"And you said he’s taking control of West Harlem, right?"
"Right."
"That's right in wolf territory, right? On the border?"
"That's right."
My mind raced. I knew that the wolves, who controlled most of Midtown, had been having border disputes with the Tigers for quite some time. The wolves wanted to move up past Central Park, and the Tigers were keen on moving down into the Upper West Side. Things had been tense between the species, but calm so far. "You think whoever wants to kill Emmanuel has that in mind?"
Jack's jaw worked as he thought it over. "Maybe," he said. "But to be honest, I'm not too concerned about that. I'm just doing what I've been told, which is to watch this asshole for twenty-four hours and make sure he doesn't get up to any trouble."
This whole situation struck me as strange. I didn't have a chance to look over Jack's record, but just from what I was able to see at Ms. Delahunt's office, Jack was a highly decorated agent. So, why was he doing work like this that should've been assigned to a couple of newbies like me? And if he was so keen on not working with a partner, then why was I here? There was something going on, but before I had a chance to think too much about it, Jack gunned the engine, weaving in and out of traffic.
"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth. "We're losing him."
I looked ahead and sure enough, the limo was shrinking in the distance.
Jack did what he could to keep up, but the limo was breaking away. "How could he know I'm following him?" Jack asked.
I didn't know what to say, or if an answer was even necessary, so I kept quiet. We drove on, the Williamsburg Bridge long behind us as we made our way up the length of Manhattan. Soon, we were in Midtown, the towers of the area looming above us, the morning sun cutting through and illuminating long strips of the streets.
"I think he's going to Grand Central Station," I said, recognizing the route the limo was taking.
"Yeah, you're right," Jack said.
I did all I could to suppress a smile. What could I say? I was eager to please.
It didn’t take long for the grand façade of the station to become visible on the left-hand side of the street, and Emmanuel stepped out, the women trailing behind him as he hurried into the station.
"If he thinks we're trailing him, he's gonna try and lose us in there." Jack's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Okay, you want to help?"
I turned to him with eager eyes.
"Then here's what's gonna happen. You get out here and get into the station. Find Emmanuel, and figure out what train he's taking. If we know the train, we can patch into the security cameras at HQ and figure out where he's going. I'll catch up, but you need to find him and not let him out of your sight, not for a second until you know what train he's on."
"Got it," I said.
"I can't let the limo see my car, so I'm gonna try to lose him. Get out now, and meet me at the main stairs in twenty. Go!"
Jack pulled to the curb, reached over, and opened the door. I stepped out onto the bustling sidewalk and hurried toward Grand Central, my heart already pounding. After crossing the two blocks, I entered the station and made my way through the crowds, scanning the long hall for any sign of Emmanuel. But I couldn't see him. I made my way down the low-ceilinged path to the main hub of the station, when I stepped into vast, cathedral-like space of the terminal, my heart sank when I saw the crowds of hundreds. There seemed to be no way that I'd find him.
But just when I'd lost hope, the booming laugh that I'd heard in the diner sounded out throughout the terminal. I turned in the direction that it came from and, sure enough, there was Emmanuel, the two girls still at his sides. I rushed around the tight knots of people, wishing I were taller than my five-five height. At the moment, I would've killed to be the size of a linebacker and so I could storm through the people like nothing. Instead, I let out a litany of "sorrys" and "excuse-mes" as I made my way through, my heart pounding for fear of losing Emmanuel in the crowd again.
Finally, I arrived at the tunnel that he'd gone down, which led not to the subways but the trains out of the city.
Is he going to Jersey? Is he fleeing the city?
Knowing that I didn't have time to think about it, I hurried down after Emmanuel. The crowd thickened as I went, and only his garish suit allowed me to keep my eye on him. Soon, we arrived at a smaller terminal that led to four different trains, each with its own tunnel. I watched as Emmanuel slipped past the ticket terminal, heading toward one of the trains.
Okay, I thought, allowing myself to catch my breath. Now I just need to see which one he takes.
