by K. C. Wells
He could still hear that voice.
“What about you?” he asked. “Don’t you have any contacts, someone who might be able to help?”
“As soon as I finish talking to you, I’m going to wake up your father, and we’ll put our heads together.” She chuckled. “He won’t thank me in the morning when he’s grumpy and he has to go to work, but it’ll be worth it if we come up with something. You’re going back there tomorrow?”
“Yes. Though I’m not sure how much of this I can bring up in the interview. What if Anson is the one who’s imprisoned him?” Rael still couldn’t get over Dellan not being able to shift. It didn’t make sense.
“Sounds to me like someone has gone to a lot of trouble to keep Dellan’s disappearance out of the news. The last thing you should do is draw attention to yourself by mentioning what you know. Especially if you’re going in there at some point to rescue him.”
“Let’s leave the escape plans until after the interview, okay?” He wanted to see how things felt in the morning. More importantly, he wanted to get an idea of the kind of man Anson Prescott was.
“You’re not running away from this for some reason, are you?”
Rael had to be honest. Yes, he’d shied away from the idea initially, but she’d gotten through to him. Worn me down is nearer the truth. “No, I’m not,” he said sincerely. “But let’s see how tomorrow goes, all right?”
“Do you know what time it is?” Rael’s dad sounded pissed off and groggy in the background. “I can hear you yelling from the bedroom. For God’s sake, tell Rael to go to sleep, then come to bed.”
“Not until you and I have talked,” Mom said firmly. “Put the coffee on. You’re going to need it.”
Rael smiled as he caught his dad’s mutterings, something about it being a good thing he loved her. “I’ll leave you to it. Give Dad my love—and my apologies.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart. Get some sleep. Love you.”
“Love you too.” He disconnected. The thought occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten since his late-morning sub, but he was too wound up to think about calling down for food. He got off the bed, rummaged through his bag, and discovered a couple of protein bars. He ate each one in three bites, then headed for the swanky bathroom to brush his teeth.
The alarm set on his phone, Rael climbed into bed and prayed for a dreamless sleep.
VERONICA SMILED as she opened the panel for him. “Hello again. Mr. Prescott is waiting for you. I trust you spent a comfortable night?”
“The hotel was an excellent choice. Thank you again.” Rael followed her along the hallway and through the door into the main office. He glanced at the cage as they passed it, dismayed to find the tiger—Dellan—asleep, his back to Rael.
“He’s awesome, isn’t he?” A man stood in the doorway, sharply dressed, a coffee cup in his hand.
Rael gave him a polite smile. “I was admiring him yesterday.” He held out his hand as they drew closer. “Mr. Prescott? I’m Rael Parton.”
“Anson, please. Mr. Prescott sounds like you’re talking to my dad, God rest his soul.” Anson shook the proffered hand. “And my apologies for my absence yesterday. Unfortunately, I was called away on urgent business. Please, come in.” He stood aside and gestured to the office beyond the door.
Rael followed him in, Veronica behind him. Anson’s office was small compared to the vast space that housed the cage. There were two desks, one significantly larger than the other, a couple of filing cabinets, and a wall on which were several monitors. One other door stood at the rear.
Anson sat behind the larger desk, and Rael got a better look at him. He was of a similar height and build to Rael, but his hair and complexion were darker. Deep brown eyes focused intently on him, and Rael wondered what was going on behind them.
“Coffee? Tea? Water?”
Rael smiled at Veronica. “Coffee would be great, thank you.” He reached into his bag and removed his camera, along with his notes.
Anson grinned. “I didn’t think it would be long before we saw that. I’ve seen some of your work, Mr. Parton. Very impressive.”
Rael could be just as complimentary. “Not as impressive as what you’ve accomplished since you took over the running of Global Bio-Tech. You’ve taken the company to new heights.”
Anson gave a modest shrug. “It seems I have a flair for this business.”
“That would be a massive understatement. There are many large pharmaceutical companies out there, but few with such a positive reputation.”
