Hidden Powers

by Tara Lain

  He pressed the up button on the elevator and leaned against the wall. Who knew a gofer job could be so dangerous?

  Chapter Eight

  NARDO STARED at Evenride and tried to overcome his annoyance. The human sat there in the guest chair, legs crossed, preening, so proud of himself, though for what, he didn’t know. “So you have a report?”

  “I certainly do. As you requested, I went to Vanessen Enterprises and spoke to my contacts, but I didn’t want to show my hand, so I sent my bodyguard to snoop around a little. Sure enough, the Vanessen kid was there!” He sat back in the chair and practically gave himself a hand for discovering something he could have determined with a phone call. “He was meeting with that fag, Lindsey Vanessen, and some other young kids. I heard they’re all interns, so I’m guessing he’s probably going to be there a lot.”

  “All right. That’s good to know.” He glanced at his hands. “So your bodyguard snooped. What exactly did that involve?”

  “He walked around and opened doors and shit like that. Real clever. He’d say ‘Sorry. Wrong room.’”

  “So he actually saw the Vanessen boy?”

  “Yes. I think so.” He slapped a hand on his overdressed thigh. “You’re going to love this. I was waiting for my car near the Vanessen building when the kid comes out and hops in a cab. I tell my driver to follow him. He gets out at this other high-rise a few blocks away. The cab goes and the kid runs in, then comes out a couple minutes later with an envelope. So we followed him. He trotted into a Starbucks and—are you ready for this?—comes out hefting this big drink carrier full of ventis. Seriously! Jazz Vanessen, who’s gonna inherit like three or four states, I think, is lugging around coffee.” He leaned forward confidentially. “He’s on the wrong side of the street, so I tell my bodyguard to get out and follow him, just to see if anything interesting happened.”

  Nardo tried not to yawn. “And did it?”

  “Remember how I told you I saw this kid climb a tree?”

  “Yes. Yes.”

  “So my bodyguard runs into the kid. I didn’t tell him to do that, you understand. I guess he wanted to improvise, maybe embarrass the kid. Jealous, you know.” He shrugged. “But that’s not what happened. The kid caught the cups as they flew through the air and set each one on the ground as if he was having a tea party. He didn’t spill a single drop. Man, what are the chances?”

  Nardo raised his eyebrows. “Not very likely at all.” He cocked his head. “But your bodyguard ran into him?”

  “Yeah.”

  He frowned. “It didn’t cross anyone’s mind that the boy might see you, recognize you, and wonder why you were there?”

  “Oh, well, uh….”

  He narrowed his eyes, and Evenride looked like he might piss his pants.

  “Stand by. I may need your contacts at Vanessen again. But you have to be more careful.”

  “Yes, sir. No problem. Anything you need done, I’m here.”

  “Good. That’s all.”

  Evenride practically ran from the office.

  Damn the fucking human. If the boy was as capable a werewolf as he appeared to be from that fool’s description, then the chances were good he knew someone was after him.

  Nardo stared into the blankness of space. Am I after him? His being an alpha in itself isn’t all that interesting. While not exactly a dime a dozen, alpha males can be acquired anywhere.

  He picked up two hollow metal balls filled with bells that he’d gotten in China and rotated them in his huge hand, the little chimes tinkling.

  But if that boy saw me at the pack meeting—saw me when none could see me—he’s more than just a werewolf. Especially if he has anything to do with the power surges that have occurred lately.

  Nardo stood. I need to find out. Because if those things are true, then yes, I’m very much after him.

  He swallowed an uncharacteristic bubble of excitement, threw the balls in the air, and caught them.

  WHEN JAZZ, Lindsey, and Pop-Pop got to the helipad, Carla sat thumbing through her phone.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting, Carla.” Lindsey smiled.

  She bounced up at the sight of her “big bosses.” “No worries. I’m just excited to fly in the helicopter.”

  One of Pop-Pop’s assistants walked them over, placing a paper in front of Pop-Pop to sign. Then they climbed on board. Once they were in the air, Lindsey leaned forward and spoke loudly above the noise of the rotors. “So what is it you’ve been trying to tell me?”

  Jazz said, “It may be nothing.”

