by A. C. Arthur
After their leader had spoken, none of the other FLs dared speak again, except to say good-bye.
Chapter 12
“I just need you to keep an eye on my mother for me,” Priya said to Lolo as she sat on the couch in Bas’s suite.
“Where are you?” Lolo asked. He was outside, she could hear the cars going by and the noise of the streets. A brief glance at her watch and she figured he was on his way to lunch. He’d most likely go to the Subway on the corner three blocks down and order the teriyaki chicken with spinach, pickles, and mozzarella cheese. Her stomach churned at the thought, just as it did each time she was with him and he made the order. Man, she wished she were there.
“I’m following up on a lead,” she said, taking a deep breath and focusing on speaking like she was normal, like all was well, even though it wasn’t.
Her lead had led her right into a wall—a very sexy and very perplexing wall. Sebastian Perry wanted to sleep with her, there was no doubt about that, but he didn’t want to tell her his secrets. Could she blame him? She wasn’t about to tell him hers.
“Dammit, Priya, tell me you’re not still on this Roman Reynolds trip,” Lolo argued. “I don’t think there’s anything there. And Maury was not pleased that you weren’t in this morning. He’s going to go ape-shit when he finds out you’re working on something behind his back.”
She shook her head, even though she knew Lolo couldn’t see her. “He’s not going to find out because you’re not going to tell him.”
“I’m not going to tell him that you’re following up on leads to prove something that nobody is going to believe and I’m definitely not going to tell him that you’re staking out Roman Reynolds. But I’ll tell you what is going to happen, Priya. Reynolds is going to have you arrested, or worse. His friend Xavier still has connections to the FBI even though he’s no longer working there. You know the Feds can make people disappear faster than the Mob.”
“Melodramatic much?” she quipped. “Look, I have some leave time. I’ll e-mail Maury this afternoon and tell him I’m taking a vacation. I just need you to watch my mom until I return.”
“This is crazy; how do you think you’re going to get any of them to talk to you? They don’t talk to anyone but each other, everybody knows that.”
Men talk to their lovers, Priya thought. Last night, or rather this morning she’d awakened wrapped in Bas’s arms. A mistake? He had most likely been dreaming about one of his other conquests, and she’d just happened to be there, in his bed. But while he’d held her she’d distinctly heard him say, “I will protect you.” Again, she had no reason to believe he was speaking to her directly, why would he be? He hardly even knew her. Still, the entire episode convinced Priya that now, more than ever, she needed to stay as close to Bas as possible. He would lead her to the answers she required, she had no doubt. She also had no concrete reason to believe this, especially since he’d been adamant about her not moving forward with this story, but something inside, something deep inside told her this was where she needed to be.
“I have it under control. In a couple of days I’ll have everything I need. So if you could just watch out for my mom, that would be great.”
“Watch her do what? Where are you and why can’t you watch her?”
Priya sighed, not wanting to give Lolo any more information than was absolutely necessary. He would stay safe that way, he wouldn’t be involved, and he wouldn’t suffer if she messed up.
“I’m out of town and that’s all you need to know. Look, I have to go,” she told him. “I’ll text you later.”
Priya hung up before Lolo could ask another question, which was clearly his intent as she could hear him talking as she hit the END button. Tiny spikes of guilt pricked her temples, initiating the start of what she knew would be one of her marathon migraines.
Now she was sitting on the soft leather couch, legs crossed, drumming her fingers on her knee as she tried to think of what to do next. They wanted her to expose Roman and his friends, to report on the catlike people, but Priya needed evidence. The story would never make it to print without something concrete to back it up. Maury, her editor, was a stickler for having all his ducks in a row and he would give her hell if she cut any corners. They wanted the report out by the first of next month, twenty-two days away.
What they didn’t know was that she was also trying to figure out who the hell they were, in the hopes that she could get to her brother first. With that thought in mind she riffled through her purse until she found what she was looking for. Holding the business card in her hand she read over the name and the telephone number: Dorian Wilson, DEA. The last time Malik had been arrested he’d cut a deal with the Feds in exchange for a lighter sentence. They apparently were going to do an even bigger favor for him by putting him back on the streets, as their informant.
Now, Malik was gone. Priya’s first instinct after receiving the e-mail had been to contact Agent Wilson to tell him what was going on. It was like her e-mail stalker could see into her mind because another message had come through with the simple words: Tell anyone and he dies right now. So she hadn’t told. But she’d had Lolo trying to trace that damned IP address each time a new message surfaced.
Still, she had nothing, on either end, and she was getting damned frustrated by that fact.
“Hello,” a female voice sounded and Priya nearly jumped off the sofa. Instead her movement knocked her purse onto the floor and as she scrambled to retrieve it she noticed a really great pair of red shoes. Instantly switching to her wannabe-fashionista mode, Priya sat back on the couch and looked at the complete package. Around five-foot-three- or four-inches tall in the flat red patent leather shoes, skinny jeans, and a paisley-print silk tunic. Hair and eyes that said hey-look-at-me and a smile that said I’m-not-really-this-outgoing, quite an amazing contradiction, Priya thought to herself.
