by Juniper Hart
“I am. I’ll see you manana,” Damon promised, refocusing his eyes on the wood in front of him.
“Don’t stay too long,” Miguel cautioned him. “You know—”
“You’re beginning to sound like my mother,” Damon warned him without turning. He held up a nail and drove it home with a hammer, drowning out the sound of Miguel’s protest.
“Pendejo,” Miguel laughed. “Hasta manana pues.”
“Hasta luego.”
Damon didn’t bother to watch as Miguel and the other workers shuffled off the site, their post-work chatter drifting unheard past his ears. It was the first time in days that he had really been fixed on the project in front of him, thoughts of Olivia not plaguing him at every turn. It wasn’t that he didn’t still envision her profile in his mind’s eye when his eyes closed at night, but he realized that he was clinging to a dream. Assuming that the American demon was still in the country, Bogota was too big a city. Damon had met her by chance, and he knew he needed to let her go, no matter how much it weighed on him.
The loud pounding of the hammer seemed deafening without his coworkers around him and before he realized what was happening, night had fully fallen over the site. Damon groaned to himself and looked toward the tool shed, debating whether to get the lamps and keep going. Miguel’s words echoed in his mind and he ground his teeth slightly.
He should just go home.
With a deep sigh, he picked up his tools and made his way toward the shed to lock up. Dropping everything inside, he turned to secure the door but at the last possible second, he caught the shadow coming down on him.
Damon rolled out of the way as the bear pounced, snarling. In a flash, he was on all fours, releasing a warning growl of his own. The two beasts faced off, their eyes locking.
“Walk away, amigo,” the gray beast hissed at Damon. “You don’t own this stuff.”
This was a robbery. Another one.
The memory of his car resurfaced in a flash and he snarled, lunging toward the gray animal. Surprised, the bear tumbled back, crashing into the metal frame of the shed and creating a loud boom that echoed through the site.
“Why are you being stupid?” the thieving bear hissed. “You want to get killed?”
“I want you and your friends to keep their hands to themselves!” Damon barked back. His claw extended and he slashed at the bear beneath him, causing a deep gash over his face. “And stop taking shit that doesn’t belong to you.”
“Hey!” someone yelled from the street. “What’s going on over there?”
Whimpering, the gray bear wriggled out from under Damon, slinking into the shadows to shift into his human form before sprinting toward the road. As the street voice neared, Damon also morphed into his human frame, his eyes locked on the assailant, but before he could sprint after him, more movement caught his attention.
What the hell? No, it can’t be…
In disbelief, he watched as a car pulled up at the road, the back door opening for the sandy-haired man to climb inside.
That’s my car! Damon thought in utter shock, consternation filling his bones. But that wasn’t the worst of it, not by a long shot.
As the vehicle sped up, a pair of teal eyes peered toward him from the front passenger side, the face around them unmistakable. He had seen that same profile in his dreams every night for almost a week now. He had memorized every detail of her face.
Olivia.
Confusion and disappointment almost brought him to his knees as the good Samaritan from the road approached him.
“Are you okay?” the man asked, looking Damon over with worry. “Was that guy trying to rob you?”
Damon could barely meet his eyes, his head swimming with dismay.
He was imagining things. That couldn’t be what he thought it was…
Yet no matter how much he tried to downplay it, he knew what he’d seen.
“Hey, man, do you need a hospital or something? Did he take something from you?” the human asked, worry etching his words.
It was only then that Damon turned and met the man’s eyes with an odd dullness.
“Yes,” he muttered. “He did.”
He definitely took something from me, Damon thought furiously.
And now Damon knew he had to get it back. Except that he wasn’t sure if he meant his car or Olivia in that moment.
6
Liv cringed and settled into the seat, barely believing her luck.
That wasn’t Damon, she thought. It couldn’t have been. He’s just been on your brain so much, you thought it was him.
Yet she knew she would recognize him anywhere, under any circumstance. She wondered if he’d seen her but it was a quick thought. The look of disbelief on his face would surely be etched into her mind forever now.
“Que paso?” Roderigo demanded as the car zoomed away from the scene, Joaquin still panting in the backseat. The driver turned to look at his friend.
“The worker fought me off,” Joaquin whined, sitting up straight to look at the driver. Roderigo scoffed.
“So you didn’t get anything?” he snapped. “Are you kidding me?”
Joaquin shrugged and Liv exhaled, a small smile toying on the corners of her lips.
That little punk is no match for Damon. He could take on twelve of you.
Unfortunately, Roderigo saw her expression and scowled.
“What are you smiling at?” he snapped. Instantly, she dropped the expression and gave him a sidelong look.
“Nada,” Liv replied, turning her head fully to stare out the window as they fled. She had finally weaseled her way into one of the subgroups, masking herself as an admirer of Roderigo’s, much as it churned her stomach. It hadn’t taken much. A simple bat of the eyes, served with an image of complacency, made Roderigo believe that she was some weak female, desperately seeking out guidance in a rough world. She wasn’t sure if he’d clued in that she was a demon or not but if he had, he didn’t seem to see the danger in her company. Roderigo was no Santiago Cruz in the hierarchy of the gangs but at least she wasn’t hanging out on the fringes, hoping for a way in anymore.
