Shifter's Claim (The Shadow Shifters)

by A. C. Arthur

  “But that’s not what’s worrying you, is it?” he asked, knowing that on the other end of the line Nivea was probably running her fingers through her shoulder-length hair in exasperation.

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she said with a quick sigh. “So what’s up with you? What do you need?”

  He could probe a little more and maybe she would tell him what was really bothering her. Or he could relax, be patient, and expect a call from her when she was ready to confide, as she always did.

  “I just sent you some e-mails and a printout of text messages. I need you to follow up and see what you can find. The human’s name is Malik Drake, he’s thirty-five years old, African American, two hundred and thirty-seven pounds, last seen at the Sullivan-Minster Rehabilitation Center. Send me whatever information you come up with immediately.”

  “Drake? Does this have something to do with that reporter? I heard about what happened at the hotel. She’s still on this story, isn’t she?” Nivea asked.

  Bas turned in his chair, staring out the window to the mountains once more, wondering just how much he should tell Nivea. She lived at Havenway with Rome and Kalina. She saw the Assembly Leader on a daily basis, had meetings with him to discuss the status of her own assignments. How could he trust her with what he was doing here when he knew Rome’s position on the matter? Because Nivea was like his sister, how could he not?

  “He’s her brother,” he said after a few seconds of silence. “She’s tracking the story to save his life. I need you to find out where he is.”

  “Wait a minute, I’m scrolling through the e-mail and attachments now,” Nivea said, then paused. “How do you know all this?”

  “She told me,” he stated simply. “Priya Drake told me that someone’s been e-mailing her, forcing her to follow this story. They want her to expose us, even gave her a time limit that I do not see the significance of. If she doesn’t do what they say, they’ll kill her brother.”

  “And you want to be the white knight to come in and save the day. Again. I swear the press would have a field day if they knew how chivalrous and romantic you really are.”

  Bas shook his head. “I don’t give a damn about the press or what they think of me.”

  “I know. I know. But the world should know what a great guy you are, what a loyal and devoted friend and protector you can be.”

  “It wouldn’t matter. In the end they would still see me as a threat. I’d still be a Shadow Shifter.” Today, for Bas, that was a bitter pill to swallow.

  “Wait a minute, what’s his name doing here?”

  “Whose name?” he asked, the serious switch in her tone causing him to sit straight up in his chair.

  “Dorian Wilson,” she told him. “Page three of the text messages. He’s an FBI agent. The one Rome has me tailing night and day.”

  Turning back to his desk, Bas flipped through the printed pages, found the one Nivea was referencing and frowned. “This text is to her friend Lolo, he works at the paper and he knows about the threats to Priya.”

  “But how does she know Wilson? And why is she telling this Lolo person to send the e-mails to him?”

  Bas contemplated her question. “Her brother’s had some run-ins with the law over the years, maybe that’s the connection.”

  “Maybe,” she said contemplatively. “I’ll get started on this right away. I’ll call you when I get something.”

  “Call me on my cell the minute you find something,” he instructed. “And Nivea, let’s just keep this between us.”

  “You didn’t have to tell me that, Bas. We’re family, this is what we do. Now, sit tight, I’ll call you later.”

  Disconnecting the call with a slight smile on his face, Bas replayed her words—they were family and they did stick together. Priya was dedicated to her family the same way, if not with a closer connection. For that, he couldn’t blame her for searching so hard for this story. He couldn’t blame her, but at the same time, he couldn’t let her print a word of what she knew.

  * * *

  “She’s staying in his private suite. First time I’ve seen that since I’ve been here.”

  Palermo nodded as he listened to the voice on the other end of the phone.

  “The bunker is the most protected part of the whole resort, so attacking through that route is like suicide. I tried to tell Black and Sye that the other night but they didn’t listen. Perry and his sidekick keep that place wrapped so tight and guarded so heavily it’s like walking right into the line of fire.”

  “So I’ll walk in the front door,” Palermo stated unflinchingly.

  “Just like you’ve got a reservation, which by the way you do. I made it this morning after your text. You can check-in by three tomorrow afternoon. Your room’s on the floor just below Perry’s. All you have to do after that is wait for him to come out and bam, you’ve got him!”

  The bloodthirsty excitement coming from the other line may have been infectious to others, but to Palermo it was foolish and a sign of the untrained. Never underestimate an enemy is what he’d been taught. Never assume victory was another. So many things had been drilled into his head in his years growing up in the West African town of Etinosa. Words about fighting and claiming what was rightfully theirs, along with strategies to eventually turn the shadows’ weak-minded and idealistic goals into dust, were all Palermo heard growing up. And all he’d ever felt was pain and disgrace.

  Now was his chance to break free of those bindings, to involve himself in something bigger and better, to finally tell Boden Estevez to go to hell where his dark, perverted soul belonged.

  * * *

  Paolo Melo had been with Bas and the blue team for going on three years now. He’d come straight from training with his father who had been one of Cole’s lead guards. He was twenty-five years old with a thick build, a quick laugh, and murder in his eyes. His father had been concerned about his son’s temper and thought after an unsuccessful stint in college and a run-in with the law that it was time his son did something different. He’d trained well, was a natural-born fighter, but had a lot of growing up to do.