  Carla whipped her head around from staring out the window. “He doesn’t think it’s nothing.”

  Jazz gave her a glance. “At the picnic, remember we talked about that kid, Donald, and his father, the slick dude who was hanging out with the assistant governor?”

  “Evenride. Donald Evenride. The father is Karl.” Carla sat on the edge of her seat.

  “Right. At the picnic, the father had this big dude bodyguard with him.”

  Lindsey nodded. “Okay. What’s the point?”

  Jazz frowned. “It seemed like Evenride didn’t start out too interested in me, but after we climbed the tree to get that kid, he was suddenly all over me and wanted to meet me. His bodyguard kept looking at me.” Jazz glanced down, then up into Lindsey’s eyes. “I saw him at the office today. He was the guy who crashed our meeting, remember? The one who stuck his head in? His being there weirded me out, so I followed him, and he went up to the floor where all your board members have offices. I talked to the administrative assistant up there.”

  “Gloria Lespers?” Pop-Pop asked.

  “Yeah. Cool lady. Apparently Evenride was in with the assistant chairman of the board or somebody like that. I told her who I was, and she said she’d let me know if she found out anything interesting.”

  Lindsey and Pop-Pop glanced at each other.

  “I guess I thought it was strange to see this guy at the picnic and then have him show up here talking to one of the board members. I guess it could be total coincidence, but I don’t think so.”

  Carla crinkled her nose. “My folks don’t like the Evenrides at all.” She snorted.

  Pop-Pop leaned back against the seat, frowning.

  “Do you think it means anything, sir?” Carla asked him.

  “I don’t know. Do you know this man, Lindsey? This Evenride?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Is there any connection you can think of between Lenard Orwell and the governor?”

  “Orwell? Is that the assistant chairman of your board?” Carla asked.

  “Yes. Is the name familiar, Carla?”

  She wrinkled her forehead. “No, sir. I’ll ask my dad, though.”

  “Yes, that would be good.” Pop-Pop looked up at Lindsey with those scary intelligent eyes. “Failing some recognition by Dave Mendes, the only connection we know for sure between the picnic and our office is Jazz and Carla. You saw this bodyguard when he broke in on your meeting, but he probably also saw you. Maybe he was looking for one of you.”

  “Why?” Carla frowned.

  “No idea. But perhaps we need to find out.”

  Jazz glanced at Carla then back at Pop-Pop. “Uh, actually I went to get some coffee and stuff today for my supervisor.”

  Lindsey grinned. “Oh, the joys of being an intern.”

  “Yeah, well, I had the feeling I was being followed.” He stared at Lindsey, trying to get him to understand what he meant by “feeling.” “Maybe it was nothing, but I was kind of creeped out.”

  “You never said anything,” Carla said, obviously a little put out.

  “This is the first I’ve seen you since it happened, and it could be all in my head.” But he knew it wasn’t.

  She shuddered. “Jeez, that gives me goose bumps. Why do you think somebody like Evenride would want to follow you? I mean, I didn’t get the idea he even knew who you were before the picnic.”

  Jazz shrugged. “Me either.”

  “I don’t wa
nt you to worry about this yet, but we’ll watch it closely,” Pop-Pop said. “If either of you see Evenride or his bodyguard again, then—” Pop-Pop’s phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket. “Excuse me.” He glanced at the screen, his eyes widened, and then he put it to his ear. “This is Casper Vanessen.”

  He listened, cocking his head, then glanced at Jazz. “Yes, Jazz told me about how thrilled he was to meet you.” Pop-Pop’s eyes flicked to Carla. “He did. I see. Well, both Carla and Jazz have just started an internship with Vanessen Enterprises this summer.” He paused. “Yes, of course. Oh, very interesting. He would?” He looked at Lindsey. “I’d have to consult with my staff, but I imagine we can make space for another intern.”

  Lindsey looked totally confused, but Jazz was getting a clue. Another intern? Who would be calling Pop-Pop about an internship? There was only one possibility.

  “I see. With the Mendes family?” He nodded toward Carla absently. “Excellent. Can I reach you back at this number? All right, thank you so much for calling. I’ll get back to you as soon as I talk to my staff.”

