by Josie Hunter
Santos blinked, stared at her for a minute, and then gave her a weak smile. “I’ve already told you, querida. I’m—”
“I don’t believe you’re sick,” she snapped. “Are you planning to test my blood to see if it contains the same properties that Juan had in his?” Rosa lifted her chin. “I’m not a scientist, but I think my blood contains a genetic mutation that allows you to engineer previously unknown poisons.”
Robb swiveled his face between the stunned older man and Rosa, his dream girl. Her cheeks darkened as her breathing quickened. Oh, he knew that look all too well from being married to Katharine. Rosa was ready to go for the kill. Normally so cool and collected, she looked ready to launch out of her chair to strike at the man who spread lies across the table like fertilizer.
Either Santos was a fool or he thought he could deal with his recalcitrant serpent-shifter daughter. He leaned forward and gathered Rosa’s hand in his own. “Why on earth would you think such a thing?” he asked softly.
Rosa snatched her hand away, and Robb forked another bite of dessert. It was her show now, so he just sat back to watch.
“I think Juan was your supplier,” Rosa said.
“My supplier?” One brow drew downward. “Supplier for what? Juan was not part of Santos Laboratories. In fact, we had very little dialogue in the last few years.”
“Please don’t take me for a fool, Father. Juan approached me years ago, trying to bring me back into the Serpent Society.”
“If he did, it was without my knowledge.”
Rosa shook her head. “I don’t believe that.”
“Es la verdad, querida.”
“The truth?” she said softly. “I think it’s far from the truth.”
She tilted her head, her dark hair sliding over her shoulder like a deadly caress, and continued to level the playing field. Robb couldn’t have been more proud.
“I’m aware of the unusual venom compounds that have caused havoc upon both humans and shifters alike. And now that Juan is dead, I think you need another source.” She paused for a moment, but her gaze continued to drill into the older man. “I think you need me.”
Still holding his forkful of dessert, Robb finally shoved the bite into his mouth and waited while the man let the accusations sink in.
Santos pushed his chair back, tossed the napkin on the table, and started to rise.
“Stay where you are, Father.”
Rosa’s voice was quiet, almost serene, but her eyes held a glimmer of something very dangerous, almost deadly. The black mamba slithered very close to the surface now, the dark part of her animal shimmering in the chaotic whirlpool of her eyes. She blinked slowly, as though hypnotizing prey, but Robb knew Santos could never be prey to her. They shared far too much to be predator and prey. Still, Santos slowly sank back to his chair and waited.
She leaned toward him, and the tip of her tongue peeked out as though scenting the air for any sign of danger. Finally she said, “I have another question.”
“Then ask it,” Santos said.
She clenched her teeth and took a deep breath. “Did you kill my mother?”
Santos’s eyes widened. “Did I what? Rosa, are you as crazy as this man?” He gestured toward Robb.
“Well, did you?” Robb said. “Why don’t you just answer the fucking question?”
He was aware his voice had risen, and several patrons turned to stare at their table, waiting for the fireworks. When talking shifter business out with the norms, it was never wise to draw attention to the conversation, so he lowered his voice when he continued.
“I think you’ve been using this poison—maybe several types—for years. I also think you used one of those types on Juan’s mother, and then after that successful test, you upped the ante and used it on a dozen or so members of Project Shimmer.” He paused for a moment and took Rosa’s hand. “And then, to cover your tracks with Wife Number One, you gave Rosa’s mother something that mimicked cancer. If we exhumed Adelina’s body, Santos, what would we find?”
His incredulous gaze darted between them. “Are you seriously accusing me of murder? Both of you?”
“I am,” Robb said simply.
“We are,” Rosa said.
“I will be leaving now.” Santos rose to his feet and held out his hand. “Come, querida. We can fix this. We need to get you away from this crazy man and his wild theories. He has made you think unspeakable things.”
