by Jaycee Clark
“Did we?” She didn’t remember him, or didn’t think she did.
He smiled slowly. “Yeah, we did.”
She tilted her head. “Did we get the bad guy?”
“Yes, we did.” His gaze stayed locked on hers.
A tingle of awareness swirled down her spine. She frowned.
Erik cleared his throat. “Now that the introductions are out of the way.”
She glanced at Erik and shook her pounding head. “Luv, what have you cooked up now?”
He glared at her. Erik rarely glared at anyone. Reen wondered what she’d done to aggravate him. Then again, she normally did very little.
Without another word, Reen sat in the chair. Her head hurt, her arm throbbed where one of the target’s guards had caught her with a knife toss.
She rolled her shoulder, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Still applying pressure to the wound on the side of her scalp—thanks to the target and his sword—she merely said, “Get on with it, Erik. You obviously worry I won’t like it or you’d have already spit it out, then.”
She could sense it, hostility in the air. And it wasn’t hers.
Still she didn’t open her eyes. Instead, she shoved the pain away and thought of light. Light a pale pink, tinged in blue. Light soothed her, the colors of twilight calmed her more than anything.
With her eyes closed she could smell Saker even more, outdoors and…something dark. Saker. Now that she thought about it, maybe she did remember him. He was with the undercover team. Or was he? She had heard about him. Saker and Company did freelance work. Mercenary. He was some sort of bird shifter—falcons.
She had no use for falcons. Anger swirled through her, but she pushed it aside. Falcons—in her opinion—were very unreliable.
Erik cleared his throat again. “We’ve got a problem,” he said finally.
“Usually do,” she muttered.
He sighed. She knew the sound of Erik’s sighs. The way so much emotion could be in one little sound. Anger, frustration, resignation. His was currently a mixture of all three.
“Luv, just spit it out.”
“Would you stop calling him that?” the other man asked.
She slowly opened her eyes to see Saker looking at her from across the small sitting area. He did not sit. He was leaning against the chair, his arms crossed. His voice was even timbred, deeper than she would have thought.
“Why?” she asked.
He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, and turned a look onto Erik. If she hadn’t been watching, she would have missed it. But Saker’s eyes turned from black to a dark green glow.
She glanced to Erik, whose eyes hadn’t changed. As always he was calm, or appeared so.
“Look, we might have worked together before. But you obviously didn’t leave an impression on me. I don’t know who you are, but I do know that Erik and I go way back. I can call him luv, Erik or dickhead if I so choose, none of which you have any say in. And I really need to get going if that’s all.”
What the hell was going on?
“Sit down,” Saker said, not looking at her.
She walked to him and poked him in the chest until he looked at her, her own power, so recently used, still close to the surface. She felt the heat tingle along her fingers. “I don’t know who you think you are, Saker, but—”
Those glowing green eyes swung back to her and stilled.
Something in them made her pause…
“Reen,” Erik said on a sigh, “please sit down. We’ve got a serious problem and we all have to work together. You’re not the only one pulled off an assignment. Higher ups than me have asked that you two work together.”
It was her turn to cock a brow. “What do you mean, higher than you? You mean she asked for the two of us,” she motioned between her and Saker, “to work together on some problem?”
Erik took a deep breath, nodded and raked a hand through his hair. “Yes. In a manner of speaking.”
She rolled her eyes. “Erik, cut through. What’s the bloody problem?”
“The higher up’s daughter. She’s missing. And Navalovich’s pulled in all the best. That’s you two.”
“I said, no, Erik,” Saker said.
She glanced to the man and shook her head. Very few told Erik no. Whatever history he and Erik had, she didn’t care.
Erik’s words sunk in. “Oleana is missing?”
Oleana was Navalovich’s daughter. Alexandra Navalovich, founder of the Hunters and very quiet about her role as their supporter with the governments. The reason for her secrecy, she had a family and didn’t want them harmed.
“Who?” she asked.
“We think she might be the latest target of a person only known as the Treasure Collector. It’s possible and we’re investigating every possibility.”
Treasure Collector?
“I said no, Erik,” Saker repeated.
Her mind was already sifting through what she knew of the Treasure Collector, which wasn’t much.
“Isn’t he also known simply as the Collector? Missing rare shifters or something?” She thought she remembered reading something about him in one of the files.
“Saker,” Erik warned.
“No.”
She turned on Saker. “Fine. You said no. There’s the fucking door.”
Leana. Her mind crashed through with memories of her friend. They’d met at the training academy as young girls and had always been close. The cat shifter, a white tiger. Rare even as supernaturals went, Leana had a lot of power. Her mother was also one, but Reen had no idea about Leana’s father.
“How do we know it’s the Collector?” Maybe they were wrong.
Erik sighed and waited until she looked at him. “He’s a blot on the books. People want him. They want the man found. He’s elusive as smoke or has been in the past. But there are too many women shifters, rare descendants, who have vanished from similar circumstances. No bodies are found, but missing is missing. And someone is taking them.”
“And you don’t believe in coincidences.”
He only arched a brow.
“When?” she asked, pacing.
“Three days ago.”