  “Who the heck do you think that is?” Carla whispered.

  “I’ve got an idea.” Jazz held up a finger.

  “I assure you, the pleasure’s all mine. We’ll speak again soon. Yes. Goodbye.” Pop-Pop finished the call.

  Lindsey pounced before Jazz could. “Who was that?”

  Pop-Pop chuckled. “That, ladies and gentlemen, was Lysandra Mason.”

  Jazz nodded and swallowed hard.

  “Apparently she was more than serious about connecting you and Carla with her nephew this summer,” he said, turning to Jazz.

  “Dash Ex?” Carla looked stunned.

  Pop-Pop gave her a confused look. “I believe she called him Dash, yes. Anyway, it seems she’s already spoken with your family, Carla, and they’ve extended an invitation to Dash to come and stay with you for a while this summer at the mansion. I gather your father told Ms. Mason about your internship, and she approached me about the possibility of Dash joining you two as an intern. She assures me he’ll work for free.”

  Jazz’s mouth opened, closed, then reopened, but still nothing came out. Dash Mercury working at Vanessen. Staying with Carla? He’d see him every day. Could his libido take that? Worse, could pack secrecy take that?

  “Since I’m fairly sure Lindsey can persuade another department to take on a bright young man they don’t have to pay, I’ll leave this up to you,” Pop-Pop said to Lindsey. Then he looked at Jazz and Carla. “What did you two think of Dash Mercury? It sounds like you might have him around no matter your opinion, Carla, but I can refuse to hire him if he’s someone you’d rather not have around.”

  She waved a hand. “Naw, he seemed lit. Don’t you think, Jazz?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Lit is a good thing, I believe,” Pop-Pop said. “So you’d vote to let Dash Mercury become an intern of Vanessen Enterprises, Jazz? Remember, this is your company too. Is he a good employment risk?”

  Jazz quirked a half-grin. “You mean will he be worth what you’re paying him?”

  “No. Will he be an asset to your company and a good addition to the Vanessen corporate culture and family?”

  That did make it sound a lot more serious. Man, spending the summer wiping drool from his lip while staring at the world’s most gorgeous guy was not what he’d anticipated. He glanced at Carla. She stared back at him with a little Mona Lisa smile. “Yeah,” he said. “He seems smart, and I can’t imagine Lysandra Mason keeping a jerk around. I think you should hire him.”

  Pop-Pop smiled. “Excellent. I’ll call her back as soon as we get home.”

  “WHEN’S HE coming?” Jazz shoved the last edge of his double-decker turkey and ham sandwich into his mouth, then took a drink of iced tea. Around them, every table was filled with Vanessen employees downing lunch.

  Carla politely munched her chicken salad while Jazz reached for his second double decker—this one beef, avocado, and cheese. He couldn’t survive another afternoon with no food.

  Carla stared at his lunch like she always did but gave him no snark about how he could eat a whole cow and two turkeys and never gain a pound. Sadly, he didn’t need her to remind him. “Friday,” she said. “Actually, he’s arriving from wherever he is Thursday night and he’ll come to work on Friday. Or at least that’s the plan I heard. I don’t know why he’s not waiting until Monday. But—” She shrugged. “—I guess he wants to get caught up as fast as he can.”

  Jazz raised an eyebrow. “As if the protégé of one of the world’s smartest women, a guy who’s a male Helen of Troy, could possibly catch up to us?” He waggled a finger between them.

  “So true.”

  They both burst out laughing at the same time.

  “Hey, you guys, what’s funny?” BeBop walked up to the table carrying his lunch on a tray, with Khadija beside him. BeBop started unloading his plates and utensils on the table, but Khadija asked politely, “May we join you?”

  Carla patted the seat next to her. “Sure.”

  Khadija sat and left the salad on her tray.

  “We were joking about an acquaintance of ours who’s starting here on Friday as another intern,” Jazz said.

  Khadija carefully took a bite. “Is he a funny person?”

  Carla shook her head. “We don’t actually know him that well.”

  BeBop waved his fork. “So he’s not funny?”

  “I guess we’ll all find out.”

