by Eve Langlais
“Charlie, his sister, knows we’re lending a hand. She’s aware of the danger, and what we are, but her brother has no idea.”
She frowned. “Charlie? Wait, you mean the human girl who married Lawrence?” Considered the most eligible bachelor, she’d had a few fantasies about the playkitty in her time. She’d skipped the wedding due to previous plans.
“That’s the one. Peter is her brother, and he’s oblivious about what we are.” And it would stay that way unless there were extenuating circumstances. The circle of knowledge about their existence remained tight.
Double whammy. “In other words, I need to play him like I’m a dirty secret. Got it.”
Arik coughed. “Yeah, I don’t think you need to get that close. Surveillance should be enough to start and protection in case someone comes after him.”
Boring. “No problem. Where’s he staying?” She really hoped they could shove him in a suite at the condo complex.
“One of our public Pride Group properties.” The public ones being the buildings that housed humans, making their business portfolio appear more balanced to any observant types.
“If you’re worried about his safety, it would be easier to guard him where we have lots of eyes.” And by eyes she didn’t just mean the security cameras. Shifters had keen hunter senses despite decades of city living. If someone tried anything on their turf, they’d know and act.
“I don’t know if I want those chasing him getting that close to us.”
“They’re that dangerous?” she hotly exclaimed.
“I’m not exaggerating when I say what you’re doing could be of utmost importance. Peter must be watched.”
“I assume you’ve started surveillance?” Nora asked.
“While he was still on the honeymoon cruise with his sister, the Pride subtly arranged to have an apartment leased to him and fitted with security.” Arik slid over a key. “You have a place in the building so you can be close by. This is an in-the-field op. You will have restricted contact with the Pride during it. If you need something, run it by me first.”
“I’m gonna need tech probably.” She knew right away she’d better mention it.
“Already good to go. Melly will work with you on anything you might need.”
“What if I need backup?”
“Already in place. You’ll split surveillance with Zachary Lennox.”
Zachary was a solid bloke. She’d worked with him before.
“I don’t care how you split the hours. Whatever works for you. I’ve already rented you both an apartment in the same building to make it easier. Your cover story will have you as living together, with Zach working from home as a software designer.”
Which would allow them to bring in computer equipment without question. “What about me? What’s my cover job story?”
“You are the new deli counter girl at the charcuterie across the street from the bookstore where Montgomery works.”
She blinked. “You have me slinging meat?”
“Yes. It’s the perfect spot to keep watch while he’s at work.”
“If you’re not available, is there anyone else I can talk to if I hit a pinch?”
“Secrecy is important. No one but myself, the Omega, and the Beta.” Only those in the highest echelon of the Pride would receive her reports. All requests for aid would have to go through the king or his seconds.
“You haven’t said what I’m watching for.”
“Because we’re not one hundred percent sure what we’re looking for. We do know it involves an old book, a key, and humans desperate to find some kind of treasure.”
“Ooh. What kind of treasure?”
“The kind that might entail the destruction of our kind.” An ominous declaration. “Which is why it’s so important you find out what Peter knows.”
She crinkled her nose. “You’re not making sense. You said this Peter fellow doesn’t know about shifters, so how could he pose a danger?”
“What if I told you there was a way to make you human, forever?”
She recoiled. “Ew. No.”
“Right?”
Her jaw dropped. “Wait, you’re serious.”
“Very.”
“But that’s—”
“Impossible?” Arik eyed her intently, and she wilted.
“Fuck.” Because if it existed, in the wrong hands, it could wipe them out.
“We’ve made attempts to extract anything he might know about the hidden treasure; however, he’s claiming amnesia.”
“Convenient.”
“Isn’t it though? Apparently, Mr. Peter Montgomery managed to get lost in the Russian wilderness for six months and, when he was finally found, claimed no memory of anything since he went missing.”
“Six months in the wilds and lived? Bullshit.” She snorted, mostly because she knew how unforgiving that landscape could be, having gone there on a class trip long ago. Nice country, though, if too many bears.
“There are many things about his story that don’t ring true; however, to act against Peter would upset Lawrence’s mate. Nor is it yet warranted. I’d rather try a more subtle approach first.”
“By watching the human and waiting for him to slip up?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds easy enough.”
“Did I mention the part where we’ve already countered two attempts to apprehend Peter since he resurfaced?”
“They tried to kidnap, not kill?” she mused aloud. “Meaning someone is interested in what’s inside his head.”
“And they’re working with humans,” was his ominous reply. Left unsaid but implied: Their secret was at risk.
“How do we know these humans aren’t after him for mundane reasons like a gambling or drug debt?”
Arik shrugged. “Thus far, attempts to question any have failed due to a lack of viable subjects.”
“You haven’t captured any?” A note of incredulity in her voice.
“More like none survived. The first one was shot by a sniper as we were trying to load him into the trunk. The last pair got hit by a semi truck during transport. Luckily, our driver walked away with barely a scratch. No matter where, they end up dying in our grasp. We appear to have a mole in our midst.”
