by Sarra Cannon
“What are you talking about?” Sera squeezed his arm. A cool evening breeze blew in from the cracked window. The fading light meant they’d overstayed this little reunion.
Talon nodded to her. “Let’s discuss it in the car.” He extended his hand. “Senator, thank you for your time.”
The old man shrunk as if he’d been struck. “You’re leaving so soon.” He ignored Talon’s olive branch and stared at Sera. Pain etched along the creases under his eyes.
“Yeah,” she said, the single word broken in two.
Talon hurried them along, pulling her to the entryway. “And Senator the next time your daughter’s life is threatened, perhaps you’ll report it instead of sending us a recommendation letter.”
A young man’s swiftness blanketed the old man’s steps as he crossed the room. With chin raised in defiance, he puffed up to his full height. Unable to meet Talon at eye level, he still managed to sear him with an icy glare. “Agent, understand this. I’d already been a police chief for over a decade when you were no more than a punk rookie.” He jabbed a finger into Talon’s chest. “I’ve solved more cases in one year than you’ve seen in your entire career. And I didn’t get to sit in a senator’s chair because I’m a fool.” He’d swear SUB energy flared from Sera’s very human father. “So don’t presume to lecture me on my daughter’s safety.”
The thin thread of patience Talon had been working with snapped. Apparently, Sera felt the same. She grabbed Talon by the arm and motioned for him to make his exit. Go, she mouthed before rallying on the old man. He stopped outside the door and waited for her, watching the scene unfold. His shifter energy spiked to the extreme, tingling under his skin.
Sera’s words stabbed the air as sharp as knives. She narrowed her eyes at her father. “Look here. You don’t know shit about me. Not anymore. Not after eight years. So don’t presume to know what’s best for me—or my safety.”
“Sera, I,” a low sob broke from the senator, “I just want what’s best for you. I want you to be happy.”
“Happy? Happy? I lose my father, my home, everything.” She swatted the air. “Happy? Give me a break.”
“I didn’t know how it hurt you.” He backed toward the desk, bowing at the waist so that he hunched over.
“Now, you do.” Tears welled in her eyes and it took every ounce of Talon’s strength not to go to her. She spun away, her footfalls landing heavy over the linoleum floor.
“Sera, please,” her father cried. His voice sounded so small.
“I’m sorry, Dad.” A sniffle escaped her. “It’s too much right now. Maybe...maybe another time.” She closed the door. It squeaked open again as she retreated down the hall. But she didn’t look back.
Talon jogged to catch up to her. She kept going straight through the lobby and out to the car without slowing. The passenger door shot open and closed fast. He jumped into the driver’s side and gripped the wheel. “I’m not sure what to say.”
“Why’s that not a surprise?” Her feet hit the dashboard, the boot heels denting the plastic.
“I’m here, Sera.” He reached across the divide between them and massaged the nape of her neck.
She angled away from his grip. “Are you, Talon?” Her tone held a sharp bite to it, not loud, but hard as stone. “Because this morning you made it pretty damn clear the only person you care about is yourself.”
The wind picked up stronger than before, batting the truck. Talon imagined it shattering the windows, the glass shards stabbing him in the chest. Her words had that effect. “You think I don’t care about anyone?” He struggled to keep calm. His muscles tensed under the shifter buzz. “I have my team to worry about, victims to seek justice for, a slew of people rely on me. And you think I don’t care?”
“You’re right,” she spat. “I forgot. When it comes to work, you’re all in. No problem. It’s just every other part of life you can’t deal with.”
“My work is about saving lives, Sera. Your life for a start.” He fisted the driver’s side headrest. “What would you have me do, huh?”
“Maybe show some damn emotion.” She fidgeted in the seat, putting her legs under her and rising to stare him in the eye. “You sleep with me how many times last night? I tell you about one of the most nightmarish moments of my life...” Her bottom lip quivered a touch, and damn if he didn’t want to run his thumb across it. He held back the urge. She frowned. “I don’t have casual one night stands. I thought I made that pretty obvious.”
“Wait.” He held up his hands and sucked in a breath. “You think I see you as a one night stand?”
