by Ann Gimpel
“The way things are going, maybe not,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
When the car rolled into a rundown neighborhood filled with boarded-up tenements, she checked the address against the one in her computer. She was in the right place, but it didn’t feel safe to get out of her car. She glanced about. Where could she even leave the car? From the looks of things, it would be either vandalized or stolen the minute she walked away from it.
At least parking was plentiful. She shot Ryan a quick text. His answer was, Do what you have to. Don’t worry about the car. We can send another or a hovercraft to pick you up.
Movement caught her eye. A young thug chased another, hit him in the head with a brick, grabbed his wallet, and ran. Kate scrambled out of her car, locked it, and raced to the victim. He was unconscious. Blood poured down his face. Her heart ached. He didn’t look much more than twelve. She dialed the emergency access code on her wrist computer. It would transmit the victim’s location.
Kate thought about staying with him, but didn’t feel all that secure out in the open. If the cops had put out an ABP on her, she wasn’t safe anywhere.
She patted his hand, told him help was on the way even though she knew he couldn’t hear her, and jogged to the address she’d been given. She had to be careful mounting the steps since they were rotting away with gaping holes. She knocked. The door opened a few inches. A dark, swarthy man eyed her. “What?”
“I was given this address. Friends of mine are here.”
“One of them, eh?” He eyed her. “If you lied and you ain’t, I’ll have some fun with you.”
“Like hell you will.”
Desperate to find Devon, Kate pushed past him. Her eyes widened. Once she got away from the entry hall, the interior was in good repair. Smells of mold, mildew, and rotting garbage faded.
She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Devon.”
A door slammed. “Aw, Christ! Kate.” Feet pounded toward her. She sprinted in the direction of the sound. Their bodies hurtled together. His arms wrapped around her. She twined hers around him. Breath caught in her throat. Relief so sweet and dizzying she almost passed out sluiced through her.
“Our mated one. It’s our mated one,” her cat purred.
“You’re safe. Thank God you’re safe,” she said over and over, face buried against his chest. “I’ve been so scared—”
“I could say the same thing,” he murmured against her hair. “Watch my right side.”
“Oh my God. Are you hurt?” She stepped back and took a good hard look at him. “Holy crap, you look like hell. Your face is gray and the skin under your eyes is nearly black. When did you last sleep?”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “Not for the last two nights, that’s for sure.” His gaze lingered on her. He bent and brushed her lips with his. “I love you, Kate. I was terrified I’d lost you. Did you get my message?”
She nodded, gaze glued on his. “Luck was with me. It was on my screen for all of a couple of seconds.” She touched his cheek. “I love you, too. My heart, my life. When you didn’t show last night—”
“How do you suppose I felt when my captain sent the dogs after you?” He shook his head. “Hell, I’m so tired, I can barely think. Let’s get this over with. Max told me you were coming—and a bunch of other stuff, too. I’ve been worried sick something happened to you. Why’d it take you so long to get here and who made you up like a circus clown?”
“Traffic was hideous, even worse than usual. The answer to your other question is one of the underground security squad moonlights as a makeup artist.” She trotted to keep up with his long-legged stride. “How many of the Tracker squad were killed yesterday?”
“Nine. Six shifters and three humans, if you count Tanaka.” He glanced at her, dark eyes brimming with pain. “Those guys were so courageous. They thought what happened to us was wrong, so they put their lives on the line. That’s what cops do when something doesn’t resonate.”
“So forty-one are left, thirty-seven shifters and four humans.”
He nodded. “We did a head count. The missing ones were verified as dead.”
Sadness tinged with anger made a spot behind her breastbone ache. Her cat howled mournfully in her mind. Kate clenched her jaw and tried to refocus. “What is this place?”
Devon snorted. “It’s a hideout for organized crime. One of the guy’s cousins… It doesn’t matter. We needed a meeting place. This was better than most because the mob has MD connections. Most of us needed patching up. Everyone’s in here.” He pushed a door open.
