by Paige Tyler
“Hope you two have your clothes on because we have company,” Zane said as they walked into the room.
The comment earned him synchronized snorts of amusement from the man and woman sitting on the shabby couch. She hadn’t gotten a great look at them last night—it had been dark in the club and those flashing strobe lights hadn’t helped—but there was no mistaking they were the people she’d seen follow Stefan out. Even sitting there clicking away at the keyboards of three different laptops spread out on the coffee table in front of them among all the fast-food containers, they projected the same barely contained animal grace and power as Zane.
“Diego Miguel Martinez and Rachel Bennett,” Zane introduced. “Diego, Rachel—Alyssa Carson.”
Diego stood and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
He wasn’t as tall as Zane, but she could tell that, under his T-shirt, he had muscles on top of muscles. Heck, his forearms were so built she thought he might crush her hand. She almost pulled it back out of pure self-preservation. But then she met his kind, dark eyes and instinctively realized she wasn’t in danger.
“Zane mentioned having dinner with you last night, but I have to admit, you don’t fit the description he gave us,” Diego said.
She threw a confused glance in Zane’s direction before turning to Diego. “How did he describe me?”
“Don’t worry. He didn’t say anything unflattering,” Rachel said in a distinct southern twang as she got to her feet. “But after listening to him go on and on about you last night, we got the impression you’d be…I don’t know…bigger.”
Alyssa eyed the tall, athletic SWAT cop, wondering if she should be offended by that. She might not be as muscular as Rachel, but she was nearly as tall.
Rachel smiled and extended a hand in greeting. “I’d offer you something cold to drink, but there aren’t any fridges in the rooms and the ice machine out front is broken.”
As Zane told his teammates about how the meeting with Zoe and Chloe had gone, Alyssa looked around the room and decided she’d never again complain about the hotel per diem the FBI authorized for her. The places she stayed in were the Ritz compared to this dump. The carpets were stained and dirty, and the small bed in the corner looked like the most uncomfortable thing in the world to sleep on.
“But on the bright side,” Diego said in his naturally husky voice, “there’s an In-N-Out Burger right down the street. So, how about a warm soda, a side of fries, and some dirt on Curtis Unified Parking Services?”
Alyssa headed for the couch and sat down. “You had me at fries.”
Diego laughed and took a seat on the other side of Rachel, reaching across her to hand Alyssa a little red-and-white cardboard tray filled with beautiful, greasy fries. As she picked one up and nibbled on its salty goodness, she threw a look in Zane’s direction, silently telling him he had some explaining to do. She still wanted to know how he’d described her to his teammates but decided it could wait.
The hunky Brit gave her a subtle nod. Yeah, he knew he was in trouble.
Funny how she and Zane seemed to be able to communicate with each other without words, even though they’d only met last night. There were people in the bureau she’d worked with for over a year she still couldn’t read as well.
Alyssa pushed the thought aside for later and turned her attention to the three laptops on the table. The ones on either side were opened to the Internet. Skype was up on the middle computer, and she found herself gazing at an attractive guy with dark-blond hair, blue eyes, and an amused expression on his face.
“So, you’re Alyssa Carson—federal agent and all around badass,” he said.
Alyssa smiled. “All around badass?”
“Hell yeah.” He grinned. “Your personnel record kind of makes you out to be some kind of superhero.”
“Ah,” she breathed. “You must be the hacker Zane mentioned. Breaking into the FBI personnel system, huh? That’s impressive. With those kinds of skills, you should be working for the feds.”
He gave her an appraising look. “Zane told me there was something different about you. I see what he means. By the way, my name’s Eric Becker. But everyone just calls me Becker.”
Alyssa felt more than saw Zane move over to stand beside her end of the couch. She was a little surprised he’d told his teammates such complimentary things about her. She hadn’t thought dinner had gone that well last night. The urge to ask him what he’d said about her was difficult to suppress. It was crazy, but she wanted to know what he genuinely thought of her. He seemed to find her impressive, and for some reason, she liked the way that made her feel.
