The Sigma Menace Collection

by Marie Johnston

  Mind blank, the decadent taste of him still on her tongue, she watched the dust cloud kicked up as he drove away.

  Chapter 4

  “Dude, quit being a pussy.”

  Mercury was an asshole. Bennett ground his teeth together and flipped off his partner. Their functioning emergency doctor, Garreth, was extracting the bullet with what felt like a pair kitchen tongs. The pain was a welcome diversion from the haze of lust and dismay he’d been in when he arrived.

  Mercury came to brief him, while Commander Fitzsimmons had a nice little chat with the recruit from the trap. The other bodies were smoldering in their fire pit, but the marshmallows would have to wait.

  “There we are.” Doc Garreth flung the bullet in the garbage. He set about wiping off Bennett’s leg and slapping a bandage on while he gave instructions. “Drink water, have a big steak, and leave the bandage on for at least a few hours so you don’t bleed all down your leg.”

  “See ya, Doc. Thanks.” Bennett trashed his pants and threw on one of the many pairs of shorts stashed around the lodge, handy with injuries and the after-shift nakedness.

  Giving a little wave as he hobbled out with Mercury, Bennett mused how his leg had hurt less when he showed up than it did after he was treated. Doc Garreth was indispensable, though. Before Mercury rescued him from Sigma’s compound, the Guardians did their own down and dirty emergency surgery. The pain might be the same, but recovery was now faster.

  “Any info yet? Or are you just following me because you like my ass in these shorts?” Bennett asked Mercury, heading to the kitchen. Missing lunch and losing blood were making him cranky. It had nothing to do with the scent and flavor of his luscious little mate lingering on his lips and his clothing.

  “You have a nice ass, but I’m following you because I want to know what’s wrong.”

  “What’s wrong is her.”

  Entering the kitchen, he went straight for the fridge to dig meat out.

  “It’s your turn to cook tonight,” Mercury informed him, folding his arms over his chest, watching Bennett.

  Fuck! He forgot. Growling, he dug out more steak.

  “Spill it.” Mercury wasn’t going to give up.

  “I kissed her.”

  “No way!”

  Mercury’s shocked expression made Bennett feel better. He knew his friend would understand. He hadn’t kissed anyone since Abigail. She had ruined intimacy for him. Hell, ruined women. They were of no use to him except to scratch the itch. He turned on the charm to lure them in and then let them go after he got what he needed. No drama, no fuss.

  Mercury jumped in to help prepare the meal, probably taking pity on Bennett hobbling around, wanting to talk with him more before the others showed up to eat.

  “She’s not Abigail.”

  “No shit. Abigail wouldn’t have picked up a gun, much less blown someone away.”

  Spencer had saved his ass. Sure, he would’ve recovered from another bullet wound, after his team dragged his sorry butt out of there. But then to her, he would’ve been dead. He wasn’t going to examine his feelings too closely at the possibility of having to stay away from her, or even worse, tell her what he really was.

  “Just sayin’,” Mercury said. “Might not be a bad thing that Spencer can do that.”

  “She’s hiding something and we don’t know who she is.” Bennett didn’t want to entertain the idea of actually taking this mating business seriously.

  “Well, proceed with caution. But don’t write her off because she’s human.”

  “Do you charge per hour, Dr. Phil?”

  “You’re a dick. Want me to throw her in the holding cell like you did with Dani?”

  Bennett growled at the idea. Mercury was making a point, and yeah, maybe he did that to the male’s mate, but he had good reason thinking she was a Sigma Agent at the time.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Bennett ignored Mercury, and after he finished grilling and devouring a couple of steaks, he left to find their young shifter Guardian, Parrish. Mercury had rescued him from Madame G’s clutches several months ago, at the same time he broke Doc Garreth out, but the male still didn’t talk. Bennett could go for hanging out with a mute right about now.

  In the game room, sitting in front of the Xbox as usual, Parrish was absorbed in a Call of Duty mission. Perfect. Grabbing a controller, Bennett flopped on the couch next to the pale-haired male who automatically set up a two-player game so they could both get their kill on.

