Lawful Claim
The Sigma Menace: Book 4
By Marie Johnston
Lawful Claim
Copyright © 2015 by Lisa Elijah
Copyediting by EbookEditingServices.com
Second Edition Editing by The Killion Group
Cover by P and N Graphics
The characters, places, and events in this story are fictional. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are coincidental and unintentional.
Agent E wasn’t always an evil Sigma Agent. Even though evil had her claws in him, he couldn’t help but hang on to his past and watch over the family he lost, protecting them by staying dead to them. Until one night, he interfered.
When Ana Esposito’s life, and that of her son, was saved by the husband she had buried over a decade ago, her world irrevocably changed. Any chance of safety for her and her son lay with the hardened man that used to be the love of her life.
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Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
About the Author
To Melissa.
I will keep paying my bestie, and favorite beta reader, in coffee and pictures of shirtless hotties.
Chapter One
This was his favorite spot.
Leaning against an old cottonwood, the bark digging into his back, Agent E shoved his hands in his pockets and watched through the window as a pretty, curvaceous woman cleaned up the dishes after supper. She looked as good as she always did, even with her silky black hair caught up in a messy bun at the top of her head, a sign she had a shit day at work. Her old T-shirt was actually his old T-shirt.
Wonder if the suave asshole knows that? Probably not, or the shirt would have been shredded and burned. Gone, like all the pictures of her and her late husband together. E didn’t like Ana Esposito’s fiancé. Not at all. Nothing about the guy sat well with him. Something about the suits and the mannerisms, like the dude thought he was better than Ana and she should thank her lucky stars he took pity on her enough to be willing to marry her.
Then again, no one in E’s mind was good enough for his wife, including himself. Madame G, the madwoman leading the Freemont chapter of Sigma, made sure of that. Made sure Julio Esposito died a horrid death, only to be resurrected and morphed into Sigma Agent E—expert hunter and murderer. It was better for Ana if he stayed dead, his only identity Agent E. The things Madame G had made him do, the things he still had to do to survive…
Shoving those thoughts to the back of his mind, he zeroed in on Ana, savoring every glimpse he could as she crossed the break in the curtains. One night a few months ago, he stood out there like the dumbass he was. The window was cracked open, and his enhanced hearing picked up on her fiancé talking to her about installing a new window, the kind with the blinds in the glass. Fuck, he couldn’t see through plastic.
The old window still stood, and E suspected it was because Ana refused to let go of Nana’s hand-sewn curtains. When Ana’s grandmother had passed away, she gifted Ana with the house. E never had a chance to reside there back when he was human and married to Ana, but he was forever grateful to Nana. His demise had left Ana nearly homeless. Nana’s generosity ensured she would never have to worry again.
Good luck to the suit-wearing bastard trying to get Ana to move.
A lump formed in E’s throat, like it always did, at the next person to walk into the kitchen.
Tall for his age, with neatly-trimmed dark hair and coffee-brown eyes, ten-year-old Julio Jr. was the spitting image of his father. It was a rare sight of Julio and his mom together. Julio was only a few inches shorter than his petite mother, but would likely grow as tall, or taller, as E. With skin slightly darker than Ana’s, but not as cocoa-hued as E’s, Julio already had the swagger that would turn young women’s heads in his teenage years.
But, as E’s snooping had revealed, Julio had the brains of his mother. Maybe that would help him avoid what Ana termed “the hero complex,” a character trait that had landed E exactly where he was now. Over ten years ago, E had rushed into a shit storm to save the day with no thought of the consequences. Had he hung back, analyzed the scene more thoroughly, maybe he would’ve noticed the unnatural tendencies of the fire and pondered the presence of screaming women and children in an abandoned warehouse. Maybe he would have felt the hair at the back of his neck stand on end from the malevolent force waiting for him to rush into the building before backup had arrived.
Ana stood with her hands on her lushly-rounded hips, scolding Julio for the cesspit he called a room. Gah, the boy was a slob, a result of his mother’s overbearing tendencies where the boy was concerned. Had things been different, Ana would’ve been more laid back. She would not have had to give birth, raise a child, and finish school all on her own, after her husband was supposedly killed in the line of duty.
Headlights swung past E’s hiding spot and the suit-wearing bastard pulled up. The guy didn’t live with Ana, but he came by most every night. Some nights became sleepovers. E ground his teeth to a near breaking point every time he saw them kiss. When the kisses would deepen and E could see the bastard taking what should still rightfully be his, E usually had to leave. Otherwise, he might rip the tree he reclined against right out of the ground.
What a hypocrite. The games Madame G enjoyed most were making her Agents perform—in all kinds of ways. Sex was one way she broke them down, stripped them of any humanity, and of their former identity. When Agent E woke up after that fire, he found himself healed and stronger than ever. He also found he’d been shot up with a roofie on steroids and given to the seduction trainers Madame G employed.