Just like climbing the ladder to the Cabal, I’ll get in here too, she told herself confidently.
“We’ll go back tomorrow night,” Roderigo grumbled as the vehicle made its way onto Highway 50, toward Santa Ana. It was there that the higher-ups were expecting the collection of wares for the night. Sadly for Roderigo and Joaquin, there would be nothing to give them.
“We can’t just go there empty-handed,” Roderigo growled, echoing Liv’s thoughts.
“We can give them the car,” Joaquin suggested dumbly. Roderigo’s head whipped around to glower at his accomplice.
“Are you stupido?” he snapped. “Then what will we use to get around?”
“We can steal another one,” Joaquin whined. “If we go there without anything, Santiago is going to be furious.”
Liv felt her blood run cold but before she could react to the news that Santiago would be at the clubhouse, Roderigo turned to her.
“I’ll drop you off at your apartment,” he said, abruptly exiting the highway. “You can’t come with us.”
Relief shot through her as she nodded in agreement.
“Sure, papi,” she agreed. “Whatever you say.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence, the tension growing in the car as they neared Liv’s flat.
“Santiago will just take the car if we don’t come with anything else,” Joaquin said suddenly. “We can’t show up in it.”
Roderigo cast him another look in the rearview mirror, but the words seemed to resonate with him and he nodded his head.
“You’re right,” he conceded with a deep sigh. “Dammit, Joaquin, why didn’t you fight off the worker?”
“He was strong, pendejo!” Joaquin muttered. “Stronger than any other bear I’ve encountered.”
Not that the bar is high for that, Liv mused to herself, but she wisely kept her mouth shut as they neared her place. Yet she di
dn’t deny that Damon was certainly not the bear any young thug wanted to encounter on a dark night. Even the thought of him fighting sent delicious shivers of pleasure through her.
“We’ll leave the car here, with Olivia,” Roderigo said suddenly. “We’ll bus to the outskirts and shift the rest of the way.”
Liv blinked at the suggestion and automatically opened her mouth to protest but she thought better of it and again closed her pouty lips.
What the hell difference does it make? I’m stuck in their company until I get a leg up in the gangs anyway.
“You’ll need to keep an eye on it,” Roderigo told her in broken English. “Can you do that?”
“Hm?” Liv pretended not to understand. She realized that feigning stupidity worked best to her advantage in this situation. Gods forbid they gleaned that she was smarter than them. She would prefer not to kill them if she could avoid it.
“The coche—the car. You’ll have to watch it until I come back, si?”
“Oh, sure,” she agreed as they stopped in front of her crumbling building. They were back almost exactly where they’d started, a few blocks from the construction site.
I wonder if Damon is still there. I could go to him after these clowns leave.
She silenced the ridiculous thought. If only she hadn’t thought it before. She moved to exit the car, but Roderigo grabbed her arm, his lips puckered outward for a kiss. Liv barely suppressed a shudder. She giggled and looked pointedly at Joaquin meaningfully.
“Later, okay?” she said demurely, wrenching her arm free and stepping from the vehicle before the young bear could protest. Two days in and she was already sick of him.
She darted toward the entranceway without so much as a backward look, knowing that Roderigo had more pressing matters on his mind than her at the moment. Sprinting up the decrepit stairs to her third-story walk-up, Liv locked herself inside and peered out onto the street below. The pair stood on the sidewalk in front of the red Renault, talking.
They’ll be gone soon, she reasoned, exhaling a breath she hadn’t noticed she’d been holding inside. She waited until they finally took off toward the bus stop before reaching for her phone.
Lucien answered on the first ring.
“How is it going over there?” her superior asked. “Any luck?”
“I’m in,” she informed him. “But it’s going to take some time still.”
She didn’t tell him that she’d missed her opportunity to get in with a better crew. Failure was not something that Lucien Wilder liked to hear about, and Liv was not one to admit weakness. Lucien sighed deeply.
“I could use you back here, Olivia.”
Liv knew his wariness had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the operatives he’d supplied for the mission.
He doesn’t care if I come home. Only the others.
The thought didn’t depress her—she’d always known that she was a dispensable soldier in this war. What kept her going was knowing that she would one day be above all this.
“I’m working as fast as I can,” she assured him. “Just give me a few days.”
“I hope it doesn’t take much longer,” Lucien growled. “I’ve had enough stress over the last year without more being dumped upon it.”
Liv frowned, unclear on what he meant. From what she had gleaned, Lucien had diminished his role in the pack even though he remained overseeing all aspects of his reign. His daughter had overtaken much of the business dealings—not that Liv was supposed to know any of that. Liv’s job was merely to respond to orders from the Cabal, not ask questions about the members. But Liv was too ambitious to simply follow blind orders. Her nature was to question everything and Cabal or not, she was determined to know everything she could about the man for whom she worked.
“Are you still there?” Lucien demanded.
