by Gaja J. Kos
Bren, like most weres, cherished a good hunt. And the spark in his hazel eyes only confirmed it.
His grin gained a wolfish quality. “You know it.”
I left Bren to his own devices and padded along the lockers until I came in sight of the tall, narrow mirror stuck to the wall. Braiding wet hair without seeing what I was doing produced results not suited for the workplace. Or any kind of public, for that matter. By the time I was done taming the strands, Bren had already left for the shower. I shimmied into fresh underwear, then threw on a pair of stretchy black jeans and a loose white tee. Choosing outfits based on my ability to fight in them had become second nature since joining ICRA’s ranks. Much like the barter with my fellow agents.
I bit my lip, grabbed my small leather backpack, then closed the locker. Barter, yes. But at the same time, so much more. I slung my backpack over one shoulder. It was easy to fall into the whole predator routine while at ICRA HQ, and I’d meant what I said to Bren. An exercise topped by a hunt sounded pretty damn fine.
Unfortunately, there was still some tiny, rebellious part of me that liked to express its outrage about my eager acceptance of violence. A part that found its voice usually when I was alone, isolated from the pack vibes my fellow agents infused me with.
Maybe that was a good thing. At least it meant I hadn’t completely broken the links to my previous life.
Elena’s footsteps sounded behind me just as I cleared the doors, and I slowed for her to catch up.
“Headed home?” I asked as we strode up a short ramp.
Elena scrunched up her nose. “I have to finish the report first. Don’t want it to keep me here tomorrow after I’m done.”
“I thought we worked the same block this month…”
We turned left towards the bullpen, but neither of us stepped out onto the floor just yet. I braced one shoulder against the wall, silently prompting Elena for an answer. While I didn’t have a steady partner and had no trouble rotating among various agents, I enjoyed working with Elena most.
She flicked her gaze at the bullpen, then, following my example, leaned against the opposite wall. Her sigh came out loud and so dramatic I hardly held back a good-natured snort.
“Someone,” she said at long last, voice dry, “had the absolutely brilliant idea to mix things up a bit and make us cover more shifts. I suspect you’ll get your serving of shit and shittier days next month.”
“Well, shit.”
“I do hope, Agent Mayer,”—we both froze at the intrusion of a third voice, though Elena went one step further and paled until she basically blended with the wall—“that particular someone who causes you so much woe isn’t me.”
I pasted on a meek smile and pushed to the front to shield my witchy friend at least for a little while. “Hello, sir.”
Senior Agent Arne Kaatz looked at me, unimpressed. The head of our Sublevel One division, he basically had the same clout as Superintendent General Gabler who’d sworn me into service nine months ago—minus the fancy title. But everyone at ICRA knew Kaatz didn’t care for that kind of shit when his true status showed day after day with the numerous agents, as well as a few senior ones, he oversaw.
Elena reported directly to him, but since Isa still hadn’t made an appearance ever since she’d left for her undercover mission in February, so did I.
Trading one vamp for another.
Only I wasn’t sure which was scarier.
Kaatz’s autumn-brown eyes held nothing but absolute authority as he scanned Elena still hiding in the background, then directed the full weight of his attention to me. “I want both of you in my office in five. No excuses.”
2
The entire floor seemed to have quieted as Senior Agent Kaatz turned away from us and walked towards the elevator, his long legs eating up the distance with a determined stride. A few agents peered in our direction with not exactly reassuring looks, but I was a bit too preoccupied wondering why Elena, Kaatz, and I couldn’t just take the lift up to the eleventh floor together to pay them any heed.
Sure, the tactic fell under the scope of power play, but it still came across as counterproductive given his time restriction. Or—I flexed my fingers to release the buildup of tension—not.
Whatever this was about, I had a gut feeling neither Elena nor I would like it.
She definitely looked relieved that she didn’t have to spend more time than needed in Kaatz’s presence, and—I worked the kinks from my neck—I had to admit I was thankful for the reprieve, too.
