by V. A. Dold
“You’re welcome. I’ll call Charles and give him the heads up that someone may be targeting the family. Until we know otherwise, assume that we are all in danger. If someone is starting a war against us, we need to be ready.”
“Could this be another attack by the Benevolent Sovereign?” Seth asked.
Isaac shook his head. “I doubt it. Whoever that idiot is, he’s always used shifters to do his dirty work.”
Marcus looked around the room one last time before he made his call to Quin. Regardless of how nosey and troublesome they could be, they always stood with one another. He wanted Cassidy at his side, the way his mated brothers had their women with them. He just had to find a way to do that and remain alive.
* * * * *
Later that evening, Marcus arrived at Quin’s home. He knocked loudly and waited, knowing that when Quin was deep into computer work, he blocked out everything around him.
“I’m in the office!” Quin yelled, his voice muffled by the closed door.
Marcus chuckled when he saw the condition of Quin’s workspace, papers, dirty dishes, and coffee cups were scattered around him like fallen soldiers.
“Hey, Marcus. I was about to get a cup of coffee. Would you like one, or do you prefer something stronger?”
“I’ll take a cup. While you get that, I’ll collect your dishes for you.”
Quin glanced away, sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry about that. I got lost in the research.”
With coffee in hand, they settled in front of Quin’s massive array of monitors. In the center was his pride and joy, a huge fifty-five-inch flat screen. Twin forty-three-inch monitors flanked that monstrosity. “I see you’ve been shopping for electronics again. The last time I was here, you only had two screens, and they were half this size.”
Quin grinned like a proud poppa showing off his new baby. “I know, right? I have no idea how I got anything done on that old setup.”
Marcus set his cup aside and took a deep breath. “I’m almost afraid to ask what you found.”
“Let me tell you, I had to dig deep, but what I found was rather interesting.” Quin pushed the file toward Marcus. “Open it.”
On top of the suspiciously thin stack of papers was an eight by ten photo. His gaze immediately zeroed in on a skinny teenage girl. Her white-blonde hair was a stark contrast to the others. The other children were a mixture of red, dirty blonde, and brunette. But Cassidy stood out among the dozen or so kids. Then he zeroed in on the tall, balding male glowering at the children. His wolf snarled. He agreed. Whatever Quin uncovered, he wasn’t going to like.
Quin tapped his finger on the man’s face. “That bastard is bad news. Anthony Jones is head of the JARVS Corporation.”
“What’s that?” Marcus asked, scrutinizing the enemy.
“JARVS stands for Justice, Assassination, Retrieval, Vengeance, or Sabotage. I had a hell of a time finding information on it. Their internet presence is nonexistent. Which wasn’t surprising. When you offer illegal services, you keep your head down. I had to go to the dark web to find what little information I have. Seeing as the average person doesn’t know how to access the dark web, I assume he gathers business by word of mouth.” Quin moved the picture aside and tapped a newspaper article. “Check this out.”
The short three-paragraph story featured a photo of a car engulfed in flames. “What’s this?”
“Cassidy’s real parents. They died in a suspicious car accident when she was seven, and her brother was two,” Quin said with exaggerated sarcasm.
Marcus skimmed the article a second time. “Suspicious, how?”
“I dug deeper into it. There wasn’t an accident. The car exploded.”
“Why? Who killed them?”
“From what I’ve been able to piece together, along with a healthy dose of conjecture, the murderer is Cassidy’s so-called adoptive father.”
Marcus pushed the file back to Quin. “All right, you better start from the beginning. Lay this out for me chronologically.”
Quin took a few minutes reordering the papers in the file and pulled up a couple of websites. He started with a birth certificate. “Okay. Cassidy was born, Cassidy Elizabeth Ryan, to Robert and Barbara Ryan. Her brother”—he pushed a second certificate at Marcus—“is Colin Ray Ryan. Using facial recognition software, I was able to find a photo of the Ryans with Anthony Jones. Here, let me show you.”
