“That can’t be good,” Jensen said as he made his way toward the open doors, followed closely by Isis.
*~*~*~*~*
Alpha ran a hand through her short black hair as she made her way down a secret corridor. The hall was hidden in the back of the club, accessible only through a locked door in her office. Cobwebs decorated every corner and clutter lined the walls, remnants from old rooms that were no longer in use.
Alpha continued down the hall until she reached the end where two ordinary doors sat across from each other. She took out a set of keys that were attached to her belt and unlocked one door, stepping into the single windowless room. The occupant glanced up at her. The glow from his laptop illuminated his weary face.
“Alpha, what is it?” he asked, tiredly.
“Halley’s dead, Cara’s missing,” Alpha stated, never one to pussyfoot. The man sat back, running his hands over his unkempt face. His five-o’clock shadow rasped against his rough palms.
“I know,” he replied.
“What do you mean, you know?” Alpha hissed as she slammed the door shut behind her. “Have you called Coop?”
“My contact with access to the Corporation told me the Watersons would be targeted. If I know, I assume Coop does too. He knows my contacts,” the man replied, still unbothered. Alpha stood, gaping, for a moment, not believing her ears.
“That was his family! How much higher does the body count have to get before you actually do something?”
The man leaned forward, his eyes blazing. “Alpha, stay out of it. You don’t know what this place is capable of, what the head will do to ensure his success. I’m doing everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen, but I can only do so much. Yes, there are going to be casualties, probably a lot, but it’s unavoidable in war.”
Alpha shook her head, leaning against a nearby chair. “I heard Roan’s in the Meadows.”
“He is, doing his part,” the man answered in a gruff tone. “Now if you don’t mind . . .”
He gestured toward the door. Alpha glanced at the door and then back to the man. She remembered a time long ago when he had been a doctor, the most well-mannered and compassionate protector she had ever known. Sure, he was part of the establishment, but he still treated everyone with respect, even rebels. That Corporation had changed him, tainted him like it did all shape shifters who got in too deep. The man hunched over the desk again, his eyes fixed on the laptop screen once more.
“When was the last time you went out?” Alpha asked softly. The man rubbed his eyes and groaned.
“I don’t have time and I can’t risk being seen,” he replied, trying to ignore her. She approached the desk, standing above him.
“You’re wound tighter than a spring. You need to take a break,” she pointed out.
“I eat and drink when I need to,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“You need fresh air, the touch of another living being,” she replied, walking around the desk. She slowly pulled herself up on the desk near him. “There are a number of rebels that would gladly relieve some of your stress.”
The man squinted up at her, puzzled. “Are you offering to sleep with me?”
“You aren’t my type, but I would happily arrange companionship for you with another rebel who would be more amenable,” Alpha said, leaning closer to him. “You will be no good to anyone if you have a nervous breakdown, which is exactly where you’re heading.”
The man rubbed his aching eyes again. “Thank you, Alpha. I will think about it.”
Alpha shook her head as she stood again, knowing he would never take her up on the offer. As she was moving to the door, Alpha noticed a basket full of dirty clothes. Papers and books covered every surface in the small room, and maps adorned the walls. There were pictures and pages of strange symbols pinned up in different spots. If she didn’t know him, Alpha would have thought she was standing in the living space of a madman.
“Has he ever taken rebels?” she asked off-handedly, glancing back to where he hunched over the laptop. He was illuminated only by the screen and a pitifully small lamp.
“He doesn’t view shape shifters according to factions,” he answered without looking up, not bothering to sugarcoat his response. “As far as anyone can tell, he just grabs whatever shape shifter he wants. To him, we’re a bunch of mindless guinea pigs.”
“Do you really think you can stop him?”
The man paused for a moment, looking up at her again. “Do you want the truth?”