I moved closer to a wall, leaning against it and trying to make myself inconspicuous.
Emmanuel approached the gates, and I narrowed my eyes as he moved closer. But just as he and his girls turned toward their destination, a hand clapped down on my shoulder. It touched me heavy and hard, and as I turned, I said, "Hey, he's going into the gate n—"
I was expecting Jack. But that wasn't who was standing there. Not at all.
The man with his hand on my shoulder was tall and slim in a perfectly tailored, coal black suit. The gleam from his expensive shoes flashed out of the corner of my eyes and as I turned up to look him in the eyes, a gasp escaped my lips.
His face was hard and angular, Nordic almost, and impossibly beautiful. His hair was so blonde that it was nearly white, and it was long and slicked back in a tight style. And his eyes…they were an inhuman dark blue, a color that almost seemed to glow. And golden rings framed his pupils. His mouth was pulled up in the corners, forming a broad, scheming smile that showed a thin sliver of his ivory-white teeth. I could tell that he was a shifter right away, but he was a species that I'd never seen.
"Be careful," he said, holding up a single, long finger, as if in warning.
His voice…there was something odd about it. It was a tone that seemed to make my bones throb in my body. I couldn't even begin to form words as this man looked down at me, and before I could react, he took his heavy hand from my shoulder and walked off.
I stood there, watching him disappear into the crowd. Then, my mind snapped back to attention when I realized that I'd taken my eyes off of Emmanuel. I turned back to his direction and scanned the crowd, my eyes darting frantically from here to there. But it was no use—the few seconds that the strange man had distracted me were all that it'd taken for him to head down the gate. My target was long gone.
"Fuck!" I shouted, stomping on the ground, the impact sending a quick wave of pain up my leg.
And right at that moment, Jack arrived. He ran through the crowd, stopping at my side. My heart sank when I realized that I was going to have to tell him that I'd failed.
"Where is he?" Jack demanded, looking over my shoulder. "Where'd he go?"
But my expression must've been all he needed to know that I'd screwed up.
Some first day on the job, right?
CHAPTER 3
JACK
"You've gotta be kidding me with this chick!" I said, feeling like I was going to burst out of my skin as stood in Ms. Delahunt's office.
I was hoping to get through to her at least a little bit, to properly convey just how much this newbie had fucked up the operation. But instead, Ms. Delahunt raised one of her slim, silver eyebrows, a gesture that I interpreted as a signal to settle myself down. So, I took a slow, deep breath. The last thing I wanted was to get yet another reprimand for insubordination on my record.
"Calm down, Jack," Ms. Delahunt said, weaving her long fingers together. "And sit down. You're making me anxious."
It frustrated me to no end just how even keeled Ms. Delahunt could be. An elder wolf shifter, she was made for a job like this that required a cool head and a logical, scheming mind. I was half-considering shifting into my bear form right here in her office just to get a rise out of her. Instead, I slid into the high-backed chair across from her desk.
"Tell me again what happened," she said, dipping a bag of earl gray tea into a steaming hot cup o
f water.
"What else do you need to know? We were tailing Martin and the girl lost him—simple as that."
"Well, from what Agent Helmsley says, it's not that simple."
"What, you think some guy asking her for direction or whatever it was and distracting her should have some bearing on her performance?"
"You're letting your temper get the best of you," Ms. Delahunt said. "Watch the debriefing again."
"I don't wa—"
But then she held up a finger, and that was that. Ms. Delahunt made a few keystrokes and brought up the TV behind her desk, the stuffed owl mounted above staring down at me with a look I always imagined was something close to disdain. The picture filled with Agent Helmsley seated at a table with one of our other agents, another wolf, I think, taking notes.
"Describe the man who got your attention."
"He was tall—very tall. And, um, well, beautiful."
"Beautiful?"
