by Juniper Hart
“Just keeping you updated and…”
“And?”
“I might need your resources,” Liv finished, knowing that there was no easy way to tell him what she expected of him.
“Such as?”
“I’m going to need a team,” she murmured, sensing that the other members of the response unit were leaving the boardroom. “Bears. Males.”
She heard him suck in a breath.
“I see,” he muttered. “Let me see what I can do.”
“It’s for the good of the Cabal,” she reminded him quickly. “The sooner we isolate this threat, the sooner everyone will get home.”
“I’ll speak to them.”
He disconnected the call and Liv punched at the elevator button, eager to be gone before she was forced to share the lift with any of the team. It was difficult to believe that she had been working with these imbeciles for half a century and none of them had been replaced.
Then again, she hadn’t moved up either.
One day, I’ll be part of the Cabal too, she thought with conviction. I just need to put in my dues like everyone else, build my power and money. Then I’ll be the one taking phone calls from my underlings.
The stainless-steel doors opened and Liv hurried inside, watching as Carlton strode purposefully toward her. She pressed the “close door” button and watched his face twist into a scowl as she left him on the floor.
One day, she promised herself. But for now, I’ll keep putting out fires for my superiors.
She tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the lift to take her the eighty-six floors down to the lobby, and when she finally found herself free of the building she visited monthly with the same bunch of incompetents, Liv had an inspiration.
“Shall I call a car service for you, Ms. Hemmingway?” the concierge asked from where he sat at the desk. Liv flashed him an impersonal smile and shook her head.
“No, Harry, thank you. I think I’m going shopping.”
“Shopping?” the guard asked with as much interest as he could muster. “Special occasion?”
Liv’s smile widened.
“Yes,” she replied. “I’m going on a little vacation.”
“Oh? To where?”
Liv eyed him, unsure if she should disclose much more than she had, but Harry was merely a clueless human. He didn’t understand the first thing about what was happening right before his eyes.
“Colombia,” she replied. “Bogota, in fact.”
“With your boyfriend, I hope,” Harry said nervously. The assumption angered Liv but she wisely held her temper in check.
“I’m single, Harry,” she told him, ready to show him her back. “Are you hitting on me?”
The middle-aged man shook his graying head, his face twisting in embarrassment.
“No, nothing like that,” he promised, his shame filling Liv with some perverse glee. “I hear it’s dangerous, miss. You should probably rethink the location.”
A smile quirked the corners of Liv’s lips and she nodded.
“Thanks for the advice,” she told him, spinning away from the desk.
Lucky for me, I love danger, she added silently. That’s why I work for Lucien Wilder. Because I stop at nothing.
3
Dealing with insurance in Bogota was like teaching a cat how to herd cattle. Damon hadn’t wished to contact the compound again until his vehicle had been stolen but for once, he wished he had someone from home he could connect with to get him through the process.
If you can’t deal with this, how the hell are you going to deal with being activated? he thought, annoyed with himself. As he had suspected, the police all but laughed in his face when he went to file a complaint.
“You shouldn’t be flashing your good fortune around, amigo,” the sub-lieutenant who took his report chuckled. Damon was sure the paperwork had gone directly in the trash afterward. The thought of following up didn’t even occur to him. What bothered him the most was not the fact that the car had been stolen but that he was encompassed in a feeling of helplessness, one that he knew all too well.
It’s like being at home under my father again, he thought furiously. As much as he wanted to, Damon couldn’t let it go.
“You’re supposed to be flirting with las primas de Ana,” Miguel chided him. “They’re all making eyes at you and you’re brooding into your beer.”
Damon looked at his friend, slowly coming in tune with the festivities around him. Music blasted through someone’s iPod, a merry, upbeat version of rap rancheros that filled the yard over the din of voices. The “get-together” that Miguel had promised was a full-fledged party, including half the neighborhood and every family member that both his friend and Ana could cram into the tiny courtyard behind their house. More people spilled through the bungalow and out the front. Through his peripheral vision, Damon saw Ana’s cousins openly trying to catch his attention. He forced a smile and nodded at his friend.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about something.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re still stressed about that car,” Miguel groaned, slapping another beer into his hand. “You don’t have a hope of getting it back. I could have told you that la policia were going to laugh you out of the station.”
Damon wished he had known that before he’d embarrassed himself.
“No, I know that,” Damon conceded quickly and he did. He had no hopes of seeing that beloved red Renault again. That wasn’t something he was considering. What he was considering was something even more aggravating.
“Come on, pendejo. This is a fiesta. Go talk to Mari before she falls over gawking at you,” Miguel urged, half-pushing him toward one of Ana’s cousins. Damon didn’t resist the encouragement. Miguel had been right—Ana’s cousins were very attractive. As Damon ambled toward the pair, he watched their smiles widen. For a second, he caught the flash of an incisor elongating inside Mari’s mouth, but it was gone before he could be sure.
“Hola, guapo,” the auburn-haired cousin cooed as he paused before them. “We were wondering when you were going to come say hello.”
Damon cast them an apologetic smile and winked.