Alpha nodded once, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I don’t know,” the man answered. Alpha moved to the door, pausing to look at one of the maps. It was covered in colorful pins, a few strands of yarn connecting assorted pins. She looked back at the man one last time and then left the small room, closing the door behind her.
*~*~*~*~*
Isis paced around her bedroom the next night, troubled. Jet and Lilly had told the Four of what Ajax and Malone had found when they visited Ms. Waterson’s home. It had taken every ounce of strength in Isis’ body to conceal just how disturbed she was by the news. She was worried she had gotten Halley killed and the guilt was weighing heavily on her.
Isis went to the doors to the balcony, throwing them open and letting the frigid winter air flood her room. She stepped out onto the frosty ground and into the night. Standing at the balcony railing for a minute, Isis looked out over the mansion lands. The cold air stung her face and body, knifing through her clothes. She shivered in the cold, but kept looking out at the night. If she had gotten Halley killed, even unintentionally, what did that make her? Could she have put Coop in even more danger? Isis should have heeded Alpha’s words and kept the other three in the loop at the very least. She closed her eyes, a million thoughts warring for control in her mind.
Another freezing wind swept over her and Isis went back into her dark room. She closed and locked the balcony doors, striding to the nightstand where her messenger bag was. Isis grabbed it and switched off the lamp. She needed to go for a walk, just around the mansion grounds, to clear her head.
Isis left her room, closing the door behind her, and hurried down the hall. She jogged down the steps and moved through the main hall. She ignored the few shape shifters she passed. At the moment, she wanted to be alone. She suddenly found herself at the garage door. Looking over her shoulder, Isis opened the door and slipped into the garage. Once inside, she pressed the button that would open the large door at the opposite end. She jogged down the three short steps and made her way toward the ascending door.
“Didn’t we already have the ‘no sneaking out’ talk?” a familiar voice asked from her left. “I really thought we had come to an agreement on that topic.”
Isis twisted in the direction of the voice. Jensen was standing near his Jaguar, studying her with that arrogant smirk of his. It faded when he saw the look on her face.
“I’m not sneaking out. I-I just need some fresh air. I won’t leave the property, I promise,” Isis replied softly, looking off to the side. Jensen shifted his weight and glanced out toward the night, running a hand through his hair.
“Listen, you want to take a short trip?” he asked. She felt her mouth drop open and he snickered at her expression.
“You’ve got a caged bird look about you,” he observed. “It’s rather unsettling.”
“I-I . . .” Isis couldn’t think of anything to say. She hadn’t expected him to be that perceptive. She wanted to get the hell out of the mansion, if only for an evening. Isis didn’t necessarily care where either.
Jensen moved around the car and opened the passenger side door, nodding toward the empty seat. “Come on, I have a place in town. I was heading there anyway. Been away too long, the landlord’s going to start getting suspicious.”
Isis paused before blurting out, “I’m not going to sleep with you!”
Jensen couldn’t help but laugh at the random declaration, which was made even more amusing by the blush that rose to
her cheeks. She covered her eyes and muttered obscenities under her breath. She couldn’t believe she had just said that. Of all the idiotic things I could’ve said, that had to be the worst, Isis thought in embarrassment.
“Well now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, hop in,” Jensen said, still laughing.
Isis moved over to the car, sinking into the smooth seat. The car was just as nice on the inside as it was on the outside. The interior was warm and inviting, comfortable. Jensen shut the door and moved around to the driver’s side.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Jensen replied as he closed the driver’s side door. He started the engine and pulled out of the garage. The two made their escape out into the cold winter’s night.
*~*~*~*~*
Jensen unlocked the door to the large, sparsely decorated apartment, holding a bulky handful of mail. The apartment was bare for the most part. Sheets had been thrown over the few pieces of furniture he owned. His lover, Bryn, had been fond of the place, seeing it as her home away from home. Jensen swallowed the lump that came unbidden to his throat as he stepped in and opened the door wider, allowing Isis to enter. He closed the door and locked it. She looked around the open space.
