by Ciara Graves
“Don’t you have an interview to conduct?” I asked.
Bowen moved up right behind me.
Rafael’s whole body tensed, and a low rumble started in his chest, but he wasn’t looking at me. He eyed Bowen like he wanted to rip his head off. “I heard everything I needed to, for now,” he replied, still not looking at me.
“Glad I could help you with your case again.” I started to walk away.
Rafael moved to stop me.
Bowen hissed in warning, and Rafael growled as I rolled my eyes, shoving them away from each other.
“Seriously? What’s wrong with you two?”
“Nothing,” they snapped at the same time.
“Right. Well, I have shit to do so if you don’t mind?” I went to move again.
Rafael continued to block me.
“What?”
He finally returned his gaze to me. To say his eyes smoldered would be an understatement, but that was the only word I could think to describe the confused and heated gaze staring back at me. As if he remembered that night in the hallway, too.
“What happened to your face? Those bruises are recent.”
“Really? I didn’t know. Thanks for that observation,” I mocked.
“Mercy, come on.”
I shrugged. “Got into a fight. It happens. Ad for the record, I did not start it.”
Bowen huffed.
I tilted my head. “Kind of. Just not my best night.”
He looked like he wanted to ask more about it, but instead, he ran a hand through his hair and shook it out around his horns.
Why did he have to look like a sexy, brooding demon? Damn, he was distracting.
He cleared his throat. “I know you helped me out with the Liam case, and we said we would leave it at that, but we’re both here on official business. I don’t even have to ask to know you have contacts here that I don’t, and I might have information you don’t.”
“You want me to work with you?”
“If you’re able. I know the last two weeks have been hard on you.”
“Do you, now?” I muttered and shot Bowen an accusing look which he dutifully ignored. “If you were so worried about me, you could’ve stopped by. I would’ve shown you how great I’ve been. Really, it’s been like a vacation without the spa treatments.”
“Mercy,” he started.
I threw my hand up, cutting him off. “Don’t. It’s fine. We agreed to work together and nothing more.”
I almost walked away, but he had a point. I might be the bounty hunter that Colton and Rubella requested to find the murderer, but I wasn’t a Fed. He had more sway in certain areas than I did. If I wanted to catch this bastard and stop a war, my best bet would be to work with him again. This time, there’d be no ending up at his apartment.
“Won’t your boss mind if he sees you working with me?”
“What? No, he won’t even know,” he said in a rush.
“Yeah? And what about your partner? Sure she’s tagging along, finding ways to get her ass in trouble again.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you have a legal right to be here. Just as we do,” he told me. “The Feds won’t touch you. You have my word.”
“Don’t,” Bowen whispered in my ear.
I knew Rafael heard it when his eyes narrowed.
“Guess we’ll be seeing more of each other, then,” I said.
Bowen sighed with a curse.
I pretended I didn’t hear him. “Meet me at the café in town tomorrow evening. We’ll talk shop.”
“Have you spoken to all the alphas yet?” Rafael asked.
“Maybe I have. Maybe I haven’t. You can find out tomorrow.”
“If I’d known you were that bad off,” he said quietly, “I would’ve called or stopped by.”
“Why? Not like we’re friends or anything,” I reminded him, wondering why my gut twisted when I said the word anything.
“See you tomorrow.” I walked away quickly this time, not trusting myself to stay as collected as I had thus far.
Had I wanted him to stop by? Hell, yes. And at the same time, hell, no.
Rafael was complicated and so was I. Throwing us together was a bad idea. That and he was a Fed. Having him in my life more than absolutely necessary was asking for trouble I did not need. When he’d called me that one time, I’d been so willing to hear his voice, even if it was only to say hey. And now I was face to face with him, and I was torn between decking him and hugging him, so I could get lost in his warmth again. God, I was a hopeless sap, sometimes.
“How you holding up?” Bowen asked after we left Rubella’s, taking the side road that would lead us away from the main drive to out of the way spot where we parked my bike.
“Good. That tonic of Gigi’s is working well today.”
“At least this visit didn’t turn into a fight.”
I climbed on the bike and he got on behind me.
“Colton was asking for it this morning,” I told him as I pulled on my helmet.
“And his beta?”
“He’s a sneaky little bastard,” I muttered. “And he’s hiding something. They both are.”
“You’re not here to delve into the secrets of the packs. Remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. I remember the rules. Thanks very much.”
Before Damian and Bowen agreed to let me leave my apartment and come here, I had to swear I wouldn’t start any fights. And that if a fight did occur, I was not to engage unless there was no other choice.
Bowen was here to help me with the case and be my bodyguard. Mostly the latter. Plus, I had to swear I would take Gigi’s tonic every morning and drink the tea at night.
The dreamweavers were currently on my nightstand waiting for me to go to sleep in what would be my room for the next week or longer.
The café I mentioned to Rafael was right below it.
The Feds were holed up down the road in another hotel. That we made certain of, before making our reservation. If I didn’t abide by these rules, Bowen was to drag my kicking and screaming ass back to Sector 21. Seeing as how I’d come here to stop a war, I was going to behave for once and not jeopardize my chance to catch the asshole who started this mess.