Quin opened a digital file on his computer and scrolled through a few photos, then pointed at the screen. “There. See that man in the background staring at little Cassidy? That’s Jones.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes, noting every detail of the picture. “Is that Disneyland?”
“Yeah. The Ryans were on a family vacation. It looks like Jones was very interested in your Cassidy, doesn’t it?”
“Sure does. And based on the way he’s hiding in the background, I’d bet my left nut they didn’t know him.”
“Yep. Total stranger danger. Shortly after they got home from their vacation, the car exploded.” Quin gave Marcus a third set of paperwork. “This is a copy of the police report and foster care intake forms. Cassidy and Colin went into the system while the authorities searched for living relatives.”
While Marcus read through the documents, Quin pulled out two more sheets of paper. “About a week after they entered the system, Uncle Anthony showed up. Based on the records and reports submitted by the foster parents, he exercised his guardianship rights with Cassidy but refused to take Colin.”
Marcus’s gut clenched at the thought of an evil man like that raising Cassidy with no one to protect her. He lifted his chin at the folder of information. “Is there anything in there about why he did that?”
“Nope. I read every entry made by the foster parents. He never gave a reason other than he only wanted the girl. Needless to say. He produced falsified documents to prove he was her uncle. That man is no more related to her than I am.”
Marcus focused on the family photo again. “So, what happened to Colin?”
“He grew up in the system. Cassidy kept tabs on him, though, and when she got her driver’s license, she went to see him. He didn’t remember her because he was so little when they were separated, but she made a point to visit as often as possible. When she turned eighteen, she rented an apartment and claimed guardianship of him. They have lived together ever since.
“For the next part, we need to go back to her childhood, and you may want to brace yourself.” Quin went back to the digital file of photographs. “I found some pictures of Cassidy in training. That Jones is a sick fuck. Here she is on the gun range. From what I can tell, that girl never misses what she’s aiming at.”
Marcus drank in the sight of Cassidy as a young teen, making a bullseye, dead center.
“Here she’s being presented with her black belt in krav maga. That’s one badass martial art that was developed for the Israeli defense forces. I know military guys who couldn’t get past a green belt, and a black belt is three levels above that. She’s also proficient in muay thai or Thai boxing, and Brazilian jiu-jitsu. Dude, this chick could kick your ass. Luckily, she seems to prefer distance killing. Your Cassidy is a grade-A sniper.”
Marcus grinned. “Probably.” Then he turned very serious. “So why is Jones a sick fuck? What aren’t you telling me?”
Quin’s computer mouse hovered over a file he had yet to show Marcus. “I’m not sure you should see these.”
Marcus growled and bared his teeth.
“Okay, okay. From what I can tell, Jones doesn’t like her much. She’s a wild card who goes her own way. While training, when she didn’t do as she was told, which was all the time, he disciplined her. The bastard is pure evil.”
Marcus gripped the edge of the desk until the wood groaned in protest. “Open the damn file, Quin.”
Quin sighed and clicked the file open.
Images of Cassidy beaten, starved, huddled in the corner of a cinderblock cell, and more assaulted his brain. “I’ll kill the bas
tard.”
“I feel ya. He did everything imaginable to that child short of sexual assault. And Marcus, I found a message board on the dark web. Jones is tired of Cassidy refusing to do the jobs he assigns her. She’s giving him the reputation of not delivering as promised. I think he plans to take her out.”
“Shit. Do you think she’s in danger?”
“If she refuses to follow through on your contract, she very well could be. One last thing, and you’re really not going to like it.”
“What?” Marcus’s wolf growled through his tone.
“I have the address where she’s staying. She rented a dive in Tremé. She’s in a very rough part of town. There’s a lot of gang activity in that area.”
“Fuck! I’ll have to put a guard on the place until I can get her out of there.”
“That’s what I’d do. I think I found everything there is to find, but if you want me to keep looking, I can.”
“Thanks, Quin. I’d appreciate that. I better go and make a few calls. I need to get a man on her place asap.”