“It’s nice,” she complimented. “How long has it been since you’ve last been here?”
“Years. Kept up on the rent, in case I came back,” Jensen responded as he began sorting through the pile of mail. “There’s no food, but you can order out if you’re hungry.”
“Not really hungry,” Isis said, running her hand over the smooth sheet that covered the table. “You didn’t think you were coming back?”
Jensen shrugged. “I always expect that. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. Plenty of nasty individuals out there who wouldn’t mind wiping out the last of the Aldridge line.”
He pushed the mail aside, which was mostly junk as he had expected, and tossed his keys on the counter before hopping up on one of the bar stools, watching Isis. She glanced over at him and when their eyes met, the electronics in the apartment came to life, startling the two protectors.
“Damn,” Jensen grumbled as he made his way over to the TV set and turned it off. “Must be an electrical surge or something.”
“Jensen?”
“Hm?” Jensen said, not taking his attention from the stereo that he turned off. He moved next to the lights, turning them down a little so the light wasn’t so harsh.
“Why aren’t guardians and shape shifters allowed to have relationships?” Isis asked as she sat down on one of the two stiff chairs at the small table. Jensen shrugged as he moved over to the table, taking off his jacket and draping it over the opposite chair before leaning over it.
“You’ve heard the legend of Selene, right?” he asked, loosely clasping his hands in front of him.
“Bits and pieces,” Isis replied, leaning back in her chair. “I know that she was one of the earliest guardians to fall in love with a shape shifter, and it didn’t end so well.”
Jensen smiled, wondering why she hadn’t been told more. It was one of the most important legends among both guardians and shape shifters.
“You could say that. There are many different versions of the story of Selene. In one, Selene and her lover both died in the War of the Meadows, which I’m sure you heard of. Chaos tried to conquer the land of the guardians after his exile. Many great shape shifters fought alongside the guardians, my ancestors included. In fact, Selene’s lover was a distant relative of the Aldridges. After the fall of Selene, the grief of the guardians was so profound and intense it began to affect the Earth. They wept for days on end and their tears flooded the water realm. Darkness fell over the Meadows and Earth experienced nothing but starless nights. The High Council met and it was decided that the guardian who watched over death would allow Selene to return to life. However, when she was restored, she could find no peace in the Meadows and eventually vanished, never to be seen or heard from again. This was way, way back when. We’re talking the Dark Ages. After Selene disappeared, the High Council decided there would never again be romantic liaisons between shape shifters and guardians.”
Isis snickered at Jensen’s words, ever the refined gentleman. He wasn’t such bad company … on the rare occasions he wasn’t completely full of himself. He smiled when she laughed. It felt as if they had known each other for years rather than just a few weeks.
“Bed or couch, which would you like?” Jensen asked as he straightened up, undoing the buttons on his sleeves. Isis stood up, studying him for a moment.
“Do you agree with the sacred rule, law, whatever it is?” she asked him as if she hadn’t heard his question. Jensen looked at her, taken off guard by the question.
“Not for me to decide,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m a mere protector, a humble servant to the guardians and loyal to the Monroes.”
“Ah,” Isis nodded, smiling in amusement. Jensen stepped forward, intending to step around her. He paused, so close to her he could feel her breath through his shirt. She looked up at him, her green eyes alight with invitation. The silence between them seemed to stretch on for an eternity, until neither of them could take it any longer.
Isis stood on her toes and captured Jensen’s lips with her own. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clasping her wrists so one hand was free to massage the back of his head. They started backing up toward his bedroom, locked in hungry passionate kisses. They collided with the walls, using the small pauses to fumble out of clothing.
Jensen stopped first, whispering, “Wait, wait.”
Isis’ eyes connected with his again. “What’s wrong?”
“We can’t do this, Isis. Do you have any idea what the consequences would be if the guardians were to find out?” Jensen said in a mournful tone, his lips inches from hers. She tilted her head as she looked at him.