  After an hour, or three, Parrish abruptly stopped the game. Without turning to Bennett, he signed, You need to go to that club.

  “Pale Moonlight?”

  Maybe Parrish heard about the club from the Guardians, but he certainly wasn’t old enough to visit. It was the last place Bennett wanted to hang out right now, even though it should be the first place he went full of so much emotional turmoil. “Why?”

  Just feel like you should go.

  “And do what?” Bennett asked, while his fingers tersely snapped the words off while signing. There was nothing wrong with the kid’s hearing, but it was easier to stay fluent if they signed in return. It was unlike the teenaged male to be pushy. Sullen and withdrawn, absolutely. Not pushy.

  The boy just shrugged, giving Bennett the impression that he really didn’t know. A wave of relief went through Bennett. He wasn’t so far gone that even Parrish wanted him to go bang females until he felt better. Not that he wouldn’t like to release himself into a willing female’s body. However, there was just one female on his mind and he wouldn’t be tangling with that filly any time soon.

  For now, a little virtual battle and maybe a Die Hard marathon would have to do.

  Bass reverberated through Bennett’s skull. He let it wash through him, hoping it would take some of his aggression with it on its way out. He’d spent the last few weeks getting nagged by a mute teenager to go to the damn club.

  Getting more and more wound up each day wasn’t helping. He stayed far away from Spencer’s land and hadn’t ventured to town for a little sexual healing. He didn’t dwell too long about the reason why, but it certainly wasn’t because he would feel like a gigantic jackass to be with other women while his alleged mate was only miles away. That absolutely wasn’t the reason. He gave everything to his first mate and almost lost more. Fool me once, Bennett thought bitterly.

  Unfortunately, Halo, Call of Duty, action flicks, and extreme training only went so far. Working off his hostility in the training center helped, especially since Kaitlyn and Jace were now fully trained Guardians. He could take on both of them and sometimes get his ass handed to him so well that he spent a blissful afternoon recovering without feeling like he was going to implode.

  But here he was at Pale Moonlight. Two women, regulars, had already asked him if he was heading to The Den. Shit, had he taken them more than once? That showed how clouded his thinking had been in the past year if he violated rule number one—sex with the same woman more than once in the same night was okay, but never, ever again after that. Otherwise they started getting ideas. The word “relationship” began to taint their thinking.

  At least rule number two was safe. Always from behind. No touching, no kissing, and definitely no embracing. Bennett didn’t want arms twined around his neck or legs wrapped around his waist, just needed to work them from behind and help them get the hell out so he could start again with a new girl.

  The old system he and Mercury and Mason had developed worked really well. The late Guardian warmed up the ladies with the touchy-feely stuff and after he released himself he handed them over to Bennett and Mercury. Then Dani came into Mercury’s life and he dropped down like a two-hundred and thirty-pound ball of whipped male for the woman. Bennett suspected his odd friend would’ve been toast even if Dani hadn’t shown up pregnant with his child from a Sigma insemination meant to deliver Madame G her very own shifter baby. In fact, Mercury even said he was enthralled with the human before he caught the scent of his young within
her.

  Why the evil Madame G needed her taint on a baby, they hadn’t figured out yet. While the Guardians were working on that, they investigated why Mason betrayed his own pack, and to figure out if the betrayal went as deep at the Lycan Council, the ruling body of shifter kind.

  The twins, Malcolm and Harrison, went north to investigate the council, while the others stayed in West Creek to focus on taking down Madame G and her chapter of Sigma. Shifters would never win the battle over the Sigma menace if their own governing body was causing festering wounds within the packs themselves.

  It sucked the twins had to go. They weren’t pillars of personality; Harrison barely talked and was extremely touchy, but he worked well with Malcolm’s magnetism and charm. Which attracted the females both he and his brother enjoyed, often together.

