Act of Blood (An FBI/Romance Thriller ~ Book 16)

by Kelley, Morgan

  Here in Adams Morgan, they fit in. there were so many ethnicities here, that it was hard not to belong.

  He really liked it.

  If they didn’t have to have a secure compound because of Ethan’s job, he would have liked living here. Well, minus the no playgrounds for their brood. Their hellions needed a lot of space to run wild. You could take the half-Native off the Rez, but you couldn’t take the Rez out of the half-Native.

  That would be nearly impossible. Besides, if history repeated itself, it was probably best for any children with the Whitefox-Blackhawk DNA to be as far from potential trouble as possible.

  Better safe than sorry.

  At this time of the morning, it was so darn peaceful at the café. People were just waking up and beginning their morning routines before work. There wasn’t the rush, hustle, or bustle of DC as of yet, so he could sit back, have coffee, and wait for the woman building his book empire to arrive.

  That made him laugh out loud.

  Callen couldn’t help it.

  The absurdity of that thought wasn’t lost on him.

  Just a year ago, he was a plain old boring man, and now he had a secret life. Not only was he a Fed by day, but he was also a bestselling author by night.

  Jackson James had been born.

  Out of his desire to bring income to his family in case his FBI career was over, he’d stumbled onto something that he still couldn’t believe.

  People loved his books.

  It was mind-boggling.

  His second novel was about to release, and already, the money was rolling in from the presales.

  It was sick.

  It was wild.

  It was enough to blow his mind.

  As a poor Native growing up, anything with that many digits on it could only mean one thing—it was likely going to be your prison number. That Callen wasn’t holding it on a sign in front of him in a photograph, but instead it was in his checking account was insane.

  Who would have seen this one coming?

  It started one day when his grandfather needed to keep him busy. Who knew that a book about a red dog, which he created with a pencil, red crayon, and some spare time, would set him off on this adventure one day?

  He was a writer.

  HOLY SHIT!

  Now it was beyond amusing that not only was he making a living, but he was able to pay for everything he’d ever wanted in life. He didn’t have to think about the cost, if he had bills to pay, or if he really needed it. Callen’s only regret was Timothy, his grandfather, wasn’t alive to see this. He would have bought the man anything he ever wanted as repayment.

  He’d done a damn good job as a parent.

  Speaking of which…

  Maybe he was out of control but his kids were spoiled, his woman had pretty things, and his bank account was flush.

  Still, he wouldn’t give up his job as a civil servant, working for the FBI.

  Why?

  One reason.

  Elizabeth Blackhawk.

  She was one hell of a partner, and the idea that he could work with the woman who rocked his world made it even better than all the money in his account. She kept him thinking, entertained, and hornier than hell.

  Who could beat that?

  She was the biggest windfall in his life.

  There was no way he was going to give that up. The mother of his three children was the center of his world, and while he loved being a writer, he loved being with her twenty-four-seven even more.

  EJ, Cat, and Christopher Anthony were everything to him, and along with their mother, his life was complete.

  Only his cup runneth way over.

  Callen had been doubly blessed.

  He also had his brother to love, and Ethan’s two kids—CJ, his namesake, and Charlie, his wife’s little clone. They had one hell of a brood, and it was beyond perfect.

  In fact, he wished he were at home with them at that moment. If he didn’t need to sign some contracts with the publicist and literary agent, he’d be making them breakfast. There was nothing like feeding time at the Whitefox-Blackhawk zoo.

  The kids were wild, his father was laughing, and their housekeeper was amused at the chaos.

  It was a beautiful thing.

  Still, Callen having to take care of the writing business and skipping the morning ritual was a small sacrifice to ensure their futures were secure. Because of the new book release, and its crazy wild success, each of their five children had a free ride to any university their hearts desired.

  They didn’t need student loans.

  They didn’t need to scrimp and save.

  There would be no Ramen as their only way to survive while they worked three jobs like he had.

  No, they had it easier, and that was what a parent was supposed to do. His books had ensured that, and Callen loved every second of it.

  He’d given them what he could only dream of as a child.

  They had security.

  They had education.

  They had a shot at a decent future.

  When he was done with this part of his life, he was heading to the Hoover building to meet up with his wife to be briefed on their standby partner, Olivia Rothschild.

  She was back from requalification, and they were getting ready for Gabe to hand them another case. In their division, you never knew what was going to drop into your lap. Their last huge case was in New Orleans, and since then, it had been little cases, helping out the small police stations on the east coast.

  Honestly, they were boring as hell.

  Callen could tell that if they didn’t get something good, and soon, Elizabeth was going to go stir crazy. She needed to be challenged in life or she was sucked into the crazy. From the outside, she looked free-spirited, all that wild black hair, vivid blue eyes, and propensity for practical jokes, but beneath it all, she was very different. Her OCD and need for continual mental stimulation kept her at the top of her game.

  She had a brood of kids, not only because she loved having baby birds in the nest, but because without a full plate, she was bored.