“I’m sorry if I frightened you,” the female said in a gentle voice that only added to Priya’s assessment.
Standing finally, Priya extended her hand. “No, it’s no problem. Just daydreaming, I guess. I’m Priya Drake and you are…?”
She accepted Priya’s hand in a quick shake. “I’m Jewel. I work here at Perryville. I was told to bring you breakfast.”
“Oh. Well. Thank you,” Priya said for lack of another suitable comment. She was thinking this was one fancy outfit for staff when Jewel moved to a tray she’d obviously brought in with her.
As Priya followed her across the room she thought she’d have to work on being much more observant if she expected to find information. This woman had come into the room with a tray of food and Priya hadn’t heard a sound.
“I didn’t know what you like so I told them to give you a variety.” She talked while removing the chrome domes from plate after plate.
Priya wasn’t a picky eater by any stretch of the imagination; blame that on living in a household where you ate whatever was provided, never really developing a palate for anything special, because there was rarely ever anything special.
She reached over, grabbing a slice of bacon and taking a bite. “So you work here?”
“Yes,” Jewel replied.
“How long have you worked here?”
“About three years.”
“And you’re allowed to come and go in the owner’s suite as you please?”
Jewel’s head tilted a bit, her green eyes surveying Priya. She folded her hands in front of her and took a slow breath. “I’m Jacques’s assistant. Jacques works very closely with Mr. Perry. So if Mr. Perry asks me to do something, I do it.”
Did everyone do what Mr. Perry asked? Priya wondered.
“Really?”
“Yes. Really. You should have no worries that there is something personal between Mr. Perry and I. I’m just an employee.”
Priya laughed at that, a sound that obviously shocked Jewel. “Oh honey, you’re the one who doesn’t have to worry. There’s nothing personal between Bas and myself. I’m just here…” Priya
paused, catching herself as she figured it probably wasn’t a good idea to tell everyone who she was and why she was really here.
“We’re just acquaintances,” she finished.
“Oh,” Jewel said with a nod. “Right.”
The woman didn’t believe her but Priya didn’t really care. She was still trying to figure out if Jewel could help her.
“Actually, I just met him a few days ago. I don’t really know that much about him,” she began, grabbing an English muffin and buttering it as she talked.
“Would you like to sit down?” Jewel asked.
Priya shook her head, dropping the knife and taking a bite. When she finished chewing she continued. “Does he bring a lot of women here?” The question came out even though that wasn’t what she really wanted to know. Okay, she sort of did want to know that, but only in the sense that maybe the type of woman he preferred would lead her to the type of man, or animal, he really was.
“I haven’t seen any,” was Jewel’s reply.
“That’s strange.”
Jewel looked confused. “Why do you say that?”
Priya shrugged. “I just figure a real important man like Bas, with all the security he travels with and all these high-tech gadgets in this place, that he must be a hot commodity.”
Jewel waited a beat before replying this time. “He’s a wealthy man, if that’s what you mean. And he has a lot of people working for him.”
And I’m not about to tell you any more, was what Jewel hadn’t said with words but conveyed quite successfully by looking away from Priya.
Luckily, that action hadn’t deterred Priya at all. “Perryville Resorts are renowned all over the world. He seems to have found his niche,” she began. “Funny, I would have never pegged him for a politician, though.”
Jewel blinked before shaking her head. “I don’t think Mr. Perry is into politics.”
“Well, his friend Roman Reynolds is,” Priya replied easily. “I saw them at a fund-raiser for the president in D.C. a couple of days ago. Good to know where their support lies.”
“Mr. Reynolds is a nice man, as well,” was her stilted reply.
“So you’ve met Reynolds. How about Delgado and Markland? Do they all come here a lot?”
The woman paused. Her hands dropped from in front of her and she traced a finger along the rim of the cart that stood between them. It was an absentminded sort of gesture that at the same time should have told Priya a lot about who she was talking to.
“I don’t know them,” Jewel answered eventually.
Yet her beautifully arched eyebrows had lifted at the mention of their names. Priya finished the English muffin and sipped from the glass of orange juice, all the while watching the pretty woman standing across from her, the one who wasn’t saying as much as Priya figured she could. There was definitely something going on with her, something deeper than the red of her shoes and hair, but Priya wasn’t here to psychoanalyze this woman. She wasn’t a part of her story. This quiet, jittery woman did not possess the same confidence as Bas and his friends so Priya didn’t think she was one of them. Still, she wasn’t dismissing that she could be helpful—at least Priya was fairly sure of that fact.
“So what do you do for fun around here, Jewel? I’m not sure when I’ll be leaving so I guess I should enjoy myself while I’m here.” And you would be just the one to show me around, Priya thought. This woman worked for the man who worked closely with Bas, most likely one of those goons he’d been with last night. What better way to find out what was really going on than to spend some time with her? In the next moment Priya knew that wasn’t meant to be.
* * *
“I’ll be in charge of your entertainment during your stay.”
