Shifter Wars (Mind Sweeper Series Book 3)

by AE Jones

  Shifter Wars

  Mind Sweeper Series Book 3

  AE Jones

  Shifter Wars

  Why did the demon cross the road? Apparently to escape from Kyle McKinley. Which is more than fine with her.

  The last thing she wants is to be dragged into another supernatural crisis, but the Fates have something more interesting in store for her. Since the tricky wenches love to mess with people, Kyle isn’t really surprised. And once she learns Trina, the young shifter girl whose memory she erased, is being stalked again, Kyle will do whatever it takes to protect her.

  Normally a secretive group, the shifters reluctantly agree to allow Kyle and her vampire and demon teammates to investigate. Are the poachers who kidnapped Trina back for revenge? But when other shifters are also targeted, Kyle becomes convinced there is more to the attacks than vengeance. And when the violence escalates and Griffin, the enigmatic leader of the shifters, ends up in the crosshairs, the team braces for a bloodbath.

  Scrambling to identify the mysterious group bent on destroying the shifters, and why, Kyle is also haunted by dreams and painful flashes from the prophesied Key of Knowledge which has taken up residence in her brain. In typical Kyle fashion, she decides to ignore it, but the more she ignores it, the more it digs its claws into her consciousness. If she can’t learn to embrace the Key and ask for help from those closest to her, she could lose her sanity before she’s able to prevent a shifter civil war.

  Gram –

  Growing up with you as a role model, it shouldn’t surprise me that my heroine, Kyle, possesses humor, spunkiness, and strength. Thank you for the love you showed me and all of your children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great grandchildren.

  We miss you, LaLa.

  Prologue

  So this was what a satisfied woman looked like.

  I smirked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror—mussed hair, kiss-bruised lips, and eyes that sparkled with naughty secrets.

  I’d spent the night with Dalton. The man who made me tingle in all the right girly places. The man I had lost and who’d found his way back to me, like the stubborn fool he was. The man I loved. Which was the scariest truth of all.

  He didn’t care that I was born a freak—a human able to manipulate memories. Hell, I had erased his memory, including all his memories of me, after he was tortured to the point of insanity. It had broken my heart, but I’d have done it again if it meant saving his life.

  Somehow, he had remembered me anyway and refused to let me go. I sure wasn’t going to fight him on it. I deserved a flippin’ break. We both did.

  The room chilled, and I tightened my fuzzy bathrobe belt. I watched in the mirror as Marie materialized behind me. “You have got to stop popping in whenever you feel like it, especially in the bathroom.”

  She shrugged. “Ghosts don’t get embarrassed.”

  “Well, humans do. Even I have limits.”

  “Honey, we need to talk.”

  I lowered my voice, hoping we wouldn’t disturb Dalton. “Now’s not a good time. Your grandson is sleeping in the next room. I know you two are close, but I don’t think you want to see him in the buff, do you?”

  Instead of smiling, Marie closed her eyes, her face tight. “He’s not here, Kyle.”

  “Of course he is.” I yanked open the door and stepped into the bedroom.

  The bed was empty. There were no clothes strewn around, no empty wine glasses on the dresser, no leftover tiramisu we had used very creatively during our lovemaking. How had he cleaned up everything so quickly? I jogged across the room and opened the door leading into the hall. My kitchen and living room were also empty.

  I spun to face Marie as she hovered a couple of inches above the floor. “Where is he?”

  “He was never here, honey.”

  I exhaled a jerky burst of air. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You erased his memory.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know. But he didn’t forget me. He came back to me.” I pointed a finger at her. “He told me you helped him remember!”

  “Sweetie, last night wasn’t real.”

  Her words pierced my body like shards of hot metal. “What?”

  Marie glided closer and tried to grasp my arm, but her hand passed through me, leaving icy tendrils along my skin. “I know how much you wanted to see him one more time. I asked the angels to give you a last memory with him. A gift.”