Anson laughed. “What you really mean is, Global Bio-Tech isn’t included in all the usual big pharma conspiracy theories.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve heard them all, believe me. How there’s a cure for cancer, but it’s being suppressed. How pharmaceutical companies are fleecing people for meds that cost cents to produce. Well, not here. If there’s a cure for a major disease out there, and we find it, we’ll research and develop it, then put it on the market at a fair price. Medicine shouldn’t cost the earth.”
Despite his concerns, Rael couldn’t help but admire Anson’s stance. “That’s a refreshingly ethical viewpoint nowadays.”
Anson picked up a photo frame that stood on his desk. “It’s how I was brought up.” He gazed at the photo before turning it to reveal the face of Tom Prescott. “I hope wherever my dad is, he’s proud of what I’m achieving with the company he left in my care.”
His mom’s words of warning went right out of Rael’s head. That opening was too much to ignore.
“But didn’t he leave it to your half brother, Dellan Carson?” Rael asked with as innocent an air as he could muster.
Anson stilled. “I see you’ve done your homework.” He replaced the photo in its former position, then met Rael’s gaze. “Yes, my dad left the company to Dellan. I was given a seat on the board. It was felt at the time that I was too young for such a huge responsibility.”
“And yet here you are,” Rael observed.
Anson smiled broadly, visibly relaxing into his chair. “Here I am indeed. Obviously I’m better equipped to deal with the running of a major company than my youthful appearance would indicate. I may be only twenty-two but as you can see, Global Bio-Tech is flourishing in my tender care.”
Rael inhaled deeply, drawing Anson’s scent into his nostrils. The man was human, there was no doubt. “So if Dellan was left the company, how did you end up running it? If you don’t mind me asking.” His pulse sped up, but Rael did his best to appear calm.
Anson quirked his eyebrows. “I thought you were here to discuss what I’ve achieved, not delve into the family history.” Before Rael could respond, he waved his hand again. “It’s fine. You’re a journalist. Of course you’re curious. Who wouldn’t be? It’s very simple. My brother, Dellan—I do consider him my brother, not my half brother—decided that for the moment, his interests were leading him in other directions. So he took a sabbatical in order to explore those interests. He’s in Europe or Asia right now, looking into new ventures, confident that if I should need him at the helm, I would find him and bring him home. Not that I see any need to do such a thing.”
Rael had to admire the smoothness with which Anson lied. Europe or Asia, huh? Dellan is a good deal closer than that. “He obviously has faith in you.”
Anson smiled. “Which is exactly what he said in the letter he wrote to the board before he left.”
“It must be good to know you can call on him when—if—you need to. After all, you’ve lost both parents. At least you still have Dellan.”
For one brief moment, Anson’s eyes glistened, but then he blinked. “As you say. At least I still have Dellan.” He clasped his hands on the desk. “Now. How about we get on with the interview. Then you can take all the photos you want of our setup here. I’ve arranged a little guided tour so you get to see everything.”
“That sounds perfect.” Rael got out his phone and brought up the voice recorder before referring to his notes. “Okay. Let’s do this.” He
pushed aside the temptation to ask to see Dellan’s letter to the board. Not that seeing it would do anything but confirm what Rael’s instincts were telling him—Anson was not to be trusted.
And it still left one question unanswered. Why hadn’t Dellan shifted back into human form? There could only be one response—something was preventing him from shifting. But what?
That only raised more questions. Did Anson know Dellan was a shifter? Did he know the tiger in his office was his half brother? He’d had Dellan declared missing, sure, but that didn’t mean he knew Dellan’s current location. Maybe I’m maligning him. Maybe he’s being kept in the dark. Maybe someone else is responsible for keeping Dellan in his shifted form.
There were far too many maybes. And if Rael was going to make any attempt to free Dellan, he was going to need help.
“THANK YOU again.” Rael shook Anson’s hand. “I’ll send you the link when the article is published.”