“Well, you sure as hell don’t want more from me.”
“Sera, do you have any idea how badly I want to hold you right now?” He let his hand drop to her headrest, inches from her cheek. “When you were talking to your father, I wanted to go in there and kick his ass just because he’d hurt you. After you let me in, I nearly shifted from the frustration. I wanted to hold you so much.”
“Why didn’t you?” Her shoulders shook.
He stared out the window and watched the wind toss leaves around the hood. Her question haunted him. He searched his mind, looking for the answer. If she could share such a painful memory with him, then he could at least give her a reason for his...less than admirable behavior. Okay, fine he’d been a Grade-A jackass. But why?
“I...” He paused. The memories from his childhood burned through him like hot coals. He didn’t have the stomach for them. “I don’t know.”
She sighed. “I think you do.” Shadows danced behind her eyes. “We all have our demons Talon. What’re yours?” She rested her head against the seat. “I can take quite a lot. I faced my father for the first time in eight years this afternoon. I handled you humiliating me this morning—”
“I didn’t mean to.” He cupped her cheek.
She didn’t push him away. “I know, but you did. I think I deserve to know why.” The seconds ticked by, but he still couldn’t find the real reason underneath the excuses. She guided his hand away from her cheek. “You told me I was a distraction. That you couldn’t get close to anyone.” She sat taller and raised her head again. “Who taught you to be so cold?”
“I’m not...I need to...My job...Hell.” He cleared his throat. The truth stared him in the face, those awful memories. He’d never spoken it aloud before. He’d have to now. He would...for her. The nightmare spun in his head, until the words tore from him.
“Shh, baby. Stay quiet. Just stay in here. Don’t move.” His mother implored, her voice breaking on unshed tears.
“Okay, mama. I promise.” Talon crouched in the corner beside his bed. His muscles ached as long minutes of silence stiffened his resolve. He would not move. He would not scream. Mama told him not too.
A crash shook the house as his father slammed the front door.
“What the hell is this, Lily?” The thick booming bass of his father’s shouts sent shivers through Talon’s blood. “Why do I smell a man in here?”
“Steven came by. Only Steven to see about the academy for Talon.”
“I don’t need that government lackey turning my son’s head. PCD! What the hell is that anyway?” Heavy steps echoed over the floor. “Some mumbo jumbo. Shifters can take care of their own. He’ll go into the military like his father. I’ll teach him about doing the right thing.”
“What would you know about doing the right thing, you miserable drunk?” she shouted. Crazy. His mother had gone crazy. It was the only explanation for her arguing with his father. No one argued with father. Ever.
Screams. Gut-wrenching, awful screams filled his ears. He didn’t move. His legs froze as if carved of ice. He stuffed his fist into his mouth to keep from crying out. Collapsing, he sunk to the thick carpet and hugged his legs into his chest. He was small for an eight-year-old, a fact his father liked to remind him of daily. As he spied the narrow space between his bed and the floor, he willed his tiny body to unfurl and lay flat on his stomach, then he wriggled under the fram
e until hidden from view by the dust ruffle.
Bang. Thump. Scream. The pattern repeated over and over. Bang. Thump. Scream. Eventually the screams altered to moans, then whimpers, then silence. A final slam, a door slam, and the house shook again.
Talon didn’t know how many seconds, minutes, hours passed before he found the courage to pull himself from under the bed. But when he finally did, and walked to the living room, he wished he’d never gotten up.
His mother lay sprawled over the remains of the coffee table. Her head cocked at an awkward angle. Caught in a shift, her hands curved into lethal claws, but each finger bent backward. He wanted to look away, needed to, but his gaze traveled down her battered body to the floor.
Blood. So much blood. The thick reddish brown liquid seeped into the carpet, creating a stain he knew would never disappear.
He screamed. Mother had told him to stay quiet, but what she said no longer matter. She would never speak again, so he screamed and screamed and screamed.
“My gods, Talon.” Sera’s hands covered her mouth. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Those gentle fingers reached for him and squeezed his arm. He gripped the steering wheel, not able to look her in the eye. “What happened after she...after...?”
