Passion's Prey tss-3

by A. C. Arthur

  “The joys of technology,” X replied grimly. Bas wasn’t looking like his normally suave self; in fact, X noted the guy’s brow was just a bit furrowed, his eyes a little shielded.

  “Well, that technology has confirmed one of our greatest fears. I’m telling you this before I tell the other FLs because I know you’ll report directly to Rome the minute you return to DC.”

  X sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. “Give it to me,” he told Bas.

  “Somebody’s asking questions about another species. There was talk of some photos and containment. They don’t sound like they have specifics, just a hunch. But it’s the government, you know where they can go with a hunch.”

  X let out the breath he’d unwittingly been holding. “I know what the government doesn’t do with important hunches and tips. But this, they’ll run with this until the end of time.”

  “You’re right,” Bas said. “Just like they’re still secretly looking for UFOs.”

  “Great, now we’re in the category with UFOs. Fucking perfect. Rome’s not going to like this. Do we know who received the emails, who the sender was, all that?”

  “I’ve got a written report in my office.”

  “On a secure USB, I hope,” X said.

  Bas nodded. “All our computers are secure. You should know—you installed most of them.”

  “Right. But we’ve got to start being real careful about what we say and to whom. Last month at the raid on Rome’s place there was a Rogue found on the property. Baxter thinks he came in with the landscape group earlier that week. And then there was the Rogue that was working at the firm with Rome and Nick. They’re everywhere now.”

  “Yeah, I know. But they’re masking their scent. We’ve got to figure out how they’re doing it.”

  X agreed. “As for the chick at the firm, we think she may have been sleeping with a human. If that’s the case he would have carried her scent and she would have been virtually scent-free.”

  “Damn genetics,” Bas swore. “There’s still a lot we don’t know about our kind. Like I was thinking the other day, what if one of us was to get a human pregnant. What would that be like?”

  For a moment X was quiet. Actually, he was stunned because pregnant and human were not generally words that went together in Bas’s vocabulary. For all that he was a womanizer he usually stuck to shifters because he figured they were safer for whatever reasons he may have had. This was different, and the look he was giving X was even stranger.

  “You got somebody knocked up?” X asked, trying to keep this conversation as light as possible.

  Bas shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I was just thinking. You know with thousands of us here in the United States and spreading out across the country, it’s entirely possible that one of us would hook up with a human and a pregnancy could occur.”

  X shrugged. “I don’t know. Nick’s mate is pregnant now and that’s strange enough. We’re all kind of just waiting to see what’s going to happen. I mean, shifter births are fairly common now or else we wouldn’t be here. But none of us has ever witnessed any.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on in my head,” Bas said rubbing a hand over his face. “So anyway, you and Caprise—where’s that going?”

  “Nowhere” was X’s instant reply. “What I mean is there’s no mating or joining on the horizon.”

  “You sure about that?” Bas asked skeptically.

  “Come on, man, you know me.”

  Bas nodded. “I do.”

  “You and I are kind of alike. Commitment’s not on our agenda,” he replied, watching Bas carefully.

  “Right. It’s not on my agenda. But you’re pretty damn protective of her.”

  “She’s a female, Bas. And she’s Nick’s sister.”

  “And she’s what to you?”

  X stood. “She’s Nick’s sister and she’s a shifter. Damn right I’m going to protect her. As a matter of fact I’m going to go see what she’s doing and let her know we’ll be flying out in the morning.”

  But as X opened the door Jewel was on the other side. The smile she gave X wavered as he figured he was probably scowling at her instead.

  “Sorry, I was just leaving,” he told her.

  “What is it, Jewel?” Bas asked.

  When she spoke her voice was decidedly feminine and very serious. “There’s an urgent call for you from a Roman Reynolds.”