E snorted, trainers. More like depraved individuals who got off on power over another’s body. But it didn’t matter. E had been like a lunatic, in sensory overload, didn’t remember who he was, and especially didn’t feel human anymore. He tore through those women and demanded more. So Madame G sent more. E spent himself on whoever was in the room and was willing.
Thank whatever power out there working against Madame G for Agent X. When E was throwing himself against the door asking for more, crazed out of his mind, a couple of vampires threw him into a room with a young recruit Madame G was trying to break.
E had stalked into the room and saw a fragile young woman, not much younger than his wife…and then it had registered. His wife. E’s memories had poured back as he took in the naked form with hair as long and black as his Ana’s, curled up on the floor, shaking. He had dropped to his knees, a sense of who he had been flooding his consciousness. The trembling young woman gazed at him with stunning green eyes that were a mirror to her vulnerability. Then she lunged up and attacked him.
X had damn near wrenched his head off and he didn’t fight her, willed her to end him, because he had already ended everything that had mattered to him.
He cursed the hell out of her when he woke up in a sticky pool of his own blood, or what had been left after she drank from him.
“Why didn’t you kill me?” he had croaked to her.
The young X, with her brilliant green eyes, met his stare. “You were able to stop yourself. So was I. Maybe you and I can be strong enough to stop her.”
If the slip of a woman hadn’t just torn out h
is throat, he might have failed to take her seriously. Yet the resolution in those eyes, the dead serious tone of her voice…Like she had done, he too decided his old life was gone, and he would do everything he could to ruin the monster who took it all from him.
“Who did she take from you?” E had asked her after his decision was made.
“It’s who she didn’t take,” X had responded flatly.
And that was when E realized his vendetta wasn’t about revenge. It was about saving the family left behind. Because Madame G had made it clear, not long after his introduction to X, that his family, including the baby he hadn’t known he was expecting, would pay for any hint of noncompliance to Sigma’s master plan, and more importantly, Madame G’s master plan.
Revenge became a tricky bitch to work with.
E stood there recalling about those early days of his conversion to whatever the hell he was now. He watched the bastard—what was the asshole’s name? Griffin—Griffin, the suit-wearing bastard, give Ana a peck on the cheek and take her luxurious locks down from the haphazard bun. Ana had to hate that. She loved her hair, but the weight of a healthy, full head of thick hair that fell past her shoulder blades gave her a tension headache after a stressful day at work. And when she was puttering around the house, she always wanted it out of the way.
Movement beside the house caught his attention. A shadow flitted through the trees. E narrowed his eyes, his inhuman senses picking out a kid on a bike. Julio was riding away from the house and E decided to follow him. He suspected Julio left without telling his mother, he and never went out after dark. Why tonight?
Drifting through the trees that stretched from the far side of the street to Ana’s house, E kept pace with the bike, not even breathing heavily, but growing concerned as his son neared the river. Ana’s house sat on the outskirts of Freemont and was situated on the border of an older development. The touch of rural meant the neighborhood was too dark for a young boy to be out alone. The river nearby was all the more reason this didn’t feel right.
Sensing people in the vicinity, E slowed, moving quick enough to keep up with Julio, but scanning the area with his senses. Two people, both male, one younger. His gut tightened. None of this was good.
Julio headed toward a rocky, rugged area by the bank of the river that was often deserted, at least by anyone with good intentions. What was his son up to?
The lanky boy ditched the bike and walked toward the riverbank. E couldn’t get much closer without being seen. The trees became too small and too sparse near the water. The unfamiliar tingle of nervousness arose. Damn, this wasn’t good. It didn’t bode well that he was nervous for his son. Nerves made for stupid decisions. Everything he’d done in the last decade had been with cold deliberation. Now wasn’t the time for stupid mistakes.
“Hey,” Julio called to a shadowy figure. “You got the card?”
What the fuck? Card?
“Yeah kid,” the figure called. “Come on over.”
No. Don’t. Fuck, Julio, just don’t. The bank of the river wasn’t a cliff by any means, but it was a good ten to fifteen feet in the air with a solid current underneath. Nothing a seventy-five-pound ten-year-old could handle.
“Is it a Holofoil rare first edition?” Julio neared the figure standing way too close to the edge. “I’ve been wanting that type of Venusaur forever.”
Hope filled his voice, and E couldn’t figure out for the life of him what the hell his son was talking about. Was it even English?
“Yeah, right here.” The other boy sounded rushed, hyped on adrenaline. “Come here.”
Don’t go there, Julio.
The older kid, a wiry fifteen-year-old, if that, from what E could tell, held out a small rectangular card. A trading card? Fucking figures. His son would turn away every drug dealer known to man, but dangle a Pokémon card in front of the kid’s face and he epically loses all common sense. Or as much as a ten-year-old can have.
As Julio grabbed the card, the second male strode from the trees toward the boys, putting all of E’s reflexes on high alert.
“Dude, this is my dad.”
Julio spun around to the stranger, a look of panic on his face.
