by Vyne, Amanda
He was going to have to take her to the doc for her own good and soon.
“Well, uncomplicate it, bro. You don’t need me to tell you how much a damn act of God she is. Don’t go and screw it up.” Tag flicked another glance at the screens, but Raife got the impression he wasn’t looking at Katya. “Most of us will never get a break like this.”
Raife ground his teeth and watched as Katya and Kel walked off the screen to disappear into the women’s locker room. A few minutes later, she shimmered into the Tech Lab, damp white gold hair pulled back into that clip.
She flicked a glance over him, pleasure lighting the nearly translucent blue depths, before she shuttered her expression. Her nostrils flared, and she nodded toward the bag he forgot he was even holding.
She had that effect on him.
Hell, he wanted to crush her to him, to absorb her so he could be sure she would never be at risk. Just the fresh scent of her drew him across the room, and he reached up with one hand to cup the back of her head and pull her into a kiss that burned him clear down to his groin. She stiffened against him at first contact as she always did, but only for a moment. She was getting more comfortable with the need for physical contact that came with a mating.
Tag grunted from behind them. “Can you guys not do that in here? I’m trying to work and shit.”
Katya tensed, but Raife felt her draw in his scent. It gave him a sense of satisfaction that she needed reassurance as much as he did. He held her for a long moment before he let her push away from him. “How was your sparring with Kel?”
Those lips widened in a small knowing smile, and she fixed her gaze on the screens. “You tell me.”
Tag laughed. “Busted.”
Raife ignored the other Drachon and motioned Katya to her terminal. “Why don’t you show us that big break you made in our case?”
“Food first.” She snatched the bag from his grip and was sailing back to her workstation, rummaging through the bag of bagels he’d picked up for her. Okay, he’d made a special trip on the bike, but the sounds she was making were worth the trouble. His entire body was in agreement.
Katya stuffed a bit in her mouth before leaning over the computer to pound away at the keys. “So I hacked into the state department and pulled up their missing persons database for the last couple years.” She stuffed another bite in her mouth, and Raife thought the pleasure she was getting from that damn cinnamon-and-sugar bagel was pornographic. Shifting his body to accommodate his reaction, he tried to focus on what she was saying. “Then I accessed Incog’s petition files and did a search for missing persons. I added the petitions to the Triumvirate as well.”
“Wait, wait, wait…” Tag stood up from his own workstation. “You got into the Triumvirate’s mainframe?”
Raife loved that little smile that curled the corner of her lips as she continued to tap away with a nod.
“What about their firewall? I’ve tried to hack into their system for years; they have a kick-ass security system.”
Katya shrugged, and a shadow shifted over her mind. “There’s a back door.”
Tag groaned. “Marry me. I may not have the Colombian-drug-lord look going for me like some guys you know…” After casting a pointed glare at Raife, Tag swept his hand over his closely buzzed hair. “But we would make computer-genius babies together.” He tried to reach into her bag to snag a bagel.
Katya slapped his hand away with a shake of her head. When she laughed, Raife felt something lighten inside him, despite his desire to break Tag’s neck. He hadn’t heard her laugh since before she was taken. Long before she was taken. He liked it. Wanted to hear it again.
“The Incog files didn’t have much of interest, and the Triumvirate files are encrypted. I’m rebuilding a program I created a year or so ago to decrypt them.” Katya turned to another computer, and Tag leaned in to look over her shoulder. His dark brows were lowered with interest. Raife leaned over to peer down at her screen and took the opportunity to breathe her in as well. He shook his head at the unintelligible mess on the screen. He might as well be trying to read hieroglyphics.
“Anyway”—she swiveled her chair to face another computer—“the state department has over 25,000 active missing persons cases, and more than that are reported every year. So I started a process of elimination. I narrowed it down to a few hundred and then started looking for similarities between those.”
“And?” Raife frowned at her screen. Files were popping up and disappearing as lines of text were highlighted and discarded.
“It’s not earthshaking or anything, but I found a couple interesting coincidences in Los Angeles. It primarily pertains to cases that were marked dismissed. Two years ago, several of the closed cases were reopened by a Detective R. Defoe, all of which had been initially started and closed out by a detective by the name of Travis Manning. Last year Detective Defoe was suspended for criminal trespass in a state-supported property. The report says Detective Defoe followed another officer into the locked evidence room and struck him before leaving with some narcotics that had been impounded earlier that day. Guess who the accusing officer was?”
Raife smiled down at her pale head. “Let me guess, Detective Manning?”
“Give the guy a gold star,” she crowed excitedly. “The drugs were never found in his possession, and the criminal charges were dropped, but Detective Defoe was never reinstated. Manning closed out the cases again, and the physical files for those cases were reported missing from the evidence locker. Mr. Defoe is now a private investigator in Pasadena. I have his address right here.”
“Son of a bitch.” Tag’s voice was heavy with respect. “I think I will try to steal you from Merrick.”
“Over your dead body.” Raife growled without any real heat. It was hard to truly be irritated when Katya’s pride and pleasure in herself washed over him. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her again. With the fit of his jeans being too tight from just being so close to her, he didn’t want to push his luck, especially when it looked like he might be arranging a flight to Los Angeles. The last thing he needed was to show up in Forestor’s office with a hard-on.