"Yes. Flawless fair skin and the blondest hair that I'd ever seen…almost like an albino, but not quite. And his eyes…they were a blue that almost looked fake. A perfect, deep blue. He was almost otherworldly."
She hit pause on the screen, the image still with a close-up of Agent Helmsley's face, her expression one of concern. I couldn’t help but notice that she was quite the looker: her hair was a lovely straw blonde, her eyes were a forest green, her lips a red Cupid's bow, and her face almost perfectly heart-shaped. She had an innocent look, something I'd expect from a young girl working part-time at her university's library. A very pretty girl—too bad her skills as an agent were currently a source of unspeakable agitation to me.
"Anything odd strike you about her statement?"
"Otherworldly…" I repeated the word she'd used to describe the man.
"That's right."
"Surely, you're not suggesting…" I said, the corner of my mouth curling up as I spoke, in almost amused surprise.
"It sounds to me like a dragon."
My blood began to boil at the word. There were few things I hated worse than the dragons. "But dragons don't just make appearances like that," I said. "They're too busy living in their hundred-million-dollar penthouses and lording over the rest of us."
"It's not common, but they do make appearances among us riff-raff every now and then."
"But why?" I asked, still confused. "Why would a dragon show up at Grand Central station to mess with an agent on a stakeout?"
"How the hell should I know? That's your job to figure out, if you remember. My job is to make sure you field pups stay on task. And to ensure sure you're playing nice."
And now we're at that part of the meeting.
After Agent Helmsley had her little fuck-up, I made it clear to her in no uncertain terms that I…wasn't pleased, to say the least. I may have been a little, let's say "uncouth," but I'd been trailing this asshole Martin for the last twenty-four hours. So, when some newbie shows up in the middle of my operation, bothers me with questions, screws the damn thing up, then tries to blame it all on some mystery man in a suit, well, it didn't result in the most level-headed reaction on the way back from Grand Central.
"You're going to need to apologize," Ms. Delahunt said, her voice the same stern tone that reminded me of how an elementary teacher might talk when mediating between two squabbling students.
"This is why I don't work with partners," I said, looking away.
"I know why you don't work with partners, Jack. But you lost your solo privileges when you gave that fox a working over."
"Fine, fine," I said, not wanting to go through the process of getting raked over the coals for that again.
"Until you show that you can play nice, it's a tango-for-two with you."
"Is why I'm working with the newbie to end all newbies?"
Ms. Delahunt tapped her nose, letting me know that I'd got it.
"A little messed up that you'd pair me with a dud of a partner just to teach me a lesson."
"Please, we're not that petty," Ms. Delahunt said. "If she was incompetent she never would've made it through the front door. Here—take a look at this."
Ms. Delahunt put in a few more keystrokes, and seconds later, Agent Delahunt's record was on the screen. "See those test scores?"
I did. My eyebrows nearly shot off my damn head when I read them.
"You sure she didn't cheat?"
Ms. Delahunt responded with narrow eyes and a smirk, as if to bust my chops for even suggesting that someone would be able to cheat on the tests. "She's one of the brightest agents we've ever had join us. But, well, just take a look at this."
Ms. Delahunt typed again, and the screen changed to the words "AGENT 499-B FIRING RANGE TESTS." A camera angle from the upper-corner wall of firing range appeared on the screen. Agent Helmsley stood at the front of the range, her supervising agent standing nearby.
"Umm," Agent Helmsley said, holding the gun hesitantly, "so I just…point and shoot? Like a camera?"
"Yes," the agent said, his tone one of frustration, "just like a camera."
Brother, I know just how you feel, I thought.
"Oh, okay," Agent Helmsley said.
Then, with all the confidence of a shy high schooler approaching her crush to ask him to the Sadie Hawkins, Nadia raised the gun.
"Here we go…" she said.
A bang sounded from the gun, the shot going wild, a ricochet pinging haphazardly.
"Oh, no!"
She fired again and again, as if the gun had taken on a life of its own. More pinging sounded, followed by the yelling of someone in one of the other ranges.