  Bennett hung his head down staring into the amber depths of his Belgian ale, remembering how he’d been successfully dealing with his emotional baggage by getting his head examined by Jace’s human mate, Cassie. The woman was a psychologist, and after mating with Jace, her natural talent blossomed into something more powerful. Yet, she wasn’t strong enough to heal Bennett’s damage. So one night, when he stumbled into the club’s back bathroom and found Malcolm thrusting into a girl from behind, while his brother was sitting on the counter getting head from her, well…Bennett found a new system that worked for him. Even better, Malcolm did the footwork, finding willing bodies, freeing Bennett from practicing his false charm.

  But the twins had been gone for months and now Bennett had ninety-nine problems and a woman was definitely number one.

  “’Bout time you came in.” Christian Williams slid onto the bar stool next to Bennett and faced him.

  The tall, dark shifter was not only the owner of Pale Moonlight, but pack leader of the shifters employed at the club. Most of the shifters were rejects from other packs, lost souls who found their way to Christian and into his motley crew. The club served to provide not only employment, but catered to the increased sexual needs of the unmated in their species. Bonus, the increased shifter traffic sometimes brought mates together.

  Scowling at the thought of mates, Bennett redirected his attention to the intimidating male next to him and lifted an eyebrow. “Been looking for me? I know, I’m a stud, but you’re taken.”

  Christian snorted. “Mabel wouldn’t care if you were a guy, she’d kick my ass, and then yours if I even thought of checking you out.”

  True. Mabel was tiny, but Bennett wouldn’t cross her. Christian might rule the club, but she ruled him, and Bennett suspected Christian was just fine with that. In the years they’d been in West Creek, he’d seen enough women and men, both shifter and human, drawn to the muscular male with smooth, dark skin and mesmerizing black eyes. The austere owner blew them off, always, and if they kept bothering him, then he cut his mate loose on their sorry ass. After that, it was end of story.

  “What’s up?” Bennett was curious now. If Christian had pertinent intel to pass on, he usually notified the commander.

  Christian leaned back against the bar, resting his elbows on the surface, facing the crowd. Tilting his head, he aimed his voice toward Bennett, speaking low. The male had the handy ability of throwing his voice so only those who he intended could hear. Speaking quietly in a loud club to a shifter with heightened hearing didn’t work because all shifters in the club had heightened senses.

  “One of my pack that works here caught on to a Sigma spy who keeps coming in. A guy, a young and preppy human, keeps asking weird questions to the girls he hits on.”

  “Like what?”

  Christian scanned the crowd again, his black eyes almost shimmering. “You sit there and look all pretty and let me talk.”

  Bennett set his mouth in a hard line and resisted rolling his eyes. Pack leaders were major assholes.

  “First, he’ll ask questions to determine if the girl is a shifter or not. That always sends up warning flags and I turn the guy over to Rhys.” Christian and the commander had formed a tight working relationship. The Guardians would use the information to negate any threats to their kind and do it in a way that didn’t lead back to the club so Sigma spies kept coming in.

  “If the girl’s human, he moves on. But if she’s a shifter, he keeps on with the questions, all suave-like, trying to find out their parent’s names, where they’re from, if they have any siblings.”

  Bennett flashed Christian a droll look. The questions were odd only in that the club was a place to hook up and this guy seemed to be looking for lasting love.

  Christian pinned Bennett with a dark stare. “Check the attitude, Guardian. I’m getting to the good stuff.” Casting his gaze around the room he continued. “All the women have the same look—petite and fair. Dude never takes them to the back, only wants to talk. We’ve kept an eye on him and noticed the women jerk their arm back at least once after he touches them. That’s when my guy noticed the ring.”

  Okay, now the story was picking up.

  “After each girl, the ring changes, sometimes color, sometimes design, like he switches it, but we haven’t actually seen confirmation. Then he whips out his phone like he’s texting, but one of our servers got a peek and saw he was making notes of all the information he’d gathered.”

  Bennett was about to ask one of the twenty questions he had, when he got silenced by glittering black eyes.

