Special Ops Shifters: Dallas Force: The Complete Series Collection (Shifter Nation)

by Meg Ripley

  “Always,” Delilah confirmed. “At it early this morning?”

  “I have to be, with the Austin conclave up my ass every time I turn around. Sorry,” he muttered apologetically. “I just never imagined I’d have so much trouble with people who are supposed to be our equals. They’re adults. They’re elected officials just like we are, yet they act like children.”

  “Stop talking about me when you think I can’t hear,” cracked Rob Swanson as he swept into the room.

  “This is no time for jokes.” President Whiteside swept a hand through his thinning hair that was far too reminiscent of his last name. “We could be in dire trouble here, and all you want to do is crack jokes.”

  “I’m just trying to lighten the mood,” Rob replied.

  Whiteside worked away grumpily while he waited for the rest of the conclave to come in and get the meeting started. Delilah observed him, concerned. He was an older man, one who was never too quick to react, one who sat back and listened to all sides of a story before taking action. His calm demeanor was what had gotten him elected in the first place. So many shifters looked up to him.

  Several of the other members greeted each other and chatted as they refilled their coffee mugs from the side table and took their seats. A few acknowledged Delilah, but none of them were interested in talking to her. Even they knew she wasn’t like them. Fortunately, it was something she’d gotten used to a long time ago. Besides, she wasn’t there to make friends.

  When President Whiteside cleared his throat, the chatter died down instantly. The conclave members were friendly with each other for the most part, but they had complete respect for their leader. “I appreciate all of you coming in for this extra meeting. I know y’all have a lot to do, but there’s an issue at hand that we need to discuss.” He wove his fingers together and tapped them at the bottom of his chin, staring into the depths of the table’s wood grain as though it might tell him something. “You all know that we’ve been having some problems with the Austin conclave. It started off with only a few minor infractions here and there, with one of their members racking up traffic violations while visiting Dallas. Then there was the wolf that snuck up here to sell drugs. We’re lucky we got a hold of him before the human authorities did, because I have no doubt he would’ve told them anything and everything they wanted to know.”

  Somehow, the silence grew even deeper as they listened to the president. The threat of their secret getting out was one that constantly hung over their heads as shifters. Their world would change completely if the word were to get out. The humans didn’t even realize how much things would change for them, as well. The last people they should need to worry about letting the cat out of the bag were other shifters, but it’d been made clear that they couldn’t trust the Austin conclave. That made all of them uneasy, and Delilah could feel a ripple of anxiety thread its way through the room.

  “Now,” Whiteside continued, “we’ve got an even bigger problem.” He turned his laptop to show a photo of an angry-looking man. His long hair and beard were scruffy, and the long scar along his jawline was unmistakably a claw mark. “This is Paul Grimes. He’s the main suspect in a series of convenience store robberies, with charges of assault sprinkled in for good measure. His crimes are severe enough that the local police are looking for him, too. They don’t have all the same advantages that we do, and I can say with confidence that I know where this man is right now. The problem is that the Austin conclave is refusing to allow us to extradite him.”

  Delilah sat up a little straighter at this news. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Let me make a few calls and see what we can do. That’s not how we handle business and they know that.”

  Whiteside gestured softly with his hand to stay her. “I’ve already made a hell of a lot of phone calls, Ms. Henderson, and they don’t want to talk. I agree that this isn’t the normal way of doing things, but that’s exactly the problem. I’m starting to see a pattern here, and I don’t like it. It’s one thing if they think a few small infractions aren’t worth pursuing, but I only see it getting worse. It makes me wonder what their plans are and why they’re targeting us.”

  “They may not be targeting just us,” Rob replied. “This morning, I heard about some similar problems that San Antonio is having with Austin as well. I don’t think it’s anything particularly severe yet, but one of Austin’s conclave members called me today and asked if we were still on good terms with them.”

  Whiteside pointed at him. “Call him back, and get me all the details you can. Gather up any available proof, too. I don’t want this all to be based on rumor, especially if it ends up going to trial.” He shook his head and sighed, suddenly looking even older.

  “Sir,” Delilah asked. “I know this is something we’ve discussed before, but perhaps it’s time for us to build up some sort of armed force. It’s clear that Austin is going to cause trouble in one way or another, and we need to be able to protect our territory.”

  But the president shook his head. “As we discussed before, that could be taken the wrong way. One conclave suddenly arming themselves is going to make it look like we’re trying to attack. We have to be incredibly PC these days.”

  “Politically correct or not, isn’t there at least something we can do?” Virginia Cowan asked. “It doesn’t seem right that we should have to cow down just because we don’t want to offend someone.” The wolf inside her was obvious in the gleam of her eyes, and backing down wasn’t something that sat well with her true nature. Several others nodded their heads and murmured their agreement.

  “No,” Whiteside said firmly. “It’s not only risky in a political sense, but a logistical one. Where, exactly, do you plan on drawing these recruits from? Most of the shifters in our area are professionals; they’re not soldiers. Even the guards that serve within the packs are already serving important roles for their Alphas. We have to put a lot in place to get something like that going. It wouldn’t be quick or easy. We need to figure something out that’s going to help us in the near future.”