Even hard-asses like Kaatz knew when to give their agents time to recover.
Now if only my mind weren’t a bitch, offering up a whole array of horrible scenarios that would greet us once we piled into Kaatz’s office instead of accepting his gift.
Shaking my head before the trepidation could take hold, I threw an arm around Elena’s shoulders and guided her across the floor.
“When will I learn to keep my mouth shut?” she muttered.
“You? Never.” I nodded a greeting at a red-haired agent I knew by sight but had never really spoken to, then drew Elena closer to me. “But that’s what makes you so awesome.”
“Oh, I’m sure Kaatz thinks I’m awesome for bitching about him behind his back.”
I snorted and swiped my card through the less grand version of the elevator we had out in the lobby. This one, ICRA reserved for agents who didn’t want to show their faces in public. Or were too bloody to do so.
We were neither, but ever since I stumbled upon this lovely discovery, I developed a habit of using it.
“Elena, that man doesn’t give a fuck what we think or say as long as we get the job done.”
She slipped from under my arm, punched in the button for the eleventh floor, then leaned her back against polished steel. Her honey-blonde hair spread around her like a halo, and a soft laugh left her lips, though it didn’t quite succeed in lifting the shadows from her blue eyes.
“All right, I’ll give you that one.” She flicked one ankle over the other. “But if he isn’t about to yell at our asses, what do you think he wants?”
Suppressing a smile, I shot Elena a pointed look. “I never said yelling was off the menu.”
Kaatz’s office was a slightly larger twin of Isa’s, but where hers was simplistic yet elegant, his reminded me a lot more of my own back when I had still been CEO of the Olympiapark Tennis-Zentrum. Papers and folders took up nearly every surface the space had to offer. A blood-heating unit was pushed between some stacks atop the hardwood filing cabinet, and a tray carrying opaque travel mugs stacked like neat soldiers created a gap in the otherwise endless line of folders on the other end. The faint whiff of blood I caught from their direction hinted at least one of them had been used recently.
Good. A full stomach tended to produce more level-headed vampires.
With the ominous heaviness permeating the space and drifting out onto the corridor where Elena and I stood before Kaatz’s open door, I had a suspicion the man himself needed the advantage. I cleared my throat, but he remained seated in his executive leather chair, half of his tall frame submerged in the afternoon light streaming through the window, the other half shrouded in shade. If the man was at all bothered by the sun shining straight into one of his multi-hued brown eyes, he certainly didn’t show it.
Actually, I wondered if he was aware of anything beyond whatever shit was clogging his mind.
“Sir?” I prompted a bit louder, daring to set one foot beyond the threshold.
Kaatz snapped out of his statue-like state and slid his gaze towards two chairs set up across the desk from him.
Elena and I obliged.
A confidential folder rested beneath his fingers, the edges frayed as if he’d fumbled them in agitation over and over. Kaatz’s natural state was grumpy, but I’d never truly seen his nerves get the better of him. I fought the impulse to shift in my chair as the seconds stretched on.
Elena, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky.
She wi
nced as the leather creaked beneath her butt, and just a touch of her omnipresent magic curled through the air, more potent than the errant vines I’d become accustomed to.
Kaatz must have sensed it as well, because he tapped the folder once, then interlaced his fingers atop it. “I called you up here because of all the agents, you currently spend the most time out in the field.”
Well, that certainly confirmed Elena’s earlier statement that my schedule was about to get fucked up in the near future.
“I’ve already discussed this with several others,” Katz continued, mercifully oblivious to my brief scowl, “but can’t put out a general notice since the Inspector General doesn’t want word spreading around and possibly reaching the wrong ears.”
The tip of my sneaker hit the desk as I flinched. “You think we have a mole in ICRA?”
“What kind of word?” Elena asked almost at the same time.
Kaatz ignored her and said to me, “No, I don’t think we have a mole. But some of our finest can get loose-lipped after a few rounds in the pub. And loud enough to be overheard.”