“I’m here,” she assured him, her gaze still fixed on the street below. Two couples wandered by and another figure appeared on the far end, none of them capturing Liv’s attention as she cradled the burner phone against her shoulder.
“How long are we talking, Olivia?” Lucien pressed. “I need a timeline.”
“Honestly, Lucien, I don’t know,” she replied. “I have to touch base with the other operatives and we’ll enact the plan as soon as we’re all in positions to do just that.”
Lucien grunted but suddenly, Liv wasn’t listening anymore. The lone man on the street had strolled closer to her building, his gait slow as he neared the Renault. He came to a full stop and Liv’s heart jumped into her throat.
Damon!
For the second time that night, Liv questioned her eyes.
No way. That can’t be him. I just have him on the brain… She started to justify again but she stopped herself mid-thought as he turned his head to look up and down the roadway. His profile was unmistakable.
How did he find her? This couldn’t be a coincidence…could it?
“OLIVIA!” Her superior was getting angry, but Liv didn’t care in that moment. She wasn’t about to let Damon escape her again, not when fate kept dropping him in her lap.
“I’m sorry, Lucien. I have to go,” she muttered, disconnecting the call without a second thought. She had never hung up on Lucien before, but she would make an excuse later that he’d be forced to accept. This was far more pressing a matter.
In seconds, she was out the door and rushing down the stairs to confront the man on the street. Damon didn’t see her until she was on him.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said in English. “What are you doing near my car?”
Her tone was light but when Damon spun, his face was blazing in anger. Liv was almost blown back by his ire.
“Your car?” he scoffed. “You’re telling me this is your car?”
Confused and alarmed, Liv shook her head.
“It belongs to a friend.”
Damon snorted louder this time and shook his head in disbelief.
“You and your friends stole this car from me, you mean.”
Liv gaped as Damon produced a set of keys and unlocked the door. She blinked uncomprehendingly.
“What?”
He scowled.
“Don’t play dumb, Olivia—if that is your name,” he hissed, moving to claim the driver’s seat. “Get away from my car. I hope you enjoyed your little joyride.”
“Oh no! No, you can’t take the car!” Liv choked aloud, echoing her inner panic.
When Roderigo comes back and sees the car gone, he’ll leave me at the curb too! And then I’ll have no in at all, she thought frantically.
Damon gaped at her dubiously.
“I can’t take my car?” he echoed. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No, listen…” Liv shook her head, trying to figure out how to win in this scenario. “Listen…”
She inhaled deeply, her mind whirling as Damon glowered at her.
What was she going to tell him that wouldn’t blow her own cover? She needed to come up with something he would believe. It was a more difficult question than she could have imagined.
“Why don’t you come inside and have a drink?” she suggested, switching gears. “We’ll talk about this.”
He openly laughed but there was no mirth in his tone.
“Why? So your punk friends can jump me again?” he growled. Liv’s eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently.
“You saved me,” she reminded him. “You think I would set you up to be hurt?”
Uncertainty touched his face as he read her expression. Whatever he saw there seemed to soften him slightly.
“Please,” Liv implored him. “Just come upstairs and have a drink with me. I need one.”
Damon pursed his full lips together and studied her face.
“Who else is up there?” he growled. Again, Liv shook her head.
“No one. I swear. I live alone.”
“Doesn’t mean one of the Asesinos doesn’t have a key.”
This time it was Liv who snorted.
Silently, they made their way into Liv’s unit where she closed and secured the door behind them.
“Beer okay?” she asked, sauntering to the fridge to pull two bottles from inside. Damon didn’t respond, his intelligent eyes scanning the tiny unit for signs of trouble. Convinced that there was no one there, he let himself relax by perching on the end of the futon as Liv handed him an uncapped bottle.
“Look,” Liv began, finally devising a story in her head. “I didn’t know that car was stolen or that it was yours—clearly.”
“Who the hell are you, Olivia?” Damon growled, unimpressed by her words. “Demons don’t sit well with bears and yet here you are, again in bear territory. You’re either looking for trouble or are already well acquainted with it.”
“Bears don’t play well with anyone, usually,” Liv conceded. “Neither do demons.”
He studied her face, waiting for her to continue, but she bought herself some time, pressing the bottle to her lips.
“How did you even find your car?” Liv asked as an afterthought.
Or were you looking for me?
The thought warmed her, crazy as it was, but she found herself hoping that he had come for her.
“GPS,” he scoffed. “I didn’t see the point before but when I saw you in it tonight…”
He trailed off, his face flushing slightly as he realized what he’d said. Like Liv had, he brought the beer to his mouth, his eyes trailing away from her face.
He was looking for her, not the car.
“I don’t know what your game is, Olivia—” he said gruffly.
“Liv,” she corrected him before she could stop herself. “Call me Liv.”
He was taken aback by the informality, she could tell, but hearing him talk to her like he was one of her team bothered her.
“Okay, Liv,” he sighed. Liv could tell he was lowering his guard in spite of himself. Another swig went down his throat before he spoke again.
“It’s not a game,” Liv told him, joining his side on the futon. She put the bottle on the scarred coffee table and stared at his face, again struck with the intense sense of déjà vu.