Priya didn’t even bother to turn at the sound of his voice. She knew who it was and what she would find if she did, so she simply stood still. Jewel, on the other hand, tensed immediately.
“I was just finishing here, Mr. Perry,” she told him, moving hurriedly to get away from Priya and as close to the door as she could.
“It was nice meeting you,” she yelled to Jewel, receiving no reply.
“Well,” she said, finally turning to face him. “I see I’m not the only female in your harem.”
The words were easy enough to say, but looking at him was much more difficult. She couldn’t help thinking that this story might come a lot easier if he weren’t so damned good-looking.
Bas took a couple of steps, closing the gap between them in slow, confident strides. Everything about him breathed assurance and masculinity. To say that he was too damned fine for his own good somehow seemed like an understatement. As a matter of fact, all of them were too damned fine, Reynolds, Delgado, and Markland. She was beginning to think that couldn’t just be a coincidence.
“We’ll start with a tour of the resort and some of the local sights, and then we’ll have dinner at La Selva,” he told her without wavering.
“And then I’ll be locked in this room again,” she added to his self-made agenda.
He took a seat in one of the leather chairs, crossing an ankle over his knee. The gaze he gave her was one of patience, of kindness to what might have been the mentally ill and Priya bristled instantly.
“I am not kidnapping you, nor am I keeping you under lock and key. You are free to roam about as you will. In fact, I encourage you to take full advantage of the resort’s amenities. We’re especially proud of our spa and its holistic Native American treatments.”
He sounded like a commercial, a very smooth and cleverly rehearsed one.
“Look, why don’t I make this easier for both of us,” she said, sitting on the couch across from him. “We can tour your resort and your sights and then we’ll have dinner. At which time I’ll ask my questions and you’ll give me straight answers. Then I can pack my bags and get out of your hair. You’ll be free to do…” she hesitated, “whatever it is you do around here without me snooping around.”
With his arms outstretched on the sides of the chair, Bas asked, “What makes you think I haven’t given you straight answers already?”
“Because I can sense when someone’s not being completely honest with me. I think you know something about what I saw but for whatever reason you don’t want to tell me.”
His expression never changed. “Did it ever occur to you that when people don’t give you the answers you want, it’s for a reason? Mainly, because they don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Priya immediately shook her head, not at all appreciating his smooth rebuff. “No. That never occurred to me.”
He actually smiled at her reply. It was a slow spread of his lips that put a light in his eyes and sent a punch of lust through her gut.
“I’ll get my purse and we can get this tour underway,” she said, standing up and hurrying to put as much distance between them as possible.
Chapter 13
Phoenix, AZ
“They never showed up,” Black told Palermo. “And I went back to the site this morning. The tunnel’s completely cleaned out.”
“So they stole the rest of our shipment?” Palermo leaned his tall, lanky body against the side of the hotel they’d spent the night at in Phoenix. They’d been scheduled to leave Arizona today and head back to Albuquerque where a house had already been purchased to store their stash. That was thanks to Sabar’s master plan to rule the world. Seems more than one person and/or shifter could have the same plan but execute it in an entirely different manner. Palermo had come into the scenario in the later stages and through channels that nobody, not even Darel, knew about. So his agenda was his own, and he planned to keep it that way. As long as everyone did the things he needed them to do.
He’d hated the fact that he and Black had to bail on the drop last night before everything was done, but he’d lifted the scent of shadows and didn’t want to battle with the other shifter while making such a sensitive exchange. That, Palermo now realized, had been a colossal mistake.
The three h
umans that had been hired by one of Darel’s contacts to help them get set up were now mysteriously missing. And with them was a total of a quarter of a million dollars’ worth of drugs and guns that were to be used to set up their dealers and get the money rolling in. And the special packages that only Palermo knew were going to be included in the shipment. Those were the ones that worried him the most at the moment.
“I’m not so sure it was their plan to take the goods and run,” Black offered.
Palermo wasn’t so sure of that. Still, he doubted the dumbass humans had a clue as to what had been in those other two crates or how important they were to some very powerful people.
Frowning, he looked at the shifter that he’d had no choice but to bring along on this part of the mission. They were supposed to keep a low profile while they were here. The people that Palermo was working with did not want to be identified or connected in any way to what he was doing. Unfortunately, Black wasn’t one for being discreet. His physical attributes almost made that completely impossible, with his larger-than-normal frame, and all-black clothes covering just about every inch of his skin even in the hot Southwestern climate. The locals had been staring each time Black had walked through the hotel lobby, no doubt taking in every detail of this stranger in town.
“What do you mean? My shit’s gone and so are those ladrões!” Palermo exclaimed, trying like hell not to lose his temper even though somebody obviously thought he could be played for a fool.
Black shook his head, his thick neck looking as if it were trapped inside the material of the shirt collar wrapped tightly at his throat.
“When I was in the tunnel I picked up a scent. Shadows,” the big shifter stated simply.
He hadn’t needed the other shifter to tell him what he already knew. Still, Palermo cursed long and fluently at that point. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed quickly.