Once back at the inn, we returned to my room, so we could go over what we knew so far, order dinner, and call Damian with an update. That was another added bit to the deal. I had to call Damian every single day to let him know I was alive and had not keeled over in a ditch somewhere because I’d pushed myself too hard. To be honest, this morning when I awoke I almost told them both I had to wait another day or so. But I couldn’t, because I’d already wasted too much time planning and over-planning for every possible situation. The tonic Gigi gave me was the only reason I hadn’t fallen over from exhaustion. Not that Bowen or Damian had to know.
“What have you found out?” Damian asked, picking up after the first ring.
“Were you waiting by the phone?” I asked, putting him on speaker.
“Mercy,” he scolded, and I could so easily picture the annoyed frown on his face, “you want me to pull the plug on this now?”
“Alright, fine, just ruin my only fun today.”
“Don’t let her lie to you,” Bowen said, suddenly appearing on the couch beside me. “She had quite a bit of fun today.”
I glowered at him as I whispered, “Traitor.”
“What did you do? You’re not supposed to be starting any fights,” Damian snapped.
“There was no fight,” I corrected. “Almost. Maybe. Possibly. But I restrained from punching the little pup. Not like these alphas trust me to begin with. You do realize they had every single guard on the premises watching me the whole time? Don’t they know how bad it would be for business if I were to kill my clients?”
“Bowen? Did you get anything today or not?” Damian asked, apparently done dealing with me.
“We did. We had no time to speak with Jenella, but from what Colton said, he believes there was something going on between Rubell
a and her.”
“Like what?” Damian asked.
Bowen raised his brow to me.
“Oh, did you want me to talk now or am I still in time-out?”
“Why are you acting crabbier than usual?” Damian demanded. “Something happen I don’t know about?”
“Nothing,” I said.
At the same time, Bowen offered, “The Fed showed up.”
“Is he going to be a problem?”
“No,” I talked over Bowen, “but I have a feeling we might be working together again.”
“And is that a good idea?”
I shrugged, but since Damian couldn’t see that, I promised nothing bad would happen. “Colton mentioned he and Jaxton had been getting along splendidly and he had no issues with the Silver Howler pack. However, he noticed, of late, how Jenella and Rubella were not getting along.”
“Did he have any information why?”
“No, but after talking to Rubella… Well, I’m pretty sure it had to do with Jaxton.” I removed one of my new shiny silver daggers from my boot—a gift from Damian—and picked at the dirt under my nails. “Care to tell me why she hates your guts?”
“Who?”
“Rubella. She was not too pleased when I brought up the fact that she and Colton called you,” I said.
Bowen nudged me.
I gave him a look. “Right. Sorry. That it was Colton’s idea to call you.”
“Only Colton’s?” he mused.
“Yeah, already thinking that, too so don’t get distracted. Spill it. What did you do here?”
“Some years back, I may or may not have been involved in a bar fight between myself, Colton, Rubella, several other werewolves. Not to mention, a few drunk demons. At some point during said fight, the bar we were in… well, it—uh… let’s just say, it’s not exactly there anymore,” he finished quietly. “Rubella owned the joint at the time, and she blamed it all on me.”
“Was it your fault?” I asked.
“That, I can’t say for certain, because I don’t remember. Now, can we get back to the case at hand, please? You think Rubella was involved in Jaxton’s death?”
“Hard to tell from what I saw of her reactions.” I grinned as I pictured Damian, drunk and in a brawl, after all the times he yelled at me for starting fights. “I don’t think she wants me poking around. She’s not the only one with secrets. Colton’s up to something.”
“I’m listening.”
“He up and disappeared about two weeks ago. He told no one where he was going or that he was even leaving to begin with,” I relayed. “Not sure if it has anything to do with the murder, but figured that would be something to keep you busy. To help you stop you from pacing the floor and glaring out the window every five seconds.”
“I’m not,” he started to say, then stopped, snarled something that sounded like curses, then cleared his throat loudly. “I’ll check into it. Colton has been known to visit the black market in the Underground, now and again.”
“What’s he buying?” I asked.
“Not what he’s buying,” Damian said quietly. “What he’s selling. Trust me, you don’t want to know. Anything else? What about this Fed?”
“She’s meeting him tomorrow,” Bowen answered for me.
“Fine, but you better not give him anything unless he gives you something first.”
I rolled my eyes. “Really? You’re acting like this is my first case.” I picked up the cell, taking him off speaker, and stalked out onto the balcony despite the cold. “Can you stop treating me like I’m going to suddenly fall apart? I’m fine. I swear, I am.”
“And you expect me to trust you?”
“Yes. Since I’m not the one keeping secrets.” I held my breath, but I should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Fair point. Call me tomorrow after you meet with the Fed and I’ll see what I can find out about Colton’s latest visit,” Damian promised. “Watch your back with Rubella. She might not seem tough, but that wolf can pack a wallop.”
“You would know, eh?” I teased.
He ignored my comment. “You make sure you drink that tea tonight and the tonic again in the morning.”
Leaning on the wrought iron railing of the balcony, I nodded, watching the storm clouds move in closer as snow fell softly to the ground. “I will.”