“The trial went on for months, but eventually the jury convicted my father of murder.” The windshield blurred before his eyes. Were those tears? No, he wouldn’t let them fall. “The judge gave him life, and even that didn’t seem enough.” He shook off her hold and swiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Damn emotion. No...no. He wouldn’t think like that. “Bram raised me. I went into the academy. The PCD taught me the importance of duty, honor. Emotions had to be stamped out. Feelings were a commodity I couldn’t afford.”
“The PCD taught you that?”
“No, my father. He taught me.” He finally looked at her, expecting to find pity in her face. Instead, he found a compassion and understanding that nearly undid him. “Shifters are volatile by nature, but my father was more so. It’s in me, Sera. This need...these urges. If I don’t squash down my emotions, I could end up hurting, killing the people that matter most. I can’t afford to care about anyone.”
“But you do feel.” She placed her warm palm on his knee. “You care about your team. You care about justice for the victims. You couldn’t do your job, if you didn’t feel.” Her breath hitched. “You’re not cold, Talon. Hot and cold, yes. Not all cold.”
“I don’t want that. I don’t want to push people away. I don’t want to push you away.” He met her gaze. The sky drifted from a burnt orange to a deep blue, casting her face in evening light. “I’m sorry, Sera. I never meant to hurt you.”
“It’s, well...it’s not okay. But I get it. I do.” Sera’s eyes filled with fire. “And I’m glad you’re here.”
His muscles relaxed. Tension that had plagued him fell in the span of a heartbeat. He reached across the car and pulled her into his arms. “I am, you know,” he whispered in her ear. “Here for you, I mean.”
“I know.” She buried her face against his chest. “And I’m here for you too.” Her hair tickled his neck. “I’m glad you told me about your family. I’m so sorry for your pain, but it helps me understand you better.” She pulled back a bit and wrinkled her nose. “Not that it excuses your behavior, mind you. You’ll have to make it up to me.”
“You’re right.” He grinned wolfishly, determined to lighten the mood. “Ever been to the Grand Lux Hotel?”
“No.” Her eyebrows rose. A scowl crossed her face. “What did you have in mind?”
He waved a hand helplessly. “Not what you’re thinking.” He shook his head. “Well, maybe a little, but not entirely. The place is special.”
She snorted. “What’s so special about it?”
“It just happens to be the nicest hotel in District 8.” He cranked the radio to an old rock station. “And a safe house.”
“A hotel that’s a safe house?” She blushed and damn if it wasn’t adorable. He started the car, hoping to hell she’d forgive him. Cause he so wanted to make it up to her. Her head cocked to the side. “How’s that possible?”
He laughed. The sound mixed with the radio’s rock anthem of drums and bass guitar. “I could tell you, but it’d ruin the effect.”
“Alright then.” Her scent spiked, wreaking havoc on his self-control. She grinned and propped her feet on the dash again. “Show me.”
Chapter 19
108 STONE BLVD, CALGARY, ALBERTA
Jame sucked her teeth at the powerhouse white Dodge Charger. The car bellowed when Slick revved the engine. She’d nagged him for a stealth vehicle to investigate the newest lead, but he’d insisted on this stick-out-like-a-sore-thumb hunk of tin. He claimed if the address turned out to be hot, they’d need the extra zero to sixty in six seconds the Hemi V8 engine provided.
“Let’s get the show on the road, Slick.” Jame slammed the passenger door and strapped in.
“Hold up a minute. What did Valkyrie say about their hunt?” Slick fiddled with buttons. The overhead lights flicked on and off. Music blasted from the speakers.
“Stop messing around.” She pulled out her cell to decrypt the text message. Talon had given the marching orders earlier, but refused to relay the coordinates, opting for Meg’s tech skills to send the address on a secure channel. “Leads have all ended up cold. No shocker. So don’t be disappointed if this turns out to be nothing.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not banking on it.” He drummed a beat on the steering wheel, waiting for her to punch in the directions.
