that.

  “What’s going through your head, boss man?”

  A resigned sigh reached him. “You’re not going to like this, but it may be in your best interest if you’re reassigned.”

  Hamel froze in his tracks. “Bullshit!” Several people within hearing distance looked at him. He turned down another hall. “Don’t even think about reassigning me. I won’t leave. I can’t leave. She’s my mate and I will do whatever I have to to protect her.”