Her mouth rounded. A traitor. The very idea. “No.”
“It’s happened too many times now to be a coincidence.”
“How have those attack parties been armed?”
“With bullets and tranquilizers. It’s our belief they’re working with a female bear, name of Lada.”
“How can anyone be in cahoots with them?” She couldn’t help the repugnance. Humans were the ultimate threat to their survival. To find a shifter betrayed that simple precept…
Arik shrugged. “That’s what we need to find out. All this interest in Peter began over an old key. If you see or hear anything about it, anything at all, let me know at once.”
This job was looking more and more interesting. “Anything else?”
“Be careful. These humans we’ve encountered aren’t messing around.”
“I’ll make sure I’m locked and loaded.”
“I know I can count on you, Nora. Be careful. The people we’re dealing with have acted rashly in the past, and I worry they might escalate.”
She almost tossed her bobbed mane in disdain. Humans against a lioness? She’d wager on herself each and every time.
Things moved fast after that conversation. Too fast for her to say anything to the biatches as she packed a suitcase, filled up some grocery bins with goods, and tossed in a potted plant for good measure.
She arrived at her temporary home with a carload of boxes, bins, and bags. Zachary was on hand to unload them. He played the part of boyfriend well. He was a nice guy. Steady. Solid. Handsome if you liked your men rugged like granite and surly to those he didn’t like.
“Hey, short stuff,” was his greeting.
They did a pretend hug, and she whispered, “I take it the subject is inside.”
“Hasn’t moved all day.”
“What floor?”
“One above us.” Zach opened her trunk and began loading up on bins, the fabric handles letting him tote a few in each hand.
She carried her plant and rolled a large suitcase.
Entering, she noticed the elevator and the staircase. Usually she took the stairs, but that would be a bitchy thing for a girlfriend to do to her loaded down “boyfriend.” Not that Zach would complain, but it would seem odd.
In the elevator, she pried more information. “Guess I get day shift ’cause of my job.”
“Yup. I left you the big bedroom since it will be quieter at night when I’m doing my thing.” His thing being on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. During quiet moments, he’d pore over the day’s footage, looking to see if anything was missed.
Their apartment had a painted brown door with a peephole. Three doors on each side of the hall for a total of six apartments per floor.
Zach unlocked it, and they entered the basic space. First a hall with doors leading off of it, including the bedroom with attached bath. At the end of the hall, a living room with couch, low-slung table. A big chair and moveable desk set up with three screens took pride of place. Right off the living room was the kitchen with its breakfast bar and high-top dining set in chrome.
Nicer than a few places she’d had to do surveillance in. “Give me a second to drop this, and we’ll go over the case,” she said. The plant and suitcase went into the bedroom, the corner apartment unit having a window that overlooked the alley and the fire escape.
She emerged to find Zach in his spot, hands moving, headset on, all his screens showing different things.
“What’s our target been doing?”
Zach pointed to the video screen. “Montgomery hasn’t left that chair where he’s been reading a book.”
She squinted at the tome in her target’s hands. “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy? What kind of nerdy shit is that?”
Zach shrugged. “The kind that means an easy job.”
“Boring.” While male lions might like napping all the time—the grumpy Zach being no exception—she still wanted to be in on the action.
“I take it you’ve read the file on Montgomery?” She slipped into calling him by his last name.
“Yeah. Have you?”
Not yet but she planned to. In these days of modernity, his entire dossier had been sent via encrypted file to her phone. She stalled rather than read, preferring to get her own impression first rather than go in with a preconceived notion.
Since it was the weekend, Montgomery didn’t work or shower. He played video games. Texted a few times. Had some chips around three and then ordered dinner at five. It looked yummy enough that Nora got the same thing.
By the time she went to bed, he’d gone from reading to online casino gaming. When she woke, it was to get a report from Zach that the man had gamed until three.
During her turn, Montgomery slept until noon then got up and read some more. But then, rather than order in, he showered and dressed, obviously prepping to leave. Meaning she had to wake Zach. “Subject is on the move,” she told him.
“Fuck. Okay. I’m up,” the big man said, rubbing his face. “Where’s he going?”
“Given he doesn’t have a car and didn’t call for a ride, I’m guessing not far.” And then, because she was bored and not getting anywhere, she decided it was time to officially run into Montgomery.
She quickly changed and raced down the stairs, knowing she had to beat the elevator. When her target emerged onto the ground floor, Nora was ass up in the lobby doing some stretches.
What she didn’t understand was the warmth that enveloped her the moment his scent hit her. Strong spicy soap and male musk.
Tasty.
Mine.
Chapter Two
He was only human.
Peter stopped and stared at the nice ass. Firm and round, encased in a pair of those black leggings everyone was so fond of. Perfect height for tapping, if he was a perv.
He walked past it. He knew better than to get involved with someone living in the same building. He’d made that mistake years ago. An ex-girlfriend, drunk out of her mind, pounding on the door at three a.m. while the new girlfriend was blowing him meant he didn’t get to finish.
