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Kiss of Death (Supernatural Security Force Book 1)

Page 9

by Heather Hildenbrand


  “What about you?” he asked.

  “Nissan GT-R. Nismo. Royal blue.” I almost drooled thinking about it.

  Tony grinned. “Does the club know you plan to ditch their Acura line?”

  “The club probably thinks I deserted,” I said with a shrug.

  “You didn’t tell them you were recruited?” he asked.

  “My mechanic knows, but he’s sworn to secrecy. The supes around that scene aren’t exactly the kind who would support this career choice,” I said. “Not to mention, my badge will mean I can bust them for illegal racing when I get out of here.”

  “Good point,” he agreed.

  “Next you’ll tell me you joined up just to get out of all the speeding tickets,” Milo said.

  “It doesn’t hurt,” I admitted.

  Tony grinned. “The perks of law enforcement, eh?”

  I grinned back. “Damn right.”

  Milo rolled his eyes. “You guys are ridiculous.”

  “Don’t give me those judgy eyes,” I said. “You’re the one who told me you’re going to use your badge to cancel your parking ticket debt.”

  “That meter maid has it out for me.”

  Tony and I shared a look.

  “Fine,” Milo said. “If you must know, I also plan to use my badge to intimidate all the little shits who think they run my neighborhood.”

  “Your badge doesn’t get you off the hook for beating up little kids,” I warned.

  “No, but it lets me confiscate their booze and e-cigs, and that’s basically the same thing.”

  “Hey, Hawkins.”

  I looked up at the sound of my name. “Yeah?”

  Desmond, a broad-shouldered werewolf, nodded at me, a tray balanced in one hand as he passed our table. I recognized him from my demon-hunting class. We hadn’t talked much, but then I wasn’t much for talking when I could be working toward proving myself.

  “Nice job in the arena today. That Brax demon was no joke, but you handled yourself.”

  “Thanks.”

  The guy lingered like he wanted to say more then finally sauntered off.

  Milo rolled his eyes at me.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “He likes you,” Milo said.

  “Desmond?” I frowned. “He was just congratulating me on not getting impaled by a razor claw. I hardly think that means he’s smitten.”

  “First of all, no one says smitten anymore.”

  I scoffed, but Milo looked to Tony for confirmation.

  “He’s right,” Tony said around a mouthful of steak.

  “Whatever. Desmond’s just a friend,” I said.

  “But he could be more,” Milo said.

  “Could be but won’t,” I said.

  “Have you taken a vow of celibacy I don’t know about?” Milo demanded.

  “No. I just have other priorities right now.”

  “Like finding out who killed your dad?” Tony asked.

  I frowned. “How do you know about that?”

  Tony hesitated.

  “Sweetie, everyone knows about that,” Milo said gently.

  I sighed. He was right. I was the one pretending here. Gossip was bound to have circulated by now. I saw it in the way the other instructors treated me. Some had singled me out, calling on me for answers more than the others. Most had overcompensated by ignoring me. A couple of them, like Kinrade, had made it clear they didn’t plan to let me through on my father’s reputation alone and had given me extra homework almost every day now.

  Fine by me. I was nearly top of my class with or without my dad’s legacy. And I didn’t care how the other students saw me, but it wasn’t fair to keep lying to my friends.

  “The truth is my dad was murdered, and the report they gave was a joke. Every time I pushed for more, they fed me a line and then went back to ignoring the whole thing. So, I decided to get answers for myself.”

  “That’s why you joined the agency,” Milo said. “For its resources.”

  “And to get access to the people who knew him,” I admitted, thinking of Raphziel. Not that he’d ever give me the answers I wanted.

  “Damn, it’s a long game you’re playing.” Tony said the words like they were a warning.

  “I’ve got time. My dad didn’t though, and I think there’s someone out there who knows what really happened.”

  “I’m sorry about your dad, Gem,” Milo said. “It must have been really hard.”

  “My mom took it pretty rough,” I said. “Losing her mate has really been hard on her. Knowing what happened will help ease some of it. For both of us.”

  “I get it,” Milo said. “My mom had it rough when my old man left, and he was just a human with a commitment problem. Fae mating bonds are intense.”

  “Family’s important,” Tony agreed. “My sister’s all I’ve got, but I’d do anything for her. Including slaying some demons.”

  “Thanks for understanding,” I told them.

  “But listen,” Milo continued, “You can’t just give up living your life. I didn’t know your dad, but I doubt he would want that for you.”

  “I’m not giving up,” I said.

  “Bull shit. What about the driving?” Milo challenged.

  “I can always go back to that.”

  “And all your friends? Aren’t there people you left behind?”

  “I have Lila, my boss at the Sandwich Shop,” I admitted. “But it’s not like I’ll never see her again. In fact, it’s safer this way. If I never eat another sandwich, I’ll die happy.”

  “What do you have against sandwiches?” Milo asked.

  “Have you ever tried a molasses turkey melt on waffle bread?”

  Milo made a face. “I think I’ll pass.”

  Tony rubbed his chin. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

  “Even better,” I said. “I volunteer you to be her guinea pig next time she asks.”

