Shades of Hate (Jacky Leon Book 5)

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Shades of Hate (Jacky Leon Book 5) Page 11

by K. N. Banet


  “Kick Shot is closed for the night. I have a plan, one I can do on my own. Go with Heath. I’ll text or call to check in once it’s done.”

  “You might need back up,” he retorted.

  “You seem awfully helpful for a nephew who doesn’t want to be too involved in the family,” I said with a smile. “Go be helpful by learning more from Heath.”

  He looked between me and Heath, then got up. They both waved before Heath closed me back in my office. I sat in the quiet and listened as their trucks pulled away, tracking Heath as he drove toward his home. After a moment, I stood up.

  I had a plan, and I needed to be in the right position for it.

  I went down to the main floor, going behind the bar without pausing. There were a couple of cars in the driveway, but I had the Closed sign lit up, and there was a small sign posted out front saying I needed the space for a private event on short notice. There would be a sale on Friday for those that were unhappy about it. That had been Oliver’s idea when I told him I wanted to keep Kick Shot closed for the night.

  I rearranged bottles, placing everything I used the most where it had once been. I wanted to be comfortable but hadn’t wanted Dirk to see me doing this to his precious set up.

  Not that he’s ever going to get back to it.

  Once I was done, I turned and grabbed a glass, making myself a drink to calm my nerves and give me something to sip on, but not the type of drink I was worried about losing my wits. I fully intended on loosening up the agents, though, and having a drink myself could make them more comfortable to indulge.

  They wanted to come for me, a bartender. I’ll show them what a bartender can do.

  13

  Chapter Thirteen

  I watched as they drove up and parked near the door. Special Agent Miller was more confused and curious about the Closed sign than Special Agent Collins.

  They didn’t come up to the door immediately. While they parked close, it was still ten feet from the front door. They hovered at the back of their SUV, looking at the bar. Collins went to investigate my little sign while Miller stood with a deep frown.

  “Why did she close? In training, they say supernaturals try to keep the appearance of normal as much as possible. Closing a bar mid-week without warning doesn’t seem normal.”

  “She knew we were coming this time and probably wanted to have a more private meeting,” Collins replied. “That’s what the sign says. She needed the bar for a private event.”

  “Why do they all own bars and restaurants? Have you noticed that? A bunch of werewolves invested in this kind of stuff. A couple of the fae we’ve found have as well, and the witches have their own types of…places of business.”

  “I think it’s a community thing. A restaurant is part of the fabric of a town and lets them feel included when they aren’t.” Collins shrugged. “It’s also a forever growing and changing industry. People like to eat out, and people like to drink. Money.”

  “Didn’t you work with Heath Everson, the werewolf who lives nearby? He had a couple of restaurants in Dallas, didn’t he?”

  “In Dallas, yeah. That’s why we were picked for this. I wish you could have met him. Maybe we can do a drive-by of his place and see if he wants to talk.”

  I raised an eyebrow. Maybe I could get more information from Heath. If Special Agent Collins was from the BSA offices in Dallas, Heath would probably know more than he realized. Collins might even be one of the people who tried to spy on Carey and knew how wrong a bad decision could go when playing with supernaturals.

  “He knows about her, right? If we took him in, maybe he could break and give us everything we want to know,”

  “He definitely knows. They’ve been hanging out for a couple of years and are both supernaturals, but I wouldn’t count on Heath breaking. He’s an Alpha, one of the biggest in the United States, and after the Russian incident last year, rumors say he’s probably one of the top ten or fifteen Alphas in the world. He’ll die before he breaks…or he’ll kill us,” Collins said with a huff. “Besides, we don’t do things like that. I know you come from the CIA, and it’s different over there, but we don’t interrogate like that in the BSA.”

  I watched out the window, glad they were dark enough to hide me from their sight. I didn’t have any lights on because I didn’t need them, especially not when I was on edge. My eyes were probably bright gold and full feline. The humans would, though, and even better, they didn’t know how good my hearing was when the world was otherwise silent. To me, they sounded like they were whispering, but it was easy to listen in on them when there was no music playing, and the wind had slowed down at the perfect moment. Collins lit a cigarette as he checked his watch.

  “Still got fifteen minutes. We’ll see if she comes out to us or if we need to knock.”

  “Do you think she’ll still be hostile?”

  “I don’t think she was hostile when we saw her on Tuesday. I think we scared her. When it comes to supernaturals, you’ll know when they’re hostile. They’ll make it painfully clear.”

  Do we? Maybe you have a sense of self-confidence you don’t deserve.

  It was easier to focus, knowing they were out there, enjoying a cigarette before they had to come in for a meeting. It was easier to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, knowing I had to be ready for anything. They had scared me, he was right about that. At the time I threw them out of my office, I hadn’t been thinking about killing them. I had just been sick and wanted it to end. I had wanted to hide and needed to call for help.

  Today will be different. It has to be.

  Collins dropped the cigarette and stomped on it, leaving the butt in my parking lot. That pissed me off. I had ashtrays and smoker’s poles to hide those dirty little things. They came to the door, and Miller knocked while Collins looked over his shoulder as if he was checking their six to make sure no one else was there.