He muttered a bye and hung up.
I shoved my cell back in my pocket and was content watching the snow fall. Flakes dotted the black sleeves of my jacket, each one different, lingering in the cold. A heaviness fell over my shoulders as the snow picked up, covering my hair.
I shut my eyes as distant screams echoed in my mind. Mom. She was yelling for me to run again. The cold air turned frigid, and I was gasping as if I couldn’t get enough to fill my lungs. My teeth chattered, then I found myself lifted off my feet, and set back down inside as the doors closed and locked behind me.
“Do you have a death wish?” Bowen hissed as he brushed the snow from me, helped me out of my jacket, and wrapped a blanket around me to warm me up. “That was a question. Mercy?”
“It’s just snow,” I said, plopping down on the couch. “I was fine.”
“You were out there for two hours.”
I blinked.
“You didn’t even realize it, did you?”
“Sure I did,” I lied.
His lips thinned.
Two hours. No wonder my hands were numb. Along with my toes and half my face. Takeout sat on the small dinette table. As did a large bottle of blood. He’d gone and gotten our food, and I hadn’t even realized he left.
“Why don’t you lie down?”
“No, I’m good.”
“I will call Damian right now. He’ll tell me to drag your ass home. Get some sleep.”
The normal me would’ve argued with him and kicked him out of my room, but the notion that I’d been out there for two hours in what had turned into a full-fledged snowstorm worried me. Was the curse doing this to me or a new sinister force messing with my head?
All I recalled was hearing Mom screaming over and over again, as if my nightmare was no longer content being just that—a nightmare. The cold I assumed came from the storm seeped into my bones as my thoughts darkened. I curled up on the couch, keeping the blanket secure around myself, and shut my eyes.
Glass clinked, and I opened my eyes again.
Bowen pointed to a mug of freshly brewed tea.
“Drink this first.”
I did it without argument, and that seemed to upset him. The soft blue glow from the dreamweavers caught my eye. He’d moved them to the end table for me.
Wisps of webbing drifted from the top of the jar to the bottom, beautiful and mysterious.
I hunkered back down, the bitter taste of the tea not even noticeable over the sharp tang of fear building in me that the werewolf murderer was the least of my worries.
Chapter 8
Rafael
The morning after coming face-to-face with Mercy, I found myself pacing around my hotel room, waiting for evening to fall. Seeing her had stirred up several different emotions that I’d yelled at myself over later. Like anger that she was with Bowen yet again. And that despite her standing upright, there were bags under her eyes and she’d been pale, so pale her scar looked fresh. The shiner she said she got from a fight stood out terribly, along with a few other minor bruises. Telling the werewolf guards they had nothing to worry about from her yesterday probably would’ve fallen on deaf ears, but really, with the shape she was in, there was no way could she hold her own in a fight right now.
So why the hell had she risked her life coming over here? I was annoyed at her for that, too and added that emotion to the list of other unruly ones creeping in.
Iris hadn’t seen Mercy yet, but it was only a matter of time. She was walking around Sector 18 with her face in full view. If Iris didn’t mention her to Nor, another agent would, and then I’d be torn between stopping them from arresting her and taking her in myself to see if
she had anything else to do with Liam she hadn’t told me about.
She might say she was personally called by the alphas to find the murderer, but that could also be a lie. Jenella told us the scent she tracked was male. If Bowen was suddenly Mercy’s new partner, could he have done it for her? Or what about the other demon I saw in her apartment? There were too many questions left unanswered, both, regarding her and this case.
Why had Rubella sounded so hesitant to have Colton call Damian about Mercy in the first place? He seemed to want the killer caught. As for Rubella, she was covering up her true connection to Jaxton. With Colton’s disappearance brought up, my suspicions were thrown back on him. That he was up to something. Both, him and his beta. He could’ve left to make plans to get rid of Jaxton, made sure he was back in time before the murder occurred. Henry was the wolf I wanted to speak with alone. He was fidgety and hadn’t seemed to care for me too much… or—
I stopped my pacing and hurried next door to Iris’s room, banged on her door and waited.
“Rafael? Something wrong?” she asked, rubbing at her eyes and holding coffee in her hand.
“No, but I would like to request the use of your siren magic.”
She frowned, then stepped aside to let me in. “I thought you said no magic while we’re here. Might piss off the packs and all that. Plus, and I’d really like not to be torn to shreds.”
“But your power does work on werewolves, yes?”
“Yes,” she replied slowly. “What’s this about?”
“I told you what Rubella told me,” I reminded, her.
Yesterday, I’d gone back to Iris claiming I’d spoken to the last alpha and she told me about Colton’s abrupt travel plans as well as the way she spoke about Jaxton. She flat-out admitted she loved the werewolf. Whether it was because he was her mentor for so long, or if those emotions ran deeper, we would have to wait and see.
What mattered now—what I needed—was Iris to speak with Henry. All alone.
“You did… you want to set me on Colton, alone?” she asked, alarmed.
“What? No. I want to set you on his beta, alone,” I corrected. “He’s young and impressionable. I sense he is not too keen on whatever his alpha is up to. We need answers here. You and I both know it.”