"Beats me." I shrugged. "Maybe go run surveillance on Nix's office again? Even though I'm pretty sure that was bad intel. It's got to be better than sitting around here and waiting for Fin and Riot to come chew me out again, or discuss feelings with Mik ... or Revel." I shuddered. There was very little I despised more than discussing feelings.
Ziff must have agreed, because he hopped up and scampered to sit on my shoulder while I snatched up my favorite leather Armani bag. Little he might be, but sometimes he could get seriously heavy sitting on my shoulder all day; it was nice to have the bag around, just in case.
Making my way back through my enormous house, I snatched up my keys from the hall table then paused once I got outside on the driveway. There was an envelope on the ground near the gates, a rather conspicuous little thing.
Curious, I placed Ziff down on the ground, so I could pick the envelope up. It had my name scrawled on the front of it in neat, old-fashioned handwriting, and it was sealed with a wax stamp. I couldn't quite make out the monogram in the wax, so slipped my finger underneath it to try and keep the seal intact for later.
"Looks like ... " I murmured, taking the note out and scanning it. "Looks like an anonymous tip on where I can find Nix today. That's awfully convenient." I tried really hard not to roll my eyes then failed. Fuck it. Who doesn’t like a good eye roll every now and again?
I frowned at the note, then opened the front gate to peer down the street. Nothing seemed out of place; the neighborhood was quiet and empty as usual. It had to have been delivered recently, though, or Mik would have seen it when he was leaving. Which meant someone had just been here …
Crap, I seriously fucking did need that new security system. Not that I wasn’t a walking-talking security system all on my own, right?
Tucking the note into my back pocket, I headed back into the house and grabbed a few more weapons. Nothing crazy, just a few boot knives, a second Ruger, and some back-up ammo. One never could be too careful.
"Come on, Ziff." I whistled to my friend and his little nails clicked on the marble floors as he followed me through to the garage. It wasn't totally unheard of to get anonymous tips in my line of business. In fact, it happened all the damn time thanks to people's lack of balls when it came to forking over info about the bad guys. I'd just never had one delivered to my house before, and it made me a little uncomfortable.
Still, the location given in the note was a pretty well-known lunch spot in the business district. There would be hundreds of people around, so it wasn't all that risky to just check it out. Besides, I had nothing else to do today.
Decided, I plugged the address into the Lola’s GPS, and rolled her out of the garage. If nothing else, at least I'd have a nice lunch and charge it to RADOPA as a business expense. Mik would love that.
Chuckling to myself, I turned up the music and rolled down my windows. Today was going to be a good day. I was determined.
It was barely ten o'clock when I pulled into the valet parking for Rioja, so the place was only just opening up for the day. On the one hand, I was unlikely to spot Nix here until lunchtime, assuming he worked in one of the thousands of offices around the restaurant. On the other hand, I should be able to get a table without much hassle.
"Good morning, ma’am," the smartly attired maître d' greeted me as I approached the front desk. "May I ask what name your reservation is under?"
I smiled back as pleasantly as I could manage. "I don't have one," I told him. "Just a table for one, please."
The man's smile turned cold and he slammed his heavy, leather bound book closed. "I'm sorry, we're fully booked for the next three years."
His tone suggested I politely fuck off, and it got my anger heated. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out my wallet and presented him with my RADOPA identification badge.
"How about now?" I asked sweetly, but threw the force of a thousand daggers into my glare. He paled, glancing from my badge to my face and back again before swallowing audibly.
"Y-yes, of course, ma'am," he stuttered. "Right this way."
Despite our organization’s fancy title, everyone knew what we were. Killers. And not just normal ones either, but the best of the supernaturals. Occasionally I felt bad about flashing my credentials around, but not when it was to a snotty asshole like this maître d' and not after the shit week I’d been having. If the man thought I might assassinate him for denying me a caprese salad, well then, that was his problem.
I followed him with my head held high, my tails flowing behind me and my ears perked up on alert. Smart man that he was, he gave me a table toward the back of the restaurant where I could sit with my back to the wall and watch everyone come and go.