  Chapter 17

  Washington, DC

  Kalina Reynolds was no longer a detective for the Metropolitan Police Department. She was no longer a candidate for employment with the Drug Enforcement Agency. What she was—and most would be absolutely amazed at her transformation—was the First Female of the Stateside Shifter Assembly. She was part woman and part jaguar, and she was absolutely gorgeous in her four-and-a-half-inch-heeled cobalt-blue Jimmy Choo pumps and white sleeveless V-neck Victoria Beckham mini dress.

  Never in her life had Kalina imagined she’d be wearing such clothes, walking in these shoes and heading into the DEA satellite office in DC. It almost felt like déjà vu, since about three months ago she’d done this very thing—different clothes, of course. Still, she looked damn good, felt spectacular, and let her cat purr just slightly as she knocked on the door of Agent Dorian Wilson’s office.

  It took only seconds for him to beckon her in, and she moved with the slow, sleekness of a cat. Her lips spread into a friendly smile, while her hazel eyes found his glare and locked into place. Gentleman that he was, Dorian stood, extending a hand across the desk toward her immediately. Kalina accepted his hand graciously while surreptitiously glancing around his office.

  The space consisted of a cluttered desk, a high-backed faux-leather chair for him, two hard need-to-be-reupholstered chairs for guests, a file cabinet that looked to be on its last leg of life, and no windows. Four walls surrounded the closet-like space, effectively boxing its occupants in for the duration they stayed. Kalina felt claustrophobic already.

  “Nice to see you again, Kalina,” Dorian said as she let her hand slide from his grasp.

  He had a nice, firm handshake and was dressed in dark brown slacks and a beige dress shirt. He’d forgone the tie but from the haphazard way the top button of his shirt was undone she knew it was most likely somewhere in this office. Probably beneath the suit jacket that hung on the back of the door Jax had just closed. Her guard with his six-plus-foot, 285-pound body looked like he was being stuffed in this Cracker Jack box of an office. But he wasn’t leaving Kalina’s side, not for one instant.

  “Hello, Dorian. It’s been a while” was her cordial response as she took a seat.

  Dorian’s gaze went to Jax, who’d fitted himself in a corner, crossing his beefy arms over his massive chest.

  “Jax is my guard,” she said nonchalantly. “He goes where I go.”

  Dorian nodded, giving Jax no more than another quick stare before returning to Kalina.

  “So you need a guard now?” he asked, taking his seat again and coming forward to rest his elbows on his desk. “Somebody after you?”

  Kalina shrugged. “You never know. My husband would rather be safe than sorry.”

  “That’s right.” Dorian nodded as he spoke. “You married Roman Reynolds. The subject of your previous investigation. How’s that going?”

  “It’s going very well, thank you” was her quick reply. She was sure to keep a smile on her face and her gaze on Dorian. He looked at her as if he could see things that weren’t there. A few months ago this might have made Kalina nervous, as she was just getting used to the feline side of her gene pool. Now, as comfortable in human form as she was on four legs, she simply watched him in return.

  There was something about the agent that he didn’t want people to know, a part of him that wasn’t quite the norm. She recognized that as a trait she’d carried for most of her life and wondered briefly where Dorian’s secret door would lead. But that wasn’t why she’d come.

  “I understand you’re investigati
ng murders now? Has the illegal drug trade dried up?”

  Her words were only a mild surprise, which Dorian masked with a tentative smile. “You know how it is, Kalina. You find a clue that seems to connect the dots and you follow the trail. That’s what I’m doing, following the trail.”

  “And it’s led you to Xavier Santos-Markland?”

  “It’s led me to a suspect.”

  “He’s not a killer,” she said, knowing in her mind that was only half true. “He couldn’t have done that to that girl.”

  “How do you know what was done to her? And what are you, his character witness?”

  “I’m his friend. And I know what was done to her because I’ve seen the autopsy report. And before you even bother to ask, I probably got ahold of it the same way you did so don’t get all dignified about your precious confidential information.”

  “You’re no longer with the MPD,” he told her. “You shouldn’t have access to any of their records for any reason.”