Nice Ass Lady caught up to him just as he opened the entrance door. A sense of politeness ingrained in him even after more than three decades on this Earth meant he held it and gestured. “After you.”
“Thanks.” She gave him a small smile and a dismissive glance as she shoved earbuds into her ears. Then off she went, jogging up the street, those tight glutes hypnotic.
He followed at a slower rate, hands in pockets, alert to everything around him. Paranoid as fuck despite his sister’s boyfriend assuring him he had nothing to worry about.
As if Lawrence knew for sure. He might have found Peter in that hospital and gotten him off the drugs they were pumping him with, but once they cleared his system, the memories of why they’d drugged him returned. He couldn’t even look at a box of the original and only Frosted Flakes without getting a shiver.
There was a time the mere recollection of orange and black stripes would send him into a screaming fit, the kind that brought men in white coats to lock him away. In that padded room he was safe. The tiger surely couldn’t get at him in there.
Eventually the panic stopped. He started to sleep. Remembered his name. Then he was found. Rescued at last, and while aware he’d suffered trauma, he told his sister, the doctors, everyone, that he didn’t remember a thing.
He told Charlie, his sister, he was fine. She nagged him to go see a doctor to discuss possible post-traumatic stress. One screaming nightmare and she thought he had a problem. Was it any wonder after Charlie’s honeymoon cruise—which he got dragged along on—he found himself an apartment far from his sister?
He loved her, but he couldn’t stand the hovering. And then there was his lying. He felt guilty about that most of all. She’d uprooted her life and gone to Russia looking for him. Had put herself in danger. That more than anything made him wish he could rewind the clock.
But spilled milk and all that. There was nothing to do now about it. He’d survived. Charlie met the man of her dreams as a result of his actions, so silver lining. His sister was going to have a happy life.
As for him… He had to lie low. At least for a little while until he was sure his troubles were all over. So far, so good. He’d not seen a single tiger since arriving in the United States.
His neighbor pivoted at the corner and jogged back, barely acknowledging him as she ran past.
He briefly turned to watch her go.
The view was nice.
She passed him again. Apparently, she preferred to stick close to home when she ran. He saw her sweep past yet again as he entered the tavern for dinner. Just watching her exercise made him hungry.
As taverns went, it fit the standard bill; dark, dingy, the booths high-backed and private where they sat bolted along the wall. The meals were actually more decent than the décor suggested. He shouldn’t be picky given what he’d eaten recently. The institution where he’d spent a few weeks catching invisible butterflies was particularly fond of runny, flavorless gruel. As he learned, though, a stomach wasn’t picky when it came to survival.
Only after he’d placed his order did he pull his phone from his pocket, VPN enabled to hide his activities. Most of it was innocuous shopping. Extra gaming remote, more coffee for his machine, random stuff that amounted to lots of tiny packages from multiple places, including two mailboxes he’d rented a while ago. Via a secured bitcoin account, he paid to have the mail forwarded. It and his purchases should arrive around the same time, muddling the two things he really wanted to get his hands on, despite those who might be watching.
Given his new brother-in-law helped him get the apartment, he had to wonder if his sister knew about the cameras inside. He’d spotted them
the first day. Nicely hidden. Comprised of newer, camouflaging models. But they made the mistake of wireless transmission.
Signals could always be spied on, or hijacked. Knowing someone was watching, Peter spent some time being very mundane. So far, he’d created hours of gaming, reading, and other boring stuff. Never knew when he might need to make a virtual copy of himself for watchers.
As to who was spying on him? Perhaps it was Lawrence, who had connections but wouldn’t talk about them. Had his sister married into the mob?
Kind of cool if she had, so long as he didn’t get on their bad side.
His gaze flickered to the tavern’s main door as a huge guy walked in. Close-cropped hair and trimmed goatee, built like a linebacker. Peter stared a moment, trying to place why he seemed familiar. Hadn’t he seen him from his living room window a few days ago, unloading boxes with the woman he’d seen jogging?
One of his new neighbors. He wondered if they got the same deal as him. Fully furnished apartment for less than he would have expected because his BIL knew the landlord.
Peter figured he was paying at least five hundred dollars under market, but he wasn’t complaining about that or the job Lawrence found him working in a bookstore. Mind-numbing work that gave him a cover to hide his other activities and bide his time.
A few hours later, when he paid, he noticed the neighbor had already left. Obviously not spying on him. Just like he doubted the pair of barflies—who’d arrived around the same time he did and were nursing their umpteenth beers—gave a fuck.
Paranoia was a step in the direction of the padded white room and the little pills that made him drool. Just like giving in to the urge to flinch every time he thought he saw the flick of a tail was giving in to the nightmares that plagued him.
He would be brave. There were no tigers in the city. No one left to hurt him.
He hoped.
Upon leaving the bar, he hit the sidewalk with a long stride and lost the few other pedestrians within the first block. He trudged along, hands in his pockets, head down. Both sides of the road were empty, and yet he felt watched. The skin between his shoulders prickled.