  “So we’re gonna be the Fab Five instead of the Forgettable Four, huh?” BeBop added.

  Carla raised her eyebrows. “He’s not forgettable, that’s for sure.”

  “Oh really?”

  “You’ll see.”

  BeBop leaned back in his chair until it balanced on two legs. “So what do ya say you two—” He flipped his finger between Jazz and Carla. “—join us two—” He pointed at himself and Khadija. “—for some liquid refreshment after work. Would you have a way to get home?”

  Jazz cocked his head. “Uh, BeBop, not meaning to get all law enforcement on you, but aren’t you a little young to be drinking?”

  BeBop spread his arms. “Hey, daddy, I’m not talking about alcohol. I’m discussing something much better.”

  “Khadija, what’s this man talking about?” Carla asked.

  She grinned shyly. “Milkshakes.” She pressed a finger over her smile. “He’s an ice cream enthusiast, and he knows about a new place that claims they make New York’s best ice cream sodas and shakes.”

  BeBop leaned forward. “Right, baby. I’m thinking burgers, right? With all the decorations. And then we test a flight of shakes and choose our faves. Ya dig?”

  Jazz laughed because he had to. The guy was damned cute. A fifteen-year-old hipster. Jazz looked at Carla, who was barely holding back her laughter too. “What do you think, Carla? Want to take the late train home?”

  She clutched her chest. “And give up the helicopter?”

  BeBop shook his head. “That’s the sacrifice you’ll have to make to explore new worlds of culinary delight.”

  “How can I say no?” She laughed too.

  “You’re welcome to stay at my place in the city tonight, but then you’d have to hang with my uncle, and nobody wants to do that voluntarily, so I’d advise the late train.”

  BeBop was obviously joking, but Jazz smelled a layer of something like deceit, but not quite. More of a cover-up under his snarky remark. Wonder what the story is?

  Chapter Nine

  “OH WOW!” Carla pointed madly toward her milkshake.

  Jazz laughed. “Which one is it?”

  “Chocolate peanut butter.” Carla slurped the last bit at the bottom of the small container. BeBop hadn’t been kidding about the “flight” of flavors. The store offered a special on five small glasses of different milkshake flavors, and if you picked one, they’d fill it up again.

  Jazz slurped loudly. “I like coconut crunch.” What he really liked were the d
ouble-double cheeseburgers, extra rare, but he wasn’t going to say that. “What about you, Khadija?”

  She didn’t slurp, but said politely, “The raspberry is excellent, though I like them all.”

  BeBop threw himself backward in his chair. “What? Nobody named Live by Chocolate, which is so transparently the best of the best.”

  The restaurant turned out to be super fun, even if it did charge New York tariffs for milkshakes and burgers. Nobody freaked at the prices. Of course, Carla was the governor’s daughter. But what about the other two?

  “So you live in the city, Khadija?”

  She smiled softly. “Yes, I live with my sisters. They are rather conservative, so I’m afraid I cannot invite you to stay with us tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s okay.”

  “Do your sisters work in the city too?” Carla asked.

  “Yes. In the family business.”

  “Oh cool. What’s that?”

  “Maintenance and security.”

  “Umm.” She slurped her drink. “So you decided to go a different way?”

  “I’m undecided as yet. But I felt this internship would be excellent experience for whatever I end up doing.”

  “True that.” BeBop leaned on his arms on the table and gazed at Dij with what looked like fascination. Was the kid interested in her? BeBop couldn’t be more than fifteen, if that. Khadija had to be eighteen or nineteen. Plus, the head scarf and what she’d said about her sisters pointed to a lot of tradition and a world of hurt for a lovestruck infidel.

  She gave BeBop a simple nod. Jazz’s nose said what she’d told them was true—as far as it went. This one was a total iceberg. Most of who she was remained under the surface.

  “We gotta work on your self-confidence, Dij,” BeBop said. “Toughen you up so you can stand up to those Muslim females. Tell ’em what’s what.”

  “You’re very kind, BeBop, but in fact neither I nor my sisters are Muslim. Like the ladies of Islam, we wear our head scarves as part of our traditions. I believe, however, that my sisters respect me. They’re just more traditional than I am.”