Kate stared. Men sat at tables, or lay on them. Bandages were piled in a corner. A couple of men in blood-spattered blue smocks worked on the injured. Tall, blond, with Nordic features, they could have been twins. The sharp scents of antiseptic and blood blended in an unpleasant mélange. She muted her cat senses. “Have you spoken with the men?”
“I thought I’d wait till the docs were done.”
One of the MDs walked to Devon. “Some of these men will need follow-up. We left written orders with each of them.”
The other doc came trotting up. He patted Devon’s side. “How’re those stitches feeling?”
“Uncomfortable, just like you predicted.”
“Hmph. Don’t forget the antibiotics. You can take the bandage off in two days. No showers until then. Use compresses as hot as you can stand a few times a day after that. Be alert for red streaks or fever. If everything looks good, have someone take the stitches out in seven to ten days.”
“Got it. You done here?”
The doctors exchanged glances. “Yeah,” the one who’d asked about Devon’s stitches said. “Who’s going to pay us?”
“How much?” Devon asked.
The men stepped to one side, heads bent together, voices low. One left the room, the other returned to Devon and Kate. “Ten thousand credits. We gave you a break. That barely covers our supplies.”
“If you give me an account number—”
The doctor shook his head. “Black market cash only. Last thing we need is an account infusion from a questionable source.”
Kate stepped closer. “I’m sure we can manage that.” She shot Ryan a text, looked up from the screen, and met the doctor’s blue gaze. “Can you sit tight for half an hour?”
He nodded. She tapped a few more keys. “Okay. A courier will be here soon. He’ll come inside.”
“Thanks. You have no idea how hard it is to make a living since the government socialized medicine.” The MD shot her a blinding smile, then left.
Kate gathered her thoughts. She walked to the front of the room with Devon and waited for him to lead out. He clapped his hands together. The men who’d been talking quieted. “We have safe haven for all of you—”
“What about our wives and kids?” one of the men asked.
“Them, too. There’s a large safe house that could accommodate all of you and your immediate families. But it will mean you have to drop out of sight. Your kids won’t have access to their friends, or their school. You’ll effectively disappear. In time, you’ll be relocated to other communities elsewhere in the country with new identities.”
“You have several options,” Kate broke in. “Three, to be precise. You can return to your life. The thirty-seven of you who are shifters can try to manage on your own, but I will tell you once you’ve shifted, it’s not something you can walk away from.”
“Door number two,” Devon took over, “is you can go to the safe house without your loved ones. They will eventually believe you’ve died and move on with their lives. I know that’s harsh, but it’s the cleanest choice.”
“The third option,” Kate said, “is we will round up your families and transport them to safe haven where you will be reunited with them.”
“Can I talk with my wife first?” a man shouted.
“Unfortunately, no,” Devon replied. “I understand it would make it easier, but we cannot let people outside our network even know about the existenc
e of shifter safe houses. I’m trusting those of you who choose to return to your lives will keep your mouths shut.”
“We won’t have a job,” someone pointed out.
“Probably not,” Devon agreed. “Not after the way we left the station house.”
“If we’re declared missing or dead,” another cop said, his tone reflective, “widows’ and orphans’ benefits kick in for our wives and kids.”
“Does anyone have questions?” Devon’s gaze scanned the crowd.
“It’s kind of like the witness protection program, but with more rules,” a man said.
A corner of Devon’s mouth turned down. “You got it.”
“Take your time.” Kate took a step forward. “But not more than an hour. This isn’t the kind of thing which will get easier the longer you think about it. Make your decision. Devon and I will be over in that corner.” She pointed to a table. “Come one by one and let us know. Be forewarned, though. For those of you who pick the safe house, I’ll be asking you a bunch of in-depth questions. So will Devon. We cannot afford to be compromised.”