  “And you should? This is a local crime. You’re a federal drug enforcement agent. Out of your jurisdiction seems to be appropriately pinned on your collar.”

  “Like I said, the murder connects to my active drug investigation. But I must say this is a pleasant surprise—to have you here defending one of my top suspects.”

  “If he’s a top suspect, your case isn’t worth crap. All you have on him is his business card. How many strippers or prostitutes have your number, Agent?”

  He looked startled for a brief second, then sat back in his chair. His hair was like ebony, cut low and smoothed in thick waves; his eyes were dark and pensive in a face that was handsome but definitely stressed. He wasn’t married and had never been, had two sisters and his parents were still alive. Dorian Wilson was the average male, overworked, underpaid, and unhappy. But there was something else. Kalina couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she knew instinctively that there was more to this man than what the eye could see.

  “I’m not the one being investigated. Markland is. What happened to you, Kalina?” he asked her seriously. He didn’t look to Jax again, but she knew he was asking specifically about her union with Rome and subsequently her departure from the police force.

  “I grew up” was her simple reply. “I opened my eyes and realized that no matter how hard we try to convince ourselves otherwise, this world we live in is not black and white. There are always shades of gray that we overlook because we’re too afraid to accept or to not be accepted. That’s how I know Xavier is innocent and why I came here to tell you to step back and take a hard look at this situation. You might just see the things I’ve seen.”

  Not that she wanted him to see the Shadow Shifters—no, that was absolutely not what Kalina wanted. She only asked that Dorian take a deeper look into this murder to see that X wasn’t capable of doing those horrific things to Diamond Turner. The girl’s primary cause of death was an overdose of an unnamed drug. Only she knew the name; they’d begun calling it the savior drug, as evidenced by the shield on its package. It was Sabar’s greatest creation—a deadly mix of an herb called damiana and acids used to base cocaine. It was imperative that the shadows put a stop to him before any more people died because of it. If Dorian directed his energy toward getting the drug off the streets, that would be a tremendous help for the shadows. If he continued to look at X, Kalina was afraid it would end in his demise, because neither Rome nor Nick was going to allow X to be put away for murder. And knowing X, he’d kill anyone who even thought about throwing him in jail.

  “Sounds like you’re writing a book,” Dorian quipped with a shake of his head. “But I’m living in the real world. I didn’t drop my job and all my responsibilities because some rich playboy decided to look my way. You breached one of the department’s most profound rules: You slept with a suspect. Hell, you married him when you know there’s a possibility he could be as dirty as his friend. So I have to ask you again, why are you here? Why come to me about Markland? You have to know that your character is just as tainted as his now. What makes you think I’d take anything you say seriously?”

  His voice sounded incredulous, as if he really didn’t take stock in anything she’d said. Kalina knew this would be a possibility. To the human eye she had done the unthinkable. But to herself, for her own peace of mind, she’d done the only thing she could have. She’d chosen to be who she was and to live the life she was destined for. Unfortunately, Dorian would never know that.

  She came to her feet slowly, clutching her purse under her left arm and staring down at Dorian.

  “If you don’t take what I say seriously you’ll keep running in endless circles trying to pin this murder on Xavier. He’s not a killer. And the longer you keep looking in his direction the longer the real killer circulates the streets, being ingested by innocent victims and making a mad race up the charts for the world’s number one drug killer.” Then she shrugged. “But what do I know, I’m the traitor on the force. The one who wouldn’t be handled like a puppet in your game of politics versus justice any longer. It was my fault to think you, of all people, might be above that. My fault indeed.”

  As she turned to leave, Dorian got up from his chair, racing around the desk to grab her by the arm and turn her back to face him.

  “Kalina, wait,” he was saying only about a split second before Jax pushed between them.

  He held a palm to Dorian’s chest while his bulky frame blocked Kalina from further assault.

  “Don’t touch her again,” he told Dorian.

