by A. C. Arthur
“No. You didn’t, not this time,” Rome agreed.
Eli’s jaw clenched.
“I’m not here to blame you, Eli. Things are happening around us that none of us are able to control right now. But you are trained for this,” Rome continued. “You are a leader and you know the consequences.”
He stood up straight, squaring his shoulders and holding the Assembly Leader’s gaze. “You are correct.”
“There’s a press conference scheduled for tomorrow morning. You’re going to make a statement about the violence in your barbershop.”
“Why? Rimas is going to tell the cops tonight that I beat the crap out of him. They’re going to arrest me. Giving a press conference is admitting my guilt before the entire city.”
Nick stepped forward then, his face grim, cat’s eyes bared. “You were defending your shop against an intruder. Rimas had a knife, he held it to your neck for at least five minutes before Nivea came in. Then he stabbed her. You have witnesses so the self-defense is clear,” he told Eli.
“Just like it was clear when I killed Lonzo,” he replied.
“Don’t do that, man,” X said, moving around Rome to stand near Eli. “Don’t make this more personal than it is. That man came after you with the intent to kill you. The reason doesn’t matter. You did what you had to do to stay alive. Nobody is going to penalize you for that.”
“Unless I’m one of the cat people,” Eli added, then shook his head. “Look, I hear what you’re saying. I’ll do the press conference and whatever else I can to make this go away so we can focus on the important matters. You don’t have to worry about me.”
All three men looked at him skeptically and Eli felt like growling with rage. He hated their concerned and wary glances, the looks that said they thought he was completely losing it. And the feeling inside that they might actually be right. Clenching his fists at his sides, he turned away, moving to the nightstand, and looking down at the empty table. No clock, no pictures, nothing but the lamp that had been here when he moved in. His clothes hung in the closet and rested in the drawers but that was the extent of his belongings in this space. There was nothing else and had never been. Eli felt like this on the inside as well. He was a jaguar and a human, and at one point in his life he’d required something extra—the shaman’s healing potion. That was all that he was, nothing else.
“I’ll do the press conference and whatever is necessary to minimize the attention to the shifters,” he stated again. “I should have reacted differently.”
“No, he shouldn’t have,” Nivea said, coming out of the bathroom wearing one of his button-down shirts.
When he turned to see her he realized all she had were her pants and they were lying on the floor on the other side of the bed. The shirt she’d worn in here, he’d tossed into the trash can. For a mere flicker of an instant he was struck by how naturally beautiful she looked with her hair hanging down to her shoulders, her feet bare, and his shirt nearly reaching her knees. Something, other than his cat and the dark he was so used to being inside him, shifted with the sight of her. Irritation won over the unknown and Eli frowned.
“He was trying to diffuse the situation. He let that lunatic hold a knife to his throat for who knows how long before I came, in an attempt to protect our secret. The man meant to kill him, I saw it plain as day in his eyes. He would have tried to kill us both,” she told Rome and the others adamantly.
The room grew silent after her outburst and Eli, not really knowing why, had moved closer to her while she spoke. Now he stood right beside her, his body slightly in front of hers.
“You’re right.” X spoke up first. “He wanted to kill Eli and he would have tried his damnedest to kill you both. I know you reacted the only way you could,” X said, looking at Eli. “But now the situation is more precarious than it was before. We’re dealing with exposure from so many outlets at this point.”
“Including from you,” Nick said, his gaze aimed directly at Nivea.
“I’m no threat to the Shadows,” she told him vehemently. Her body had lurched forward slightly and Eli had extended his arm to block her from moving any farther, and also ready to prevent anyone from striking out at her.
“I’ve trained for years to defend us and our secret. I don’t care what you think you know, I’m no traitor,” she finished confidently.
Eli believed her. In that moment he knew what she’d said was the absolute truth. While he had no idea what was going on with her parents and their apparent connection to Comastaz, he knew without any doubt that Nivea was not involved.
“She’s telling the truth,” he told them. “She doesn’t know what her parents are up to.”
Nick frowned. Rome folded his arms over his chest, his hand lifting to rub along his bearded chin.
“Whether that’s true or not, you should know we’re keeping a close eye on them,” he told Nivea.
“That’s not my concern,” she replied coolly.
“Your issue to deal with,” he told her. “Right now, one of my issues is that you were injured today, pretty badly from what Ary told me. So you’re on security monitor duty for the next week, until that shoulder is completely healed. Eli will do the press conference and continue to try to find out what the hell went down at that cabin and where Agent Wilson ran off to. The Sanchez brothers are also on hand to help with tracking Crowe.”
Eli heard her intake of breath over Rome’s orders and knew she was about to go off.
“We’ve already had that discussion,” he interjected. “She knows she will not be going out into the field until I say she’s cleared.”
“What the hell? Are you all crazy? I’m fine!” Nivea yelled. “You know how quickly we heal. I’ll be ready to go out tomorrow. Why are you doing this to me?”
“Enough!” Rome yelled, raising his voice for the first time since coming into this room. “One week in the security monitoring room. And you, press conference at ten tomorrow morning. Tonight, both of you need to get some rest.”