“I look forward to reading it.”
Before Anson could return to his desk, Rael put out his hand to stop him. “One last request before I go? I’d love to get a shot of you and the tiger.”
Anson gave him a thin smile. “Sorry, but no. That might seem odd, but I have my reasons.”
Rael shrugged. “It was just an idea.”
Anson huffed. “That tiger has been exploited enough. Veronica will show you out.” Anson returned to his seat behind his desk, already peering at his monitor.
Rael gave a nod, then followed Veronica out of the inner office. As they passed the cage, a sudden movement caught his eyes, and he came to a halt. The tiger had left his tree and was walking toward him, head high.
“I think it likes you,” Veronica observed. “Usually it stays put.”
“It’s a he,” Rael corrected, moving toward the glass and crouching down, his palm pressed against the cool surface.
“You’re an expert in tigers? I had no idea.” Her tone spoke of amusement.
“Mr. Prescott referred to the tiger as he when I arrived here. I figure he should know. It’s his tiger, after all.” Rael didn’t look at her as he spoke but kept his gaze trained on the tiger’s noble face, admiring the velvety appearance of his nose, the pale green eyes with those same amber flecks he’d noticed in his dream, and those long, white whiskers.
He took a deep breath. Hello, Dellan.
No reaction.
Acutely aware that he didn’t have a clue what he was doing, Rael tried again, opening his mind as best he could. Dellan. That’s your name, remember?
The tiger shuddered, then pressed its nose against the glass. Yes. Dellan. I’m Dellan. He pulled back, gave a slow blink, and his pupils enlarged. You. Who are you?
Rael wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. Both hands were on the glass now, and Dellan brought a heavy paw up to one of them. Rael focused hard. I’m Rael. Rael.
Dellan lowered his paw. Rael.
Heat radiated through Rael’s chest, and the same tingling he’d experienced the previous day was back, only stronger. Rael couldn’t hold back his smile. Do you know who I am?
The tiger lay down, his front paws crossed, his gaze still fixed on Rael’s face. Then electricity jolted through Rael, and his heart pounded as Dellan projected one word.
Mate.
“Wow.” Veronica’s softly spoken exclamation broke through, and Rael blinked, the moment lost. Dellan got up, sauntered back to his tree, and climbed it gracefully to settle on his branch.
Rael got to his feet. “Wow?” His heart was still racing, his skin still tingling all over. It’s true. All of it. He couldn’t deny his body’s reaction to Dellan’s presence or the joy that had surged through him on hearing that simple word.
“I’ve never seen it—him—so animated.”
Rael smiled. “I’m good with animals,” he said truthfully. He had to get out of that building to someplace where he could let out his emotions. Where he could call his mom and hear her cry once more.
He had a mate. And he was going to get him out of there. Somehow.
Chapter Four
RAEL LEFT the building, his mind awash with various scenarios for getting Dellan out of there. Any doubts he’d had previously were washed away, replaced by the steely resolve to act. It wasn’t long, however, before he realized he was out of his depth. He couldn’t do this on his own. He needed help.
Professional help.
No way was he flying back home. He was going to stay put until this got sorted, one way or another. That meant finding a cheap place to stay, because he sure couldn’t afford the Langham’s prices. At least he’d checked out of there that morning. His stuff was in an overnight bag over his shoulder.
Rael looked for the nearest coffee shop, and as luck would have it, there was a Starbucks on the corner of the next block. He tugged his coat tightly around him, fending off the cold wind, and headed in that direction. Once inside, he ordered an Americano, then took the stairs to the upper floor, hoping to find a quiet corner. It was less crowded than downstairs, thank goodness, and most of the tables’ occupants were engrossed in whatever was on their laptop screens. Perfect.
Rael headed for the farthest corner, put down his coffee, and got out his phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Pierce. Rael rummaged through his bag and pulled out his notepad and a pen, then clicked on Call.
