“Just sayin’, boss,” Malcolm drawled, “the council is asking about a shifter female who’s a romance author. The vampires got some information from a vampire female a while back that her son was obsessed with an author who might be a shifter. Now that son has been dusted by Guardians and they want our council to answer for it.”
“We took out a vampire who kidnapped and attacked one of our mates.”
Malcolm cocked an eyebrow at the commander. “That’s your story and you’re sticking to it?”
Rhys spread his hands. “Don’t know what else they’d be looking for.”
“All right. Tell Irina to change her pen name and genre, maybe take a hiatus, just in case.”
“I’ll pass it on, if she’s secretly an author. Is that official council advice?” The question was loaded and they both knew it.
“I’m just the messenger, boss.”
“Are you?” Rhys worried the twins defected. Without telling him. Worried they were swayed by their parentage into whatever machinations the council had going on; that their father, a long-standing council member, tasked them with spying on their pack to report back to the council.
“Now Commander Fitzsimmons, just because we don’t call home every day doesn’t mean we don’t ever plan on coming back.”
Rhys read through the teasing tone. Whatever Malcolm and Harrison were working on was taking longer than planned. But they were still part of the pack. The males were the youngest Guardians under him, aside from Jace and Kaitlyn, but the private nature of the twins had always kept them distant.
“We might have a…situation…we may need you to come back for. Soon.”
Malcolm sobered. “We’ll be there, just tell us when and where.”
Good. Only Rhys knew about the information Parrish gave Dane. He planned to meet with the other Guardians and let them in on it, but for now he needed to sit on it. Agent X has kept the secret of who she is for over twelve years and Rhys didn’t want to risk it. Didn’t want to risk her. Son of a bitch. He was screwed.
“Mabel,” Jace crooned, “sorry it’s been so long.”
“You bet it’s been a long time.”
Jace settled back at his kitchen table with a grin, keeping the phone at his ear waiting out the ass chewing Mabel was giving him. He had no excuses. While he’d wanted to keep in touch with his old pack leaders, Christian and his mate Mabel, life with the Guardians kept him busy. Every free moment he had, he spent with Cassie, usually settled deeply inside her if he had any say, and most of the time he did.
“You’re lucky I remember what it’s like to be newly mated,” Mabel finally finished her tirade.
“I knew you’d understand, Mabel. Maybe we should meet you two for supper sometime.”
“Let’s do next weekend. But first we need to give you some information.” Mabel’s voice turned serious and Jace knew he’d better listen up. “There was a male here looking for you. Didn’t say why, just that he was from Great Moon Colony.”
Jace frowned. His old clan? Some packs lived in town and didn’t fall under the rule of a clan. The clans that still existed were made up of several packs. They existed as their own entity, but followed the council’s rules religiously. His mother had packed up him and his sister after a Sigma attack killed his father and older brother. Since then, they’d had nothing to do with his former clan.
Jace hadn’t belonged to a pack until he got out of prison and found himself in Pale Moonlight applying for a job. Pale Moonlight was a club that many shifters frequented and used to fuel their need for pack mentality and increased sex drives. The employees belonged to Christian’s pack and were like Jace, aimless and alone.
It was the best damn move Jace had ever made in his life. Tending bar led him to Cassie, and that led him to working for the Guardians, a worthier endeavor than he ever thought would be granted to him. So why the fuck was someone from his old colony searching for him?
________
Agent E was once a family man. What side will he chose once he learns his wife is in danger? Find out in Lawful Claim.
Thank you for reading my story. I’d love to know what you thought. Please consider leaving a review at the retailer you purchased the novella from.
Marie
Lawful Claim
The Sigma Menace Book 4
Lawful Claim
Copyright © 2015 by Lisa Elijah
Copyediting by EbookEditingServices.com
Second Edition Editing by The Killion Group
Cover by Mayhem Cover Creations
The characters, places, and events in this story are fictional. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are coincidental and unintentional.
Created with Vellum
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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To Melissa.
I will keep paying my bestie, and favorite beta reader, in coffee and pictures of shirtless hotties.
Chapter 1
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-h
ued 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 his 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, shov
ing 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.”
The Sigma Menace Collection Page 55