"Thank you," I said politely as I took my seat and opened the menu. The man bobbed his head and murmured that someone would be over to help me shortly, then scurried away again.
Unhurried, I browsed the menu, then placed my order with a considerably more friendly waitress who came over to serve me. There was no way of guessing what time Nix might come in here for lunch, if he came in at all, and I really hated to just sit here and take up a table without ordering anything, so I made sure to start small and stagger my courses over a few hours. Expensive wine would help, too.
Good thing this was all being expensed! Not that I couldn't afford it myself, but it was more fun when work paid.
Ziff got comfortable on the bench seat beside me, and I gave him his own plate of chicken strips to keep him going while we waited. Meanwhile, I took out my laptop and started looking at maps of the Vail Valley Pack land.
Bennett had mentioned having several of his wolves affected by the tainted dust, but he also seemed relatively confident they were still on pack property. Perhaps he had some sort of pack bond that told him when they'd left or something, I had no idea. My knowledge of the wolves extended only so far as they're dangerous as fuck, stay the hell away. Even if my mother hadn't been killed by them, the scars on Riot's arms were enough to remind me.
"So if I were a wolf, stuck in human form, and slowly going insane … where would I go?" I was murmuring this aloud to myself, and to Ziff, but it was the waitress pouring my glass of wine who responded.
"You'd hide, that's what you'd do," she snickered. "Everyone knows that shit is a death sentence. If the alpha finds out you can’t shift, well, your days are seriously numbered. He used to let them live; not anymore."
Her answer surprised me. Not the information, I mean that was pretty obvious, but the fact that she'd answered with such certainty.
"You're a wolf?" I asked, frowning up at her. She didn't have that earthy smell that so many wolves had, but then again, I never really mixed with polite wolf company. My run-ins with the lycans were always during tense, fight or flight situations when emotions were running high.
"Shh," she whispered, smiling, "I haven't told my boss." Her eyes flickered over to the asshole maître d'. "He's a bit of a speciesist. They only hire humans here, or those of us who can fake it." She nodded at my tails draped over the seat on either side of me and then gestured at my ears. "Even though I am crazy jealous you can just be you, I need this job."
"Yeah, understandable." I gave her a sympathetic smile. It had been a rough road since supernaturals became integrated into the human world, and there was loads of lingering prejudice. "So you're in the Vail Valley Pack?"
"I sure am," she said with a proud grin, which quickly fell. "Why? No offense, but what does a kitsune have to do with my pack?"
"Uh." I hesitated. "Yeah, but I don't know if you're supposed to know? Then again, your alpha is a total a-hole, so what the hell do I care? He hired me to look into finding some of the diseased members of the pack.” No point in adding that he’d also hired me to kill them. “Can you think of any places to hole up on pack land?"
The waitress chewed her lip for a moment, picking at the label of my wine bottle while she thought. "Yeah, I can think of a couple of places I'd go, if I wanted to hide out but stay on pack property. Can you tell me who you’r
e looking for exactly?"
"Sorry." I shook my head. "I don't know yet. I was thinking of heading to Vail tonight to get more info from Bennett."
Her brows shot up. "How about you wait until my shift gets off and I'll come with you? To be honest with you, I kind of need a ride anyway." She shrugged her shoulders, but I just grinned. I appreciated the honesty. “Besides, even if he did hire you, Bennett hates foxes. Maybe it’d just be easier if I showed you around?”
I snorted a humorless laugh. "He hates us? That's rich. From a wolf to a kitsune."
"Yeah, I know." She shrugged, tucking some dirty blond hair behind one of her very human ears. "But … he has his reasons. Y’all aren’t as helpless as you look, are you?" she grinned at me and I pursed my lips, nodding.
"We sure aren't," I murmured, my mind going a million miles an hour. What the hell sort of reasons could be she be referring to anyway? Not sure why I cared, but I suddenly wanted to know a little more about the mysterious alpha with an attitude problem.
"Well, anyway, I'll leave you alone. My shift gets off at eight, if you want to pick me up? It'll save me taking the bus." She gave me such a happy puppy smile, I couldn't help but return it.
"Sure thing. I'm Thea, by the way." I held out my hand for her to shake.