The Assembly Leader turned and walked out of the room before another word could be spoken. Nick followed right behind him without looking back, while X gave Eli what was as compassionate a look as the big man could offer.
“You’re an idiot!” She rounded on him the moment they were alone. “Why didn’t you tell them that I’m okay? That I can go out tomorrow?”
“Because you’re not and you can’t,” he said somberly. “Look, I know that you’re feeling okay. I don’t like not being able to go back out tonight either. But I understand their reasoning. We’re too pumped up right now, the cats are too close to the surface, ready to pounce. We need to lay low for a minute.”
“Your minute consists of one day while mine is a week. How is that fair, Eli?”
“It’s fair because you’re the one who had a stab wound that went so deep that bastard nicked your bone!” he yelled at her. “You lost a crap-load of blood and … and…” He couldn’t finish because the memory was too clear, the pain searing through his body at the sight flicking through his mind once more. It was too much to bear.
“Look, just hang around Havenway and do what he says for the week. I’ll be following up on some things with the Sanchez brothers and I may need your eyes and ears here,” he told her, suddenly exhausted from the events of the day, from this unnamed emotion rippling through his veins like an infusion.
“I’m a guard. I fight for these shifters every damned day,” was her solemn retort.
Eli looked at her then, stared right into her light brown eyes and felt like her gaze was reaching deep inside of him, pulling something out he’d long since buried. “You’re a damned good guard and you do fight for the shifters every day. I’ll be first to vouch for you. But part of being a good fighter is knowing when to sit and wait.”
When she didn’t respond Eli took a deep breath, letting it out in a whoosh and dragging his hands down his face. “I’m going to grab a shower,” he said, turning away from her and heading to the bathroo
m door. He had no idea why he stopped and couldn’t really bring himself to turn around, but before going inside he said, “I don’t know if I can protect you if you go back to your room. If you need me in the middle of the night … I just don’t know,” he admitted, his voice so quiet he didn’t even think she’d heard him.
“Ask me to stay, Eli,” she replied.
He gritted his teeth then, his cat scratching at his insides as if eager for his human mouth to let the words slip free. He didn’t know how to ask, what to say, how to do this male-and-female dance with her. All Eli knew for certain was that when he came out of the bathroom, he wanted to see her sitting on his bed. When he lay down to go to sleep, he wanted to feel her beside him. And when he awoke in the morning, he wanted to roll over and see her there.
“Stay,” he finally replied, not waiting for an answer but going into the bathroom and closing the door quietly behind him.
CHAPTER 11
“This is where the signal stops,” Brayden said, coming up to the bushes at the backside of the estate they were looking for in Prince George’s County.
“Do you know who lives here?” Aidan asked, walking around his brother, flattening his hands on the brick structure and leaning forward to look into the window. “Lights are on in this hallway but I didn’t see any cars in the driveway.”
Caleb stood back from the others, tilting his head upward to look at the second floor of the structure. “No lights on upstairs. Probably some type of alarm system though. We’d have to disarm it before going in. Either that or get in and out in about ten minutes before the alarm company can dispatch the police.”
Eli stood farthest from the brothers, looking around the entire space. To his right was a thick line of trees about forty feet away, lush grass all around. To the left was the same scenario. Directly in front of them were patio doors, the windows Aidan had looked through, heading to the left side of the house. Above was a deck that wrapped around the right side. Behind them, an in-ground pool, more grassy acreage, and a thicker line of trees, tall and full for privacy. The driveway was in the front, going to the dead end part of the block, where they had parked and walked down. This was a pretty secluded neighborhood, high-end, but not gated. Dumbasses.
“We’ll take our chances,” Eli told the group. “Let’s go in.”
He knew exactly whose house this was as he walked closer to the patio door where Caleb had already begun picking the lock. In seconds they were in and sure enough, the shrill buzzing of an alarm went off. The shifters moved with stealth, not speaking but using hand signals to split up and head in different directions.
Eli took the main level, heading up the basement stairs and moving through the expansive space on quiet feet and using his nocturnal vision. There was an office and he immediately slipped inside, heading straight to the desk and the computer. Running his hands along the sides he searched for flash drives. He wanted all of them. There weren’t any, but when he opened the first drawer he smiled as a clear box with four flash drives inside came into view. He ditched the box and stuffed the drives into his pockets, not worried about leaving any fingerprints, since Shadows didn’t have them.
When he was satisfied the desk was clear and knew that their time was winding down, Eli was just moving around to the front of the desk when something caught his eye. He grabbed the piece of paper quickly and ran out of the room. Aidan had been coming from the upstairs, giving Eli a thumbs-down signal as they passed in the foyer and then headed back down the basement stairs.
Brayden was coming from the garage and joined them on the descent. Caleb had stayed in the basement and shook his head when they ran into him. But Brayden held up a small plastic black bag and smiled. They rushed out of the house, moving quietly and quickly down the street to where they’d parked the truck. While the alarm still blared there had been no movement or lights going on at either of the neighboring houses. He considered they might be still asleep since it was only around four in the morning and the sun had yet to rise.
“Cut through that clearing down there,” Caleb yelled from the backseat up to Aidan, who was driving.