The text popped up after the decryption sequenced kicked in. Jame plugged the address into the GPS. Once acquired, Slick pulled out of the parking lot, casting an envious look at the headquarters for PCD District 8. Jame turned to follow his gaze. The building’s chrome exterior gleamed in the sun’s fading light and screamed badass. The rooms inside all matched. Slick had practically salivated when he’d stuffed Drake into a holding cell complete with titanium bars.
“Bull taking care of things on his end?” Slick slanted his eyes at her.
Jame scowled back. His lips pulled into an innocent what-did-I-do expression. She wasn’t buying it. “If you mean, is Bull making sure Drake doesn’t escape his unnecessary lockdown. Then yes, Slick.” She grabbed her thighs and squeezed to control the shifter buzz. Energy poured out of her in low waves. “Bull’s taking care of things.”
“Down, Jame.” He took one hand off the wheel to run it through his hair. “Didn’t mean to ruffle your fur. Just checking.”
“You shouldn’t have to check at all.” With her legs in a death grip, the rest of her body vibrated close to that shifting edge. “He’s not a threat. It’s stupid you think so, and even stupider Talon agrees.”
Slick scratched behind his ear, eyes fixed on the road. “Maybe some truth to that, but let’s focus.” He pulled a right at the next intersection. “Let’s say we’re about to find the perp mastermind right now. Wanna take bets on who he is?”
“Nice segue.” She breathed out slowly. The shifter vibe dulled to a subtle buzz. Flicking a hair tie off her wrist, she snapped it around her hair and tied it high atop her head. “Now, what are your terms?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Terms?”
“For our bet.” She flipped the visor to look in the mirror and smooth down flyaway strands. Her lips puckered. “What do I get if I win?”
“Name your prize.”
“Hmmm.” She unlocked her seatbelt, pushing it aside to adjust her shoulder holster. The setting sun gleamed off her Glock 22. She covered it with her black leather jacket and strapped back in. “How about winner does the other’s paperwork for a month?”
Slick clicked his teeth. “Nah, Talon would never let that fly.”
“Yeah, true.” Her fingers tapped along her collarbone. She glanced outside at the rows of residential houses. The GPS was leading them into suburbanville. “How about...food runs? Winner’s responsible for picking up and payi
ng for food runs for a month.”
“I like it.” He smiled. “Now, here’s my bet—”
She slapped the dashboard. “What ever happened to ladies first?”
“It’s to your advantage to go second.” He pulled the car around a slow moving jackass.
“Fine.” She huffed and slumped in the seat.
“Thank you.” He winked. She rolled her eyes. “As I was saying, I’m thinking our bad guy ends up being one of the Senator’s rivals.” The GPS spat out another quick curve that had him digging the wheel hard to the left. Jame mumbled at his driving skills, but he continued unperturbed. “Probably some bloodsucker with a Napoleon complex. Bet he needs the political boost to feel alive.”
“And you base this brilliant theory on?”
“On the fact Meg thinks the Senator’s being blackmailed, and Sera’s tie to the crimes back it up.” He waved a hand in the air. “Plus, we know the murders have more than one perp involved and their newbie vamps.”
“Or newbie phage.” Jame held up her index finger like a schoolteacher.
“Uh huh. Either way, the perp behind the curtain definitely has something against Sera’s father.” He slowed the car. The GPS indicated their destination imminent. “And I wouldn’t be surprised at all to find a master vamp behind a newbie bloodsucker army.”
Jame shook her head. “So you think some unknown master vampire with a Napoleon complex and a boner for politics is raising a bunch of newbies to blackmail the Senator and go after his daughter?” She cast a glance over the road as darkness descended. “That’s pretty damn ridiculous.”
His cheeks hollowed as if he’d sucked on a lemon. “Ok, genius. What’s your theory? That no good bloodsucker tell you anything about his bloodsucker friend.”
“Numb nut, cool it with the bloodsucker talk. They’re not all bad.” She swatted his arm.
His brows pulled together, but he nodded. “Sure.”
“Anyway, if you’re talking about Drake, then yeah, he gave me some intel.” Heat crept to her cheeks. He muttered a curse under his breath, but she pretended she hadn’t heard him. “He said we should be looking at phage as our suspects. He claims since the victims were drained of blood it points as evidence to the phage.”