“It’s not a case of pulling you, O’Reilly,” he says around his food, chewing faster.
“What then? Why am I here?”
Tom swallows. He picks up his coffee. “We don’t have the manpower to keep focusing on your harpy.”
“My harpy?” I shake my head. “What do you mean by that? She’s not my harpy.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Tom. You’re going to pull M and M as well?” I make a groaning noise. “Not that they were all that great, mind you. Their names should be dumb and dumber. How do they ever take anything down?”
“Don’t do that. Every Seeker in the country is aware of what happened. They’ve all received a picture and a description of the harpy. She will turn up. In the meanwhile, we have bigger fish to fry.”
“Bigger fish? She caused the injury of one of our own. Andy is still lying in that bed, fighting for his life.” I feel my eyes prick. I try hard to keep my voice down and fail. “I spoke to his mother earlier.” I pull in a few deep breaths. I don’t want to break down. “They’re worried that he is slipping into a vegetative state.”
“I know.” Tom puts down his fork and rubs his hands. “I have been following up as well. Believe it or not, I care about him.”
“Well, then?” I yell. “We have to do something. We can’t just give up.”
“It’s been weeks, O’Reilly. I can’t give you more.”
“Weeks of bullshit. Mark and Mandy wouldn’t know their asses from their elbows. They’re useless.”
“I told you not to go there.” Tom points a finger at me.
“I will! They wouldn’t listen to anything I had to say. It didn’t end up being Lilith, but they almost blew the hotel stakeout. We may never have known if I wasn’t involved. If we give up now, we won’t find her. The longer this drags on, the further into the wind she is. It’ll be on you if we don’t get Andy justice. Do you want to live with that? Can you live with that?”
“This is why you should have seen a therapist. Can you even hear yourself, Morgan? This is on you.” He points at me again.
My heart sinks down into my shoes. The blood drains from my body.
“You need to own it. It wasn’t Mandy or Mark who got Andy hurt. It was you who put him in that bed. If you want someone to blame, you blame yourself. No one wants to partner with you, and I don’t blame them. You’re a loose cannon. A liability. I’m closing this down. I suggest you ride a desk for a while. That you keep your nose clean. Maybe at some point—”
“You’re right,” I interrupt. My voice sounds foreign. It’s cold and emotionless. “I am to blame for what happened.” My chest is rising and falling in quick succession. “Now it’s up to me to make it right. I don’t need a partner because I already have one.” I stand.
“Sit down, Morgan,” Tom instructs.
I ignore him. “I know how to tackle this. I know where to go and who to talk to. I’m going to fix this. Not for myself but for Andy.”
I leave, taking quick strides. I’m determined to do right by my partner, my friend. This isn’t about the Order anymore. Rules? What rules? I’m going to do whatever it takes to fix this.
“Morgan!” Tom yells. “Dammit, Morgan,” he yells even harder. “Wait! Morgan, wait.”
I don’t listen. I keep walking.
7
Two weeks later…
Morgan
OMG!
Is that him?
No! It can’t be. Can it? I glance at his name badge. Dr. Lyre Jennings. It’s him. It’s really him. I’ve found him. I have a contact at the local Police Department. A guy who used to be one of us. A Seeker. He put me onto the private investigator. The one who brought the photograph of the harpy into the department to begin with. I spent the last couple of days watching Luke Roberts but to no avail. I finally took matters into my own hands, and here I am. Lyre Jennings. He’s nothing like I expected. I knew he was intelligent and funny, but this? Not this. Not ever this.
At twenty-eight years of age, I’ve come to realize that the voice you hear on the phone, or on the radio, doesn’t always match up to the person. I force myself to look away. To focus instead on the food on my tray. I take small looks at him from under my lashes, feeling like a schoolgirl. Not that I was ever the kind of schoolgirl who looked under her lashes at boys. I’m the youngest of six kids. My siblings are all boys. I was unplanned, just like my two brothers before me. We were not unwanted or unloved, just unplanned. Catholic or not, my mom had her tubes tied after I was born. We didn’t have much money growing up. I had to wear mostly hand-me-downs from my brothers. I didn’t own a dress until I was eighteen. Even then, I felt awkward wearing one. Nope, no fluttering lashes. I was the one playing ball with the boys, not dating them.