  Working was the only way to keep her from losing her damn mind, and they now realized it. The more that was dumped onto her shoulders, the better she was. Elizabeth was a type A workaholic, and she was giving Ethan Blackhawk, the new Deputy Director of the FBI, a run for his money.

  For Callen, it was fun to watch.

  He knew that they were all hoping the next case would be local, but exciting. It was time to dig in, work as a team, and find some crazies.

  Why local?

  Well, that was all about the baby birds.

  Fall was here, and they wanted to spend some time with their kids. Halloween was coming, and the last couple of holidays, they were away working on some case. It was time to have a little family time thrown into the mix.

  This one was important to Elizabeth.

  She wanted to dress her babies up and score some loot. By loot, she meant sugar. She was going to take her children out for candy patrol.

  It was going to be amusing.

  The logistics on this alone was going to be chaotic. It wouldn’t just be them heading out.

  No.

  Callen could picture them taking the kids, plus having a tail to boot. Where Ethan Blackhawk went, his security detail was sure to follow.

  Much to Elizabeth’s horror.

  When she’d gone shopping to find a new dress, Ivan, or as she liked to call him—Igor—had to check the dressing rooms first. He didn’t even wait for the women inside to leave. He stormed the place, peeking beneath doors to ensure her safety.

  It drove her insane.

  It went against everything she was accustomed to as a Fed and badass Elizabeth Blackhawk. It made her really dislike the man—well, his job.

  She hated feeling helpless, but this was the burden they each had to bear now that Ethan was second only to Gabriel Rothschild. Being married to someone with that much power meant you had to make adjustments. Their lives had c
ome full circle, bringing them back to DC. It’s where Elizabeth and Ethan had first begun their careers, and now they were back to finish them up.

  No one doubted that Ethan would one day run the kingdom. When Gabe retired in the next couple of years, he would be handed the keys and they would really have to adjust.

  This was the big time for Ethan Blackhawk. Nothing was the same as it once was. He’d gone from being the top profiler for the FBI to a power player.

  He was a prisoner too.

  He couldn’t go out on as many cases.

  He had to have security when he left the house.

  And his wife was irritated that she was being babysat as if she was in danger all of a sudden. They knew the truth—that was the norm in her life. If someone was going to get hurt, it was likely her.

  Still...

  They all had to make accommodations to this new position for the man they loved.

  Yeah, a pissed off Elizabeth was never a good bet, but she was trying to keep her cool.

  They all were.

  Callen was the lucky one. As of yet, he was the only one who didn’t need a babysitter. He wasn’t technically a spouse. Since he wasn’t allowed legally to tie the knot with his brother and Elizabeth, he didn’t have a tail.

  It was nice.

  He found her frustration sexy this morning when he walked out the door alone and she had some suit clad protection monkey riding her tail.

  Yeah, she’d kick his ass later, and he could only hope he’d enjoy it too. The idea of her climbing all over him made his day. Callen really only had a few things in life he really cherished.

  His kids.

  His family.

  His badge.

  His woman.

  The rest was frosting on a very awesome cake. As long as he had those things in his life, he was set.

  Why be greedy?

  As he sat there in his suit, ready to head into work after his meeting, he saw his agent and her team heading his way. It looked like this was going to be one heck of a hardcore meeting. She was bringing her whole office staff.

  It had better be fast.

  After all, he had a day job.

  When he stood, his agent and promoter, Leslie Jefferson, gave him a hug in greeting.

  “Thank you for doing this early,” Callen stated, waiting for the rest of the woman’s team to sit.

  “You’re welcome, Callen. It’s my pleasure. We want to get these papers filed so you can start working on your next book.”

  He sat.

  At her words, he was a tad bit nervous. For the last few days, he was wondering if he should push on and do a third book.

  What if it sucked?

  What if lightening didn’t strike a third time?

  He’d had this conversation with Leslie and her staff before. He was worried his writing was a fluke. What if he couldn’t come up with a new premise?

  This was a dream, and he was certain he’d be waking up from it at any time.

  “You remember Logan Hutchinson. He’s my assistant, and this is Jewel Lamont. She’s new to the team. She’s going to be your personal liaison to our office. If you need something handled, she’ll be the one who does it.”

  He recalled meeting Logan a few times. He was always happy and smiling. The man was pretty much on top of his game. Callen simply had to ask for something, and Logan would have it there before the words were even out of his mouth.

  Logan was good at his job.

  “You don’t have to go to any trouble, Leslie. I’m really laid back. I’m more nervous about coming up with another book idea.”

  She patted his hand reassuringly. “You’ll do it, Callen. Your first two books were amazing,” she stated. “The second we read them, we knew we had to represent you.”

  He was glad.

  If she didn’t pick his book out of the mountain she received every week, his life would be different, his kids wouldn’t be set for life, and he’d be a slave to the Federal government.

  “You have this, Mr. Whitefox,” Logan stated. “We know you do.”

  He hoped they were right.

  Before they could continue, he focused on the new woman on Leslie’s team. She reminded him of some artsy college kid who majored in drama, music, or art. She was decorated in colors and all smiles.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, waving the waitress over to get them all a coffee. When they’d ordered, he lowered his voice. “I’m low key, Jewel. I can pretty much handle my own issues.”