She bit into another fry and focused on the real reason she was there. “So, what do you have on Stefan and his garage?”
Becker shuffled papers around on the desk, looking for something while Rachel and Diego picked up small spiral notebooks from the coffee table, the kind police officers everywhere carried to write down info for an investigation. The two SWAT cops flipped through the pages, reviewing what they’d already written.
Zane sat on the arm of the couch, his hip brushing her sleeve. Alyssa closed her eyes for a moment. Crap, she could practically smell him. No…strike that. She could definitely smell him. The scent was so strong she had a hard time resisting the urge to turn and bury her face in the front of his shirt and breathe all of him in. She’d never ever wanted to do that to a guy before.
Get a frigging grip, girl.
“First off,” Becker said, “there’s definitely a connection between Curtis Unified and Black Swan Enterprises. It’s buried in about a hundred layers of shell corporations and misleading legal paperwork, but it’s there if you look hard enough.”
“What kind of connections?” Zane asked from beside her, and she glanced over to see him leaning in close, his eyes focused on the Skype screen. Damn, he made intense look good.
“To start with, Black Swan Enterprises fronted the money for the construction of the parking garage,” Becker said. “They went out of their way to hide it from casual observers, but at the same time, they made sure if anyone bothered to dig deep, they’d find a completely rational trail of investment decisions ending in a net profit. Maybe not enough to justify a worldwide conglomerate like Black Swan Enterprises wasting their time on something as trivial as a parking structure in downtown LA, but the numbers support their involvement. I think all that’s a cover, though.”
“A cover for what?” Alyssa asked.
“To hide the fact that Black Swan Enterprises wanted the parking garage built a very particular way.”
“What do you mean?” Diego asked.
Becker shrugged. “I’m not an expert on building things, especially parking garages, but when I compared the costs for Stefan’s garage with several others in LA, Black Swan Enterprises put a lot more money into the foundation work than other people—like more than they paid for the entire rest of the structure.”
Alyssa almost gave herself a high five as the answer clicked in her head. “You think they put extra money into the foundation because there’s more than just a foundation down there. Like maybe rooms to hide people they kidnapped?”
“The building plans filed with the county show a few small offices on the ground level for management purposes, then not much beyond maintenance and utility space below that,” Becker said. “But unless Black Swan Enterprises was using the construction costs as a way to launder money, you’ve got to think it’s at least possible there’s something else down there.”
“Maybe even our illustrious police chief,” Zane said.
That was a possibility, Alyssa thought. “This is all great supposition, but what are we going to do to confirm it? Zane and I already figured out there’s no way to get into the offices on the lowest level without being seen. I doubt we’ll have better luck trying to go in from the ground floor.”
“We could set up a stakeout on the garage,” Zane suggested. “Keep an eye on the place until we see something worth moving on.”
Becker opened his mouth to say something, but a man called his name from somewhere behind him. “I have to go. We got a call—barricaded suspect in an apartment building. If you guys need anything else, let me know.”
“So, how do you want to do this?” Rachel asked after Becker hung up. “It might look suspicious if we’re parked by the curb across the street from the garage 24–7.”
Alyssa considered that. “I have an FBI credit card. We could see if there’s an office or apartment for rent nearby that’d give us a good visual on the entrance and exit of the garage.”
Zane and his teammates agreed that sounded like a good plan. Alyssa stood to head out with Zane when Diego caught his eye.
“Before you guys leave, could I talk to you for a second?” he asked Zane. “Outside.”
Alyssa pretended she didn’t see the curious expression on Zane’s face. Or the way he glanced at Rachel out of the corner of his eye. When he gave Alyssa a questioning look, she nodded and sat down on the couch again.
She didn’t know them well at all, but it seemed obvious there was some kind of tension between the three SWAT cops. She’d thought Zane’s joke about Rachel and Diego having their clothes on when they walked in was exactly that—a joke. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Maybe the two of them had slept together and regretted it.