Rosa glanced at her father’s hand then back to Robb. She started to rise, and Robb’s heart leapt into his throat. After listening to everything Lucia had said, after listening to everything he’d said the entire night, after everything she’d said herself, was she truly going to go with this man? Robb was ready to snatch her up and carry her away from this lunatic, kicking and screaming if that was what it came to. When Rosa stood, instead of letting go of his hand, she clutched it in a death grip and tugged Robb to his feet.
Santos stared at his daughter, a deep frown creating crevices on either side of his mouth and marring his forehead. “Mi hija, do you actually believe this insanity?”
“I do,” she said, picking up her purse.
“Are you sure?” He cast a murderous glance in Robb’s direction.
“Sí, I am very sure.” She squeezed Robb’s hand and leaned against him.
“I suppose then,” Santos said, “we will all have to live with the consequences.”
She led Robb through the restaurant and out the door.
Damn. He’d really wanted to finish that chocolate soufflé, but when Rosa stopped outside on the sidewalk and took his face in her hands, he realized he was about to get a far better dessert.
She pressed her lips against his, warm, wet, wonderful. It was a soft, gentle kiss that made promises and made him think of forever.
“That went well, don’t you think?” he asked with a smile.
Rosa glanced toward the restaurant. “Sí, if we were looking to acquire a deadly enemy.”
“You realize that was really all bullshit, right? We don’t have any evidence of anything.”
Rosa kissed him again. “Sí, I do realize that, but I have all the evidence I need.” She pressed her hand against her breast. “In here. I know in my heart Lucia would never lie to me. And I trust your instincts.”
“We’ll still need the real thing,” Robb said. “We’ve got to find evidence somewhere.”
Rosa nodded. “We will, but that can wait for another day.” She pulled away and gave him a sultry smile. “Can you call Marcus and Steve and have them meet us at Clandestine?”
“After a night like this, are you sure about that?” he asked, but before she had a chance to respond, he had his phone in his hand.
“I’m sure.” She put a hand on his chest. “But it’s just an experiment right now, Jackson. I need you to know that.”
“Got it. It’s why you need ‘toucan.’” He held up the phone. “Can I call now?”
When she laughed and nodded, he made the fastest calls he’d ever made and was very glad Clandestine was only three blocks away.
* * * *
When Santos stepped off the trolley, Talon signaled the driver to cut the air-conditioning. The ride back to San Antonio was going to be miserable with the heat cranked all the way up, but that was what he got for working with serpent-shifters.
He opened the limousine door and left the cool interior then waited as his current boss—man, he was getting sick of working for crazy people—strode across the parking lot toward him.
Alone.
Oh fuck. A hot limo is the least of my problems.
“I hate this fucking town,” Santos grumbled. “I am walking around like some sort of peasant.”
Keep your mouth shut.
Talon opened the door, and a wave of cool air rushed toward him. Gratefully, he reveled in it since it would be the last burst of cool air he felt for hours. Santos gave him a withering look then folded gracefully and entered the car. Talon followed, not nearly as gracefully
. He felt like a giant ox compared to Esteban Santos, but he thanked his lucky stars every day that he still had all his marbles.
He lifted the crystal decanter. “Drink, sir?”
“Sí, a fucking truckload of drinks.”
Talon poured a double while Santos began a rant that included everything from fucking cat-shifters to fucking Catamount to fucking French food to fucking Texas to fucking Diego Garcia. Talon’s ears perked up with that last topic, and he found himself wondering just how connected Santos and Garcia actually were. He knew the reputation of the drug lord, of course, and he knew Santos was less than legit in just about anything he did, but to think Santos actually had such common connections was a bit of a downer. His dead boss, Viper, might have been psychotic, but Garcia was another animal entirely, one with very far-reaching tentacles. Santos left the topic of Garcia after a couple minutes of bitching to move back to fucking cats, specifically panthers.
The one thing Santos never mentioned was his daughter.
Leave it alone.