* * * *
Kate slugged back cold coffee. She met Devon’s tired gaze. “That’s the last of them. Gee, who would have thought so many would want to sign on? All but three. I tested their answers with magic and they pinged true.”
“I’m surprised, too. Crap.” He dragged a hand down his face, distorting his features. “What a wretched choice to have to make. The ones leaving their families behind broke my heart.” He glanced at the sheet of paper in front of him and counted, “Five men with nine children between them.”
“It’s more than sad. It’s appalling they had to make such a sacrifice. I’m sure some of them took our offer to spare their families the humiliation of being affiliated with a shifter.”
Anger prickled down her spine. She wanted to kill the supercilious bastards who thought they were better just because they were human. “When did we become such pariahs?” Deep inside, her cat grumbled. Kate shoved her emotions to a back burner so she wouldn’t shift, go racing outside, and kill whoever crossed her path. “Guess I ought to text Ryan.”
“Yeah, ask him about the humans. I’d love to have them on our side, but make sure it’s okay for them to throw their lot in with us. None of them had families. Probably made the choice easier.” He blew out a tense breath. “Speaking of families, I hope the shifters’ families don’t give us any trouble.”
Kate’s nodded, fingers flying over her display. She looked up. “Max had the same concerns. The families will have an intermediary stopping-off point to double-check there’s not an insurrection among any of the wives or kids.”
She tapped a few more keys. “Humans are fine.” She met Devon’s worried gaze. “Ryan will be sending cars at intervals. He estimates it will take twenty-four hours to transport everyone. Do we have enough food?”
Devon nodded. “We’ll stay until everyone’s left. We need to see this through.”
“I’ll let the men know. Stretch out on a table.” She brushed her fingers over the back of his hand. “Grab some sleep. I’ll wake you if I need you.” Kate watched him walk to one of the long tables. Love swelled inside her. She longed to lie next to him and hold him close, but that would have to wait.
She glanced at the names on the list in front of her and worried about the three shifters who’d said they couldn’t bear to leave their current lives. Kate was certain the police would hunt them down and kill them. They’d be easy enough to find.
She had time—it would be at least an hour before the first transport showed up—so she gathered them and talked about the impossibility of maintaining their current day-to-day lives. They faced almost certain imprisonment or death. She also touched on genetics and the odds their children might either be shifters or could turn into shifters with a little assistance from the infusion.
“Why would they want to?” a young, redheaded officer asked. “It’s like signing up for a life in hell.”
Kate’s eyes flashed. “No, it’s not. We have magic. Our animals are strong and beautiful and wise. If humans knew what they were missing, they’d kill to be like us.” She took a breath. “What’s disappeared since the government turned us into persona non grata is our pride in what we are. We used to have that in spades before some cretin decided we were dangerous. Shit. When I got out of the car today, a human kid ran another one down and bashed his skull in. For every shifter who got out of control and harmed a human, there have been a thousand humans who did the same thing.”
“She’s right,” the officer muttered. “Okay,” he met her gaze, hazel eyes troubled. “I’m in.” A corner of his mouth turned down. “Hope my wife doesn’t kill me.”
“Those of you with families will have a transitional stopping-off point to sort things out—”
“Why didn’t you say that before?” an older Asian man asked.
“Because I didn’t know.”
“In that case, I’m in.”
“Me, too,” the third cop, an East Indian, chimed in a mild British accent.
Thank God. Kate let her eyes close for a moment. “Great, I’ll let the underground know. Each of you is valuable. We need your talents. We have work for you.”
“Thank you,” the Asian murmured. “My biggest worry was how I was going to make a living. All I’ve ever done is police work. Places like the black market shops, they don’t want to hire guys like me.”
“Yeah,” the redhead said. “Thanks. I went into law enforcement to help people, but either they hate me, or they’re afraid.”
“You’re welcome.” Kate put out her hand. All three men shook it.