“This street has no outlet. You have to turn around,” Brayden interjected.
Aidan tossed his brother a sly smile. “I can make one.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Caleb yelled as Aidan took a hard right.
The truck rocked back and forth as its wheels rode up over the curb and onto the grassy property of the third clueless neighbor. They went straight through their backyard, coming out on another street and speeding away from the scene of the crime, while sirens blared in the distance.
Caleb and Aidan were high-fiving, Brayden was scowling, and Eli was trying not to smile at the younger shifters’ antics. That hidden smile turned into a frown the moment his phone vibrated in his pocket.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“Press conference is cancelled,” Ezra said gruffly.
There was a minor relief that was quickly followed by intense foreboding. “What happened?” Eli asked him.
“Rimas was killed sometime during the night. Papplin just arrived at the hospital for his shift and heard the news. Nurses went into the room to check his vitals at three a.m. and he was unresponsive.”
Eli’s teeth clenched as he listened, his cat awakening to press persistently against his spine. “What else?”
There was more, Eli was positive of that fact.
Ezra sighed heavily. “On a hunch, Papplin went to the room where Rimas was found. He picked up a rogue scent.”
“Fuck!” Eli yelled, and the background chatter in the interior of the truck ceased.
“Don’t go there, Eli,” Ezra warned immediately. “Wherever you are right now, head back to Havenway. Don’t go to the hospital or to your shop. Police are swarming both places. If you show up they’re going to question you and Nick doesn’t want you alone when they do.”
“I’m not going into hiding,” Eli countered.
“We’re all going to be in hiding soon if we don’t get a hold on this hybrid issue. Now that somebody’s clearly out to expose us, we don’t need to help them by flying off the handle and shifting right in front of them.”
“Is that what you think I did? You think I flew off the handle and beat the crap out of Rimas?” Eli asked.
“I think the man was trying to kill you and when Nivea showed up his assault on her pushed a sensitive button. I’m not blaming you but I’m warning you not to put yourself in a situation you can no longer control again.”
“Because I can’t possibly control myself due to the poison that I voluntarily breathed into my body the way you can now?” The words were bitter and matched the complete distaste for everything he and Ezra had been forced to do back in the Sierra Leone rain forest.
Ezra was silent and Eli was annoyed as hell.
Ezra’s revelation that his mate, the human named Dawn, had been his savior from Dagar’s tainted smoke, was a sore subject between the two. Eli refused to believe that relinquishing control of his feelings to a female, again, was necessary to live a normal life. The last thing he needed, after Acacia and Leanne, was to let another female claim any part of him. Besides, Eli wasn’t sure the symptoms he was experiencing had anything to do with the shaman’s potion, after all, Ezra had never complained about seeing things that weren’t presently right in front of him.
Yet even as he pressed the button to end the call with his brother he knew that he’d already made a possibly deadly mistake. He’d slept with Nivea Cannon. Not only had they had sex, acting on the attraction that had been brewing between them for years, but he’d actually slept in a bed with her curled into his arms last night. He’d fallen asleep with her scent permeating his senses and awakened to the same. And dammit, it had felt fucking fantastic!
Thrusting his phone back into his pocket, he filled the Sanchez brothers in on what was going on. “I need you to be my eyes and ears down there,” he told them. “Go to the hospital and see if
you can get a lead on the rogue scent. Stop by the barbershop to see who might be there. If a rogue’s responsible for Rimas’s death, the question is why? If the answer is what I think it is, then we’re all screwed!”
* * *
Agent Dorian Wilson sat on the back deck of his older sister Miranda’s D.C. suburb house. On this early fall afternoon, he stared out at the two trees that were barely in their prime, yet already had golden leaves falling to the ground. The swing that his niece, Jasmine, loved to go higher and higher on, sat idle, as today was a school day. Miranda and her husband, Eric McCoy, the chief of the Metropolitan Police Department’s Homicide Division, were at work. They’d graciously welcomed Dorian into their home when he’d shown up in the early morning hours two weeks ago.
He hadn’t dared go back to his apartment. Wasn’t sure who was watching him now, in addition to the tail he’d already known he had. Taking a pull off the Budweiser he held in his right hand, Dorian recalled how he’d come to be in this place at this time.
A little over two years ago he’d begun investigating a money-laundering scheme originating at the Reynolds & Delgado law firm and stretching down to South America. At the same time, Eric had the murder of Senator Baines and his daughter on his hands. The connection had not come immediately to Dorian, but eventually he’d put some of the pieces together. Kalina Harper, the ex-cop turned wife of Roman Reynolds, hadn’t been able to come up with any hard evidence against the man or his law firm—no surprise there once she began sleeping with him. But talking with his brother-in-law one day at his office, Dorian had come across some strange pictures. He’d copied them and taken them back to his house where he’d begun his own investigation.
As if it had been yesterday, the images played back through his mind. It was of a man—the body, face, legs, arms of a man—with the claws of an animal. Dorian wasn’t naïve, he knew all about Photoshopping pictures and airbrushing images. But something told him this image wasn’t a fake. Or at the very least, if the claws were fake, they’d still been used in the commission of a crime.