  “Cool.” He nodded.

  I laughed and went back to my veggie burger, glad we’d moved back toward a less serious topic.

  When I looked up again, Milo was watching me with narrowed eyes.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “Two more males just walked by and checked you out like they were on a deserted island and you were a last meal.”

  “For the last time, I’m not interested. And stop looking at me like that,” I said.

  “I can’t help it. I’ve never seen someone so averse to getting laid before.”

  Tony snorted.

  I glared at them both. “I don’t know, you two seem to be giving me a run for my money.”

  Milo scowled.

  “We don’t get outside privileges for another month,” Tony pointed out.

  I gestured to the crowded dining hall. “Plenty of choices right here.”

  Milo looked at Tony longingly.

  Tony shook his head. “Not happening. Fraternizing among recruits will get you booted.”

  “Exactly,” I pointed out. “Which is why Desmond is—”

  “Green.” Milo’s expression froze as he stared out ahead.

  “What?” I frowned. “No, he’s off-limits—”

  “No, he’s literally green. What the hell?”

  I followed his horrified gaze and saw Desmond standing two tables over. He clawed at his arms, which were currently lime green, his eyes wide in horror.

  Another recruit stood and said something to him, but Desmond shook his head and backed away. A staff member approached but Desmond shouted at him then turned and ran from the dining hall.

  The staff member hurried after him.

  Everyone stared in silence at the door Desmond had exited.

  Slowly, the quiet that had fallen over the room was replaced with a growing hum of voices.

  I looked back at Milo and Tony, all three of us wearing matching faces of confusion.

  “Does anyone know what the hell just happened?” Milo asked.

  Tony and I both shook our heads.

  “I can’t say I’ve
ever seen that before,” I said.

  But Tony’s confusion shifted toward contemplation. His brow furrowed.

  “What is it?” Milo prompted.

  “Not sure. I saw something on Professor Wayne’s desk the other day. Some internal memo regarding the city’s demon activity.”

  “What does the city’s demon activity have to do with Desmond turning green?”

  “I don’t know,” Tony admitted. “Most of the report was redacted. But from what I could gather, there was some incident involving an undocumented demon. The agent who went up against it exhibited strange symptoms in the weeks following.”

  “What kind of symptoms?” I asked.

  “Some behavioral stuff. Paranoia and mood swings. But the report also listed skin discolorations.”

  “What kind of demon was it?” I asked, intrigued.

  “It didn’t say. Or if it did, that part had been classified.”

  “You still have a copy of the article?” I asked.

  “I can get it.”

  “Mind if I take a look?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. But there isn’t much else legible besides what I’ve just told you.”

  “Maybe there’s a reference listed that’ll tell us where we can find out more,” I said.

  Or maybe my fae magic could un-redact some of it—like I’d done with my father’s investigation reports. I didn’t want to get their hopes up though. Especially since even attempting that would mean doing it under the noses of our instructors—which was the only time they gave us our magic back long enough for me to try.

  “I don’t get it,” Milo said. “The only demons we train with here are level three and below. In the last eighteen months, only a handful of fours and fives have been spotted anywhere in the country. And none of them have the power to turn a guy green.” He turned to me. “You said you guys trained on a Brax demon today?”

  “Yeah. But Desmond didn’t have contact with it. Far as I could tell, he put the thing down with his magic from ten feet away.”

  “Guess it’s a mystery.” He shot me a look. “Unless you decided to ask him directly.” He smirked. “I bet he’d tell you.”

  “First, you assume I care enough to find out.”

  His eyes gleamed with smugness. “Of course you care. It’s about demons. And agents. And possible conspiracies. This is right up your alley.”

  Dammit, he was right.

  “Fine,” I said. “I’ll talk to Desmond.”

  Milo grinned. “I knew it.”

  “Ugh. You’re such a pain in the ass when you’re right.”

  After dinner, I asked around and found Desmond’s room farther down my own hallway. I knocked but no one answered. Looking around to be sure the coast was clear, I turned the knob and poked my head inside. The bed sat unmade and clothes littered the floor. No sign of Desmond.

  Returning to my room, I kept my door open and one eye on the recruits that passed through our hall, but Desmond never passed by. The more I thought about what had happened in the dining hall, the less it made sense. No one had ever reported skin changes caused by demon contact. Poison, yes. Slime, sure. Lizard-skin, no.

  It didn’t add up.

  First thing the next morning, I made my way to the clinic and found Leslie at her desk.

  “Hi, Gem. What can I do for you? Feeling all right?”

  “Feeling great. I was wondering about another recruit who came in last night. Desmond Ayers.”

  She smiled blankly. “I’m not sure I know that name. Is he a new recruit?”

  “Uh, not really. He’s been here as long as I have. His skin turned green during dinner last night. I assumed he came to see you.”

  “Green? Well, that is memorable. But I’m afraid he didn’t come through the clinic. I was here all night and only treated a mild headache for one of the female recruits.”

  I tried to think of where else Desmond would have gone in his state, but nothing came to mind.

  “Right, I’m sure I’m just confused,” I said, and Leslie smiled as I let myself out.