She went to tell Devon, but he was snoring softly. Taking care to be quiet, she pulled up a chair and sat next to him, determined to keep watch. Fierce protectiveness burned like a beacon inside her. Now she finally had him by her side, no force on earth would ever separate them again.
She thought about the men scattered about the room. They were good men, conscientious and courageous. To be persecuted for the effects of a drug which had been forced on them was unconscionable. Surely there’d be a way to blow this thing sky-high if they could sneak it into the media. Maybe it would help undo the negative propaganda which had pushed shifters into no-man’s land.
Chapter 14
Twenty-six hours later
Kate staggered as she led Devon down the hallway to her room in the underground’s safe house. She’d gotten a little sleep after Devon woke, but not nearly enough. “We got lucky,” she murmured.
His arm around her waist tightened. She leaned into him. “We sure did. We still have each other.”
“That, too. It was a miracle my car was in one piece. When we finally left that crappy tenement, I was expecting it to be gone, or sitting on blocks. Whoops, overshot the room.” She doubled back and slapped her palm on the glass plate. The door clicked and she pushed it open.
Devon scooped her into his arms and carried her inside.
“Hey,” she protested. “You’re hurt. Put me down.”
“Not that hurt.” He kicked the door shut, bent his head, and kissed her, mouth hard and demanding. She gave herself up to his probing tongue, teasing it with her own. Lust roared through her. He growled low in the back of his throat and set her down. “Cat wants out.”
She understood; hers did, too. Her blood heated. Everything tingled with unfulfilled need. “Shall we?”
He shook his head. “I can’t. If I shift, it will rip my bandages and my stitches.” He snorted. “Hell, I’d like to take a shower before I make love with you. I can smell myself, but I’m not supposed to take the bandage off for another day.”
She laid a finger over his lips, beautiful, full, and sensuous. “We’ll manage. Let me undress you. Then we’ll go in the bathroom and I’ll give you a sponge bath.”
“Is that a proposition, Miss Roman?”
“It can be anything you want.” Happiness filled her. For a moment, she felt guilty. The world was fall
ing in pieces around them, but denying themselves the pleasure of one another’s bodies wouldn’t change that. Ryan had told her he didn’t expect to see either of them until they’d rested. She went into the bathroom and passed a hand over the left side of the sink. It began filling with hot water. She tossed a washcloth in the basin and turned to Devon who’d followed her. “You were supposed to wait in the bedroom.”
“Didn’t want that much real estate separating us.” His arms closed around her. He pulled her roughly against him, breath hot against her hair. She wound her arms around his back. Damn! He just felt so good, so right in her arms.
He rocked his hips against her. The jut of him, hot and hard, prodded her stomach. “I can’t believe how horny you make me. By rights I should be face down on the bed asleep, but all I can think about is shoving those pants down and getting inside you.”
“Know what you mean.” Her nipples formed hard peaks where they pressed against his chest. Her pussy turned to molten heat. She wanted to take him up on the suggestion to simply get her pants out of the way. He could take her standing. She’d climb up his wonderful body, settle her pussy over him, and—Kate steadied her breathing. Her legs around him would rub against his wound, maybe even break it open. She took a step back. “Let’s do at least a cursory cleanup.”
“So long as it’s fast. If I wait much longer, I’ll rip your clothes off and ravish you.” He made a wonderful hungry cat sound. It rumbled deep in his throat.
She felt wobbly, nearly crazed with lust. He’d left his vest in the bedroom. She reached for the buttons on his shirt and undid them one by one.
Her fingers trailed down his perfect chest starting with skin and ending on the twelve inches of bandage swathed around him. She gasped. “Christ! Must be a hell of a wound. How many stitches?” She eased his shirt off and started on his jeans.
“More than thirty. Hurt like the devil. Doc didn’t use any local anesthetic.”
She glanced at his feet. “Got to get your boots off. Here, lean on me.” He kicked the battered, leather motorcycle boots off and pushed his pants down. They pooled on the floor; he stepped out of them.