“Hey, stranger. Haven’t heard from you in a while.” Pierce sounded as cheerful as always. “How are things? You got plenty of work on right now?”
“Actually, I’m in the middle of a big project, and something’s come up. I need your help.”
“Hey, you got it.” Pierce’s manner went from jovial to brisk in a heartbeat. “Anything, man. You know it.”
Rael had met Pierce during a conference for journalists a couple of years ago. They’d gone out for a drink the first night, and when Pierce didn’t return from the restroom, Rael went looking for him, concerned. He found him in the alley behind the bar, trying to fight off three drunken guys who’d dragged him there. Rael plunged into the brawl, fists flying, and the guys fled. Pierce was a mess, so Rael took him to the emergency room and got him patched up. They’d remained friends ever since, exchanging news via email and text.
“You remember that kidnapping case you covered?”
Pierce laughed. “You mean the kidnapping case, don’t you? The one that made my name? How could I ever forget?”
Pierce had gotten information about a kidnapping in which a senator’s family was taken from their home at gunpoint. Pierce knew where the kidnappers had taken the wife and three kids and had passed the information on to the senator, who in turn hired an ex-military team to mount a rescue. Pierce had asked to go along, and surprisingly, the leader of the team agreed. The mission was a success, with all the victims returned to safety—and all the bad guys taken out.
“Who was the leader of the rescue team?”
“Horvan Kojik. Not a man you’d easily forget, believe me.” Pierce chuckled. “Come to think of it, his whole team was pretty memorable.”
“How do you spell that surname?” Rael wrote carefully as Pierce spelled it out. “Do you know where he’s based? I need to contact him.”
There was silence for a moment. “And if I want to know why you need to see him?”
“Sorry. I can’t share that right now.” That was way too complicated. “Let’s just say I’ve got a missing person case of my own, and I need his help.”
“Got it. Let me find his contact details. I didn’t have a number for him, but I think he’s living in Indiana someplace.”
Rael heaved an internal sigh of relief. Close enough to Chicago that Rael could go see this Horvan—assuming he could help. He waited while Pierce sought the details. Based on what he could remember from Pierce’s article, the team had comprised several ex-military guys with specific, impressive skills. He also recalled they’d been well paid by the senator.
I wonder how he’d feel about doing this for free. Rael’s stomac
h clenched. This could all be over before it even started.
“Okay, I’ve found an email address. It’s not in his name, but it’s the one I used to get in touch initially. I’ve sent it to you.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more, but—”
“Don’t sweat it. I understand. I hope it works out for you.” Pierce’s voice was warm. “I still owe ya. Seriously.”
“I’m just glad I was there.”
Pierce snickered. “And I’m glad you’re so handy with your fists. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
Rael thanked him again, then disconnected. Since all he had was an email address, his initial message had better be intriguing as hell if he was going to get this Horvan interested enough to reply. He sipped his coffee and scribbled down a few ideas, adding and deleting phrases. By the time he’d finished his coffee, he had the message as damn near perfect as he could get it.
To Horvan Kojik
I hear you’re a man who can get into hard places.
Well, I have a challenge for you.
I want you to help me in a near-impossible rescue.
There’s a tiger in a glass cage, on the top floor of a Chicago skyscraper, and I want you to help me get it out of there.
If you think you’re up to it.
Let’s see.
You’ve got my contact details. Use them.
Rael Parton
Photojournalist
If this doesn’t get him interested, nothing will.
Rael typed the message, then checked it three times. He added his phone number at the bottom, then hesitated.
Am I crazy doing this?
He pushed the thought aside. Dellan needed him. That left him no other option. Rael hit Send.
He went downstairs and ordered another coffee; only this time he added a pastry. Then he went back upstairs and began the online search for another hotel. He had no idea how long he’d be staying in Chicago. That would depend on the result of his email.
He’d found a couple of possibilities when his phone rang. The screen said Unknown Caller, and his heartbeat sped up. It can’t be. Not that fast. His finger trembled as he clicked on Answer. “Hello?”