by Julie Kenner
“Damn.”
She shrugged. “Templeton, I’ve worked a bunch of cases since the calls started coming in. They could be related to half a dozen different people. All cops get calls like this. Seriously.”
“There’s no way to know if the caller is human or shifter.” He caught himself again wanting to kiss her, hold her close, keep her safe. He had a feeling she’d hate that if she knew, so he kept his hands to himself.
“Right. And I can’t do anything about the calls, so what’s the point in worrying?”
Typical cop attitude. While he could identify, that didn’t mean he approved. “Did you try running a trace?”
“No. The caller won’t stay on the line long enough.”
“Don’t you think you should let Gordy know?”
“Hell, no.” Expression horrified, she shook her head. “Ever since Jason died, Gordy has been looking for an excuse to take me off the team. No way am I going to give him one.”
“I didn’t think of that. I had to fight the Bureau to be assigned to this case.”
She lifted a brow. “How’d you manage that anyway? A cousin is a much closer relation than a former girlfriend.”
“I called in some favors.”
She smiled. He found himself smiling back, then remembered the topic at hand. “Amanda, you could be in real danger.”
“I know.” Her smile faded. He hated to see it go. “And there’s more. A couple of times, I think I’ve been followed.”
“More reason to mention this to Gordy. The team needs to know. This could be the killer.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But whoever was behind me was quick. I never caught even a glimpse of him.”
A horrible thought occurred to him. “You’re not letting yourself be a target or something foolish like that, are you?”
“Of course not.”
Though her denial came quickly, Nick wasn’t fooled. He’d seen the truth in the expression that flashed across her face. “Stay armed at all times, you hear me?”
“I always am.” The grim set of her mouth had him again inexplicably wanting to kiss her.
He cursed instead. “I just wish we knew if the threat is from a human or a shifter.”
“Me, too. But if he’s not human, my gun is worthless. I don’t have any silver bullets.”
Without silver bullets, they might as well be unarmed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHE HAD A POINT. Silver bullets were one of only two ways to kill a shifter. Only that or fire could do the job.
If some rogue shifter was hunting Amanda, what would Nick do? Eliminate his own kind to save a human? Hell yes, if she were innocent of Jason’s murder. He felt pretty confident she had not killed his cousin.
If she had…that would be a different story.
“Don’t we have a lead to follow?” Looking away from him, she glanced out the window toward the station house. “As a matter of fact, we should move. If anyone sees me sitting in a parked car with you, I’ll get a ration of crap.”
He started the engine. “Where to?”
“Somewhere with food. I need breakfast. Have you eaten?”
“No.” He hadn’t had time. “Now that you mention it, I could use something.”
They ended up at a pancake house. While he ate, he watched Amanda make quick work of her cheese blintzes, scooping up the last of her strawberry topping with obvious relish.
“I think I need to stay with you.” He hadn’t meant to blurt out the words like that, but once said, there they were. He braced himself for her argument.
Blotting the corners of her mouth with her napkin, she stared at him as if she hadn’t heard correctly. “Stay with me? Why? Is your hotel kicking you out?”
Nick grinned. “Right. Soon as they learned I was a federal agent, they booted me. Come on, I’m serious. If a shifter is actively stalking you, I need to stick to you like glue.”
“Why?” The cop expression was back. Her eyes had gone hard and cold. She didn’t return his smile.
“Protection.”
“I can protect myself.”
“I knew you’d say that. Of course you can protect yourself, Detective. Against a human enemy. Not against a shifter.”
She had no ready reply for that. How could she? She didn’t have the slightest idea what she was up against.
“Also, if I’m around we might stand a better chance of catching the guy and finding out what he knows.” That would appeal to Amanda, he knew.
A second later, he saw he was right.
“Okay.” She nodded. “You want to stay in my apartment? With me, correct?”
“Exactly.”