“Good job, baby.”
“I know.” Her cheeks were pink, and her pale eyes sparkled up at him.
Forestor would just have to deal with it.
Raife lifted her up from the chair and pulled her hard against his body. She felt so damn good, so soft, and her growing confidence was like an aphrodisiac. Hell, just the sound of her breathing was enough to make him want her. Her sigh blew out against his lips, and he inhaled her in as he lowered his head and slanted his lips over hers.
“Asswipe.” Tag groaned and moved quickly to the other side of the room. “Have some mercy.”
Chapter Fourteen
“No fucking way.”
Katya faced off against Raife. “I found the lead.”
“So, that doesn’t give you a license to put yourself in danger.”
“I get to make those choices, not you.” Her head was pounding, and it only got worse the more she listened to Raife argue against her ability to work as a full member of the team. The thoughtful way Forestor watched them had her gritting her teeth.
A muscle in Raife’s jaw ticked as he addressed Forestor. “We know the Bay House has an order of retrieval on her. If that’s not enough, then the fucking Triumvirate itself might have an interest in her. As well as the Rebels. She needs to stay inside Incog where she’s safe.”
“Safe?” Katya felt a hard knot of anger start to curl tighter in her stomach. Too much had been taken from her, too many people besides her making the decisions. She wanted to be more than a damn spectator in her own life. She would rather face the risk than be that person whose life just happened to her.
“But I am not willing to risk your life.” Raife gazed back down at her with a frown.
Knowing he’d heard her thoughts made her aware of just how much of her mind he’d conquered over the past couple of weeks. It was getti
ng harder and harder to keep him out. It made her feel bare and vulnerable to him. His need to protect her was sometimes so tangible a force that it overshadowed everything, giving her the sensation that she was being swallowed up by it. She had to struggle for every breath.
She refused to live her life gasping for air.
Determination stiffened her spine and lifted her chin when she turned to stand fully before Forestor. She could feel the weight of Raife’s disapproval. “The Bay House is unlikely to rescind that order, and I’m fairly certain the Triumvirate and the Rebels aren’t going to give up anytime soon. That means I’m a hot-ticket item until we figure out what they want. So until we figure that out, I need to learn to exist with those threats over my head, unless I intend to live inside the walls of Incog indefinitely. And I don’t.”
“Right now you need to stay safe,” Raife bit off. “I won’t let you put yourself at risk just because you’re getting restless.”
Katya refused to acknowledge his words or even look at him. She tried to reinforce the walls in her mind, feeling Raife’s anger and frustration burst heavily against the barrier she created. “I agreed to stay and work inside this building because I needed your help and I had nowhere else to go,” she said carefully around the tightness in her chest. “Is my being a prisoner here a condition of that agreement?”
“That’s a bullshit question, Kat, and you know it.”
Forestor’s expression never so much as flickered as he watched her for a long moment. There was only a nearly imperceptible thinning of his lips before he sighed. “You put me in an untenable position, Ms. Schaffer. It’s against the rules of the Alliance as well as my own convictions to interfere with a mated pair.”
“None of us are members of the Alliance anymore, Mr. Forestor. Hell, we don’t even know what I am anymore. There are no rules to apply.”
“I don’t give a damn about any of that. I know exactly what you are – mine.”
His thoughts blazed through her mind, trying to leave a mark of ownership deep inside her where she would be unable to deny him. It felt as though he was trying to take her over, to force her acknowledgment of him. She tried to pull her mind from his, but he held her there, his mind firmly entrenched.
Shock resonated through her. Her flesh prickled with the sensation. Raife didn’t back off; he didn’t look away. She was held by him, pinned beneath the intensity of his claim on her, his determination to protect her. Panic welled inside her, and for a long moment, she thought she was going to choke on it. For just that moment, she was back in the stifling dark, not knowing when she would be released or if she would die there.
Forcing air through her lungs, she lifted her clenched fists, wrists up. The memories of her helplessness and impotent anger shot to the surface, and she pushed them at him. “Would you like to snap on the silver cuffs, place me in a silver holding cell? Are you going to withhold food and clothes and basic hygiene to keep me in line?” His thoughts flared with rage and horror. With pain. In that moment, she’d struck a direct blow before she even realized she meant to. His hurt ricocheted back, winging mercilessly through her before he pulled away from her.
Instinctively she wanted to soothe, to touch his mind, but the distance felt too great between them now. Not for the first time in the past months, she wished there still existed that easy bond that she’d depended on for most of her life. Now there was only passion and distrust, anger and the endless gnawing hunger for something she couldn’t understand. Even now her stomach tightened with it.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to risk her safety,” Raife said to Forestor.
Katya continued to stare at Raife’s profile. She heard the steady beat of Raife’s heart pounding in his big body, and her gaze was errantly drawn to the flickering of the pulse in his neck. Her gums throbbed with a hunger that grew worse by the day. Closing her eyes, she felt the weariness descend on her, eating away at her strength.
