Jameson (Darkness #9)

by K. F. Breene

  “I’m going to go in closer,” he whispered. “How do you feel?”

  She rubbed her neck against his hip.

  “Is that alarm, or okay?” he asked, preventing himself from reaching down and petting her like a dog.

  She padded ahead, answering the question.

  “Wait,” he said, holding up his hand. She kept going until she was against the main building and looking back, keeping to the shadow. He motioned toward the darkened building he was standing against. “Let me make sure this is clear.”

  She continued to stare. Working with shifters was trying, at best.

  He took out his sword and walked to the door, a tiny building that might be used for a bedroom, or a bungalow. He turned the handle. A soft click announced that it was locked. He could break in, but that would cause a racket. Chances were, if someone was in there, they were sleeping.

  A moment later he was beside Addison again, motioning toward the rear of the main building. With each window he looked in and found shades to obscure his view. At the back were three SUVs, all black Range Rovers. One had the license plate Jameson had written down. Next to those were two mundane cars, both worn in, probably belonging to middle-class or lesser workers.

  “The company cars are quality, so the company has money, but the workers aren’t seeing any of it. Then again, it’s the middle of the night. The high-dollar employees could be at home.”

  Addison stared.

  Thinning his lips, he peered around the corner and found a camera perched above the back door, which had an electronic entry. Light shone down the way. He had no idea if those were offices or not.

  “Let’s check around the front before we decide if we are breaking in.” He met her golden eyes. “Do you feel any different? I know the shifters that were caught at that lab smelled something and then felt drunk.”

  She huffed.

  “Huff again for yes, you feel fine.”

  She huffed. Then growled.

  “I’ll take that last as a comment to our mode of communication.” He went back to the front, checking the technology and not seeing anything even mildly eyebrow-raising. Finally, taking a last notice of the desolate setup, he straightened. “There is no way this is the same crowd. It’s rinky-dinky. I’ll pay them a visit.”

  He felt the hard bite of teeth in his calf. Addison yanked on him, trying to drag him away.

  “They don’t have something to contain me,” he said, shaking her off. “I’ve dealt with humans all my life. Trust me.”

  Fire raged in her eyes, he could see it. Could see her bristle and her hair stand up on end. He knew, without having to hear it, that she wanted the fight. She wanted to be the one storming in and claiming vengeance. She wasn’t stupid, though, and didn’t push the issue. He respected that about her.

  Filling himself with magic, he felt the shadows cling to his body as he moved toward the front door. He knew his tattoos swirled the deep orange of his magic, engaging the runes that helped him stay hidden even in broad daylight. The light showered him, and the camera’s black eye trained on his body. Even for that, the human eye would likely slip past him.

  He tried the double doors. They jiggled, locked. Thankfully they weren’t glass. It was so much more satisfying when he could kick in wooden doors.

  Stepping back, feeling the prickle of danger from Addison’s gaze tracking him from the corner of the building, he kicked with all his weight. Wood screamed. The doors cracked. One bowed inward before crashing to the ground. The other wobbled in the frame.

  He stalked into the faintly lit entryway smelling slightly of mildew. Not business hours, obviously, yet people were in the building. The small room off to the side, which was fashioned after a poor man’s waiting room, lay dark. On the other side was a bathroom. He continued on past the reception desk as someone peeked from around the corner up ahead.

  “Hello?” a man called in a quivering voice.

  Jameson didn’t change his speed, the man not noticing him though he was out in clear view. A desk sat off to one side, with a second waiting area to the other, housing a nicer couch, table, and even a plant. Two magazines lay on the table surface, one askew.

  “Hello?” the man called again, stepping out.

  Jameson reached him a moment after the human finally spotted him. The human’s eyes went wide, then even bigger as Jameson’s large hand wrapped around his throat.

  “Who else is here?” Jameson asked.

  The man gargled.

  Jameson dropped him, stepping forward to maintain his intimidating presence, before bending down closer to his face. “Who else is here?”

  “Wh-what are you?” the man asked through a tight throat.

  “Who else is here?” Jameson repeated.

  The man stuck up a shaking hand, pointing off to the left.

  Jameson bent and grabbed the man by the hair, yanking him up roughly. When humans were scared, they spilled their secrets more easily. He forced the man down the hall. “Where?”

  “J-just in there. What d-do you want? We don’t have any money.”

  The mildew smell was back, teamed with a faint odor of stale piss. A light flickered as they made their way through the dirty hall until the man pointed again to a room on the left.

  Jameson pushed him at it. “Open the door.”

  “Do you have a gun?” the man asked, huddling in front of the door.

  “No. I have a sword. Open the door.”

  “A s-sword?” The man’s gaze sought Jameson’s middle.

  Jameson increased his draw of magic. “Open. The. Door.”

  Starting, the man turned and did as instructed, pushing into a well-lit room housing gleaming metal. A darker man at the back wearing a white lab coat glanced up from a table. He caught sight of his coworker and his brow creased. “What’s up?”