  I went to the door at a slow pace, not rushing. When I opened it, I nailed Collins with my gold stare.

  “Go get your cigarette butt and put it in a smoker’s pole,” I ordered, knowing I shouldn’t have let it piss me off, but this place was mine, and he was going to respect it. He seemed confused when he turned back to me. Miller’s eyebrows went up as I pointed between them. “You dropped it on the ground and left it there. Go pick it up.” I didn’t budge.

  Collins looked back again at the spot he dropped his cigarette, then back at me. He must have realized I was serious and I’d been watching them. He walked back toward their SUV, picked it up, and shoved it into the top of a smoker’s pole close to the front door.

  “Sorry, it’s habit. I’ll be more careful in the future,” he said, entering that polite front I had experienced from him two nights ago. This time, there was a strain to his words.

  He didn’t like that I had been watching them.

  “Come inside.” I opened the door more, stepping out of the way for them to enter.

  They came in slowly, looking around the dark bar, I knew they could barely see. I walked to my place behind the bar and flipped on the display lights, giving the room a nice warm glow that didn’t reach into the dark corners. It was low light, but it was enough.

  “We’re going to stay down here tonight,” I said simply, sipping my drink as they looked at each other. “Want anything to drink? I used to be the only bartender here, so I know my way around the alcohol, and our liquor license is perfectly legit.”

  “We don’t drink on duty,” Collins said, sitting down first. “But thank you for the offer.” Miller followed his lead and noticeably left an empty seat between them.

  “Just want everyone to be comfortable.”

  “Jacky, maybe we should—”

  “Jacqueline,” I snapped softly, cutting off whatever platitude or comment Miller was going to say. “You can call me Jacqueline or Miss Leon, but Jacky is not a name that’ll leave your mouth tonight,” I said, a low growl in my words at the end. “You two blindsided me the last time you we
re here. I bet that makes you feel powerful, having all the cards and all the power. When I have to sit and talk to people I don’t like, they do me the respect of calling me Jacqueline or Miss Leon. I don’t like either of you. Those are your options.”

  I’m Jacqueline, daughter of Hasan, motherfuckers, and you’re going to learn I play hardball when I have to.

  I had them terribly off-balance. Miller cast a glance at Collins, who watched me with narrowed eyes. There was no feigned politeness in his expression now.

  “Miss Leon,” Collins decided, nodding. “We won’t try to be too familiar. Have you thought about what we talked to you about on Tuesday?”

  “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. If you want me to tell you anything about my species, you’re going to make me some promises. They’ll be in writing, signed, and sent to whoever can make these things official, and I’ll follow up to make sure the BSA doesn’t try to screw me before the end of this.”

  “There is no end of this.” Collins leaned forward. “Hopefully, this is the beginning of a new alliance between your species or those who live here in the United States, and the BSA, representing the United States. An alliance that will bring your kind out of the dark to become average citizens of our country and will help us further understand the underground world of the supernaturals who live beside us.”

  “And if my kind doesn’t want to be citizens of the United States?”

  “We’re not talking about anything different than the werewolves, Miss Leon. No draft sign-ups, no militarization of your kind. Only that you go public and abide by the laws.”

  “We have different needs than the werewolves, Special Agent Collins. First, you’ll never know who the others are of my kind unless it’s needed. You got lucky, or maybe very unlucky, you found me and not any of the others.”

  “What can we call your kind?” he asked carefully.

  “Werecats, one of two moon cursed species. Werewolves are like…our cousins, but don’t let that lull you into a false sense of security. We’re very different.”

  “Werecats…That’s why you shifted on a full moon like werewolves. It’s the same type of curse, meaning it presents the same dangers. You won’t give us names or identities for other werecats? That won’t work for us, knowing you’re the cousins to werewolves, who can accidentally turn someone with a single bite, and that bite could just as easily kill someone,” he said, watching me as I sipped on my drink. “We need to be able to track these sorts of issues.”

  “It’s called Changing someone,” I pointed out. “Which I’m sure you already knew, even if you don’t understand the importance.”

  And they never will unless the vampires decide to come out and tell them that Turning is something they do. We Change humans into a new type of beast, vampires Turn them evil. Or so the saying goes.

  “The reasons you’re worried are something we can talk about after you promise to give something to me.”

  “What else do you want?” Miller asked, more frustrated with me than Collins.

  “We don’t want to be public. We want to remain a private species. We don’t want the world knowing the word werecat, much less seeing pictures of us. Let us hide behind the werewolves, blend in with them.” I wish I’d heard back from Hasan before this meeting. He said he would talk to Corissa and Callahan. I hadn’t. I sent him more than one message throughout the day, but he never got back to me.

  Miller chuckled. “You’re ballsy, but why are you the one doing the bargaining? Isn’t there someone in charge we can talk to?”

  “When it comes to werecats in the United States, I am the one in charge,” I answered honestly, staring him down. “Like I said, you were both lucky and unlucky to find me first. You found someone who can bargain with you, the only person in the country allowed to, but it also means you’ll only ever know my face. I’m not giving you any of my kind.”