"Oh, I see." Her eyes widened as she shook my hand. "Yep, if you’re that Thea, from RADOPA, definitely best I go with you. Bennett mentioned we might see you on the property. I'm Shelbi." Just then, the sour-faced maître d' walked past and hissed her name under his breath. "And that's my cue to leave. Enjoy lunch, Thea!"
She trotted off through the restaurant and I watched in amazement. Had I seriously just made friends with a wolf? After I'd just been thinking about how damn dangerous they were? Maybe I was losing my mind? That'd explain all the weird shit with Mik and Revel at any rate.
Taking a sip of my delicious … whatever-the-fuck-wine-I’d-ordered, I turned back to my computer to set a reminder for eight o'clock that night. Life had gotten so crazy, I didn't want to get caught up and forget to pick up my new friend.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" a man asked, and I didn't bother to look up. It was a testament to how caught up I was in my work that I didn’t even glance at the owner of that scrumptious voice. Maybe I should’ve recognized it?
"No, all yours," I replied automatically, waving my hand as if to say, take the chair if you want. Of course, considering I was sitting in a booth, there was no chair. That’s what gave me pause. A quick glance up gave way to both shock and surprise as Nix Locklear took the bench seat across from me.
"Nix," I breathed. "What … ah ... " I glanced around the restaurant which was only just starting to fill up now. Had I really been slacking on my observation skills that hard? The whole freaking point of coming here was to watch for Nix, and yet here he was sitting opposite me and I'd not even seen him walk in.
"What am I doing here?" he finished for me, adjusting his glasses with a single finger. That ice-cold smile was back on his face again, no less beautiful in the daylight than it’d been in the dark club. "Having lunch with you. You did get my invitation. I assume that's why you're here?" His pale blue eyes held mine captive as I searched for my witty banter that had all but abandoned me.
"That was from you?" I fired back, still seriously in shock.
He frowned slightly, making his glasses shift on his nose. "I don’t know what sort of life you lead, Miss Hunt, but do you often receive invitations sealed in wax?"
"How the hell would I know that a wax-sealed message would automatically come from you?" I argued, pushing a few loose strands of dark hair away from my face. Ziff hissed, and I put a hand on his back to placate him. The skinwalker creeped him out, and I didn’t blame him. The man could literally shed his human skin and assume a new identity. That was a disturbing thought, even for a shifter to take in. And I thought that 'Lunch at Rioja, Nix' meant like … Nix will be having lunch at Rioja if you want to stake him out. Or … something." I could quite safely say it never even crossed my mind that the man I was contracted to kill would be asking me out.
He simply stared at me for a moment, like I was as dense as I felt. "Well, now that you're here. Have you ordered?"
"Just an appetizer," I admitted, blushing, and then getting angry that I was blushing. Maybe I felt stupid for picking him up in that bar? Letting him push me against a wall and fondle my breasts? Shouldn’t I have known on some instinctive level that this guy was bad news? Everyone makes mistakes I supposed, and I shouldn’t beat myself up over it. Yet, here I was, having lunch with the prick.
"Perfect." Nix sat back, dressed in a three-piece gray suit with a black tie, content to wait for Shelbi to return to our table. Here was an unhurried sort of man, so full of his own confidence that he quite easily believed the world revolved around him and him alone. It both disgusted and fascinated me, that supreme level of trust in one’s self. Shelbi stumbled over—she seemed the clumsy type—and frantically took Nix’s order, giving me a look that very clearly said you lucky bitch. If only she knew the truth of the matter.
As soon as she was gone, Nix turned those intense eyes of his back to me.
"Thea,” Nix began in a slow, dangerous sort of way, like he was testing my name out on the tip of his tongue. “Miss Hunt. It’s nice to see you again, even if under less attractive circumstances. I quite liked the feel of my hand on your breast, didn’t you?" The way he was talking to me was almost mocking, and I wanted to punch him in the teeth for it. He seemed to expect that, smiling beatifically in my direction as he adjusted the silver chain holding his dirty coyote fur around his neck. I wondered if he ever took it off. Maybe to shower? What about when he fucked?