Yet, here I am, sneaking looks at this man. Lyre. I see him take out his phone and smile. Holy crap, but he has a great smile. I clear my throat softly. I need to remain focused and professional.
Although I have to say, I’ve never seen a doctor who looks like him before. He’s tall, and from the way he’s filling out that coat, he’s sporting some serious muscles too. He has hair just past his shoulders. It’s wavy and untamed. I’ve never been one for longer hair on a guy before. Maybe I was wrong. His eyes are a vivid green. He’s unnaturally good-looking. I’m instantly attracted to him. By the looks other women in here are giving him, I’m not the only one. This puts me on high alert. Plenty of non-humans are attractive to us. Like the Venus flytrap secretes nectar to attract its prey. Various other species use this method to attract themselves some lunch. It makes me think of the centaurs. Deadly but beautiful. I shudder.
The doctor is looking at the blackboard on the far wall. He types something on his phone and then drops it into the pocket of his white coat. He heads for the counter, his eyes are back on the blackboard which has the meals of the day displayed on it.
My phone buzzes, and I pull it out. It’s a message from him. It’s proof that Mr. Pushy and the sexy doctor are one and the same. My heart is beating rapidly. After almost two weeks of working my way through the underground, of dealing with low-lifes and scum, I might finally have a real lead. This has to pan out. It’s my last shot.
Him: Should I go with the pasta or the chicken salad? I’m starving but trying to stick to healthy options.
I hold back a snigger. A guy like him can eat pasta for days. He is one of those types with a naturally fast metabolism. You can see it just by looking at him.
He stares at the board for a while longer and then pulls his phone out of his pocket. He types, and my phone buzzes in my hand. I open the message.
Him: What, too stubborn to help a guy out? Fine, I’ll choose for myself, but I’m not going to tell you what I decided on. The suspense will kill you.
He actually gives a half-smile. Yeah, my life will end if I don’t find out what Mr. Pushy had for lunch. I shake my head. Now I know why he’s a touch on the arrogant side. I mean, look at him.
I smile, but it’s grudging; I watch the sexy doctor place his order. I watch him head back to his table a couple of minutes later, tray in hand.
I’ve never been one for delaying the inevitable. We’re in a public place. In his place of business. It doesn’t get much better than this for a confrontation. I should be relatively safe here. I’m going to assume that Doctor Lyre Jennings has built a life for himself. That he has a reputation to protect and uphold.
I pick up my tray and walk over to him. I put the tray down and take a seat. His eyes widen, and he frowns. “Um…hello,” he says. “Can I help you, Miss…”
He stops wrapping spaghetti around his fork. It’s a tomato-based sauce with a couple of little meatballs on top.
“It’s Miss Stubborn, and I’m glad you went with the pasta. I had the salad, and the chicken is dry.”
He drops his fork with a clang, and his mouth falls open for a few seconds.
“I’m going to give you five minutes to tell me about Lilith/Gabb
y, whatever her name is. I want the truth.”
Lyre
It’s her.
She’s here.
The mystery woman.
I lean back in my chair and fold my arms. She’s nothing like I expected, and yet, the way she looks fits with the no-nonsense woman I’ve spoken to and texted with. Her hair is short. Shorter than some guys I know. It’s an inky black. Glossy like a raven’s wing. I suspect it’s her natural color, although people would pay money to look like that. Her outfit would look better on a man too, but that’s where the manliness ends. Her eyes are huge. A light blue. Her mouth is full. Her nose small and turned up ever so slightly. There’s a smattering of freckles on her nose, which tells me she spends quite a bit of time in the sun.
She’s very shapely underneath the shirt and black slacks. Definitely no man. Not by a long shot. Despite her lack of make-up and masculine attire, she’s wearing perfume. It’s floral with citrus undertones.