  Dorian looked down at Jax’s hand, then reached for the gun in his holster, pulling it out and clicking off the safety right in Jax’s face.

  “You do realize you’re assaulting a federal agent. I can either kill you or arrest you. Take your pick.” Dorian’s brow wrinkled, his lips going to a thin line.

  Kalina put a hand on Jax’s bicep but looked directly at Dorian. “You won’t do either if you know what’s best for you,” she said as calmly as she’d come into his office and spoken ten minutes ago. “We’re finished here, Jax.”

  The shifter gave Dorian a slight push as he moved his hand from his chest. He backed away from Dorian, keeping Kalina protected by his body. Dorian continued to hold the gun outstretched. He continued to stare at both Kalina and Jax. He did not pull the trigger and he did not call for backup to have them arrested.

  Later, Dorian would wonder why.

  * * *

  It was just after five in the afternoon when Kalina walked into Havenway—or into what she considered complete chaos.

  Jax always brought her in through the underground entrance. So after she’d taken the elevator up to the main level she came out at a side door in the front hall of the building. The original dwelling had a T shape, but Rome had ordered new construction to start on the remaining side so there would be two very long hallways with rooms and a connecting wing that would house their main briefing room, the kitchen, dining hall, and medical center. Normally, this hallway was quiet; everybody liked to use the side entrances. But today, it was brimming with shifters, guards all wearing their com links, some in small groups, others lining up and heading to the temporary briefing room. All of them were spitting mad.

  Her nostrils flared at the scent of anger and rage wafting through the air. It was a strong, potent, and very distinctive smell that reminded her of the ammonia her foster mother made her use to clean the bathrooms. Something was definitely going on.

  An alarm blared and she startled, putting a hand to her chest. That was the signal that Rome was ready for them in the briefing room. She had just taken a step to join them when Jax grabbed her arm. He’d been right behind her when she entered; then she lost track of him because of her concern for what was going on in the place she called home. He was whispering something in his com link but wouldn’t let her go.

  “FL wants you with him, now,” was all Jax said before guiding her through the mass of guards heading in the same direction.

  Her heart beat fran
tically in her chest as so many different scenarios raced through her mind. At least Rome was safe; she could breathe easily about that. But this, everything going on around her, was definitely a sign of something big.

  The briefing room was roughly the size of a gymnasium, which wouldn’t be able to house all the active shifter guards in DC much longer. There was a stage toward one end, and a podium with a sound system had been set up there. Behind the stage the wall was draped in black, the Topètenia insignia in a vibrant green color that reminded her of the foliage in the Gungi poking through the intense black, growing and dominating just about every part of the rain forest. The floor was a dark laminate with cushioned chairs lined in rows of twenty across, ten upward, on each side with a three-foot-wide aisle in between.

  Jax escorted her down as guards filed inside, taking whatever seats were available. The stage was still empty, so she looked around for Rome and let out a breath of release when he and Nick followed by Eli and Ezra came through a side door. Everyone took the stage except Rome, who stood there looking at her like he’d lost his best friend. The fact that his slacks and suit jacket were black added to his somber facade. His shoes were shined as always, the dark-chocolate hue of his skin and deep brown eyes lending its own air of resignation to his stance.

  “Oh God, X,” she said rushing toward him, falling into his open arms.

  He shook his head, enfolding her against his chest, holding her there tightly. “No. It was Seth.”

  The strangled cry that came from her then was heartfelt and cut through her with a ruthless intensity that had tears stinging her eyes. “What happened?” she asked, pulling back just enough to look into her husband’s somber brown eyes.

  “Rogues” was all he said.

  Kalina could tell this was hard for him. His teeth clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his jaw.

  “They’re all here,” Eli whispered to Rome.

  Rome nodded and kept his arm around Kalina. She took the stairs to the stage before him, but felt comforted by his hand at her back. Eli and Jax followed them both just like shadows. She could literally hear them breathing behind her, they were so close.