  A harsh laugh erupted from me, hurting my throat with its intensity. “A gift? How is this a gift?”

  “I’m so sorry, Kyle. I thought it would help you.”

  “He doesn’t remember me? He’s gone for good?” I asked even though I knew the answer.

  “Yes.”

  I couldn’t look at her any longer. I dropped my eyes to the hardwood floor. “Get out.”

  “Please…”

  “Get. Out.” After a few more seconds, the air crackled with electricity, and emptiness filled the apartment and my chest. I lifted my eyes and jerked when I saw myself in the hall mirror—hair hanging limp, lips drawn in a tight line, eyes haunted with new horrors.

  The irony was not lost on me. I had manipulated memories countless times for my job. How appropriate—the manipulator had become the manipulated.

  I sank to the floor, my knees slamming hard against the wood. Tears choked me. Not again. I couldn’t mourn him again.

  Chapter 1

  Six Months Later

  Why did the demon cross the road? Apparently to get the hell away from me.

  Glancing back to see if I was following him, he picked up his pace when we made eye contact. Demon or not, I’d have recognized his buggy eyes and ridiculous comb-over anywhere.

  I jogged across the street after him. “Hey, Doyle! Wait up!”

  At the sound of his name, he jerked and looked around wildly until he spotted the CasaBlanca Casino entrance and rushed inside. I sighed. I had just finished my dinner break and was on the way back to work in the very casino where he chose to take refuge. I definitely didn’t have time for this, but if Kevin Doyle was in town, something illegal was about to go down.

  Even though I had only been living in Mesquite, Nevada, for six months, I felt a certain responsibility to protect the residents from the likes of Doyle. Though not a killer, he was a con-demon and a thief, which meant he was here to score some quick cash.

  I entered the lobby and nodded to Manuel, the front door security guard. Once in the main casino, the clatter and ring of slot machines assaulted my ears while I did a quick sweep, but no Doyle. Circling the pit’s gaming tables, it took me a few seconds to adjust my eyes to the cigarette smoke well enough to see Doyle wasn’t there, either. Then I went to the bar and zeroed in on him sitting at a corner table. He was deep in conversation with the cocktail waitress, so he didn’t see me coming. When she left to get his drink, I plopped down next to him, blocking his escape route.

  “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, you had to slither into mine.”

  He scowled. “What the hell do you want, Kyle?”

  While I had taken certain liberties with the quote, I thought it appropriate for the venue. He had no appreciation for classics. Humphrey Bogart was wasted on him. “What scam are you running?”

  He had the nerve to look indignant. “I’m here on vacation. Why are you stalking me?”

  “Stalking you? I live here.”

  He chuckled. “So this is where you ran off to after Nicholas canned you from the supe squad.”

  “I wasn’t fired, I quit.” His expression told me he wasn’t buying it, but I didn’t really care. “Why are you here, Doyle?”

/>   “Do I need a reason other than I wanted to get out of Cleveland for a few weeks?”

  Winters in Ohio were a bitch, so I normally wouldn’t bat an eye, but I knew Doyle. Plus, his eye started to twitch. He had a ridiculous tell.

  “I hope you aren’t playing poker while you’re here.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  I held up my hands. “Just trying to save you some money.”

  “I don’t need your help. And since you don’t work for Nicholas anymore, you don’t have the right to intimidate me. I’m not doing anything to expose myself as a demon to the public, so get lost.”

  As the waitress hustled toward the table with a neon-green umbrella drink, I stood and leaned down to whisper my parting shots. “You give demons a bad rap, Doyle. I’m watching you. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  It was a waste of breath. He was going to do something stupid, and I was going to have to clean up the mess. In my old job, I had spent a lot of time covering for supernaturals who slipped up in front of humans. I was the equivalent of a supernatural public relations specialist. Putting a spin on the event to the best of my ability, so the fire and pitchforks didn’t make front page news. I’d thought I was finally out of the racket, but fate was sucking me in again.