He expected an explosion. Instead, she reached for the coffee carafe and poured herself another cup. When she’d finished doctoring it up with creamer and sweetener, she raised her gaze. “Do you know what kind of crap they’d shovel on me at work if I let you stay with me?”
“Don’t tell them.”
“You’re serious about this.”
“I am.”
“Nick, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t know you that well. You’re a great guy, for a fed that is, but…”
“I’m not suggesting we sleep together,” he said, and watched the color rise in her face.
Elbows on the table, she leaned forward. “You kissed me.”
“It was only a kiss.”
She swore. “There was no ‘only’ about that. You haven’t lied to me so far. Don’t start now.”
Nick tugged at his collar, forcing his hand back to the table when he caught himself. Damn it, she was right. Still…“We’re both adults. Nothing has to happen if we don’t want it to.”
“Yeah, I know.” She gave him a rueful smile. “The problem is, deep down inside I think we both want it.”
At her words his body stirred, the wolf part of him restless, the human part aroused. If just hearing her admit she wanted him could do this to him, how could he resist her if they were together night and day?
She frowned. “Look Nick, I appreciate your wanting to protect me and all, but I can take care of myself.”
He sighed. “Somehow I knew you would say that.”
His cell phone chirped. He answered it, unsurprised to hear Mike’s hesitant voice.
“Kenyon’s agreed to a meeting.”
“When?”
“How quickly can you be at the Broken Shackle?”
“The Broken Shackle?” He repeated the name for Amanda’s benefit. She nodded, letting him know she was familiar with the place. “Hold on.” He covered the phone with his finger. “How far is it?”
“Twenty minutes. Downtown Fort Worth.”
He gave her the okay sign and then made arrangements to meet Kenyon. Luckily, the waitress had already brought their check so he tossed a couple of ones on the table. “Let’s go.”
With Amanda providing directions, they made it to the Broken Shackle with a few minutes to spare.
The place lived up to its name. Tucked between a Vietnamese market and a bail bondsman, the Broken Shackle bar looked exactly that—broken. A cracked cement exterior that had once been painted red matched the dirty glass window and flickering neon beer sign. Burglar bars covered the window and the door.
Nick looked at Amanda. She shrugged. “Bad part of town.”
Pushing on the front door, Nick found it was unlocked. It swung open with a loud creak and jangle of dirty metal blinds. The only light came from a small, dingy lamp on the bar.
A man stepped from the back room. He pointed a gun at them. Beside Nick, Amanda stiffened. He knew without looking that she was about to draw her own weapon.
He touched her arm. “Don’t.”
With a curt nod, she gave him her agreement. The set of her jaw told him how little she liked it.
The other man watched silently. Finally, he gestured with his free hand. “Follow me.”
In the back room the light was even dimmer. Nick’s shifter eyes adjusted automatically, though he could tell by Amanda’s
squint she wasn’t so lucky.
In the corner, another man sat in a large chair on a raised platform. Three more bodyguards flanked him. Kenyon. The setup looked so much like a throne Nick was startled, but years of training kept his face expressionless. No point in antagonizing the man before Nick even questioned him.
Kenyon spoke first. “You’re here about my people?”
“About their deaths, yes.”
“If killing them was your retaliation or a warning of some kind, you are a dead man.” Kenyon took in Amanda, standing silently at Nick’s side. “As is your human mate.”
Nick’s every sense tingled a warning. “Retaliation?”
“Which Pack council sent you?”
Ah, now Nick understood. Kenyon was under the impression that Nick had been sent as an enforcer, someone who hunted down lawless renegades and exterminated them. This had been the practice for centuries, though of late the United States Pack Council had practiced more human methods, much like the current human court system. The New York State Pack had sent Nick as investigator, rather than enforcer.
“I work for the FBI. I’m here in conjunction with the Fort Worth Police Department. We’re investigating the killings.”
Kenyon’s broad face creased into a frown. “You haven’t answered my question.”