  There was an edginess to the young cat that Bas recognized from the years immediately following his parents’ divorce. He’d wanted nothing more than to inflict some kind of pain, anything that would resemble what he was going through, on someone else. That urge had led him to the jungle, to that night when he’d frozen completely. It was also that urge and that night that sobered Bas and made him into the shifter and leader he was today. He wanted desperately to believe that Paolo only needed to get to that same point in his life.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t so sure the shifter was going about it in the right way.

  Jacques opened the door the moment a light knock sounded. He’d already called for Paolo to meet with them so they could discuss what had happened last night. Now the two watched as the young shifter walked into the room. He wore gray sweatpants and a hoodie, white tennis shoes, and a slight frown—he looked like someone out of a rap video or a college dorm. What he did not look like was a soldier being called to his superiors.

  “You wanted to see me,” he said to Bas after he’d taken a seat in one of the guest chairs across from Bas’s desk.

  They were in Bas’s offices about an hour and a half after his conversation with Nivea. Jacques took a seat in the remaining guest chair, looking to Bas to see which one of them would answer the youngster.

  With all that had happened with the intruders, the threat confessed by the one they’d captured, and of course, the fact that he’d revealed himself and what he really was to Priya, Bas was in no mood for chitchat or to tiptoe around what had become a big issue among their team. So he spoke first. “You were given a direct order last night and you disobeyed it.”

  Paolo sucked his teeth like an insolent child. “I had the shot,” he continued to claim.

  “And yet the rogue got away,” Jacques added.

  Paolo shot the guard a seething look and sat back in his ch
air. He lifted his arms, letting them drop back to his lap. “What do you want me to say?”

  “I want you to stop walking around here acting like we owe you something,” Bas told the talented shifter.

  Sitting up in his chair, he let his elbows fall to the desk as he continued to hold Paolo’s gaze. “Your father is a great guard. You want to know why? Because he knows how to listen, how to watch and wait and learn. He’s not a hothead trying to make a name for himself in the field at the cost of either hurting someone else or, as last night proves, letting a rogue get away and get even closer to our property.”

  “We got him in the end,” was Paolo’s retort. “And I’m not my father.”

  Bas could definitely relate to that comment. He’d been compared to his father after he’d opened Perryville Bali and made it onto Forbes’s Top Earning Entrepreneurs list. There had even been a number of his father’s colleagues calling to offer their own investments in his resorts, which Bas respectfully declined.

  “No. You’re not,” Bas told him tightly. “But what you are and what you will keep in mind the next time Jacques or I or any officer of higher rank than you in the Assembly gives you orders, is that you are a guard. You are here to protect and to serve and the moment you feel like you can no longer do that job, I will personally direct you to the door. Last night was the last bit of insubordination you will show while you are in our employ. Do I make myself clear?”

  There was a moment of silence in which Bas thought he might actually have to relieve the shifter of his duties. That was a phone call he did not want to make to Paolo’s father, but he would if it became necessary.

  Paolo gave a half shrug, stopped only when Jacques made a noise like he was clearing his throat, then sat up straighter in the chair. “I got you,” he murmured.

  Bas raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

  “I understand, sir,” Paolo said in a clearer, louder voice.

  Seconds later he was dismissed and Jacques and Bas sat alone in the office. Bas’s temples throbbed as he sat back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his chin.

  “The package went out as you requested,” Jacques was saying before there was another knock on the door.

  Bas frowned. “It’s like Grand Central Station in here today. Come in,” he bellowed, not really expecting who would walk in and what cheery news they would have for him this afternoon.

  Chapter 23

  “I doubt very seriously he has to check with you before he makes a move,” Ezra said the moment Bas shot him a chilly glare. That remark was met with a growl from both Bas and his sidekick, Jacques. Normally Ezra’s reply would have been a big fuck you to both the shifters as he clearly planned to go through with the job he’d been assigned, no matter how much they got their panties in a wad. But Bas was a Faction Leader, he was the commander of the Mountain Zone, and thus deserved Ezra’s respect as a Lead Guard. In other words, the two were not on equal terms, no matter that they both stood up to piss, put their pants on one leg at a time, and shifted into the same form of killer jaguar.

  “Look, that new e-mail was some cryptic type of threat. We need to neutralize it as soon as possible. Your teams are stretched here trying to deal with the invasion of that savior drug and now the weapons that are attached to them. We’re on the same side and I’m just here to do a job,” Ezra said to both men as they sat in Bas’s office.

  “I just received a copy of this e-mail message about fifteen minutes before you showed up,” Bas began, rubbing a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “Last I spoke with Rome I was going to work on finding out what was going on at Comastaz, and he was going to continue his work with the president.”

  Ezra nodded. “Then this came and I guess the priorities shifted a bit. Look, you can see how bad this looks. I’m just going to go in and see what I can find out from the inside.”

  “You don’t know a thing about that lab or what they do. How does he suppose we just get you on the inside?” Jacques asked.

  Bas nodded. “Precisely. Besides that, I already have Dana looking into Comastaz. He found out there was blood being transported in those crates. We’re tracking where it went before it arrived in those tunnels.”