  “I know you’re bursting with questions, and I’m getting to it.” Christian shook his head. “Man, why couldn’t Rhys have come in first. Dude lets me finish. Here it is. He’s definitely looking for a particular woman. No, we don’t know if he’s Sigma, but my guess is yes. Yes, he still comes in, but hasn’t in several days. Of course I’ll give you his description.”

  You need to find her. The words echoed in Bennett’s head as surely as he heard them spoken again by the supposedly deranged young man hiding in a psych ward. The Guardians had tried to gather information from him a few months ago. The guy claimed Sigma was after his sister. He had stared directly at Bennett when informing them they need to find the mystery woman before Sigma killed her.

  “Word is, he’s not the only one hunting a woman.” Christian was full of information tonight. “One of the bouncers at one of the other clubs in Freemont heard some women chatting about getting hit on by a hot guy who did nothing but ask questions.”

  Bennett let the information sink in as he gazed across the bar counter, using the mirror behind the bottles to scan the club behind him. So, they were trolling the whole area and if they’ve deployed that many spies, then they knew she was here, but didn’t know who she was either. Regardless, Sigma knew more than Bennett.

  Well, it was time to hit the town.

  Chapter 5

  I don’t want to go in. Spencer sat in her truck outside of the country western bar her acquaintance arranged to meet her at.

  The young woman Spencer had gotten to know owns a small store with her husband that sells homemade goods in West Creek. They were looking to add locally grown seasonal produce and Spencer was working hard to get recruited by them. It would be the perfect set-up. A secure client to sell to, who could mediate between her and the public, without Spencer putting her face out there. She could create a steady income and remain mostly anonymous.

  But first, she had to go into this place. A public place, with loud music that would dull her senses, with all kinds of strangers bumping into her and even worse, noticing her.

  With a resigned sigh, Spencer opened the door of her beat-up farm truck and slid out. Her cowboy boots made minimal noise on the concrete walk leading up to the popular bar and grill in West Creek called Boots Up. There was no debate between boots or heels, or boots with heels. Spencer was not only a country girl, but a smart girl, and heels were beetle dung for running. Paired with her worn jeans and purple plaid top, she would either integrate superbly or be horribly out of place.

  Spencer paused just inside the door to take in the scene and gather her wits. This was so far
out of her comfort zone.

  Rustic chic was the theme with wood as far as the eye could see. Wooden beams lined the walls and ceiling, lacquered logs for tables and wooden booths sat on top of a polished cherry wood floor.

  As for the social scene, Spencer noted everything from her own style of dress, some with cowboy hats, to slinky dresses and tight leggings. Perfect. Blending in was pertinent and this would do. The crowd seemed to lean toward couples and groups. Even better.

  “Hey Spencer, you made it!” Her friend Constance bounded up to meet her, calling Spencer by her real name. Her parents had said that under different circumstances, they would’ve named her Sarah. Since a girl named Spencer attracted more attention and unwanted questions, she usually just went by Sarah for casual acquaintances. Since she didn’t have anything more than casual relationships, almost no one knew her real name.

  Except for Bennett, the frustrating Guardian. And now Constance and her husband. She worried her desperation for a connection to society was making her careless.

  Constance Smythe and her husband, Mark, were five or so years older than Spencer, she’d guess thirtyish. The couple had embraced the locally grown, organic, no-GMO, no additives, all natural lifestyle, and were currently spurring enthusiasm from the community to make their living providing the qualified products.

  Spencer wove through the bar, following Constance to a booth where her husband waited. They spent the next couple of hours chatting about the produce Spencer could grow, the timeline of her stock, and prices. Spencer nailed it thanks to the ’shrooms. Not recreational, not therapeutic, but to put on salad and in spaghetti sauce—button and cremini mushrooms. They weren’t hard to grow, just a little tedious.

  The mushrooms would kick-start her growing season, with her herbs, until the bigger produce started coming in. Constance and Mark were impressed with Spencer’s knowledge and confidence in her products and the growing season. Spencer easily played it up like it had always been her family’s way of life, something she’d grown up doing. It was…sort of true. Natural talent filled in the rest. A natural talent with nature not many humans could claim. Spencer used it carefully, but shamelessly.