Quin walked him to the door. “Good Luck, Marcus. You’re a lucky man. Maybe one of these days I’ll be blessed with a mate, too.”
“You will. Just give it a little more time.”
The moment Marcus was on the road, he had Cade on the line. “I need a guard posted outside of Cassidy’s rental in Tremé.”
There was a pause, then Cade asked, “Did you say Tremé? Why the hell would she get a place there? We pay her enough to rent a condo in the quarter or an apartment in the garden district.”
Marcus sighed. He was tired, so tired, and now afraid for Cassidy’s life. “I have no idea. All I know is she’s in danger, and I want her guarded. Make sure whoever watches her stays out of sight.”
“Consider it done. I’ll see you at ten a.m. in my office. I want a briefing on what Quin found. Before you blow a gasket, I don’t need her personal information just enough to keep you safe.”
“I’ll be there. Thanks, Cade.”
“No thanks needed. She’s your mate, and if we get through this mess, she’s family. Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I’ll try.” Marcus ended the call and banged his head on the headrest. Cassidy was going to drive him insane.
Six
Marcus needed a grande coffee or three, stat. Sure he had a guard on Cassidy last night, but that didn’t mean he got a wink of sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, visions of her being attacked or worse played like a horror movie through his mind. Which was idiotic. According to Quin, the woman was lethal, with or without a weapon. That made no difference to his manic brain, though. So here he was at his second favorite coffee shop standing at the counter waiting for his hot cup of wake-up juice, yawning.
The barista handed him a steaming cup just in time to see him yawn again. “Here you go, Mr. Le Beau.”
“Thanks, Judy.” He headed straight to his favorite table and all but fell into the booth. Man, he was tired. Hanging his head over the cup, he took a deep breath. God, he loved the smell of freshly brewed coffee. He was about to take a sip when a passerby bumped his elbow, splashing coffee across the table. Damn it. Getting to his feet, he headed to the condiments counter to grab a pile of paper napkins.
It was the work of a minute to wipe up the mess. Wrapping his hand around the warm cup, he blew across the surface. Lifting it to his lips, he paused. Why was Judy waving her arms like a madwoman? Trying to make out what she was going on about, he lifted it a little higher. His wolf lunged forward, snapping its jaws at the cup. What the heck was going on? By now, Judy was around the counter, moving fast.
“Mr. Le Beau! Don’t!” she shouted as she neared his booth.
Slowly he lowered the coffee to the tabletop. “What’s wrong?”
“I saw someone dump something into your cup.”
“What did the person look like?” Please, God, don’t let her describe Cassidy.
“A man, I think. Tall, thin, wearing blue jeans, a black hoodie with the hood up, and dark sunglasses.”
Marcus glanced at the ceiling and into the corners. There were six cameras by his count. “I’ll want to see the security tape.”
“Absolutely. I’ll have the manager get that ready right now. Should I call the police?”
“No. I’ll take care of it. Thank you, Judy. You’re a lifesaver.”
The instant she left the table, he lifted the cup to his nose. He sniffed the rim, body, and handle. There were only two scents, his and Judy’s. That made sense if Mr. Hoodie didn’t touch the cup. Next, he sniffed the outside of the booth. There were too many layers of scents to distinguish who the perpetrator was, but he was able to verify none of them were Cassidy.
Finally, he sniffed the coffee. Tainted. A vague memory niggled the back of his mind. He’d smelled that aroma before, he just couldn’t place where. Heading back to the condiment station, he nabbed a to-go cup and lid. His mother would ferret out what was in his coffee.
“The manager is waiting for you in his office. I can show you the way,” Judy said as she joined him.
“Thanks.” He followed her behind the counter and into the kitchen. At the far end was a door, marked manager. Pretty hard to miss. “Say, a while back, didn’t you tell me you’re attending Tulane?”
Judy sighed. “Yeah. I had to cut back to one or two classes a semester. That’s all I can afford. It’s going to take me forever to graduate.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She gave him a sad smile and indicated the door. “I’ll be back in a minute with a fresh cup of coffee.”