“I’m clearly slow,” he joked and they both laughed, flanking either side of him. Already, Damon could feel the tension brewing between the two women as they vied for his attention.
“Let me get you something to eat,” Essa suggested.
“Si, go,” Mari agreed, flipping her reddish mane coyly. Essa scowled, suddenly uncertain of her decision, and hesitated, watching her cousin with Damon.
“So Damon,” Mari purred, putting a hand on his muscled arm and deliberately turning him away from Essa. “Tell me all about yourself. Where did you live before moving to Bogota?”
Damon could sense the anger mounting inside Essa, even without looking over his shoulder.
Why do I have the feeling that a fight is about to break out? he thought, reluctantly allowing himself to be led away with Mari.
“Well?” Mari insisted when he didn’t answer. “I want to know everything about you.”
Damon cleared his throat and took a swig of his beer before answering. The bluntness of the question was slightly off-putting but he didn’t want to insult her.
“I’m from Barranquilla,” he said, remembering his cover story. It had been a few months since anyone had asked his past and Damon was feeling slightly out of his element suddenly. “I came here about four months ago.”
I really do need to be more social, if only to maintain my cover, Damon thought grimly.
“I thought your accent was strange,” Mari chuckled. “I said that to Miguel. They speak funny in the north, verdad?”
Damon tensed. He’d never been told that his accent was off before and the thought made him nervous.
I’ll need to work on it, he thought grimly. If Mari can tell within minutes of meeting me, anyone will notice.
“Here. Empanadas.” A plate was abruptly thrust into his hands and Damon looked up in surprise
as Essa returned. Mari scowled angrily.
“Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a conversation?” she snapped. “Come back later.”
“I told you I was going to get him some food,” Essa shot back. “He’s hungry, aren’t you, Damon?”
She put a hand on his muscled chest and fluttered her eyelashes in a becoming way but suddenly, Damon wasn’t sure he wanted to be in the middle of this growing conflict.
He accepted the plate and gave her a wan smile.
“Si, gracias,” he agreed, taking a bite of an empanada before he was forced to answer anything else.
“Piss off, Essa,” Mari insisted, ire shooting through her eyes.
“Make me.”
The two females stood inches apart, their noses almost touching.
Oh no…
Damon’s gut flipped as he saw the scene unfold before his eyes. Essa shifted first, without much warning, charging at her cousin to knock her over with massive, white paws. For a moment, Damon was stunned by the beauty of the bear that Essa became. He’d never quite seen one her shade of cream before.
The awe was short-lived. Mari turned too, her own brown fur clashing against the outstretched claws of her cousin, and the two fell into a tumbling mess on the lawn.
I can’t be here for this, Damon thought, backing away from the scene, his training flooding him in a torrent.
As the family and friends of the cousins gathered about to stop the two from fighting, Damon ducked out of the courtyard and into the street, the traces of music still floating into his ears as he moved.
He wasn’t sure if Miguel had seen him leave but it didn’t matter. He knew that he couldn’t be caught up in the middle of drama, for the sake of the mission.
Damon paused on the curbside and looked down the road. Miguel wasn’t the only one having a party that night. Half the street seemed to have a celebration of sorts going on but Damon knew that was typical weekend behavior for the good citizens of Bogota. Their philosophy had always been “work hard, play harder” and Damon would be hard-pressed to find a quiet Saturday night.
The scuffle was still happening inside Miguel’s house, made apparent by the loud shrieks and growls that followed his ears. He had to put some distance between himself and that house, lest the police showed up.
Walking toward the bus stop, Damon barely noticed the small crowd of men at the far end of the street until he was upon them. They all turned to him, teeth bared in unison. Instantly, he realized he’d walked into gang territory.
“Que paso, puto?” one man growled, stepping forward. He had yet to shift but Damon could tell he was looking for trouble.
“Nada me pasa,” he assured them, spinning back in the direction he’d come. He wasn’t about to confront the group, not on his own when he had no idea what he was dealing with. His senses were on high alert as he expected to be followed but to his relief, the gang went about their business as Damon slipped into the shadows. It was only when he was sure they were no longer watching that he stopped to look at them, his car fresh on his mind again.
There was little doubt that his car had been taken by one of the local gang kids but it was impossible to know if these bears were in the same gang or not. Damon simply didn’t know enough about the ins and outs of the situation.
But he was learning.
There were two leading bear crews that ran Bogota: Los Orsos Negro and Los Asesinos. From where Damon watched, he gauged the gold and black of the men near the bus stop as Asesinos. Los Orsos tended to wear red and blue. From what Pedro, the bar drunk, had said, the boys who had taken the vehicle were certainly members of Los Asesinos but beyond that, he had little to add. Pedro didn’t want to get involved and Damon didn’t blame him.
Why was he getting involved? He needed to leave it alone. No good would come of this.
The truth was, he had no answer. He knew he should be minding his own business, living a quiet, unassuming life, but he was like a dog with a bone on the matter. He’d finally managed to free himself of his father’s grasp, only to be rendered helpless by another group, and Damon wasn’t about to let it slide.