Ah, that would be Bren and his buddies. Excellent company. Unfortunately, they tended to forget they weren’t the only supes out there who could easily listen in to conversations meant to be private.
“There has been a string of murders across Germany,” Kaatz explained, now addressing us both. The tight skin around his eyes revealed there were entire depths to that sentence we would never get, but the man knew all too intimately. “I’m not at liberty to give you any particulars, but I wanted to stress that if you come across any vampire victims, don’t call it in. Contact me directly and immediately.”
“You mean”—Elena pitched forward—“hand the case over?”
“Yes.”
Both Elena and I blew out a breath. If we weren’t even allowed to investigate, then shit really was serious.
I crossed one foot over the other and leaned back. “Do you have reason to believe the vampire will strike in Munich?”
“There is no pattern so far. But it seems the murderer is drawn to cities, so we need to be on our guard.”
“All right.” I glanced at Elena who sported a sharp expression on her face I was pretty certain my own mirrored to a T. “I have two days off right now, but I’ll be on the lookout nonetheless. If anything shows up, you’ll be the first to know, sir.”
A curt nod was all the dismissal we got.
As we piled back into the elevator and well away from Kaatz’s hearing, I turned to Elena. “Is this standard procedure? For them to pull rank?”
I’d worked enough cases by now to get a basic hang of things, but while there were instances of one agent transferring their case to another, the sweep-the-rug-from-under-your-feet approach was usually reserved for dealing with other law enforcement, not within our own ranks.
She chewed on her lower lip, shook her head, then pushed her disobedient hair away from her face. “Not standard. If Kaatz is answering straight to the Inspector General… Balsinger never oversees cases, let alone works them. Not unless it’s something big.”
“Hard to imagine that would cover a murderous vamp.” An ugly thought slithered through my mind. “Do you think it has anything to do with the traditional movement? A revival of the one that had risen before the War?”
Trepidation crawled down my spine at the thought. My former boss at the Zentrum, Schultz, had been among those who still believed in the traditional ways, in the superiority of supernaturals. I’d worked under him for years and never had any idea he was one of those fucks. Not until he wanted to murder Nathaniel Vidmar, my brothers’ friend and head of the Human-Supe Coalition, just to prevent a damn bill that brought supes even more out into the light than we already were.
He even had his own little circle of friends parading as pro players to help him achieve the goal.
If they existed, then what was to say there weren’t more sympathizers out there?
Elena watched the floors blink by on the black display, her blue eyes haunted. “I sure hope not. I was among those first supes who stood with humans when the War hit. Definitely not something I wish to relive.”
Quickly, I squeezed her hand then let go. “It probably isn’t that anyway. I’m sure if we were dealing with someone wanting to revive the old agenda, we’d have nearly all of ICRA out looking for them.”
Much to my surprise, there was a ring of truth to the words.
“You know what”—I shot her a sly smile—“for once I think I’m going to take my own advice and leave the job in the office. Two days off, my friend. I intend to use them.”
She chuckled. “Enjoy your freedom while it lasts, Freundenberger.”
My freedom consisted of beer, pizza, and Alec’s company. An excellent combo by any standards. The Paulaner slid down my throat with familiar ease, mingling with the taste of my favorite pizza. Alec was silent by my side on the couch, munching on another slice and watching the American movie dubbed into German with slightly arched eyebrows. I, on the other hand, spent my time watching him.
The action flick he was so immersed in I’d seen years ago. It wasn’t awful, far from it, but after getting away from violence, it seemed just plain bad form to watch it on TV now. Besides, my best friend was a far more entertaining sight.
Alec’s gaze flickered over to me once he caught on to my staring. “What?”
I shook my head and ran a hand through his unruly brown hair, then leaned back and tucked my bare feet beneath me. “You do know that we’re basically like a couple of old people. It’s”—I pressed the button on my cell, illuminating the screen—“seven p.m., and we’re in our jammies.”