“Who are you, and why are you looking for her?” I ask.
Miss Stubborn’s eyes dart around the room. I notice that they move between each of the exits. Her back is against the wall, and her hands are under the table. She’s ready. “This is how this is going to work; you tell me everything you know, and then I’ll tell you what I know. Maybe we can help each other find this…woman.” Her eyes change when she says ‘woman’. I also note that she paused before she said it. Why?
“I already told you, Gabby stole from me. I met her at one of the local bars. We got to talking. We danced and had a few drinks. I invited her back to my place.” I feel my whole body tense. “When I woke up the next morning, there were a couple of things missing, including—”
“Your wallet and a watch.”
“Yes.” I nod. “My camera and laptop were gone as well, but—”
She chuckles. Her voice is throaty and deep. “I told you I didn’t believe you. I still don’t.”
I frown. “I’m not sure why you wouldn’t believe me.” I shrug.
She glances at her watch. “You have one more minute.”
“Stop being pushy. Let’s talk about this.”
“Stop being stubborn. I’m not here to play games. Why you?” She looks me up and down. She isn’t checking me out. It’s not like that. I’ve only ever spoken to this woman once, and she’s only ever answered my texts once, and yet, I somehow feel connected to her. I remind myself that I felt a connection with Gabby as well and look where that got me. No, I need to proceed with caution. “Why you and not some other guy?”
“Why me? That’s a good question. I’m a decent conversationalist. I can dance. I’ve been told I’m a good-looking guy. Why wouldn’t Gabby want to go home with me?”
“I can tell you that she didn’t go home with you because of your looks or dance skills.”
“You’re right! I’m a surgeon. I drive a nice car. I’m sure she quickly realized that I was a great mark.”
“You’re saying she’s a con artist? That she came after you for money?”
“Yes.” I nod.
“She didn’t take some crappy watch or your money.” Her eyes narrow. “What did she want with you? Why you? She picked you for a specific reason.”
How can she know that? “All you have to do is tell me your name, and I’ll tell you something. We can share one fact at a time.”
She cocks her head and scrutinizes me for a while. “No. That’s not going to work for me.”
“You really are the most stubborn person I have ever met…or not met since I have no idea who you are. Fine, I’ll start. You already know my name and profession. Gabby singled me out. She came onto me. Bought me a drink. Seduced me.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. We already established that she picked you for a reason. Why? What did she take?”
“You first.” I’m getting irritated. “What happens when I spill my guts to you?” I can guess. “Oh, I know, you’ll leave, and that’ll be that. Gabby or whoever the hell this woman is has something of mine. Something I need back. I’m going to find her. With your input or without it. I don’t need to tell you anything. We can share information, or you can leave.” I bluff. “You do know how to share…or were you an only child?”
Miss Stubborn leans forward, her large eyes on mine. She puts one hand on the table. The other one is still under the table. “No, I wasn’t an only child. There, I shared, now your turn. What are you?” she whispers, making the hairs stand up all over my body.
“Come again?”
“Let’s cut the crap, Doc. You’re not human. Not even close. What are you?” She talks under her breath even though there are no occupied tables near us.
My heart beats faster. I feel it thumping in my chest. My hands go clammy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I swallow down about a hundred counter-questions. How the hell does she know? Who is she?
What the hell!
I suck in a breath when I feel something cold and hard slide down my inner thigh. It pushes up against my cock.
Fuck!
The mystery woman leans forward, her breasts just resting on the table. Her eyes are hard and very focused. “Meet my Glock 18. It’s fully automatic and loaded. Capable of not only taking your dick clean off but leaving a sizable hole where it used to be. If I was you, I would start talking.”
“Not here,” I manage to push out. It’s hard to talk when a person is threatening to blow your dick off.
She presses the muzzle of the gun a little deeper into my crotch.
I swallow thickly, lifting my hands in a gesture of surrender. “You wouldn’t,” I say, lowering my hands because, otherwise, I’m going to draw unwanted attention to us. I’m not sure how I would explain this to my superiors and colleagues.