E’s son took a step backward, thankfully away from the river’s edge, but not nearly far enough to grant E some peace.
“You Ana’s son?” the man almost demanded.
Warily looking around, Julio answered cautiously. “Yeah.”
“Good.” The man stepped forward, shoving both hands into Julio’s chest so hard the boy didn’t stagger back, but flew over the edge into the river.
No! Breathing like a bull through his nose, E closed his eyes, commanding his feet to stay right where they were set. His keen hearing picked up a splash, but no shouting from his son, which did not bode well.
Wait. It. Out.
The two peered over the edge, afraid to get too close.
“Kid?” the adult called.
As much as E wanted to hear his son’s voice, he fervently hoped Julio didn’t answer if he was able to.
“Come on, let’s go.” The teenager was bouncing up and down from foot to foot.
“Yeah, the water should take him under. There’s no way he can crawl up these banks by himself.” The two turned and headed toward the street where a beat-up car was parked a few blocks away.
E was already advancing toward the water’s edge, aiming downstream a bit where the swift current might have carried Julio.
Peering over, he searched down the bank to where Julio would’ve entered the water. Nothing. Shuffling along, he followed the uneven, rocky edge when finally, his sensitive hearing picked up some coughing.
Sprinting toward the sound, a good hundred yards away, E fought branches of old, worn trees bordering the river’s edge. There, a small form, almost six feet down, had gotten slapped against a rocky outcropping and was hanging on for dear life.
“Julio.”
His son looked up and E despised the fear he saw in the kid’s brown eyes, hated that his son would ever look at him in fear. “Hang on. I’m coming down to help you out.”
His breathing choppy as water splashed him in the face, Julio looked like he contemplated swimming away. What E wouldn’t give to hunt down the man who did this to his kid. But doing so would endanger little Julio’s life even more if dear old dad interfered.
Quickly gauging the stability of the shore that had been cut down over the centuries by the river, E zeroed in on enough rocky outcroppings to make it down to where Julio was clinging.
“Julio,” E spoke calmly, catching the boy’s eye, “hang on.”
Whether it was the calm certainty in E’s voice or just that he didn’t want to drown, Julio solemnly nodded, and he hugged the outcropping even tighter.
E slid down on his belly to the first tenuous foothold and quickly descended to water level. Trying to stay out of the water, not wanting to end the night fighting the water’s pull with his load of weapons while keeping his son’s head above water, E reached as far out as he could while still holding onto the slight purchase he had. He was only inches from Julio’s hands.
“Can you grab onto me?”
Uncertainty plagued Julio as he considered E’s extended hand. Leaning as far as he could, E could almost brush against his son’s skin.
“Just grab for me. I’ll catch you.”
Instead of lunging forward, toward the outstretched hand, Julio made the critical mistake of loosening his grip. The pull of the water was too much for the spindly arms. Terror filled Julio’s face and he drifted away.
E twisted and pressed his booted feet into the edge, using his body as a bridge. He grabbed the same outcropping Julio was holding onto and snatched his son’s outstretched arm. Yanking him in, Julio yelped as E swung him closer to grab him around the side, pushed himself off the rocks, and threw his son up and over the edge. Using his enhanced strength and reflexes, E sprang up, landing next to the gasping boy. Shivers wracked his small body, and E suspected
that it was more from the adrenaline and near-death experience than any real chill.
He sat down beside Julio to figure out what to do next. Pat him on the back and say, “There, there?” Shit, tonight was the first night he’d even touched his son.
Shit…tonight he’d gotten to touch his son. E let the awe sink in. Then the dread. It was imperative he remained dead to those he loved. So now what?
“You okay?”
Julio sat up in a position that mimicked E’s—knees drawn in, hands wrapped around them, staring out over the river. “Yeah.”
“Listen. You can’t tell anyone about me. Tell your mom what happened, but you can’t mention me.”
Julio looked up at him, squinting like it would help him see better in the dark. The development’s streetlights barely touched this far off the beaten path, and there was little moonlight to highlight his features.
“Why not?”
“It’s safer for you. For us both.”
Julio nodded. “All right. Why did they try to kill me?”
E ground his teeth together. “I don’t know. But they might try again. Stay in public. Don’t leave the house until the police figure it out.”
Julio frantically shook his head. “I don’t want to tell Mom. She’ll kill me.”
Before he could stop himself, he rubbed Julio’s back. “She wants you safe. She won’t be angry you told her the truth.”
But dude, she’d be pissed someone hurt her son. Ana’s temper was legend although she rarely unleashed it. One night he had left his dirty clothes laying around one too many times. He found his underwear on the ceiling fan, in the blinds, and had to fish one out that plugged the toilet. Even at the compound, he was still religious about using a laundry basket.
“You tell her, you hear? About all of this. Just say you climbed out yourself.”
“Will you walk me home?” Julio’s shivering had subsided, but he faced a dreaded deed.
Lawful Claim Page 1