And yet, somehow, as they rolled out of town through cascading hills and little copses of trees, Talon couldn’t seem to hold off his curiosity. He wondered sometimes if he had a death wish.
“And your daughter, sir?” Santos’s face swiveled toward him. “Did you see her?”
If he’d thought he’d seen murder in Santo’s eyes before, he’d been wrong. Every expression he’d seen up until this moment had been filled with puppies and kittens and rainbows. If death had a gaze, it would look exactly like this one.
“Sí, Talon. I saw her.” The words drifted through the limo slowly, much like poison would on a breath of desert air.
Talon actually reached for the door handle, thinking with a quick roll, a few scratches, and a possible concussion, he could be out of sight in no time.
Santos drained his tumbler and held the glass toward Talon. He gingerly plucked it from Santos’s hand and began to refill it. The crystal decanter shook a bit in his hand.
“You will need to contact your brother.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t even care what shape she’s in…as long as she’s alive and has most of her blood.”
“Yes, sir.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and punched in Raptor’s number. When his brother’s raspy voice came over the line, he said, “It’s a go. All bets are off.”
He heard his brother’s happy cackle before he disconnected the call. Talon shivered in the heat of the limo.
Chapter 9
Redwolf nodded a greeting, and holding hands, Rosa and Robb walked into the coolness of Clandestine. She shivered slightly. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the icy interior or nerves. Granted, she’d had sex with Robb and she’d toyed with both Marcus and Steve, but she had just agreed to take a giant leap forward, possibly into a real relationship. She heard Robb talking to Redwolf, but she barely heard any of it.
Toucan, toucan, toucan.
She said it to herself over and over, reminding herself that she still had an out. The problem was she wasn’t sure she wanted an out. Rosa Santos, the woman who toyed with men for sport, might actually be falling in love. With three men. It seemed utterly absurd. She suddenly had a real desire to talk to Carly. Carly would know what to do. Would Robb wait while she phoned her best friend?
“Your place or mine?”
She glanced up. Robb was watching her with a rakish smile. So much for the call to Carly. That smile made up her mind.
“Mine,” she said softly. “I keep my thermostat set to livable.”
Robb laughed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I guess it is a bit cool in here for you. Your place it is.”
He stopped by the bar and nodded to Jake Westin, the manager and chief bartender and one of the biggest, hunkiest wolf-shifters in town. “Got any champagne back there?”
“Always,” Jake said with a smile. “Evenin’, Rosa.”
“Jake.” She gave him a smile in return.
He and Robb talked for a few minutes, and Rosa waited while Jake set them up with champagne and four glasses, giving them a rather speculative glance. “If you don’t mind me asking…”
“Marcus Gallagher and Steve Harris,” she said.
He nodded. “Should have guessed that one. Those two have been following you around like puppies since you arrived back in town.”
“They have?”
Rosa thought back to the last couple years of her life. It had been a whirlwind of sadness, months of grief, and the monotony and agony of climbing back into life after Jillian Lucas’s death. If she hadn’t had the comfort and caring of the Lucas pride and her love for Suzie and Lucia, Rosa wondered how she would have ever pulled out of the spiral she’d gone into after losing her best friend. Then she’d found Clandestine, and she suddenly realized Marcus and Steve had always been there for her too, only in a completely different way.
“Sí,” she said, “I suppose they have.”
Jake shoved the champagne bucket across the bar, and Robb grabbed it while Rosa picked up the glasses.
“Enjoy yourselves, kids,” Jake said with a hearty laugh. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That opens up a world of possibilities.” Robb winked. “Maybe some we haven’t even thought of.”
“Between the two of you, I’m sure every possibility has been covered, probably more than once.”
As they reached the elevator, they heard footsteps pounding behind them.
“Hey, wait up!”
They turned to see Marcus and Steve. They came to a stop right in front of Rosa.