Nick kept his eyes locked on the other man. “The New York State Pack asked me to investigate my cousin Jason’s death. The FBI was sending someone, so I volunteered.”
“Just one person?”
“Every resource in the Bureau is dedicated to terrorism, these days.”
At that, Kenyon growled. The menacing sound raised the hackles on Nick’s neck. He stifled his own growl, fighting the urge to change, forcing himself to appear unmoved. Human.
The goon who’d led them in the room continued to keep his gun pointed at them. The three who flanked Kenyon were also armed, though they kept their weapons holstered. For now.
Despite the implicit threat the armed guard offered, Nick didn’t think Kenyon would be so stupid. Killing a federal agent—and a cop—would bring down wrath from every law enforcement agency in the state, not to mention the U.S. Pack Council’s wrath.
“What do you want, Investigator?” A wealth of sarcasm resonated in Kenyon’s baritone voice.
“Answers. I need to know if your…” he hesitated. “If your Pack has any enemies.”
“You. Your kind. The council.”
Nick took a deep breath. Every nerve tingled a warning.
Kenyon leaned forward. “Let me ask you a question. Did you kill my people?”
“No. Did you?”
The other man reared back, revealing shock for the first time. “You dare…” he roared.
Nick stood his ground. “Did you have them killed because they wanted out of your Pack?”
Kenyon snarled. Nick snarled back, unable to help himself. The three men surrounding the throne drew their weapons, their lips pulled back in identical, animalistic grimaces.
“Enough.” Amanda stepped forward, her own gun drawn and pointed at Kenyon.
“Amanda.” Nick kept his own hands in plain sight. “What are you doing?”
“Someone has to put a stop to this.” She didn’t even glance at him, keeping her gaze—and aim—on Kenyon. “Put your weapons down or I’ll shoot him.”
“You’re outnumbered.” The man who’d led them in spoke from near the doorway, off to their right. “You’ll die.”
“Yeah, but I’ll take him down with me. Then the rest of you can try explaining why you killed a federal agent and a Fort Worth detective.”
Kenyon snarled. Then he signaled his bodyguards with a wave of his hand. “Lower your guns.”
Instantly, they all complied. All except the one by the doorway.
“Antoine.” Kenyon’s low-pitched voice contained a warning. Reluctantly, Antoine holstered his pistol.
“Good. Thank you.” Keeping her own weapon still trained on Kenyon, Amanda stepped forward. “Are your guns loaded with silver bullets?”
“Silver bullets?” Kenyon recoiled. “Why would we do such a thing?” Then, as the implications of her words dawned on him, he grimaced. “We do not kill other shifters. Only those humans who foolishly threaten us.”
“So you couldn’t have killed Nick then.”
“No, but we could make him hurt. Badly. And,” he leered at her, “we could have killed you.”
Amanda stared back. Slowly, she lowered her gun.
“We’ve heard a rumor that the victims were all members of your club.”
“Pack. Yes, this was no rumor. These were all my people.”
“Did they want out?”
Kenyon cocked his head, appearing to take her seriously. Still, Nick kept ready for attack from any direction.
“Not all of them.” Leaning forward again, Kenyon rested his elbows on his knees. “What about you, pretty cop? I’ve heard you killed Jason when he changed in front of you.”
“Not true.”
“That would be a good thing for you if it’s true.” Kenyon’s smile looked pleasant, though his eyes remained cold. “But there are some who don’t believe you. You are being hunted, even now.”
Hunted. That explained the tingling at the back of her neck, the shadowy shapes she’d imagined she’d seen from the corner of her eye.
“Hunted I can deal with,” she said, trying for nonchalance, and very nearly making it.
“Can you?” His smile told her he wasn’t buying it. “Just don’t let yourself be caught.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
HUNTED BY a werewolf. In her years on the force, Amanda thought she’d dealt with every kind of threat. But if she remembered how Jason had shimmered, how his image wavered in front of her shocked eyes, how when she’d blinked he’d become a huge, predatory, animal—the idea of something like that stalking her made even her toughened heart quail.
