by A. C. Arthur
“You sh … should go,” she managed to say even while the look he was giving her had heat flowing instantly through her body, prickles of alertness creeping along her skin.
“Lock the goddamn door,” he said, his voice low, deep, almost like a growl.
Then he was gone. For about two seconds Kalina just stared at the closed door, wondering what the hell was going on. With her investigation. With her body. With this man.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go down. She was the one who needed to find information. He was the target, not her.
Going to her closet, she reached up to the top shelf, pulled down a metal box, and retrieved her nine millimeter. She was heading to the door, determined to follow Rome and find out what was going on.
Then she stopped.
Right there on the stand beside her door was an envelope—a plain white mailing envelope that looked strangely like the one that had been delivered to her a few days ago. The one with the pictures.
With slow, precise movements Kalina walked to the table, staring at the envelope as if by simple willpower it would open and reveal its contents. It couldn’t be the one she’d had the other day. She’d burned that one and the photo. There had been no delivery of another one; she’d never have accepted it. And probably would have shot the bastard trying to deliver it to her.
But here it was. Another envelope, with what inside she didn’t know, but she didn’t think she could afford not to find out.
So with gun in one hand she lifted the envelope with the other. The flap wasn’t closed, so as she held it upside down the contents fell to the floor.
More photos.
Kalina didn’t want to look at them, didn’t want to see or accept that somebody had been watching her that night two years ago and was most likely watching her now. It was just a chance encounter, a drug deal gone bad. It wasn’t about her. It couldn’t be about her.
But as she knelt down, picked up the first photo, and turned it so that she could see it, her heart plummeted. It was her. Today as she’d walked into Rome’s building for work; this evening as she’d stepped out of the shower and reached for the gray gown she still wore.
Her gun slipped from her hand, clanking loudly against the hardwood floor. She picked up another photo and another until she was looking at different shots of herself, naked in the shower, standing near the closet, pulling on her dress, leaving her apartment, driving her car across town to the hotel, walking into the hotel, and finally standing in the middle of the ballroom floor with Rome.
Her chest heaved, her eyes blurring and refocusing on the pictures. The room seemed to close in around her. Eerie eyes appearing everywhere, blinking and staring, watching and waiting. She fought back tears, choked to keep from screaming. Kalina wasn’t feeling crazy or on the brink of a breakdown any longer.
She felt hunted.
Chapter 7
Rome stepped out into the night air, his ears alive for sound. He’d picked up the scent as soon as he entered her apartment. Rogues had been inside, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind about that. And it was probably the same ones who’d approached her at the party.
He wasn’t surprised when Nick came up beside him, stealth-like, his body already bunched and ready to fight.
“I feel it, too,” Nick whispered. “They’re close.”
“What do they want?” Rome asked but didn’t necessarily expect Nick to answer.
“A fight. What else?”
Rome was shaking his head, refusing to believe that a fight was all this was about. Rogues didn’t need to search for ways to unleash their violence, and they didn’t normally single humans or shifters out. They were random with their viciousness, or at least they had been. Rome had a feeling the rules to the game were changing and he was a little late getting the memo.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still claim victory.
In a split second he heard a ferocious cry. It was a warning: Whatever shifter was in the area had scented them and wanted them gone. That wasn’t going to happen.
He and Nick took the next steps simultaneously, moving toward the sound, their bodies already alert, cats ready to pounce. There was already a cat out there, on the open streets hiding under the cloak of night. The Ètica prohibited them from revealing themselves to humans. It was the only way to preserve their species. Humans hated what they feared and they would definitely fear a part-man, part-jaguar shifter. Hate would lead to extermination and the end of the Shadow Shifters. They’d kept their secret for hundreds of years, the Assembly liked to believe they could go hundreds more. Rome didn’t necessarily agree but he’d be damned if the exposure would come from his Zone.
The moment they stepped off the sidewalk there was another challenging roar.
“It’s coming from the alley,” Nick said.
“It figures.”
Another male voice joined them and they both looked up to see X standing beside them, his cat already struggling to break free as they could see by the claws pressing through his fingernails.
“Whoa, X, hold on, we don’t know what’s down there.”
“We know it’s not good,” X said with a growl of his own matching the one in the darkness calling out to them.
Rome thought of using caution, but the next roar seemed closer to the building. The building where Kalina lived. Caution was forgotten in that second as the change began to take over. His heart, his mind, everything was shifting to the cat.
Tearing the jacket off came next, fur already rippling along his skin. Toeing off his shoes, he caught a quick glance of Nick and X stripping out of their clothes as well. In seconds he was free, the cat bursting to the surface in a series of crackling bones that gave way to the sinewy skeletal build of a full-grown jaguar.
His paws hit the damp cement as the cat shook its large head, lips tearing back to reveal sharp canines. This time he was the one to roar first, the only warning the other cat would get that he was coming.
With slow, deliberate movements Rome moved deeper into the alley, not coming to a stop when the first eerie green eyes came into view. This jaguar was large, stepping to the edge of an old fire escape baring its teeth in challenge. It had been waiting, watching them from the moment they’d entered the alleyway, judging its prey, body tensed for action.