“And Navalovich is just now getting to this?” Anger swirled in her, her fingers tingling even more.
“Now, Reen. Leana is as old as you. She’s a grown woman, with her own life. It was just when she didn’t show up for a meeting with her mother that Navalovich started looking. And then she realized and pieced things together.”
Reen shook her head. “Three days? Do you have any idea what could have happened in three days?”
“Which is why I jerked you off the job you were currently on.”
“You could have said that to begin with.”
She paced away, forgetting about the wound on her head, and walked the length of his office.
“We have discovered that the Treasure Collector is a collector of the worst kind.”
“Of anything specific?” Saker shifted his weight.
Erik sighed. “Women. Girls. He likes female shifters. The rarer the better. We think he took or had her taken because…well, Oleana is one of seven registered Siberian tiger shifters. Before her, there’s a missing file on both a cheetah and a jaguar from early summer. The cheetah just went missing this fall.”
A collector.
“When did you learn this?” she asked. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed that Saker was glaring into the fireplace, watching the flames dance.
Pissed at the rude man, either because he rubbed her wrong, or just because he was of the useless Falcon order, she let her power flow over her and into the fire. It leapt out at him and licked his hand.
He slowly turned and cocked a brow at her.
Arrogant.
One corner of his mouth lifted on a grin.
“We’ve traced him to a club in Grubsretep.”
“Which club?”
He didn’t answer her.
“Which club?” she asked again,
pulling her attention from Saker to Erik.
Erik rubbed his forehead. “Bindings.” He shrugged. “We think. From previous reports on him, he seems to hop from club to club. We’re not certain who he is. He might be a worker in these places, a patron, or an owner. So we’re now investigating.”
“And how many other shifting women disappearances have been labeled as his?”
“Not certain again. Could be as few as half a dozen, or worst, more than three dozen.”
She could only stare at him. “Three dozen?”
Again, he shrugged. “This is in the last twenty years. Frankly there’s been little known of him, so he’s never been a priority until now. People go missing. Some get killed, some vanish because they want to, Reen. But going with what intel is learning now of a man collecting rare breeds of shifters as a…hobby—for lack of a better word—it looks like he can be accredited several disappearances and possibly several deaths as well, probably his earlier works.”
She could only stare at him. “A serial? Is he human? Supernatural? Shifter? Vamp? Do we even know?”
He sighed and fell into his chair behind his desk. “Now that we have a place to start, and with this latest development, we’re setting up a team. Undercover all the way.”
She noticed he didn’t answer her questions. Then his words registered. Undercover team. “Good, when?”
He glanced for a minute towards Saker, then locked his gaze back on her. “As soon as we get everything in place.”
Blood ran down her forehead again and she wiped it away with a curse.
Erik frowned. “How much blood have you lost?”
She glanced at her shoulder, noted her pants were stiff with it where she’d constantly wiped her hand, her collar where it had dripped from her head. “I don’t know, does it matter?”
Saker cursed.
“What’s the plan?” She ignored the man.
Erik cleared his throat. “From the orders I received, we’re to go in—”
“We?” she asked.
He nodded and looked at the file on his desk. “Yes, we. You and I posing as a couple and he,” he said, motioning to Saker, “as your bodyguard.”
“Like hell,” Saker all but snarled.
Chapter Three
Saker tried to calm the emotions raging through him. But he knew he was doing a piss poor job of it. Damn it.
He looked again at her. Reen.
Cyzarine.
Once upon a time… He’d been known as a prince, and she’d been his.
No matter that he hadn’t wanted her, hadn’t answered her when she’d called to him years ago.
Never mind that the bind between them had been broken by his own father.
Now he was standing here. He’d worked with her, though from a distance, on another case a few months ago, which had led him to question his father.
Alive. She was alive and all but vibrating with life, even as he knew she dealt death as quickly and efficiently as an adder.
…you obviously didn’t leave an impression…
A muscle ticked in his jaw and he was pissed at the fact he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
Technically he had no claim on her. Hell, he’d been told she was dead. Had spent half his life blaming himself for a youth’s idiotic mistake.
He looked at her over his shoulder. Long and lithe, dressed in black tight enough nothing was left to the imagination, she was breathtaking and he couldn’t help but admire her. She was beautiful. Her skin reminded him of moonlight for some reason. The line of her jaw was a bit more square than most women he knew, but the fate’s knew that tilt of stubborn chin only mirrored her hardheadedness. Sleek black hair hit just beneath that stubborn chin. Her lips were wide and full, and already he’d had too many thoughts of what he could do with her mouth. Straight nose. Her eyes—he remembered those eyes the most. They sat beneath dark, delicate brows that winged over wicked eyes framed by thick dark lashes. Tilted at the corners, like a cat’s, her eyes held a strange golden hue he remembered, that had haunted his dreams and nightmares for years.
He remembered a child. A young girl who hadn’t liked him, a spoiled princess who could have cared less who he was.
He remembered her scream of terror even as he’d lain with another woman. But he’d shrugged it off, just a moment, just for a second, instead of going to her.