  I walked toward the back of the casino and took out my access card, slid it through the badge reader, and entered the secure area of the casino. What I had neglected to mention to Doyle was my new job was as one of the security managers at the CasaBlanca, so I did have every right to watch and/or intimidate him if he planned to rip off the casino.

  Getting this job had been a stroke of luck. Once I had faced the fact that Dalton was not coming back to me, I packed a couple of duffle bags, threw them in my car, and took off. I needed some time to regroup, and Ohio felt too confining, so I drove southwest. I’m not sure what made me stop in Mesquite. Maybe it was too many long days of driving and eating mini-mart food until I thought I would explode.

  Sitting at the craps table the first night, I noticed a man trying to switch dice on a throw. He was quite the amateur, but no one seemed to notice except me. I walked over to one of the guards and asked to see someone in charge.

  Dwight Williams, the manager, was wiry, thin, and passed himself off as a good ol’ boy when he thought it would work to his advantage. But he was incredibly smart, and when I explained to him what was happening, he took me to his office, and we watched the video together. I pointed out the exchange, and he bobbed his head in approval.

  “You have a good eye, young lady. How did you spot him?”

  “He’s pretty sloppy with his handoff. He hasn’t been doing it long.”

  “And how do you know about this stuff?”

  “I used to do the same thing myself years ago.”

  His eyes sharpened on my face and ran over my purple, chin-length hair, black jeans, and tank top with a cartoon skull sporting an eye patch. I didn’t present a confidence-inspiring image. “You’re not playing some type of scam on me right now, are you?”

  “Nope. Just thought you’d want to know.” I walked toward the door leading out of his office, tossing one more tidbit of info over my shoulder. “You’re going to want to check out the dealer running the table as well. Any good stickman would have seen this guy’s moves. Either he doesn’t care, or he’s in on the scam.”

  I left his office, my good deed done for the day. Forty-five minutes later, while I was at the casino restaurant finishing my hamburger and steak fries, Dwight tracked me down and thanked me for my help. One of the dealers had been in on the scam. When he learned I was between jobs, he offered me a security position on a trial basis. Now I got to earn my keep sniffing out con men and cheats.

  Which brought me back to Doyle and the imminent incident I was sure to have to clean up. Doyle was a Dalmot, which on the scale of all things demon was not too big of a deal. His powers were low-level, which was probably why he felt the need to con people out of money. Demons weren’t that different from humans when it came to the philosophy “money is power”.

  I sat down next to Jimmy to watch the security monitors. He was one of the best spotters I had ever seen. Any weird thing that happened, however subtle, would not be missed by him. I so wished he wasn’t working today.

  He glanced at me, scarcely taking his eyes off the monitors. “Kyle.”

  “Jimmy, what’s shakin’ on the floor?”

  “Not too much. It’s been pretty calm today. Do I need to worry about the squirrely little guy you were talking to in the bar? He’s acting a little too nervous for my taste.”

  Shit. It took all of twelve seconds for Doyle to stand out like a sore thumb. “Nah, he’s a lightweight, not a serious threat. I’m here to relieve you for dinner.”

  Jimmy pushed back from the desk. “Thanks, I’ll be back in an hour.”

  I honed in on the monitors in the bar, watching Doyle attempt to drink his frou-frou cocktail without sticking the umbrella up his nose. I didn’t know how he functioned in day-to-day society. Coleen, his wife and much stronger demon counterpart, must have to dress him every morning.

  Fifteen minutes later, he walked toward the pit, trying to act nonchalant and failing miserably. He wandered over to one of our private rooms. What is he up to? He would have to pony-up five hundred dollars before he could walk through the door. Today’s game was Texas Hold ’Em. I flipped the monitor to the back room. Doyle sat down next to a hulk of a man bent over his cards. The man, or more than likely demon, nodded to Doyle in greeting.