A different scent had Rome’s attention moving to the other side: another cat. Another full-grown jaguar stepping from behind a Dumpster, its whiskers twitching to pick up the scent of Rome, Nick, and X.
From behind Rome heard a weaker growl, scented fear, and knew instinctively what would happen next.
X roared and Nick leapt into the air just as the jaguar from behind the Dumpster charged. Rome came up on his hind legs the second the jaguar from above pounced, their huge bodies meeting in midair as their bodies shifted in almost impossible positions. It was a brief battle, three on three, paws smacking against muscled flanks, canines nipping at fur-covered skin.
It was a gruesome sound, ferocious roars and grunts echoing off the buildings surrounding them, lifting into the city atmosphere with an eerie deranged resonance.
In the distance, but coming closer, was the sound of sirens.
Rome’s ears lifted at the sound, his body bunching as the other jaguar took a swipe at him with a large paw. With his own paw Rome blocked just in time, hitting the other cat’s body with a fierce swipe of his own. The other cat stumbled back and Rome turned to see Nick and X both overtaking their opponents. He gave a low roar, sending the warning, and watched as they both delivered dispatching blows.
They were first to exit the alley, preservation of the species more imperative than killing the cats that had dared attack them on a city street. The other cats stood together, growling and issuing warnings of their own on the other side of the alley.
It was like a gang fight dispersing unwillingly. Only these weren’t normal humans. They were animals, deadly animals who had just seen the first acts of a war long coming.
As Rome, N
ick, and X hit the mouth of the alley, they weren’t surprised to see Ezra and Eli holding their clothes. The two men were half out of their tuxedos as well, most likely having been ready to shift themselves and join the battle until they heard the police sirens.
His mind registered the change back, his cat protesting while the man tried to focus on the here and now. They were on the streets, he was in charge. They needed to get away from this area, now. Slipping into his pants, Rome grabbed the rest of his clothes from Eli and yelled to the others, “Let’s go. Take both vehicles and meet at my place.”
Eli and Ezra nodded. Nick and X had donned their pants and were holding the remainder of their clothes as they moved quickly to the vehicles.
When Rome was in the car, the cool leather of the seats rubbing against his bare back, he breathed out a sigh.
This wasn’t over. He would see those cats again, he was certain.
The war the Assembly had been trying to avoid for hundreds of years was just beginning.
Chapter 8
In the den of Rome’s house three restless, angry jaguars paced. It probably made an interesting sight to see these particular three men with cats lurking just beneath the surface of their skin. Professional men with animalistic traits driving their thoughts and actions. The space was filled with tension as they moved within its small confines. In the wild, pure jaguars lived solitary lives; the only time they were together was as mother and cub for the first two years of a cub’s life.
The Shadow Shifters were different in that they remained together. Each tribe created its own little community. This was both for protection and preservation. Even as they migrated to the States, most of the shifters lived in close proximity to at least two other shifters of the same tribe. There was safety in numbers to their way of thinking.
Tonight had been one shock after another. Rome knew that each piece was connected, from the bug in his tuxedo to the attack in the alley. They’d broken major Ètica rules tonight, but there’d been no other choice. The Rogues were coming at them with nothing but attack on their agenda.
“They weren’t all Topètenia,” Nick said finally.
After arriving at Rome’s house, each of them had showered. Because Rome was the only one with a house and not an apartment or condo, they spent a lot of time here playing in his huge game room, watching sports, or running in the secluded wooded area behind the house. Both Nick and X kept clothes at his place for occasions like tonight.
Nick now wore sweats, tennis shoes, and a black shirt after his shower. He’d stopped pacing long enough to reach down to the coffee table and pick up one of the stress balls shaped like fruit from the large glass bowl to work vigorously in his left palm.
Rome stopped at the row of windows that made up almost the entire left wall of the room. His own loose-fitting jeans and T-shirt scraped against his skin as the cat inside pressed harder for release. He could see out over the vast lawn to the line of trees that were also his property about fifty feet away. The dark, desolate place called to him, beckoned the cat inside to break out once more, to come to the one place it could be free.
“How do you know?” he asked, his throat tight with the words. He’d sensed something different about the trio, but the one who’d been stupid enough to attack him was definitely a jaguar. One of the wilder ones, probably lost from its mother early in the forest and left to fend for itself. He wasn’t built like the rest of them—he seemed to be bulkier, but naturally so. And he was sloppy in his fighting, probably hadn’t been trained as precisely as the others had. No matter, he was still a killer at heart and some things were just instinct. “We were taken by surprise, running on adrenaline.”
“At any time, in any circumstances, I know who I’m fighting, Rome. And you would have, too. It was a cheetah.”
“No way,” X said from the corner he’d boxed himself in after he’d finished pacing.
As if hearing his voice reminded Rome of his presence, he turned to the man. “Where did you come from? I thought you had some research to do tonight.”