  The man’s shaking finger drifted back toward Jameson, who was taking a moment looking over the items in the lab. Large, somewhat corroded cells lined the walls, déjà vu from the lab in the hills, only these were run-down and in bad shape. A bench with stirrups attached to the end was pushed over to the corner, not in use, probably, but a dead giveaway that they planned to do gynecological exams in the future. Exam tables with dirty surfaces, or various lab kits with dust, all mismatched, implied this was all getting underway.

  “What?” The lab tech’s gaze drifted past Jameson.

  “You looking for me?” Jameson asked in a rough voice, stalking forward. He hooked his hand under a table and ripped it away. Items flew off it and smashed against the wall.

  “No shit,” the lab tech said, finally seeing Jameson. A smile curved his lips. “No shit! First shifters, and now vampires. I do not fucking believe it. How do you guys keep it all under wraps?”

  Jameson grabbed the underside of another table and flung it, sending it careening across the floor. More lab supplies smashed against the far wall. “What is this place?”

  The tech moved quickly, for a human. He snatched a gun hidden beneath a table and pointed it at Jameson. “I don’t scare easily.”

  “Good. Sniveling annoys me. What is this place?”

  “What do you think?” The man smiled and gestured around him. “Do you know how much money the government will pay for an army of shifters? We tried to get into the contract back in the day, but were beat out. That company went up in a ball of flame.” The man extracted another gun and handed it off to his shaking coworker. “People think I’m crazy for believing shifters exist. That, or they think I’m crazy for trying to get in the game after what happened to the other place. But I got a backer. And I got firearms. How crazy am I, really?”

  “You’re not crazy.” Jameson flipped another table, disgusted with those cells. Disgusted that the last lab was almost the death of him. “You’re just stupid.”

  The man smiled brighter. “And you’re about to be dead.”

  The gun went off, but Jameson was already moving. He banged into a table as the tech realized he’d missed, an
d altered his aim. Another gunshot, from the shaking man, his aim wild. The tech sighted and shot. Jameson had already veered. In another three steps he was there, snatching the man up by his neck and giving a hard jerk. A snap rang out through the room. Jameson dropped the lifeless body and focused in on the other man, easier to intimidate.

  “Who else is working with you?” he asked, stalking closer.

  The man held the gun at chest level with both hands. The end waved wildly.

  “You shoot that, and I’ll kill you. Who else are you working with?”

  “We have a guy from the government that gave us grant money. Just one contact. He believes there is something to the shifter thing, but doesn’t want his name on it. That’s it, I swear.”

  “C’mon.” Jameson dashed in. The man pulled the trigger, but his shot went wide. Jameson slapped the gun out of his hand and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. “Let’s go.”

  The man whimpered as Jameson navigated him through the room, eyeing the various chemicals and other items he passed. Once in the hallway, he backtracked and then kept on. “Where’s your office?”

  Barely able to walk now as his body shut down from fear, the man led Jameson to a large room set up like a king. Leather couch against the wall, leather chair, two huge monitors, a sleek laptop—this man had spared no expense on his setup.

  “You guys are both stupid. You spent the money on the wrong things.” Jameson shoved the man at his chair. “I want the information of your contact, and I want a list of your employees.”

  “But—”

  “Now!”

  As the man got to work, looking in a file, Jameson belatedly felt a presence fill the door. He spun around, half expecting to find Addison. Instead, a sniper rifle with a laser sight was aimed at him, the red dot covering his heart. Before Jameson could even react, the knuckles turned white as the finger curled around the trigger.

  He didn’t have the time. His negligence would kill him.

  The gun went off. He flinched. The man fell toward as another man screamed. Jameson fell backward as something hard struck his chest. He hit off the desk and tumbled to the ground, his heart ramming against his ribs.

  A ferocious snarl preceded another scream.

  Jameson patted his chest and brought his hand away, looking for red. For blood. His hand was dry.

  He hopped up, ready to grapple, but slowed. Addison tore the throat out of the man, who still smelled floral. He gurgled his death before she threw her head up and roared. The windows shook, and Jameson’s bones vibrated, his cock stiffening. Panting hard, he watched the great predator as she roared again, raw and wild, staking her claim as the most dominant in the room. Suddenly he knew exactly why Charles was always so keyed up when Anne took to animal form. The magic, the natural brutality, and equally as natural grace were a rush.

  Coming back to his senses, he glanced at his feet to where the rifle lay. Touching his chest again, he realized that the end had hit him when the man fell. Jameson had no pain, though. The bullet had missed. Addison had saved his life.

  Turning, he realized why the shaky man had screamed. The bullet had struck him, and he was now draped across his keyboard.

  “That solves that problem,” Jameson muttered, pulling him out of the seat and shoving the chair away. He went through the records, found the information he was looking for, then got to work downloading everything else. When done, he motioned Addison out of the room. “I have to burn this place to the ground. You best head out of here.”

  A low growl sounded from her throat as her gaze tracked him, intense and daunting. She backed up into the doorway, but didn’t go any further.

  He stared down at her. “I have all the info. I’ll make your pack a copy. You can ask Tim about our trustworthiness in these issues. We catalog the information, though. We can’t have people knowing about you, just as you can’t have people knowing about me. Move, please, you are wasting time.”

  Still she held her ground, staring. Waiting.