  The rest of my day was packed with physical conditioning and weapons instruction. Desmond wasn’t in the training arena that afternoon, and I finally got curious enough to track down Rodrigo to ask about him. I waited until after class, making sure to note what kind of demons everyone was paired with and what elimination methods they used to take them out.

  None of the demons were known for causing skin problems.

  When class ended, I hung back and waited until the others had mostly filed out before catching up with Rodrigo.

  “Hey, I was wondering about Desmond Ayers,” I said.

  “What about him?” Rodrigo’s eyes lingered on my fitted tank, and I bit back irritation.

  “He turned green at dinner last night,” I said pointedly.

  Rodrigo’s eyes snapped to mine. Carefully blank. “Right. He ate something that didn’t sit well and got a little sick. He’s fine now.”

  “He wasn’t in class all day,” I pointed out.

  “A day in the clinic. Doctor’s orders.”

  “Funny. I was there this morning and the place was empty. Leslie never saw him.”

  Rodrigo’s eyes narrowed as he snapped, “The status of another recruit is none of your business, Hawkins. Eyes on your own paper, understand?”

  “What kind of demon can turn a person green?” I pushed.

  Rodrigo’s face reddened, and I knew I’d gone too far.

  “Maybe you’re not hearing me, recruit.” His mouth cinched into a hard line. “Tell you what, you can spend the next week working the kitchen line. Maybe that’ll give you a better understanding of how much our food choices affect our bodies.”

  My shoulders slumped.

  His gaze roamed my body in a way that made my skin crawl. “Of course your meals have already done your body good.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ll report to the kitchen.”

  His mouth lifted in invitation. “You’re welcome to work off your community service another way if you prefer.”

  I pinned him with a hard look and swallowed back all the vile words I didn’t dare say for fear of getting booted. “I’d rather turn green.”

  Chapter Eleven

  A week later, my kitchen penance was complete but Desmond still hadn’t returned. Tony’s redacted memo provided little else in the way of information; even my fae magic couldn’t reveal what the agency gurus had apparently worked so hard to hide.

  I focused on training, but every night before bed, I pulled out my contraband phone and listened to the last voice mail my father ever sent. I was still no closer to figuring out what really happened but listening to his voice reminded me why I’d come. And why I was putting up with all the bull shit that came with becoming an agent.

  Halfway through the message, my door opened and Milo walked in.

  I paused the audio and slid the phone quickly away. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

  “That’s funny. Because it looks like you smuggled in a cell phone and use it to replay your dad’s last voice mail before he died.”

  “Okay, fine.” I blew out a breath. “It’s exactly what it looks like. But I haven’t made any calls out, I swear.”

  “Relax. I’m not going to tell anyone about your phone. It’s not like I haven’t known about it for weeks anyway.”

  My eyes widened. “You knew? How?”

  “Gem, darling, you continue to underestimate me.” He sat on my bed and tossed a file at me. “Here. I brought you a present.”

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it and find out.”

  I peeled open the file, and my eyes widened as I read the contents.

  “This is the memo Tony gave me,” I said, noting the familiar headline. Then my eyes caught on the rest of it. “It’s unredacted.”

  “You’re welcome,” Milo said with a self-satisfied smirk.

  I looked down at the report again, and sure as shit, the blackout had been removed to revea
l the full report. “How did you do it?”

  He shrugged. “I know people.”

  “Uh-huh.” Clearly, considering fae magic hadn’t been enough to lift the spell hiding the words.

  I studied him closer.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “I don’t like what happened to Desmond, but I don’t like what happened to your dad even more. You’re sad, Gem. Grieving. And my heart hurts for you.” He shrugged. “I wanted to help.”

  I bit my lip, touched by how much he’d noticed, especially when I’d done my best to hide it from them all.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t talked about it,” I said quietly.

  “You have nothing to apologize for. Anyway, since I can’t help ease that pain, I wanted to help solve the mystery of what happened to Desmond. And look at the third paragraph down. I think what’s in that report might shed some light on what we saw.”

  I scanned the write-up quickly, my shock growing with each new sentence.

  When I was done, I looked up at Milo with wide eyes.

  “This could change everything,” I said.

  He nodded, his usual cheerful expression full of warning.

  “This proves there are uncatalogued demons,” he said. “Creatures we’ve never seen before. And the agency knows about them.”

  “One of them got to Desmond,” I said, noting the article’s write-up about an unknown demon whose touch turned its victims green.

  “It doesn’t say whether the effects are reversible, but it does explain what we saw.”

  “Milo, this is . . . I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t need to say anything. I just wanted you to know you can trust me.”

  I blinked back a sheen of tears. “I do trust you. And I do want to say something. Actually, I want to tell you everything.”

  In a quiet voice, I told him what had happened to my father, including the agency’s reaction to it all.

  “They tried to tell you a level one had taken him out?” he said when I got to the part about the bogus reports they gave us.

  “Not only was my dad way too good at his job to get taken out by a non-lethal demon, he didn’t have a mark on him when they found his body.”

  “What do you mean? No bites?”

  “No bites, no stab wounds, no broken skin. Nothing.”

 

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