At his side X’s fists clenched and unclenched. He didn’t go for the stress ball, but holding on to his cat was a test as well. They all wanted to go back out, to find those Rogues and finish them off. The instinct to hunt and kill their enemy was strong, stroking along their humanity like a serrated-edge knife.
X was the largest of the trio, standing six foot four with broad shoulders, a bald head, and skin almost the same reddish brown tone he had in cat form.
It was no accident that their coloring stayed generally consistent in both forms. Nick’s lighter shade coincided with the tawny brown jaguar he became, just as Rome’s darker cocoa complexion melded perfectly into the black jaguar he was. As full-grown male cats they each had length and agility that made them the feral hunters they were reputed to be. Standing here in their human form, they were still magnificently built men, toned muscle and barely restrained strength. Only now they were using their intelligence to sort through this situation instead of violence, revealing the humanity they strived to retain.
“I arrived at the party just as you were leaving. When I saw the Tahoe and the limo I followed.” X shrugged. “Good thing I did. Three against two.”
“We’ve had worse odds,” Nick stated. “Besides, Eli and Ezra were there.”
They had fought together often, facing all sorts of odds, years ago when all three of them were in the Gungi. Which is why all of them remained firm that even when living in the States, fighting wasn’t a lifestyle they wanted on a daily basis. Tonight, however, there’d been no choice.
“The cops didn’t see anything, Rome,” X told him as if reading his mind.
“I know,” he said, still not liking the fact that they’d all been in cat form as if it were the most natural thing on the streets of DC. “But they’ll be back. Showing themselves tonight was like a preamble for what’s to come.”
Silence meant they all agreed.
“You think it’s the three from the party? The ones that were gunning for Kalina? That was Kalina Harper, our new employee, correct?”
Nick was still working that stress ball, his brow furrowed, pupils now mere slits in the light of the room. Shifters had eyes that adapted to light and dark. In the alley where they’d relied on their night vision, their pupils were round and big, allowing them to see. In the light, smaller, dark slashes against the bright cornea showed. This was because the cat was still lurking, waiting. In the office or whenever they were completely human, with the cat resting inside, their eyes looked like any normal human’s.
“It was Kalina,” Rome said tightly. “They had her in their sights. I knew there were shifters in the building but didn’t get a look at them until I noticed she was there.” That knowledge was still scraping against his already raw nerves. Why were they aiming for her? Had they known she was going to be there?
“Who’s Kalina Harper?” X asked, moving with quiet agility to sit on the leather couch.
“She’s our new hot-ass accountant,” Nick said with a bleak smile that withered only slightly when he caught Rome’s glare.
It was bait, Rome knew, and he decided quickly to ignore it. “I don’t know what she was doing there tonight,” he said, still thinking of the way she looked caught in those Rogues’ glare. Nothing could have stopped him from going to her at that moment, from taking her with him, showing the Rogues that she was under his protection.
“Maybe she just bought a ticket like most of the other people there,” Nick offered.
“Maybe.” But Rome wasn’t convinced. There was still something about her that beckoned him. He remembered that night two years ago when he’d been heading home from a meeting. He never usually drove himself to meetings, especially not faction meetings. But he had that night. He’d been walking to the parking garage where he’d left his car when he took a detour. A scent he’d lifted had drawn him in the opposite direction. Toward that alley where the man was attacking her.
Tonight, he
now realized, he’d been drawn to her again, this time before she’d been attacked.
As for what happened in the back of the truck, it was inevitable that it would continue. Rome was too strong-minded, too sure of himself to believe anything else.
“The bigger question is what we’re going to do about those Rogues. Do you think they acted alone?” X asked.
“No way,” Nick spoke up. “They weren’t trained fighters, or at least not trained well. It was a sloppy attack. I don’t even think they expected us to be there.”
X sat back on the couch. “Which means they were looking for the woman because you were just leaving her house, right, Rome?”
“Yes. I’d just come outside when I saw Nick. We picked up the scent at the same time.”
“There wasn’t time to do anything but react,” Nick said then tossed the ball across the room, where it bounced off a bookshelf. “The fuckers snuck up on us.”
“Retaliation,” X said. “Rome took away their prize. You know how they are about females.”
Rome nodded. “I know.” And that’s exactly why he’d been so intent on getting Kalina out of there. Now his concern was whether the Rogues were bold enough to go back to her apartment. “Put Ezra on her. I don’t want her alone at any time.”
Nick nodded. “The question’s still: Why? What’s her connection to them?”
“Rogues don’t need a connection. If they want her they’re going to keep going until they get her,” X surmised.
“That’s what they do in the Gungi. This is not the forest,” Rome stated, hearing the hollowness of his words.
Nick interjected, “And the Rogues are no longer in the forest, as we now know. Just because we’re acting civilized doesn’t mean they will.”
Rome reluctantly agreed. Tonight had proven that the rules had changed. The question was what they were going to do about it. “Get Baxter on the phone. I want a meeting first thing tomorrow morning,” he told Nick. “Everybody is to be here at seven.”