Thea, seriously?! This guy wants you dead and yet you're still thinking about fucking him?
"You should really wash that fur," I blurted out. "It looks greasy as all hell. I can recommend a great conditioner that I use for my tails if you like?"
The glare he gave me could have cut glass, and I immediately cursed myself for my big mouth. I was still without my magic, and this asshole had already made it pretty clear he didn't care about making a scene in front of humans.
"Speaking of your tails," he finally said, ignoring my insult about his dirty fur. "That’s why I asked you here today."
"Oh," I fake pouted, unable to help myself. "And here I thought it was because you couldn't stop thinking about me and how wild I might have been in bed."
Wow. Where the hell had that come from? Am I seriously flirting with the psychopath responsible for almost a hundred shifter deaths, and counting?!
Nix gave me a cool smile in response. "Something like that. Perhaps I was too hasty when I mentioned you needed to die the other night. As I see it, we might actually be able to help each other out."
"Uh-huh." I narrowed my eyes at him in suspicion. "Something tells me you don't mean helping out with each other’s sexual tension. So what are you scheming in that psychotic mind of yours, Nix Locklear? Don't even think about slipping me any of your tainted dust either. I can smell that shit a mile away."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, leaning back as Shelbi placed his drink down on the table in front of him. I noticed she was quivering slightly as she did it. Not a very high-ranking pack member, was she? "I mentioned that I worked in experimental research …"
I snorted. "Uh yeah. That kinda makes sense now, considering you've been providing the drugs that’re killing all these shifters." I leaned forward and curled my lip up at the edge. “Do you not lose any fucking sleep over that? People are dying because of you, you son of a bitch. Don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”
Nix didn't even look the slightest bit rattled by this, instead just sipped his drink—Scotch, neat, please—and watched me like an animal in the zoo. He was fascinated by me, that much was obvious, but not in a simply sexual way. No, there was an interest that went far beyond the gleam in his eye, or the way his ringed finger tapped the edge of his glass in a steady, maddening so
rt of rhythm.
"The dust doesn't kill them," he corrected eventually. "You do. If anyone’s to blame for shifter deaths, Miss Hunt, it's you and the always charming Mr. Ravena."
My jaw fell open at the sheer fucking audacity of his statement. As if I were the psychotic murderer! All I, and RADOPA, were doing was cleaning up his mess!
"But I'm not here to lay blame at anyone's doorstep," Nix continued, smiling like the predator he was. "I came to propose a partnership. I've never had the pleasure of working with one of the Nine before, and I think you could be invaluable to my research."
"And what do I get out of this?" I asked sceptically. "What could you possibly offer to make me accept becoming your lab rat?"
He grinned, like he'd already won. "Firstly, I'm not asking for a lab rat. Just the opportunity to watch and observe. Take notes. Ask questions. Maybe run one or two simple tests? In return, I can promise I’ll stop creating and distributing the taint to the masses."
"What good will that do?" I challenged. "It's already spreading on its own through unprotected sex."
His grin spread across his face, like he was trying not to laugh. "Well, I can't help that, I'm afraid. I suggest shifters stop acting like such animals and invest in a few condoms until a cure can be found."
"You don't have a cure?" I was floored. "What kind of irresponsible egomaniac creates a disease with no cure?"
His blue eyes flashed with anger and annoyance, and I shifted a little uncomfortably in my seat. "No, Miss Hunt, I distinctly do not. That’s what I require your help for."
"Mine?" I growled back, stroking one of Ziff’s ears to help maintain my calm. "What the hell do I have to do with this?"
Nix sighed and took off his glasses to rub at his eyes. He was exhausted; I could see that now, but what I couldn't understand was why. Why he was sending this disease out into the shifter community and not giving two flying foxfires about the results?
"This problem, the inability to shift and the resulting madness … it started with a kitsune. A very old, very powerful kitsune. I’ve been employed by a much higher being than you to find out what’s caused it and create a cure. Unfortunately, as the saying goes, you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs." Nix’s gaze was clear and totally unapologetic, and I felt a shiver of prophecy roll through me, leaving that distinctive metallic taste on my tongue. Something told me things would get a lot worse before they got better.
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