  Ideas were beginning to brew in Delilah’s head. She twisted her mouth as she mulled them over, but they weren’t ready to be brought out into the daylight yet.

  When no one volunteered any more information, Whiteside tapped his pen on the table. “All right, fine. I know the best ideas can come when you’re not looking for them, so I’ll give y’all some time. But tomorrow, I want to hear some answers. In the meantime, I want you to also be thinking about ways we can connect with our shifters. We need to make sure they’re aware of the fact that we’re here to protect them and take care of them. I don’t want them to think we’re some distant, disconnected committee that doesn’t matter. Get out there and talk to people, make sure they remember that we exist.” He held up a warning finger. “Don’t treat this as an opportunity to get votes during the next election, either. That’s not what this is about. Since we’re all here, is there anything else we need updates on?”

  William Pitts cleared his throat. “Dr. Barnett tells me the hospital is almost complete. They’ve already got most of the departments operating, at least on a basic level. They still have a bit of construction and finish work, but they should be able to handle almost all medical issues.”

  “Good. That’s at least something y’all can spread throughout your communities, and it’s better than making everyone worry.” Whiteside looked somewhat relieved, but Delilah could still see the tension in small lines around his eyes. “Anything else?”

  “Yes,” Virginia said. “Taylor Communications has been keeping me updated on the database they started up a few months ago. It’s greatly improved, and if you get a chance, I suggest you take a look at it since some of the interface has changed. I think it’s safe to say that almost every shifter in our area is on there, though. The network that carries it is, of course, incredibly secure.”

  “I’ll do that immediately,” Whiteside promised. “Have they made any progress when it comes to adding criminal records?” />
  “Some,” she confirmed. “It’s going to be a long process. I spoke with Mr. Taylor himself, and he says he has plenty of workforce on the task, so we don’t need any volunteers for data entry. I hope he’s right since we can’t exactly afford to pay anyone.”

  Delilah let out a small breath of relief at hearing this news. Hudson Taylor owned Taylor Communications, one of the biggest telecommunication companies in the U.S. He also happened to be a shifter, and he was committed to helping out his brothers and sisters of all species as much as possible. “If he needs anything from us, please let us know. We’d like to cooperate as much as possible.”

  “I think that about does it. Don’t forget what I said, though. We need ideas. We need solutions, and y’all know how to get a hold of me.” Whiteside remained seated as the rest of the conclave gathered their stuff and left.

  Delilah remained seated to his right, not liking the waves of uncertainty that rolled off of him. She waited until the door closed and the two of them were left alone. “What is it?”

  The older man smiled. “You know, I didn’t know you at all when you were elected into this position, yet you can always tell what I’m thinking, can’t you?”

  The two of them were completely different people—and even different animals. Harris Whiteside had a bear inside him, a creature that didn’t automatically get along with Delilah’s cougar. But they’d been working side by side for the last couple of years, and she’d come to know his little quirks and tells. Delilah thought of him as an uncle, someone to be revered and admired, but whom she could still kid around with when the time was right. “I try, but I don’t think it’s all that hard to figure out this time. Everyone here knows you’re upset.”

  “And I have every right to be.” The president stood up and strode to the long bank of windows along one end of the conference room. He scratched his chin as he stared out over the city. “I can’t help but think this is a bad situation. I don’t have anything beyond small offenses and a general pattern. It’s not as though President Kelso has come right out and declared war on us. In a way, I’d prefer it if he did.”

  “It would stop this guessing game,” Delilah agreed. “I do have a thought, but it’s not one I was quite comfortable sharing in front of everyone.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, one thick white eyebrow raised. “I’m listening.”

  “We’ve brought in the Special Ops Shifter Force before when we had security problems we couldn’t quite solve on our own.” Delilah knew it was a risk. The Force was as close to an army as they could get, even though only a handful of men were members. She’d never actually dealt with them herself, but she knew they had some exceptional talents that could come in handy.

  Now President Whiteside turned to her fully. “We have, but what exactly are you suggesting?”

  “To arrange a meeting with them, maybe see what they could do for us. There’s no telling what kind of connections they might have when it comes to intelligence, surveillance, and even just sheer firepower. We’re talking about Special Forces vets who don’t exactly operate under the limits of the law.” While Delilah had always been more of a rule-follower than a rule-breaker, she had to admit the idea sounded exciting. Her life had been one of education and civil service, one in which she’d had to work very hard for very little return. A bit of adventure peppered in wouldn’t be a bad thing.

  “Oh, I know just what kind of connections they have: plenty. They’re the most talented and skilled group of soldiers you’re going to find. It’s too bad we don’t have the time and the resources to make a security team of our own, because those would be the kind of men we’d want to run it.”

  This was a solution to one of their problems that Delilah hadn’t quite seen yet, but now that she did, it made perfect sense. “That’s even better, then. We ask them to do a little work for us and talk to them about recruiting and training some sort of regiment. That would take care of everything at once.”