  Suddenly it dawned on him as to what she wanted. He sighed and looked at the dead gunman. Meeting her eyes, he said, “You saved my life. Thank you.”

  Chapter Six

  Addison waited by Jameson’s SUV in animal form, not able to change back until he gave her clothes back. He was putting a few things he’d taken from the office into the back, and going over everything he’d recovered. The man was more organized than even she was. She liked that about him.

  Clothes weren’t the only reason she didn’t want to change back, of course. He’d put himself in jeopardy for her and her people. He’d taken the lead in a dangerous situation that really shouldn’t have concerned him, proving that, despite his hang-ups, he really was a good guy. He didn’t hate shifters, as he might think—he hated the part they had played in his past. She could understand that.

  Hell, she’d hated bear shifters for the part one played in her past, but she’d gotten over it. She hoped Jameson would, too. Because the man was crazy hot. Watching him work, feeling the magic roll off him, seeing his graceful sort of power—oh, man. As soon as she changed back into a warm-blooded female, things would be a little uncomfortable downstairs. He might be picky in the girlfriend department, but Addison really hoped he was like his people, and didn’t mind a little pump and grind among friends. She wanted him in a way that wasn’t natural.

  “We’re good. Let’s get on the road before I trigger the bomb.” Jameson headed toward his side of the car. She gave him a roar, as deep and throaty as she could. She’d seen his face in the office. His excitement. She bet her magic called to him like his did to hers. They weren’t the same, but their magic originated from the same place at the beginning of time. That commonality felt good. Felt explosive.

  Oh man, she wanted him so bad. It would be a fairly awkward ride home, what with her hands wanting to roam.

  “I don’t know what that roar— Oh, clothes. I apologize.” Jameson shook his head, his brow furrowed again and his eyes downcast. He pulled out her garments and hesitated. “Possibly their position was a bad idea. I didn’t expect to have so much exertion. Possibly you should stay in animal—”

  She changed, the draw sapping her energy in a major way. As the pain washed away, cold greeted her, her teeth chattering immediately. She stepped toward him to take her clothing, but her foot caught, making her stagger.

  “Here we go.” He steadied her, in close, his smell wrapping around her deliciously. “Let’s get you covered up.”

  With his help, she threaded her hands into her sleeves and bunched the fabric close to her chest, shivering. The material was moist from his sweat, and while that should’ve been really gross, all she could do was breathe in his scent. It calmed her and turned her on at the same time. She wanted to be wrapped in it before tussling on the bed and accepting him inside of her.

  “Addison?” His tone, so smooth and even, would lend perfectly to singing. “We need to get pants on you.”

  She held on to his shoulders and lifted a foot, not nearly this helpless, but going with it for all she was worth. He bent to the other side, his face gliding by hers. When he came back up, he surveyed her middle, where the shirt had draped open. She didn’t feel the cold with their bodies heating the air between them.

  His gaze reached hers before roaming over her cheeks, her nose, and then settling on her mouth. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  She didn’t know who started it, if she was leading or eagerly following, but suddenly his lips were on hers, so hot they singed. He didn’t nibble, and he wasn’t playful and relaxed. He devoured her, hungry and needy. His tongue plunged into her mouth, twisting with hers before he backed off and sucked on her bottom lip. Her toes curled and her eyes fluttered; she was so turned on her body was aflame. Her breath came fast and her desire boiled as she roamed her hands over his delicious muscles before swooping low to cup a massive cock.

  She moaned, thinking of what that would feel like pumping inside of her. Knowing that if he was th
is good with his mouth, he would be even better with his body.

  Hands on his cheeks now, she kissed him for all she was worth. Large hands cupped her butt and pulled her in tighter, pushing a knee between hers so they each had a leg between their thighs. She moved against him as he did her, the feeling so exquisite, something warm and soft unfurling deep in her middle.

  Time slipped away, lost as she was in the kiss. The world lightened around them, dawn encroaching on their deeds. Panicked that they’d have to stop, she reached down between them to his pants. A yank and his button fly gaped open. She reached down to capture the prize, but felt two restraining hands on her arms.

  “We’ve stayed too long, Addison. We must go.”

  Breathing hard and with lips tingling from his kisses, she let his cool logic tame her wild desire. She didn’t back away yet, though. Instead, she removed her hands and clung on to him for a moment, feeling his solid body against hers, and his sweet breath dusting her cheek.

  Finally, when her heart was slowing and her core was still throbbing, she took a step back and blinked into the quickly lightening day. “You don’t turn to dust in the sun, then?”

  He was studying her with his fly open and a giant erection tenting his boxers. Her lady bits pounded harder, and she felt a little faint. It was clear she had absolutely no blood in her brain. Hearing her words, he unleashed a full smile, something that also unleashed the full potential of his handsomeness. The man was stunning. So fucking handsome it should be illegal.

  She staggered, still not right after four changes in so short a time.

  “Here.” He rushed forward and secured her buttons before shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over her. “It’s cold.”

  “Sorry, I’m tired. Let’s get out of here.”

  Jameson gave a last look at the buildings crouching in the distance before grabbing something off the hood and climbing into the driver’s side. He turned the car around and stepped on it.