  “Really?” Miller leaned forward. “You? You’re thirty-eight, which is young compared to the leaders of the werewolves. Heath Everson is over two hundred and seventy years old, and you expect us to believe you lead the werecats in the United States?”

  I shrugged. “Believe it or not, I’m all you have and all you’ll get,” I promised.

  “We need something to take back to our superiors that will show you’re serious,” Collins said, sighing. “What else do you want?”

  “Like werewolves, we’re exempt from your military drafts if they ever come back, and protected from forced research. You’ll respect our internal laws, and we’ll respect yours. The general things. I still don’t really understand what you want from me.”

  “It’s what I’ve been saying,” Collins said, his jaw tensing. “We’re just trying to open dialogue between our species and integrate you into the United States as citizens, just like we did with the werewolves. You pose more of a threat when you’re allowed to remain secret.”

  “Would you like to know the difference between werewolves and werecats?” I said, leaning in. “They wanted to be part of your world. Werecats don’t. You’ll need to do better, because if you can’t convince me what you want is worth my time, I’ll disappear, and you’ll never find another one of our kind.” I smiled. “Guess who holds all the cards now?”

  Oh, that last comment was completely unnecessary, and everyone at the bar knew it. Special Agent Collins stood up and fixed his blazer.

  “Please don’t disappear before I can get back to you,” he said. “I’ll take what you’ve said to my superiors. If you don’t mind, we’d also like to verify your position among your kind through the werewolves we know.”

  “Do that,” I purred.

  Collins tapped Miller on the shoulder, and he got up and followed his older partner out of the bar.

  I took a deep breath and sagged once their SUV left my parking lot. I couldn’t take a long break. I pulled my phone from my pocket and called Heath.

  “Jacky?” he asked quickly. “Is something wrong? Is it already over?”

  “They just left. I need you to tell every werewolf you know that the BSA only knows about me. They don’t know who Hasan is or anyone else, just me. They’re going to verify my position as the werecat in charge of the United States. They don’t know that extends to Canada or South America. They can let my region slip, but if they mention Hasan’s name, they’re outing him.”

  “Okay, I’ll spread the word,” Heath promised. “This is going to cause a stir.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “Thanks for watching out for me. Will this get you in trouble?”

  “No. This is a higher priority than the push-back-and-forth bullshit between our kinds. This is secrecy, which is respected by all. That’s the official stance of the North American Werewolf Council and the Tribunal. You don’t need to worry about me getting in trouble for this.” He paused. “Are you going to call your family? I just want to make sure I don’t interrupt anything if…I wanted to come over later and check on you.”

  “Yeah, I need to call them next,” I confirmed. “I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come over. You can send Dirk my way if he’s still with you.”

  “I’ll trust you to do that. He’s right next to me. I’ll send him back.”

  We mumbled goodbyes and hung up, practically at the same time. After that, I texted Oliver to come to Kick Shot as I locked the front door and headed up the backstairs. I was going to need more help than just my newly picked head of security.

  I wonder if Oliver is going to be okay with a pay raise and a new position.

  14

  Chapter Fourteen

  I was in my office when Oliver and Dirk walked in together.

  “I picked him up on the way over,” Dirk said, pointing at the young man. “I’ll sweep downstairs for anything the good agents left behind once you’re done with me.”

  Good. He’s on top of everything. On to the important question.

  “Oliver, will you be my personal assistant?” I asked without any sort of preamble. I watched him stumble
and reach for the back of a chair.

  “What?”

  “My personal assistant. I need someone who knows contracts, can take notes, and is able to manage my schedule. This is going to get crazier, I can already feel it. I need someone, and I trust you. Do you have training in it?”

  “Um…yeah?” Oliver sat down slowly. “Is there no one else you can call?”

  “You’ll still be doing everything with Kick Shot, for the most part, but when I’m needed as…whatever I am now, I need someone who can help…track everything.” I clicked through to my calendar on my computer, which showed up empty. “Look. There’s nothing there.”

  “Ha ha…” Oliver whined.

  “There’s no one else I can call unless I want to ask a sibling to send me someone else, but I think I got lucky with the two of you. If I told them I was in the market for a personal assistant, they would suddenly have a great person to spy on my every movement. This person would learn about Heath, for example.” I clasped my hands together. “I told the BSA I’m in charge of all the werecats in their country, so…”

  “Oh, fuck,” Dirk said, sitting down now beside Oliver. “Did you have to?”

  “They wanted to write me off, thinking I wasn’t in charge, probably hoping I would give up someone like Hasan or Zuri for them to talk to. They were fishing. They didn’t realize I wasn’t the bait. I’m the fish. They left in a hurry when they realized I wasn’t going to give them any information until I had some simple assurances from them. Oliver—”

  “I’ll do it,” he said quickly. “It’s…it’s just a lot really fast. Um…I’m going to need to use the business credit card to set some things up and get everything I need. I played as my parents’ personal assistant while learning the restaurant business. It’s a common thing to do in the family, to be an assistant for someone you want to be. I don’t want to be a werecat, but if you need me to juggle things, I can do that.”

 

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