“I went to Caltech,” Katya said tiredly, and she felt the faintest brush of Raife’s mind over hers. When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her. His brows were lowered, and he looked worried. Well, that made two of them. Her gaze dropped down to that slight flicker of his blood surging beneath his flesh before she forced herself to focus on Forestor. “It’s in Pasadena. The man’s address is only a couple blocks from a restaurant I used to eat at in college. I can shimmer us there—and back, if necessary—in a hurry. Those abilities have grown strong in the last few weeks.”
She got the impression Forester hadn’t missed a single blow in their silent struggle. His nostrils flared, and his enigmatic gaze slid over Raife before falling back on her.
“I’ll be able to copy his computer files in seconds. Besides,” Katya added, “I doubt the Bay House or the Triumvirate would expect us to just appear at the doorstep of a random ex-cop four hundred miles from San Francisco.”
Forestor gave a short nod. “I have to admit she’s right. She can’t be held here forever, and the threat against her is not likely to go away anytime soon.” He gave Raife a pointed look, though his words were directed at her. “You’re going to need to know how to defend yourself and those in your care.”
Katya gave a hesitant nod and shot a glance at Raife. A muscle in his jaw flexed, and there was that telltale spark in his eyes. They were more golden than she’d ever seen them when he turned them on her and raked them down her body with the unmistakable light of possession glowing behind their depths. She shivered in reaction.
“Just remember something while we’re out there; if things go from sugar to shit, I will kill everything that stands between us.”
THOSE WORDS WERE rolling ominously through her mind thirty minutes later when she shimmered them to the alley next to Bailey’s Bistro in Pasadena and stepped out of Raife’s arms. It was warmer here than San Francisco, and the change was abrupt, clinging to her skin with a heaviness that had nausea pushing at her throat. Shimmering that far must have had more of an effect on her than she’d initially suspected it would.
The smell of rotting food emanating from the Dumpster didn’t help.
Swallowing hard, she glanced up at him. He was closely tracking all movement around the alley, still silent after their heated discussion in Forestor’s office. He had an arsenal of weapons stashed into his tactical-style khaki pants. A formfitting tank was tucked into the waist, and a button-down shirt hung loose and open, hiding most of what she’d just watched him pack into his pockets.
Katya dragged her gaze from the ridges of his belly and pulled the modified cell phone from the back pocket of her faded jeans. She’d already loaded Defoe’s address into the GPS application. As they exited the alley, Raife glanced up and down the busy street and casually laid one muscled arm around her shoulders, pulling her in tight to his body.
He felt warm and smelled so good. It took effort to focus on the map displayed on her device.
“Three blocks north and then two west. It should be the second house from the corner,” she murmured and hesitated before sliding an arm around his waist beneath the open shirt. They looked like two normal people walking down the street. She watched the cars drive by with dull hisses of sound and thought how far from normal she felt. Five years ago, she’d walked down this street, but she hadn’t felt any more normal then either.
As they turned the corner onto Defoe’s street, Raife pulled her to a stop, his arm tightening around her shoulders. Two blocks down, there was a crowd of people on the opposite side from where their GPS said Defoe’s house was. Two Pasadena PD squad cars were parked in front of a house, and an emergency services van pulled away from the curb slowly. The coroner’s vehicle remained.
Well, that didn’t look good.
Raife steered her across the street and guided them into the crowd of people. She didn’t need to recheck her GPS to know that was Defoe’s house decorated with crime-scene tape.
“Hey, guy,” Raife said to a kid standing on the curb with a skateboard braced against his
knee. “What the hell happened there?”
The kid shrugged with a snort. “Some dude bit it, man. Guess his wife came home and there he was.” The kid dragged his thumb across his throat with a comical expression and a dry gurgling sound. “Sucks, though. Now my mom’s gonna get all crazy on me.” He snorted again with a shake of his head and dropped his board down before jumping on.
Katya watched the kid ride up the sidewalk to a nearby house and pull to a stop to talk to someone else. She turned back to find Raife staring down at her. “What?”
“You doubt anyone would suspect we’d show up here at some ex-cop’s house, huh?” He cursed and ran a hand through his thick hair in agitation. “You said he was a PI, right?”
Katya nodded absently as her eyes raked over the scene across the street. The crime-scene investigators pulled up in a van, and she watched a woman get out and lift the hatch. The woman waved to one of the cops before reapplying lipstick and pulling her jacket off. From the way she sauntered off, she was more interested in flaunting herself than protecting her gear. That gave Katya an idea.
She glanced back at the house thoughtfully.
“You don’t happen to have the address of his business?”
“You’re looking at it.” Katya smiled when Raife cursed. Sliding from beneath his arm, she slowly maneuvered to the rear of the crowd. She needed an inconspicuous place to shimmer from.
“Goddamn it, Kat. Whatever you’re thinking, forget it,” he whispered.
Katya barely spared him a glance as she found a nicely enclosed spot between a section of fence and a bush with Raife following closely. “And pounding your chest isn’t going to work any better for you now than it did before. We need in that house.”
“Katya.” Raife rumbled a warning as she crouched down on her heels and focused at a point just behind the investigator’s van.