Alyssa knew it was absolutely none of her business, but she also knew what it was like being a woman in a male-oriented career field, so she figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask if Rachel wanted to talk about it, but the SWAT cop spoke before she could get the question out.
“So, you have a federal credit card, huh?” Rachel asked, the smile on her face making Alyssa suspect the woman knew what she’d been thinking. “I bet it has a nice limit on it. Any chance you can use it to get us some rooms in a different hotel? Someplace that doesn’t have bedbugs the size of poodles?”
Alyssa laughed. Rachel did, too. The sound was almost enough to make the lingering tension in the room fade away. That’s when she realized Rachel didn’t seem tense. She seemed…tired. As in really, really tired.
Maybe that’s all that was going on. Maybe Rachel couldn’t sleep well in this crappy motel from hell. Maybe that’s what Diego wanted to talk to Zane about.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Alyssa said. “The team I’m on in the bureau has a lot of leeway when it comes to expenses, but a few extra hotel rooms in a city as pricey as LA are going to be noticed and raise questions. I’ll probably need to wait until after I drop the bill on them for the place we’re going to need for the stakeout. Once they finish crapping bricks over that, anything else will probably look like chump change.”
Rachel laughed again and opened her mouth to say something, but then looked sharply at the door. “Zane and Diego are coming back.”
Alyssa wasn’t sure how Rachel could possibly know that, but before she could ask, the door opened and both men stepped into the room. Diego looked more relaxed than he had a few minutes ago, but now Zane seemed tense. Maybe this was about more than the rinky-dink, bedbug-ridden motel they were staying in.
“Do you mind if Diego goes with you to find that stakeout location instead?” Zane asked. “Something came up here I need to take care of.”
She had no doubt the something that had come up was whatever was going on between Rachel and Diego. Well, good luck dealing with that.
“Yeah, sure,” she said. “I’ll call as soon as we find something, so we can come up with a duty roster.” Alyssa glanced at Rachel as she headed for the door. “I’ll get in contact with the credit card rep for my team, too. See if I can at least warm them up to the idea of paying for another hotel.”
Rachel nodded. “Thanks.”
Alyssa glanced at Diego. “Come on. Let’s go spend some taxpayers’ money before I change my mind.”
Chapter 5
Neither one of them said anything for a good ten minutes. Instead, Zane and Rachel polished off several burgers and two trays of fries. Being this close to In-N-Out Burger meant they were living on fast food. Which wasn’t a hardship. He frigging loved American cheeseburgers. In fact, he could eat them every day for the rest of his life and not get bored.
“So, what happened with the twins?” Rachel finally asked. “How did they handle it when you told them they’re werewolves?”
“Surprisingly well.” He knew Rachel was purposely trying to get him on a topic of conversation that had nothing to do with why he was there. He told her about what happened to the twins’ parents, then explained, “It turns out they came to LA looking for their alpha. Apparently, they’re following some kind of homing instinct that tells them this is where they need to look. You ever heard of anything like that?”
Rachel shook her head.
“I mentioned that you and Diego would stop by their hotel soon,” he said, “so they could see if either of you happen to be their alpha.”
Another nod. Well, this talk was going well.
“What was Alyssa saying about paying for another hotel?” he finally asked after he’d finished chewing, figuring it was as good a way as any to get the conversation started. If Rachel let him.
Rachel picked up her can of Diet Coke. “I was joking when I asked her if she could get us rooms at a place that didn’t have bedbugs, but I think she’s actually going to try and find us another hotel. Which is pretty damn cool, not that I’m surprised. Something tells me she’s special.”
He chuckled. “Special would be a good word for her.”
Rachel regarded him, a knowing look in her eyes. “How special?”
Zane cursed silently. His pack mate had just played him like a cheap instrument. “Not that special. And just so you know, I didn’t stay behind to talk about me. I stayed so we could talk about you. Diego is worried about you.”