  But Whiteside was shaking his head. “No, Delilah. I’m sticking with what I said about a military. We can’t do it. It’s practically an invitation for another conclave to attack us. That’s not the sort of thing that’s happened in probably a century, but I’m not willing to be the one to deal with it in the modern era.”

  “Can’t we at least talk to the Force? We don’t have to hire them in any official capacity in order to, say, retrieve Paul Grimes from Austin.” That would be a nice stab in the eye to the other conclave. She shouldn’t be thinking that way, she knew. Everything a conclave member did was supposed to be official and polite and carried out with dignity. But seeing such distress in the president’s face made most of that easy to cast aside.

  Harris returned to his seat. He leaned back in his chair, folded his hands in his lap, and took a deep breath. “Talk to them,” he finally said, so quietly, she could hardly even hear him. “Talk to them and just make sure they’re on our side. Ask them if they’ll be ready to stand with us should the need arise. Yes, we’ve asked them for help before, but never with an inter-conclave issue. It’s different, and I don’t want anyone thinking we’ve got them in our pocket for the wrong reasons.”

  “Right.” A thrill of excitement zipped through her ribcage at the thought. The issues with the Austin conclave might not amount to anything, but this task she had before her was a bit different than anything else she’d had to do in her time as VP. Most of the people she dealt with were bureaucrats just like she was, people who rarely even let their inner animals show if they could help it.

  “I’m also very serious about getting in touch with the community,” the president continued. “I know you’re not part of a clan. I get that, and I know that means there’s a bit less you can do about it than the others can. I still have every bit of confidence in you, though. You’re here because people believe you can get the job done, and I want you to remind them of that. Find our shifters. Talk to them. Until the database turns into some sort of mass communication system—something I’m hopeful for in the future—we have to keep this as a grassroots effort.”

  “I can do that, sir. I’ll get on it right away.” Delilah headed back to her office and sat behind her desk. She twisted her honey-blonde hair into a chignon and secured it with a pencil before diving into her work.

  By the time Delilah made it back to her apartment that evening, she was exhausted. It wasn’t really that the work was all that hard; it was the emotional stress that came along with it. No matter what was happening within the conclave, Delilah always felt the pressure to perform. She wanted to do everything she could for her constituents, even if she was solving problems they hadn’t realized they had. This issue with Austin only made things more complicated.

  Flicking on the lights, she frowned at the cardboard boxes still stacked in the corner of the living room. Delilah had told herself time and time again that she’d get to them when she had a free evening or weekend, and that hadn’t happened yet in the six months she’d been living there. Oh, well. It could wait a little longer.

  Her phone rang from her blazer pocket just as she was setting her keys down. “Hey, Anita.”

  Loud music thudded in the background, and Anita had to shout to make sure she could be heard over it. “Where are you?”

  “I just got home from work. Where are you?” It was hard not to shout back, even though the noise wasn’t coming from her end. Delilah pulled the phone away from her ear and wondered how anyone could stand to hear it in person.

  “At the Club Royale, remember? You were supposed to be here an hour ago! I’ve already had two drinks for you.”

  “Shit.” Delilah pressed her fingers to her forehead and closed her eyes. She’d completely forgotten, although that was rather convenient on her part. She hadn’t wanted to accept Anita’s invitation in the first place, but she’d already turned her down so many times. Eventually, she’d stop asking. “I’m sorry. I had to work late and completely spaced.”

  “Come on,” Anita urged. “Ju
st turn your ass around and go right back out the door. I plan to be here all night!” Someone screamed their agreement in the background.

  Delilah felt her shoulders slump. She liked Anita; she really did. But Anita just couldn’t understand how much Delilah hated crowds. Her idea of an evening out was more along the lines of dinner and movie before hitting the bookstore to check the clearance rack. Being packed into a club full of sweaty strangers who had no respect for personal space simply didn’t do it for her. “I’m sorry. I’ll have to catch you another time. Have another drink for me, okay?”

  “Okaaaay,” Anita called back in a singsong voice, “but you don’t know what you’re missing!”

  “Yeah,” Delilah said when she hung up, “I most definitely do.”

  She put her phone away and changed out of her work clothes. It wasn’t easy being a cougar. She liked her solitude. The human side of her still secretly craved being around other people, but the beast was stronger and usually won the contest. That night, she’d be perfectly happy to kick back with a glass of pinot noir and a good novel.

  3

  Vance leaned on the fence, watching the last of the rodeo wind down. A dusty wind kicked up, carrying with it the scents of horses, cattle, and corndogs. Brilliant lights shone down on the arena to showcase the barrel racers as they urged their horses in tight circles and then rode hell-bent for leather back to the gate. The air was just starting to stay warm at night, bringing the excitement and activity of summer along with it. This was one of the first shows of the season, and he was looking forward to more.

  “Hey, good lookin’.”

  He turned to see a girl standing next to him. Vance was pretty sure he’d seen her before, hanging around the bull riders. Her tight black tank top sported the Cruel Girl logo above a shiny belt buckle that she definitely hadn’t earned. Considering how clean and stiff her boots were, Vance doubted she was the type of woman who knew her way around the ranch.