“Are you that afraid of the guardians?” she inquired. The almost instinctive fear of shape shifters toward guardians was beginning to get on her nerves. The darkness of the hall enveloped them as they stood, locked in an embrace.
“Them, your uncles, Jet, Lilly,” Jensen replied with a quiet laugh. “Isis, they’re our leaders. I know it’s different with humans, but—”
“That doesn’t give them the right to tell us how to live. Not if we’re not hurting anyone,” she replied, running her fingers through his soft hair with a mischievous smile. “Please don’t tell me you’re a traditionalist. Because that would be a turn-off.”
Jensen chuckled as he looked at her. He smiled as he leaned down and kissed her again. They continued their trek toward Jensen’s room, their hands exploring every inch of the other’s body.
Isis ran her hands over Jensen’s abdominal muscles as he pulled off his shirt. His chest was smooth and yet still masculine. His entire body was warm, like a heavy comforter on a frigid winter night. They finally reached the darkened bedroom, and Isis suddenly felt Jensen’s powerful arms wrap around her slender frame and she wrapped her long legs around his waist. Then she was falling backwards, onto a soft bed with cool smooth covers, the mattress firm beneath her.
High above them, outside the apartment, the moon was the only witness to a sacred law being shattered.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Enormous clocks that didn’t tell time surrounded her on all sides, caging her in. A black cat burst through the face of a clock, wearing an hourglass on its collar. Suddenly she was trapped inside a gigantic hourglass, the dark red sand rising above her throat to her chin. The sand was running out, but it would still bury her.
Isis’ eyes snapped open and her breath caught in her throat. She glanced to her left when Jensen mumbled something in his sleep and turned over, taking a good portion of the covers with him. Isis swallowed and looked back to the window on her right. She thought about the nightmare she had just woken from and curled up under the remaining blanket, putting the images out of her mind. Isis glanced over at Jensen’s back. He hadn’t been her first lover, but he had de
finitely been one of the best, though she had no intention of telling him that. The man doesn’t need any more ego, she thought with a grin.
Isis glanced to the side when she heard a strange rattling on the floor. Something was vibrating in the pocket of her jeans, which lay haphazardly on the ground. She groaned, a feeling of dread overtaking her. Isis had a feeling who was calling and why.
She got out of the bed, taking the top cover with her to act as a makeshift robe. The sun was so bright on the snow it hurt her eyes and Isis shivered in the chilly air. She didn’t remember the apartment being so cold the previous night. Then again, she had been otherwise occupied. She knelt down and retrieved the phone from her discarded pants.
“Hello?” Isis answered.
“You are in so much trouble,” Shae stated, though Isis could hear the laughter in her voice. “Get your ass back here.”
“On my way,” Isis said.
“And I want every last detail,” Shae demanded. Isis could hear her grinning. She glanced over her shoulder to where Jensen still slept. Definitely going to be doing that again, she thought.
Isis smiled and hung up, gathering her clothes as fast as she could. She bit her lip when she remembered Jensen had brought her to the apartment. Isis looked back at him, reluctant to wake him up. She smirked, an evil little smirk that frequently crossed her features when she knew she was about to do something that would get her in trouble.
Isis swiftly pulled on her clothes and hurried out to the main area of the apartment. Sure enough, the keys to the Jaguar were on the counter, right where Jensen had left them the previous night. Isis snatched them and grabbed her shoes, slipping them on. She sorted through the junk mail, grabbing a good-sized envelope and a nearby pen. Scribbling a quick note, Isis put it where she knew Jensen would see it on the counter. She moved to the apartment door and undid the locks, opening the door. Nero stood on the other side of the door, his hand raised as if he had been about to knock. He tilted his head as he studied her. Isis smiled at him and jostled the car keys in her hand.
Through Storm and Night (The Shape Shifter Chronicles Book 2) Page 19