Rachel grabbed another handful of fries, chewing slowly before washing everything down with a gulp of lukewarm soda. “Yeah, I know. But I figured before we get into my issue, we could get into yours.”
“I don’t have an issue.”
“Cool.” She shrugged. “Neither do I. Now you can tell Diego to stop worrying.”
He sighed. He hadn’t known Rachel very long, but he’d already figured out she was as stubborn as a stump. At least, that’s what some of the other members of the Pack said. Personally, he wasn’t sure how stubborn a stump was. Despite having an American mother and living in Dallas for years, he still didn’t get a lot of the slang and metaphors he heard on a daily basis. He understood the ones with a southern bent to them even less. Sometimes it felt like that part of the country was a world all its own.
But he knew enough to realize Rachel wouldn’t talk to him if she didn’t want to. And after the stuff Diego had mentioned, Zane needed her to talk to him.
“Alyssa makes me feel kind of crazy,” he finally admitted softly. “My heart starts beating fast every time she gets close. And her scent? I’ve never smelled anything close to it. It’s like she’s a chocolate-covered cinnamon cake sitting on a bed of rose petals. Bloody hell, I’m drooling right now just thinking about it.”
He couldn’t believe he’d said all those things to a pack mate he wasn’t even sure he trusted. He hadn’t intended to share, but the moment he thought about the gorgeous blond FBI agent, his mouth wouldn’t stop running. It was like he’d lost his bloody mind.
Regardless, he meant every word of it. And that scared the hell out of him.
“I’m sure you’ve already thought about this yourself,” Rachel murmured, “but I have to ask. Do you think all this stuff you’re feeling—combined with the way she smells—means she’s The One for you?”
Zane opened his mouth to give the knee-jerk response. The one where he claimed there was no possible way Alyssa was his bloody soul mate. He was even ready to point out that the only reason he felt this way was all the drugs he’d been taking for his arm lately. But he couldn’t, because he didn’t believe any of that crap. He doubted Rachel would either.
“Becker
told you what Alyssa does for the FBI, right?” he asked quietly.
Rachel nodded. “I know Becker thinks she tracks down werewolves for the federal government. I’m just not sure I believe it. Hell, you’re the one who told us about what she did to help those two girls in the alley behind the club last night. Between that and meeting her in person, she doesn’t come across as a coldhearted federal werewolf assassin.”
“Federal werewolf assassin?” He let out a short laugh. “Bloody hell, you make her sound like a comic book hero.”
“You think this is funny?” Rachel snapped. “I never really thought of you as a chucklefuck, but maybe I was wrong. It’s been known to happen.”
Chucklefuck. Another one of Rachel’s favorite words, the precise meaning of which still eluded him. But he could pick up enough through context to understand what she was trying to say.
“No, I don’t think this is funny.” He picked up his can of soda and took a swig. “There’s not a single part of me that wants to believe Alyssa could be the kind of woman who’d hunt down and kill a werewolf, especially since I have a hard time being around her without wanting to do something crazy and definitely inappropriate. But I can’t afford to be naive about any of this, regardless of how she makes me feel. She very well might be The One for me. But she could also be a threat to me, you, Diego, and every other member of our pack. I can’t overlook that, no matter how much I might want to. If the federal government knows about our kind, we have to be very careful. I have to be careful.”
Rachel was silent for a long time. “So what are you going to do? How do you treat Alyssa like a threat and The One for you at the same time?”
“I have absolutely no idea,” he admitted. “I’m kind of working this out as I go at the same time I’m focusing on finding Curtis and those missing girls Alyssa is looking for. After that, I’ll play it by ear.”
Rachel considered that. “Can I ask you a simple question?” When he nodded, she continued. “Do you believe a woman who might be The One for you could willingly hurt you or those you care about? I’m not asking you to answer with your head. I’m asking you to answer with your heart.”