Actually, the sun that had scattered the last of the clouds was still out, seeping through the thin curtains we’d drawn to give us at least an illusion of evening.
Alec looked down at his blue-and-white checkered pajama shorts, then gave me a quizzical look. “But they’re comfy.”
I grinned.
Yeah, they really were. My own matching pair proved as much.
“It’s not that I’m complaining, just…observing.” I snagged another slice of pizza from the box, mindful that it didn’t drip tomato sauce all over the place, then curled up closer to him.
Alec draped his arm over my shoulders. “Would you rather be out there having sex?”
Nearly choking on a bit of mushroom, I pulled away. It took several mouthfuls of Paulaner for the coughing to subside.
“You do know this is Lotte Freundenberger you’re talking to, right?”
“Precisely my point.”
I scrunched my nose at his demanding stare. “Then you very well know that fun-loving Lotte went on a vacation for an indefinite amount of time when she met Afanasiy.”
The demon who could have been my mate. The demon I could have shared every aspect of my life with. Had wanted to.
If the asshole hadn’t revealed where his true loyalties lay.
It sure as fuck wasn’t with me.
Alec sat up straighter and snatched the can from my hands. “Did you speak with him lately?”
“Nope. And I don’t expect to anytime soon.” I shrugged. “I made my choice when I walked out the door five months ago.” Turning my back on his liege and him. “Afanasiy more than clearly made his, too.”
I might have harbored hope he’d show up on my doorstep during those first weeks, realized that the damn honor he claimed was so bloody important couldn’t coexist with his actions as they’d been. But life rolled on, missions came and went. No Afanasiy.
Mercifully, no Raya, either, though that was a piss-poor consolation.
Especially when I’d had a few distant run-ins with her demons, spying on me like creeps.
“It still fucking hurts, Alec.” I stole the can back, took a long sip, then returned it. “Even after months, it hurts.”
His warmth wrapped around my skin as he drew me to him in a half embrace. “You sure a bit of release wouldn’t help with that? I could be
your wingman.”
I snorted and punched him lightly in the chest. “Like I’d need a wingman. Unfortunately, the only person I’m even remotely interested in sleeping with these days is Melina. But I don’t think she’s in the proper mindset for a bit of fun.”
Not after being nearly bludgeoned to death by a scorned demon.
My stomach clenched at the memory, and I chased the unpleasant sensation away with more beer.
“What about you?” I gave him a small half smile. “I know why I’m an old hag with cobwebs in her vagina, but what’s your excuse?”
He shifted on the couch, then wolfed down a slice of pizza, shrugged, and stuffed another in his mouth. One of the most desperate evasive techniques I’d ever seen.
“Spill it.” I nudged him with a foot before bringing my leg underneath me again. “We don’t keep secrets, Alec.”
“Says the ICRA agent.”
I clicked my tongue, then corrected myself. “We don’t keep personal secrets.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just…” He wiped his fingers on a paper napkin before crumpling it in his fist. “I’m not even sure how I feel.”
In all the time I’d known Alec, he’d never had an issue with his partners. Unless… “This isn’t just casual attraction, is it?”
“No.” A bit of thin white paper fluttered into his lap. “It’s more than just that, though.”
At my raised eyebrow, he let out a long exhale and threw away the napkin before he could shred it into bits.
“Ah, shit…” He shook his head, a mirthless laugh rolling off his lips. “It’s Jaxon.”
3
Hearing the name of the rock star Australian coach who’d joined our ranks this past winter stunned me right into silence.
Jaxon? Alec and Jaxon?
My mind provided a whole marching band of memories featuring the pair, but before I could scrutinize them and figure out just how I managed to remain completely oblivious to something of such caliber, Alec said, “He’s bisexual, so that’s not the problem. But…I always believed I was straight. I mean”—he thrust both hands into his hair, wringing the disobedient strands back—“I never gave men a second thought. Not anything sexual, you know? They never…did it for me. But I think… I think— Lotte, I think I might be attracted to Jaxon.”