"Just give me that," the supervisor said, taking the gun away.
"Sorry…" Agent Helmsley said, sheepishly handing over the gun.
"Impressive stuff," I said.
"Don't be a smartass," Ms. Delahunt said, hitting pause on the video. "But you get the picture. Figures that we wouldn't be so lucky as to find a gifted young agent who also could fire a gun without hitting everything but the target."
"Can't win ‘em all," I said.
"You know," Ms. Delahunt said. "She reminds me of you, in a way."
"Excuse me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms over my chest. "I can hit a damn tin can off a fence post from a hundred paces, thank-you-very-much."
"No, not that," Ms. Delahunt said. "The potential. You were like her once—green and out of your element, killer test scores under your belt, your career laid out in front of you. Even a little bit of a goody-goody."
"I wouldn't go that far."
"And now…I can't even put you with a partner without it being an issue. I know what happened wasn't the easiest thing to go through, but that doesn't mean you can just make up your own rules, operating like some kind of Sapien franchise."
"If it's how I get things done, then why not just let me do it?"
Ms. Delahunt leaned forward. "Because that's not how things work around here. We're a team. And part of being a team is giving guidance to those of us who need it. And this girl needs it."
"Fine."
"You say that like you had a choice in the matter," Ms. Delahunt said, allowing a rare hint of a smirk to cross her lips. "And this isn't just your duty. I picked her for a few reasons, one of which is that I think it'll help you to work with someone who's chosen to be a part of our organization out of an eagerness to do some good."
"We'll see about that," I said.
"Anyway, go meet up with your partner. She should be finishing her debriefing now."
I gave a dutiful nod, stood up, and headed to the door.
"And, Jack," Ms. Delahunt said.
I turned my head.
"Go easy on the kid."
I nodded again and threw a wave over my shoulder as I headed out. Making my way to the debriefing room, I passed the familiar faces of other Sapiens, getting past them with the minimum of social effort. I found it hard to believe that many of these other agents were shifters who I'd be close with years ago, ones who'd I'd been on lif
e-and-death-operations with, but were now just passing faces. Things had really changed over the last few years.
When I arrived at one of the office areas, the place buzzed with activity as agents zipped around. Scanning the room, I spotted Agent Helmsley sitting forlornly in a chair away from everyone else. She had a faraway look on her face as she stared off into the middle distance. I wasn't looking forward to the inevitable pep-talk, but Ms. Delahunt was right—it wasn't as though I could get out of this partner obligation. Working solo was a luxury, and if I wanted to get back to it, the best thing to do would just be to help this little baby bird learn how to use her wings.
"Hey," I said, pouring myself a cup of coffee from the pot nearby.
Agent Helmsley slowly turned her head up, and I could see that she was taking her little fuck-up pretty hard. I took a long sip of the hot coffee, hoping it'd wake me up. I was running on zero sleep at this point, and I was gonna need all the help I could get to make it through the rest of the day.
"I screwed up," she said, blurting out her sins as though we were in a confessional booth.
"Yeah, you did," I said. Hey, no sense in sugar-coating it.
"But, that man…"
"I get it," I said. "Weird guy out of nowhere."
She turned her gaze to me, looking up with her big, green eyes.
This is why I hate working with women, I thought. They know, whether consciously or not, how to get you to stop being mad at them. Hard to stay pissed when a cute girl's looking up at you like this.
"No point ruminating on it," I said.
"Then tell me what I can do," she said. "I want to help. I know that you don't normally work with partners, which is weird, but whatever. I want to not be a pain in your butt. Tell me how to help."
At least she was saying the right words. Good thing about most newbies is that they're eager to please.
"We get back on the trail. I've been following Martin long enough to know that even if he did leave the city, he won't be gone for long. And I know where he lives."
"Wait," Agent Helmsley said. "You want to break into his place?"
I shrugged. "Hey, if he's gonna be out of town, might as well take advantage of it."
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