It had cost him the throne. Not only had his father answered her call, but he’d severed the bind and disinherited Saker.
Fine.
And she lived.
He took another breath, watched as she ignored him yet again and walked to Erik. Erik, a death caller, a nightwalker, a living dead. A fucking vamp.
Saker studied her even as she draped an arm around Erik’s neck and whispered in his ear, though Saker had no trouble hearing. “We’re going to be a couple? How fun. It’s been awhile since we got to play that role. Want a bite?”
“Reen,” Erik tried, his eyes turning an iridescent purple.
Saker knew Erik knew who he was, probably knew that they were—or had been—mated.
Saker still wanted to rip his fucking heart out.
He had no right to lay a claim on her, but he couldn’t help it. She was…
So damn alive.
Erik shook his head and reached for her arm, drawing it down. She merely smiled at him and kissed him on the mouth, traced Erik’s lips with her own, with her tongue. She reached, swiped at her still bleeding head and offered her bloody finger to Erik.
Saker was across the room quicker than he realized.
“What is your problem? Don’t like taking orders from women?” She stepped away from Erik, running her hand down over his chest as if straightening his shirt. The act seemed more intimate to Saker than the damn kiss.
“Depends on the woman and orders.”
She rolled her eyes and swayed, blinking. “Damn.”
Erik reached for her, but Saker already had her arm. They both held her. “I think maybe you should sit down. How much blood did you—” He saw then the dried blood coating her collar, noted it on her pants and realized he hadn’t noticed before because of the color of her clothing.
“You should be in the infirmary.”
“So he said.” She motioned to Erik. “Hate the smell of blood,” she muttered and slumped.
They both had hold of her and, for just a moment, she hung suspended between them.
Erik, a muscle twitching in his jaw, pulled her towards him. Saker didn’t let her go.
“She doesn’t know you,” Erik said, his voice gruff. “And if she did, she’d probably kill you.”
Saker took a deep breath and hearing the truth, let go.
Erik lifted her and laid her on the couch. “She hates the smell of blood. And do you know why, Saker?” he asked, brushing the dark black hair away from the side of her head to see the wound. “Do you?” He looked over his shoulder, his eyes still glowing.
Saker didn’t care. “No. Strange to hate the smell of something she’s so good at.”
Erik growled, and Saker saw the fangs peeking from his friend’s mouth. “She was supposed to have been a queen, you stupid fool.”
“I know that. And she was supposed to have been mine.”
Erik merely turned around and muttered under his breath. “She has no idea who you are. I can tell you this. She hates falcons. Thinks they’re useless. Doesn’t care for them. Or their kind. Your kind. Can’t imagine why she’d have that prejudice.”
“I didn’t kill her parents,” Saker snarled, leaning over her.
Erik slashed out with his hand and shoved him back. “No, but you sure as hell weren’t there for her either. If not for your father, she’d be dead. And where were you, I wonder? Little late to stake your claim now.”
Though the man was right, he couldn’t give up. Couldn’t just hand her over now that he knew who she was. “I’ll go to Navalovich.”
Erik shrugged. “Go, I don’t care. You think she’s going to take yo
ur side on this while her daughter’s life is at stake?” Erik cursed. “Bastard got her deep.” With that he picked her up and carried her out of the room. Saker started to follow them, but decided against it.
He listened as they left, cursing and then made his own decision. He knew his father, knew the man had been angry, and damned if the king wouldn’t have known all these years that Cyzarine lived. Saker wasn’t surprised his father had broken their bond, and he even understood the why behind it. Hell, he’d have done the same thing if a son of his hadn’t lived up to his obligations. Now, however, he wondered if there was anything he could do to change it all.
Without a doubt. One thing he knew. He wanted Reen and he had to have her.
Chapter Four
Erik watched her as Dr. Johnson looked her over. “This is deep. If she’d been mortal, it’d have killed her. A hair’s breadth deeper and he’d have split her skull.”
Erik crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He was tired of this job. But such was life, or his life.
He kept looking to the door. He knew Saker was still here, but at least he wasn’t in the room. Erik looked back at Reen and wondered what to do. He’d always respected Saker, at least what he’d heard of him. He knew Reen and Saker had previously worked on the same task force, though Saker was undercover, a few months ago.
Erik assumed, from Reen’s reaction, she had no idea of the previous partnership. He knew for certain the woman had no clue who Saker really was. Once she did? He sighed and rubbed his face.
There wasn’t a woman he respected more. He’d been in love with her since she first started her work for the Hunters. When they became lovers, he thought it might become more. But it took less than a month to realize that may never happen. Reen was the most guarded being he’d ever encountered, including himself. He knew her past, knew what happened to her. She was willing to share her body, even pieces of herself and her soul.
But he knew it would be a miracle if she ever gave herself completely.
So he’d do what he’d always done. He’d be here for her. It’s what he’d do regardless of how he felt for her. Saker might not like it, but Erik really didn’t give a damn. Saker hadn’t held her when she woke screaming from nightmares. Hadn’t calmed her when the past threatened to pull her under. Watched her when her job, the scent of blood, became too much and she shut down for days at a time.