But tonight, Damon? he scolded himself. He was already a few drinks in and while his healing properties allowed him to process alcohol at a much faster rate than, say, humans, he was still not completely clear-headed. Yet that didn’t stop him from observing the men on the corner. Whatever they were up to, it was clear they didn’t want any interruptions—not that Damon intended to intervene again.
I’m just gathering intel, he justified, slipping further back against the sidewalk. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, even with his acute sense of hearing, but he reasoned it didn’t much matter. His mind was racing, wondering if they would eventually lead him back to the headquarters. The thought was crazy and even then, he knew it. Even if he trailed them and they did take him exactly to the center of their operations, what would he do? What could he do? He still wasn’t sure which punk had taken his car and if he did, would he really risk everything to confront the kids?
Probably not.
Still, he remained stock-still until they finally dispersed in separate directions. Damon kept his eyes fixed on the one who had confronted him but as he stepped forward to follow the assumed leader, a flash of headlights caused him to freeze. His eyes shot toward the unexpected brightness and instantly adjusted to the small car in the alley next to the street. Abruptly, his heart jumped when his gaze rested on the woman behind the wheel, her own stare fixed firmly on the parting group leader.
From where he stood, he could make out the classic lines of her profile, the high cheekbones and cat-slant eyes. Her blonde mane was swept up into a loose chignon at the back of her neck.
The Kia shot forward but drove slowly, clearly chasing after the departing gang member. He stared after her in disbelief, his mind working overtime.
Did she see him?
Yet as he questioned her presence, he knew that the notion didn’t make sense. The blonde hadn’t even looked in his direction. She was definitely there for the gang.
But why?
Damon remained in place, his pulse racing wildly. He didn’t understand the implication of the woman watching but he knew in his gut that he couldn’t let her get away.
Yet as he stepped out of the shadows, ready to sprint, he heard Miguel call out his name.
Shit!
He whirled about as his friend headed toward him, shaking his head.
“I thought you’d run for the hills,” Miguel laughed, hurrying to join him. “You weren’t leaving without saying goodbye, were you?”
Damon forced a smile and shook his head.
“No. I was just clearing my head,” he muttered, casually looking over his shoulder. The Kia and the mystery woman were long gone, along with the man from the gang.
“Sorry about Mari and Essa,” Miguel sighed, looking pained. “I tried to warn you that they’re crazy.”
Damon chuckled but there was little mirth in it. His mind was still firmly on the woman, whoever she was.
4
Liv’s teal eyes trailed to the rearview mirror of the rented Kia, the hairs on the back of her neck raised.
What was that all about?
The feeling had struck her suddenly, like an acute sense of alarm, but the sensation was different somehow, less…intrusive. It was akin to being watched but not like Anders stared at her in the boardroom meetings.
She saw nothing behind her, much as she expected to, and continued to follow Santiago Cruz at a fair distance. She dismissed the eerie thought, realizing that she was going stir crazy from isolation. For three days, she had been tailing Los Asesinos in their various forms, learning who would be most worthy of her time to approach. All day she spent spying on the various groups from afar only to return to her shoddy apartment in Cerro de Monserrate. It was all part of a bigger picture, but Liv was getting antsy to act and she was far from stupid. She had known from the beginning that this affair was bound to take t
ime.
The thing she had gleaned over the past few days was that Santiago Cruz was the man she wanted, her other operative already set up to infiltrate other crews. She had not gotten the five bears she’d asked for but three were better than none.
Under my guidance, we’ll be done with this job and back home in no time, Liv thought confidently. And she would be that much closer to being part of the Cabal as she’d always dreamed.
When I tie this up, Lucien will have no choice but to admit that I’m too good to be just middle management. I’ve earned my spot at the big kids’ table now.
How many years had she bided her time to be part of their inner circle? It seemed impossible to remember when she had first been recruited. Certainly before the original wars had started, over a century ago.
Her eyes narrowed as Santiago ducked into an alleyway. Pursing her lips, Liv knew she should follow him on foot but given the time of night, she realized she’d be asking for trouble in that neighborhood. Her Spanish was not as good as it should have been, but she didn’t care. She could get by and understand more than enough. For the role she was playing, she didn’t need the linguistics down to a science.
Pulling to the curb, she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, unsure of how to proceed. Her instinct was to follow but a warning shot rang out in her mind, warning her that it was not the wisest course of action.
For a moment, she debated.
I know where he lives now, she mused. I just don’t have any semblance of a routine down for him. If I’m going to approach him, I need to figure out the best window of opportunity.
Sighing, she pulled the keys out of the ignition and slid out of the passenger seat, quickening her steps to relocate Santiago.
This wasn’t an area she’d seen him come before and as she wound herself through the alleyways, trying to get a track on his scent, Liv realized she was lost.
Dammit! she cursed to herself, spinning around to retreat to her vehicle. She almost ran into a towering figure directly behind her. Startled, Liv stepped back, her eyes flashing with annoyance as her heart began to thrum. She hadn’t heard the bear come up on her.