  I checked out the rest of the players to see if anyone looked likely to be in on the scam. No one stood out. There were two college boys thinking they were tough shit, chests puffed out, sunglasses on. Really? They had been watching way too much poker on TV. At the opposite end of the table sat Bobby Joe Thomas, not a person I wanted mixed up in this. He was a fairly decent poker player who had learned quickly he was a very small fish in Vegas. So he traveled the ninety miles to play in Mesquite, where he was a big fish. In the end, turns out it is about size.

  I watched the game with interest. I wasn’t shocked to see Doyle was a horrible player. If anything was going to happen, it would have to be soon, since his chips were disappearing quickly. Interestingly, now that Doyle was sitting at the table, Mr. Hulk was winning, which flustered the crap out of Bobby Joe.

  And I knew then he was the mark. “Don’t fall for it, Bobby Joe,” I murmured to myself, but it was a lost cause when he hauled out his money clip.

  He placed his money on the table and bought a pile of chips. Then he made a bunch of stupid bets, losing to the hulk while the rest of the table watched quietly.

  “Let’s finish this,” Mr. Hulk announced.

  “Fine with me.” Bobby Joe pushed his entire pile of chips to the center. Up until then, I had only seen an all-in hand in the movies. The dealer flipped the last card over and somehow Bobby Joe won. Normally you might say the angels were smiling down on him, but I’ve dealt with angels before, and they aren’t much into rainbows and puppy dogs. Swords and apocalyptic prophesies are their M.O.

  Bobby Joe stood and cashed in his winnings, strutting around like a rooster. The hulk glared at his back.

  The con obviously had not gone as planned, so I continued to watch the monitors. Bobby Joe went out the back exit to his car. And—big shock—Mr. Hulk and Doyle were right on his heels. I clicked my earpiece on.

  “Shawn, Jimmy’s on break. I need you to monitor the floor for me, I have to step out.”

  “You got it, I’m on my way.”

  I opened the monitor room door, and Shawn was already hustling down the hall. I thanked him and went in the opposite direction, toward the exit. There were cameras all over the parking lot outside. If those two idiots tried anything, it would be filmed for sure. It was dusk, and the overhead lights were just coming to life. Better to see you with, my stupids.

  I jogged around the back way and skidded to a stop. Mr. Hulk had Bobby Joe backed against
the building with a choke-hold. Doyle stood to the side gaping. I looked up at the camera mounted on the building. It was dark. From what I could tell, all the cameras in the near vicinity were off.

  So Mr. Hulk could control electronics. A pretty nifty power, actually. I pulled Stanley, my .9 millimeter, from his harness under my coat and pointed the gun at him.

  “Drop him.”

  He turned and glowered at me, his eyes glowing a light shade of green. “You don’t know what you’re getting mixed up in, girl. Take off before I hurt you.”

  “Oh, but I do. From your eyes, I would say you’re a Haltrap demon…so no, I can’t let you hurt a human. Drop him or I’ll shoot you.”

  He growled and took a step toward me…so I shot him. Why don’t they ever listen?

  Doyle screamed. Bobby Joe slid down the wall and plopped on his butt, gulping air while he goggled at the pissed-off demon in front of him. A demon who held his bloody shoulder and scowled at me.

  “I told you to let him go. Now get out of here, and get the bullet taken out before your arm heals. Otherwise I’m calling the supe squad from Vegas to pick up your sorry ass.”

  He hesitated until he heard sirens in the distance. “This isn’t over, bitch.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

  He loped off, and I realized Doyle was still hollering. I pointed Stanley at him. He stopped.

  “Jesus, Doyle, keep it up, and you’re going to attract all the cats in the tri-county area with your screeching.”

  “I…I didn’t know he was going to hurt him. We were supposed to fleece him at the table.”

  “Get the hell out of here. I have to erase Bobby’s memory before the cops arrive.”

  Doyle scurried off into the shadows. I would deal with him later.