Marcus gave her his brightest smile. “You’re the best.” As he watched her go, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and texted his father.
M: Hey, Dad. I need you to put together a full scholarship at Tulane for Judy at the coffee shop. Add in a master’s degree while you’re at it. I’ll explain later.
A moment later, Isaac responded. I: I’m on it. See you soon.
With that, Marcus knocked on the manager’s door and let himself inside.
* * * * *
Cassidy checked the time. Again. If she spent one more minute sitting behind a desk waiting for Marcus to show up, she’d grow roots. He had told her that work started at eight. It was now nine. She got to her feet, determined to go in search of Mr. Le Beau, as in Marcus’s father when the office door burst open, and two smiling women headed straight for her. What the heck was going on?
The redhaired woman held out her hand, while the blonde eyed her suspiciously. “Hi there. I’m Anna, Cade’s wife, and this is Sara, Seth’s wife.” Anna paused, her brows bunching slightly. “I don’t think you met Seth yet. He’s another of the Le Beau brothers.” Anna smiled brightly again and shrugged. “Anyway, we’ve come to take you out for coffee. I know the cutest little shop on Royal with an awesome courtyard.”
Cassidy glanced from one woman to the other. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m not sure I should leave without talking to Marcus.”
Anna waved her excuse away. “He knows we’re here. He’s busy dealing with something and won’t be in the office for a couple of hours.”
“All the more reason I should stay and do security sweeps. If he isn’t here, we’re shorthanded.”
Anna snorted. “We have an army of security guards. As a matter of fact, I just saw one walking the halls.” Anna turned and headed for the door. “Let’s get going before it’s too hot to sit outside. I want to enjoy the patio.”
Cassidy followed the Le Beau women into a long narrow coffee shop. The delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee and hot-from-the-oven baked goods tantalized her nose. Her gaze went to the painted ceiling, brick walls, tiled floor, finally, the cute bistro tables. “All of this and coffee to boot? I’m in love,” Cassidy said quietly.
“I know, right? I love Café Beignet,” Sara said from behind her.
Anna nodded toward the open patio doors. “Why don’t you guys grab a table before they’re all take
n while I get the coffee. I’m getting a pastry, too. Do you all want something to eat?”
“I want beignets,” Sara said.
Cassidy looked over the menu board. “There are so many things to choose from. Surprise me.” When Anna grinned, she feared she was in trouble.
Cassidy followed Sara to the only open table. Taking a seat, she had to smile. They were along the fence line, edging the sidewalk. Why hadn’t the other patrons taken the table? It was a prime spot, perfect for people watching.
When a plate of beignets appeared before her, Cassidy gaped at Anna in disbelief. The powdered sugar mountain on top of each of the fried sweetbread squares mocked her azure blue blouse and black suit. It’s not like she could take the jacket off. If she did, Anna and Sara would see her weapons. “You don’t like me much, do you?” Cassidy asked without looking away from the disaster on the plate.
Anna laughed. “Nonsense. As a matter of fact, I like you a lot. You can’t be in New Orleans without having beignets. I think there might even be a law about it.”
Very slowly, Cassidy lifted her fork. There had to be a way to eat these without wearing white stains for the rest of the day. Tapping into the sniper she was, she tested the breeze. It was coming from her right but had a small swirl to it as it bounced off the two walls of the patio. Very carefully, she spread a napkin out next to her plate and scraped the powdered sugar off the left edge of the pastry. The breeze picked up wisps of the powder and carried them away from her. Thank God. Once she had them free of the white stuff, she cut a corner and popped it in her mouth. The bit of sweet goodness burst over her tongue. She’d expected nothing more than a square donut. This was so much better. “This is really good!”
When she glanced at Anna, the woman’s mouth was agape. A quick glance at Sara told her she wore an identical expression. “What?”
“I’ve never seen anyone do that?” Sara whispered as if she were scandalized.
“Me either,” Anna whispered back.
Cassidy lowered her fork. “What are you talking about?”
Sara pointed at the mountain of powdered sugar beside her plate. “That.”