“You willing to take that risk?” She looks like she means it.
I have superior healing skills. I’m not sure if they extend to growing back limbs and appendages. I’m not willing to take the risk. “I’m a dragon demigod.”
“A what?” She frowns.
“I’m part dragon shifter and part god.”
She gives me a dirty look. “Bullshit!” Then she presses her gun so tightly against my cock it hurts…just a little.
I grunt.
“Demigod my ass.”
I growl low, an almost inaudible rumble from deep in my chest. “So you buy the dragon shifter part then?”
She nods once. “Maybe. That would make you a relatively peaceful species. We leave the dragon shifters alone.”
“We?” I raise my brows.
“I’m holding the gun. I’ll ask the questions. I know that dragon shifters exist, but I’ll need you to prove that you are really one.”
“Right now?”
“Make your eyes glow for a second or show me some scales.”
She knows her stuff. “I’m at work.” I look around the room, my eyes locking with a nurse who works on my team.
She smiles as I look away. Shit!
“Hi, Doctor Jennings,” she says. “Everything okay?” She stops at our table. “You look worried.”
“I’m fine, Louise.” I smile at her. “My girlfriend came to visit. How sweet is that?” I put my hand around Miss Stubborn’s shoulder and rub her back lovingly. Her whole body tenses.
“Oh, you have a girlfriend.” Louise’s brows go up. “I wasn’t aware. I’m Louise.” She holds out her hand to the mystery woman.
I pull back, giving Miss Stubborn space. She narrows her eyes at me, her jaw tightening. “I’m Andy,” she finally says when it starts to get awkward.
Louise can be annoying. A little too nice. Too in your face. She’s asked me out at least half a dozen times. Right now, I love Louise because she stretches her hand further towards Miss Stubborn. There is no way she gave her real name. Andy? Forget about it.
The gun leaves my crotch, and I have to hold back a sigh of relief. Miss Stubborn puts the gun in her lap and takes Louise’s outstretched hand.
Miss Stubborn’s other hand
is disappearing under the table. She strikes me as the type of woman who can handle a weapon with both hands, and easily. I happen to be fast. I’m not human. Miss Stubborn was right about that. I get to her gun before she does, so I’m assuming she is.
“It’s so lovely to meet you,” Louise says as she lets Not-Andy’s hand go.
Miss Stubborn makes this strange noise, then clears her throat, smiling back at Louise. “You too.”
“Did you come to the hospital today to surprise your man?” Louise asks.
“Um…yep…that’s exactly what happened.”
“My lady is full of surprises.” I chuckle. “Good thing I have a trick or two up my own sleeve, right sweetheart?”
“Seems that way,” Miss Stubborn says, her voice stilted.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say to Louise. I’m starting to get worried she might join us. That’s how she is. A pain in the ass. A gossip. Now that I have the gun, I need her gone.
“Oh yes, for that valve repair?” She lifts her brows.
“That’s right.” I smile broadly.
“See you then.” She turns back to Miss Stubborn. “Nice meeting you, Andy.”
“You too.” Not-Andy sounds bright and breezy. “I should probably get go—” She starts to get up.
I put my hand on her leg and squeeze her thigh. “Not so fast, babe,” I say. “I missed you today. We still have time.” I put the gun between her legs as Louise walks away. Two can play at this game. I don’t push the muzzle into her crotch, although I’m sorely tempted. I pull my chair a little closer, using my body. To the others around us, it would seem like we are lovers who can’t get enough of each other.
“Let me go, or I’ll start screaming,” Not-Andy says between clenched teeth.
Fuck that! I’m done being a nice guy.
She hisses as I push the gun deeper into her privates. The muzzle is now firmly against her pussy.
Miss Stubborn’s eyes widen. I see a flash of fear in her eyes before she schools the emotion. “What was that about this gun making big holes?” I ask her.
Lord of Life (The Dragon Demigods Book 4) Page 6