  Ezra rested his elbows on the arms of the chair. “X is creating a resume and references for me. I’ve got an interview scheduled for tomorrow morning. I’ll be in by the end of the week, out by next week with all the intel we need. In the meantime, Dana can continue to see what he can come up with on his end. We’re all in this together, remember?”

  Yes, Bas remembered, but he was almost positive that none of the other shifters in this room, or anyone else in the Assembly was going through what he was right now. A fact that only proved they were not all in this together. “Then what?” Bas inquired, feeling as if he wanted to explode from all the new developments in his life these past weeks.

  “Then we proceed however is necessary. Somebody out there knows something,” Ezra told him, holding the Shifter’s gaze solidly. “And what they know can adversely affect us. So we don’t have time for a pissing match, we have to get in and find out what’s going on before they come after us with whatever it is they know.”

  Refusing to show the turmoil that raged inside of him, the FL took a deep breath, rubbed his hand across his chin again as he sat back in his chair. “You’re right,” Bas finally conceded. “I’m not arguing that. It’s just a matter of respect and common courtesy. But that’s not your issue. Jacques will get you situated in a room to work out of here, but you should probably get a hotel room outside of Perryville as well. Comastaz is run by the government so they’re liable to do some background checking. I don’t think it’s going to look good if you’re staying here.”

  Ezra nodded. “You’re probably right.”

  “What do you think this message means?” Jacques asked after rising to collect the paper as it slipped from the printer on command from Bas’s computer.

  “I think it’s about exposure,” Ezra said immediately. “Everything now seems to be pointing at exposing the fact that shifters are here.”

  Jacques cursed and Bas looked back at his computer. It wasn’t a subject any of them wanted to discuss so he understood the instant silence.

  “Sabar didn’t give a damn about humans finding out about us. In fact, I think the bastard instigated most of his attacks for the sole purpose of letting the humans know we were here,” Ezra added.

  “Then why not simply show them himself?” Bas asked. “At any point in time Sabar could have gone to the press or anyone within the government and shown them who and what we are. Why didn’t he?”

  “We don’t have any reason to believe that wasn’t his ultimate goal, I mean, before he was blown to pieces. The bank robbery, the fight on the street that night with rogue cats already shifted. He no doubt wanted to let them know we were here and that they should be very afraid.”

  “But we’re not here to hurt them, never have been,” Bas continued. “Fear in the humans will only spawn another war and soon we’ll be fighting humans and rogues. It’s going to be a fucking mess!”

  “I concur,” Ezra said. “A mess that we all would like to prevent if at all possible. That means we need to keep the humans from finding out we exist.”

  “Or we can simply kill the bastard rogues that put us in this position in the first place,” Bas suggested.

  Ezra smiled slowly. “I’m game for doing both.”

  Jacques balled up the paper, tossing it into the trash can as he moved to the door. “Then let’s get this shit done,” the shifter stated without an ounce of remorse or hesitation in his tone.

  * * *

  Priya’s cell phone vibrated again as she walked down the hallway toward a room that had taken her most of the afternoon to find. She knew exactly who it was and what they wanted, but she wasn’t ready to respond. Lolo had apparently wasted no time in contacting Agent Wilson to deliver the e-mails to him and Agent Wilson had wasted no time contacting her. He wanted her to send any information on
Reynolds and the cat people she had ASAP, then he wanted her to board the first flight she could to get back to D.C. In his words, he couldn’t “protect her from all the way across the US.” She didn’t know why not since he was the FBI, but then again, Priya wasn’t so sure she needed more protecting at this stage of the game.

  Things had changed drastically since she’d sent that text to Lolo and if she’d known how they would change she might not have told Lolo to contact Agent Wilson at all. Last night she’d been desperate and ready to put an end to Malik’s suffering, no matter what the cost. Today, she knew that cat people, or Shadow Shifters as they were called, did truly exist and from what she could tell from Bas’s still cryptic words, they walked the earth right alongside the humans. Only the humans had no clue. It was a huge discovery, a story that would no doubt land her in the national headlines. Her career would be set, her brother would be released alive, her mother could go right back to the life she’d been content to live with her son by her side.

  But what about Bas and his people? What would happen to them if she released that story?

  All she’d had to do was push SEND, she thought as she continued down the hall, ignoring the cell phone completely.

  The story was written, or at least the first of what she figured might lead to a long line of revealing stories about the Shadow Shifters. She could touch on what they were doing here, how long they’d been here, and discuss the secrecy. How many more were there, where did they all live, there were so many angles this story could take. She’d make a ton of money, most of which would go to her overdue student loans and finding another rehab center for Malik. For a long time she’d wanted to buy her mother a house, to get her out of the run-down and drug-infested neighborhood she was in. Maybe she’d be able to do that sooner, rather than later, with her newfound fame.

  Bas had more homes than he needed, four top-rated resorts with hundreds of rooms in each. He had cars and lavish penthouse suites all decked out with technological gadgets like he was the next James Bond. He had thousand-dollar watches and suits and let’s not forget the ties. He had everything and controlled everything around him.