“Is this for real?” Marcus asked. When Rosa nodded, he rubbed his hands together. “I have died and gone to heaven. That’s for damn sure.”
Steve took the glasses from Rosa’s hands. “I only have one thing to say.”
“What’s that?” Robb asked.
“The first person who mentions an animal gets their ass kicked.”
All four laughed as they entered the elevator.
* * * *
Robb had never been in Rosa’s playroom. He’d caught glimpses of it from the hallway, but since he didn’t have a submissive bone in his body, he’d never had the pleasure of entering. Now, though, he wondered about his dominant tendencies and why he had them. He thought back to his ex and the miserable years he’d spent trying to make her happy. He suddenly wondered if he’d developed dominance as a way of keeping women at arm’s length to keep his heart from being broken and abused a second time.
Katharine had been beautiful, sexy, and alluring, but she had been less than loving and certainly less than trustworthy. Sure, he’d left her for years at a time, but everything he’d done in his time with the Rangers had ultimately been done for the good of the country, his colony, his family. Not that it had mattered to Katharine because she’d hooked up with more men during his time in service than he’d had in his command.
He’d held a grudge against serpent-shifters for years, thinking all of them were two-faced, conniving, and willing to snap your heart in two without a second’s thought.
Until he’d returned stateside and spent more time with his son.
Until he’d met Rosa.
What about Rosa had opened his heart enough to allow her in?
All he knew was he eagerly looked forward to a relationship with Rosa. He was willing to agree to any terms she wanted. He wanted this woman, and he was willing to share her. That was all there was to it. If he had to take a few whacks with a paddle, so be it.
The room was pretty, filled with antique furnishings and lots of white and cream, much like her living room. It was warm, almost too warm, but he was perfectly willing to work up a sweat. He wanted to strip, but this was her show.
She put her purse on a small chest of drawers. She pulled the elastic from her ponytail and let her hair sweep around her shoulders. The scent of her shampoo filled the room, along with another. Rosa was already in the first stages of arousal, and no o
ne had even touched her yet. She turned to them with a sultry smile, reached behind her, and began to tug down her zipper. The dress rippled downward like an undulating snake and fell to the floor in a cascade of black silk. Rosa stood before them in sexy high heels, a delicate black bra that barely covered her nipples, and a scrap of black lace just large enough to hide her bare pussy.
She stretched her arms high, her dancer’s body twisting in a sinewy display of grace. She arched her back, her breasts pressing toward them, and then she curved and thrust her hips forward. When she straightened, her hair fell over one eye, and she glanced at them between the strands, her eyes on fire. She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and gave them a smile.
Her voice was soft, sensual, barely a whisper, but it hit him like a cold bucket of water. “Are you waiting for an invitation?”
The other two men began to strip in a flurry of movement, but Robb couldn’t take his eyes off Rosa. She sauntered toward him, her hips swaying enticingly and her breasts bouncing a bit in the sheer, flimsy bra. When she reached him, she ran one red-tipped nail down his chest then pressed both hands under his jacket and ran them over his shoulders. His jacket fell to the floor. He waited with bated breath, thinking she’d simply rip his shirt open again. He envisioned buttons scattering on the floor. Instead, she very slowly undid each button until forced to tug it out of the waistband of his pants.
She leaned forward and pressed tiny kisses down his chest, moving down until she reached his waistband. Knees bent now, her mouth nearly level with his pulsing cock, she let her gaze drift toward him. The fire in her eyes had deepened, the dark depths nearly smoldering in heat.
“I’m going to suck your cock, Jackson.”
“Anything you want, Rosie.”
She undid his belt but left it hanging in the loops. She undid the button, and then slowly, so slowly he thought he’d die from the want, she lowered his zipper. His cock sprang free, jutting toward her lips, aching with longing. She ran her tongue up his length. He watched her red lips curve into a smile just before she covered his cock with her mouth. The pleasure that burst through his body blindsided him, and his knees buckled.