  She smiled. “Mr. Whitefox, it’s a pleasure to be your personal assistant,” Jewel stated. “I love your books. Leslie let me read the new one, and it’s going to blow up. If you need anything, including your dry cleaning picked up, I’ll handle it.”

  That was really weird for him. Callen wasn’t accustomed to this kind of thing. “That’s okay, Jewel. We have a housekeeper. She handles it all. As for the next book, I hope it does blow up. It was one hell of a case. My wife and I get the interesting ones.”

  Leslie wanted to lock him in for a couple more books. It was time to get down to business, and why they were there.

  Leslie pulled out the papers. “Your contract is for two more books, both to be released next year. I put in your requirements, and once you sign, it’ll go over to the publisher for them to look over it.”

  He scanned the paper. His requirements were definitely there.

  The most important one?

  Callen didn’t want his identity out there for the world to scrutinize. His family came first, and their safety was paramount. The only reason he was going to do two more books was because Leslie had gone out on a limb for him, and he wanted to prove that he could do it.

  This was about keeping his winning streak going. What he was going to write about was anybody’s game. Callen was sure he’d come up with something.

  Scanning further down the paperwork, he checked the amount he was requesting for his payout for the books. It made him laugh as he signed the paper.

  It was a sick, sick number.

  “Is everything okay?” Logan asked. “We can change it if it’s not,” he offered. “I can type it up fast and drop it off at the FBI building for you.”

  “I’m just laughing at the money. Everything is just fine. Really.”

  “We can up it,” Leslie offered. “The publisher really wants your books. Our firm will get the standard twenty percent, but the rest is yours. We can pad it a little more if you feel the need. You’re a commodity now, Callen. You can get the mega bucks if you ask for them.”

  Hell!

  Even when he paid his taxes, and fifty percent was gone, the money was ridiculous. He couldn’t believe that many people were going to read his books.

  It was crazy.

  Callen felt the need to celebrate.

  In fact, before he headed to work, he was going to pick up something for his wife.

  Yes, it had just been their anniversary, but he wanted to give her something to show how much he cherished her. While Elizabeth hated when he showered her with gifts, he wanted to commemorate this moment.

  And every other one that came up over their life together. It was his way of showing her how much he loved her.

  “No, this is fine,” Callen stated. “No upping the money. I don’t need it.”

  It was true.

  He had happiness.

  “What’s your next book going to be about?” Jewel asked out of curiosity as he continued signing off on all of the papers.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. I’m thinking I might do something new. I’ve had some ideas.”

  “You’re not going to use your cases?” Leslie asked. “I love reading about them. It’s like getting a sneak peek behind the FBI’s closed doors.”

  He laughed. “I didn’t say that. I’m just not quite sure yet. I have some time to think about it.”

  Callen signed the last paper.

  It was official.

  He now had to turn in two more
books. That freaked him right out.

  “Are we good? Can I go?”

  Leslie laughed. “Wow! I’ve never seen a man so happy to escape me before,” she teased. “Here I am throwing money at you too. Talk about dinging up a girl’s ego!”

  He grinned.

  While Leslie was a stunning woman, no one compared to his Lyzee. She was the center of his world. “You know me, Leslie. I’m a married man and a creature of habit. I have to get to the day job. There are crazies out there.”

  She shook his hand. “Yes, Callen, you are, and that’s a damn good thing. Tell your wife she’s a lucky woman, and keep our city safe. I like being able to walk the streets.”

  Oh, he was the lucky one—that was for sure. Elizabeth had to put up with the Blackhawk men, and they were a damn handful. Toss into that mix that they had five kids, and the chaos of running an FBI division, and she deserved a medal for sainthood.

  He was tired just thinking about it.

  Callen threw down some money and shook everyone’s hand, before he headed to his truck. He had a stop to make, and then he was going to meet his babe for a hello kiss.

  His partner was waiting.

  And he wanted to start their weekend off right.

  With something pretty for his gorgeous wife.

  * * * B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x * * *

  Washington Metro

  Police Department

  Friday Morning

  Boone arrived at work and the chaos was out of control. A couple days prior, he’d been handed a case where a local guy had been murdered in his own yard.

  Someone had knocked him out, wrapped a chain around his throat, and then tossed him into his pool to drown. What he didn’t get was who swam this time of the year anyway?

  It was brisk outside.

  Was the man swimming or was the killer playing a game?

  Boone wasn’t quite sure.

  Either way, the mess just got deeper. If one unsolved murder wasn’t enough, he had just been handed another. It seemed that he and his partner were on the way to a crime scene to figure out who had killed another rich resident of DC.

  From what Detective Sima Nelson had told him, the rich got offed a lot in the capitol. Apparently, this was the norm. Boone was beginning to believe the only reason that happened was in order to live in DC, you had to be pretty damn wealthy. He knew how much Merry had paid for her brownstone, and that would have bought five houses where he was from.