Still, she managed to meet Kenyon’s unwavering gaze with a smile. “Since I didn’t kill Jason, I have nothing to worry about.”
He studied her for a moment, the color of his eyes an odd, yellowish-brown. His bodyguards stared straight ahead, as still as muscular statues.
“Kenyon.” Nick’s voice drew the big man’s attention. “We have a few questions we’d like to ask you.”
Kenyon frowned. “No. If the council wants to bring me up on charges, let them try. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Amanda took a step closer and lifted her chin. “May I ask one question?”
Kenyon narrowed his eyes. His full lips curved in a sneering smile. “Even if you don’t like the answer?”
“You don’t know the question yet.”
He laughed, a short bark of sound. “Go ahead. Ask.”
She took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders for courage. “Did you kill your own people because they wanted out of your club?”
Kenyon growled. The bodyguards reacted. Even without them taking a step toward her, Amanda knew they’d gone on full alert.
“You’ve already asked that.”
She hadn’t; Nick had. She saw no reason to point that out.
“Not an answer. Did you kill those five victims?”
“I did not,” Kenyon snarled. Though in human form, his teeth looked sharper than normal. Amanda watched while he visibly calmed himself. “Interesting that you suspect me while I,” he looked from Amanda to Nick and back again, “suspect you.”
“But—”
“Enough.” His roar seemed to echo in the unkempt room. He made a hand gesture, dismissing them. “Donte will show you to the door.”
The look Nick gave her told Amanda he thought they should count themselves lucky.
As they were escorted out, Kenyon called out after them. “I will learn the truth.” Neither responded out loud. When Nick looked over at Amanda, frowning, she grinned.
Once inside the car, he let go. “What the hell were you thinking, asking him that? Did you really think he was going to look you i
n the eye, admit to the murders, and then let you walk out of there alive?”
Amanda shook her head. “I wanted to see his reaction.”
“He’s a shifter. He’s had years to practice hiding things.”
“Besides,” Amanda continued, as though Nick hadn’t spoken, “if Kenyon is behind the killings, he didn’t do them with his own hands. More likely one of those goons he had with him performed the deed. I watched them, too.”
“So did I.” Nick’s admission sounded grudging. “But they’re shifters as well. Not one of them so much as blinked.”
“I noticed.” She glanced at him sideways. “But they reacted. Very subtle, but they were ready for action.”
He shook his head. “We were outnumbered. I can’t protect you against so many.”
“This is getting old, Nick.” She swallowed back her anger. “I didn’t ask you to protect me.”
He sighed. “I know you didn’t. Let’s go back to the station. I need my computer to see what I can dig up on this Kenyon.”
They turned right. So did the Mustang behind them.
“Someone’s following us.”
“I noticed.” Nick grimaced. “Either he’s an amateur or he wants us to see him.”
“This makes no sense. Kenyon already gave us a clear warning.”
As Nick opened his mouth to speak, she heard the sharp pop of gunfire. The back window shattered in a spray of glass.
Nick swerved. “Get down.” He floored the accelerator. The Taurus shot forward. “There’s another car.”
“What?” She popped her head up. “Where?”
“Get down.” He cursed again. “There’s no way we can outrun them in this rental.”
Using the seat as a shield, Amanda hunched over. “Two of them? This doesn’t make sense.”
“I agree.” He jerked the steering wheel to the right, sending them careening into an alley. “It’s too damn obvious. Maybe it’s not Kenyon.”
“Someone else. Great.”
The rental car creaked and rattled as they tore over potholes.
“If not Kenyon, then who?”
Nick flashed her a grim smile. “That’s what we’re about to find out.”
Amanda inched herself up far enough to look over the back of the seat. “They’re gaining on us.”