Act of Surveillance: Paranormal Security and Intelligence® an Immortal Ops® World Novel (PSI-Ops/Immortal Ops Book 7)

by Mandy M. Roth

  “You don’t say,” he bit out in something close to a snarl before realizing she’d called him a stud.

  She clapped again. “Yay! You’re doing it.”

  That was it. If he didn’t get the hell out of the medical facility and far from everyone and their “help,” he was going to lose his shit. He’d be the next operative locked in his animal form and tucked away in a cell in the lower levels of a PSI facility.

  He paused his hand reps and contemplated surrendering himself to his bear side fully. It wouldn’t be that hard considering his lack of control as of late. For the past few nights, he’d been waking in a cold sweat with his hands partially shifted. This morning, he’d also found he’d shredded the bed at some point during his sleep.

  “Come on, you have to build the strength back in your hands,” said the physical therapist, giving him an encouraging nod as the overhead light created something of a halo effect around her head, making her look angelic.

  The irony of the devil being bathed in angelic lighting was not lost on him.

  He just wanted to work out on his own, heal by himself. He didn’t require her help, or anyone else’s.

  She’d been a constant source of irritation since he’d been moved to PSI Division B Headquarters six days ago. Prior to that, he’d spent just over a week in recovery at Savannah’s PSI branch facility. Of course, most of that time he’d been in a medically induced coma, which he almost preferred over dealing with Ms. Perky.

  He still wasn’t sure who he’d pissed off to get stuck with the world’s cheeriest “helper,” but it was evident he was being punished for something.

  The captain of Team Eight entered the room, his attention going right to the therapist.

  She was still smiling.

  “How is our patient?” Garth asked as he swung his gaze toward Rurik.

  “When did you get back from Savannah?” asked Rurik, as the rest of Team Eight, at last check, was temporarily in Georgia to help with issues PSI had been having there.

  Garth checked his watch. “About thirty minutes ago. A few of us caught a flight, along with Bill and Gus. I’m due to head back later tonight.”

  The Viking’s long blond hair was tied back at the nape of his neck and he was missing his trademark small braids. His hair was also a lot shinier than it had been when Rurik last saw him.

  Inhaling, Rurik smelled peaches, and his lip curled with a mix of a laugh and a disgusted grunt. “Your mate did something to your hair, didn’t she?”

  With a groan, Rurik’s commanding officer folded his arms across his chest and stood just a little taller, as if that would somehow make him look less like he was about to star in a shampoo commercial.

  It didn’t work.

  “No,” said Garth, his Scandinavian accent even thicker than usual. The once-feared wolf-shifter was now neutered.

  “Liar,” said Rurik, amused by his captain’s discomfort. “You’re shiny.”

  “Am not,” returned Garth.

  Mating seemed to be catching as of late, and Garth hadn’t been spared.

  Rurik watched his captain closely. “Nicolette with you?”

  “No. She’s staying down there with her uncle and Clara since this is just a day trip for me. I don’t like her traveling a lot while pregnant,” said Garth.

  Rurik laughed. “She’s not in her third trimester. I’m sure it’s fine.”

  Garth quirked a brow. “Since when do you know about trimesters and safe traveling for pregnant women?”

  Rurik shrugged. “I overheard Duke arguing about having to fly somewhere not long back. He tried to use the excuse that his mate is expecting to get out of flying.”

  “And?” asked Garth.

  “James told him it was fine. Gave him a lecture on it all. I was within earshot. Information stuck,” added Rurik.

  Garth seemed to mull it over. “I feel better having her close to Landros right now if I’m going to be stuck in meetings here most of the day. I’d worry about her if she were here at the house, alone, especially with everything that has been going on lately.”

  “Makes sense,” replied Rurik. “Uh, thank her for the cupcakes she sent me.”

  Garth’s eyes widened. “She sent you cupcakes? Did you eat them?”

  “I’m still alive, so no,” returned Rurik. “They smelled bad, erm, funny.”

  “They taste even worse,” warned Garth. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

  Rurik cleared his throat. “It was a nice…gesture.”

  Nicolette, Garth’s mate, had been yet another unfortunate victim of The Asia Project. She too had been tested on when she was little. The damn enemy’s experiments were still causing issues years later.

  Abruptly, the memory of the little girl who had hidden beneath his desk years ago filtered back to Rurik. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember the name the other children had called her. He did recall what he called her though—Little Paw.

  The slightest of smiles tugged at his mouth as he remembered the way she’d hooked her finger and summoned him closer, wanting the small stuffed bear, and how she’d clung to the Statue of Liberty figurine just as tightly as she’d clung to his neck.

  A pang of guilt moved through him at the reality that he’d not been able to totally fulfill his promise to her. He’d stayed with her while Blaise had worked on her wounds, taking extra time in hopes of minimizing scarring. Rurik had remained close to her as she’d eaten something and had then been taken by one of the women who worked in the medical wing to get cleaned up. He’d even been there when the little girl had nodded off later that night, exhausted, clutching the Statue of Liberty and the stuffed bear.

  Rurik had sat in a chair outside of the room, watching over the child. A number of other little ones had been in the room as well.

  The same little blonde girl who had caused issues and ended up in a knock-down drag-out scrimmage with the ink-haired one had tried to demand Rurik’s attention. She’d tugged at his pant leg at every chance and talked endlessly about nothing—making snide comments about the injury Little Paw had sustained. He hated to admit that she gave him a headache, but it was true.

  Despite it all, his concern and his focus had remained on Little Paw.

  That hadn’t gone over well with the other child, leading to a meltdown and a temper tantrum. He could still remember how quickly she’d gone from all smiles to hitting his leg and then throwing anything she could get her hands on. Her eyes had even begun to swirl with shades of yellow and orange—though he could detect no discernable traces of shifter in her.

  Rurik had allowed the tantrum to continue right up until she lunged for Little Paw. He’d intervened then, picking up the screaming and kicking child and taking her to the hallway, where he set her down and then proceeded to act much like the goalie in a soccer game as she attempted to reenter the room.

  Mercifully, Boomer and Gram had come to his rescue and helped to calm the blonde girl and had tried to convince Rurik to go. He didn’t budge. He’d stood guard there, making sure only operatives he trusted gained entrance to the room.

  He’d fully intended to stay near Little Paw for the duration of her time at headquarters, but an issue had come up, forcing him to join in with Team Five as they headed out on another mission. When he’d returned, he’d found the children had already been taken to the next stop on their road to recovery.

  Rurik had tried to find out where she and the other children had been sent to next, but those were chaotic times. A time when technology was good but not what it was now. A time when paper records were still the primary way things were handled. He’d sifted through endless mounds of paperwork, looking for clues or answers, to no avail.

  He’d even asked for help from operatives who were better with technology, but they’d come up empty as well in their hunt for details about the little ones. It was as if the children had simply vanished.

  Now, knowing far more about what had gone on back then, he understood why that was. Operatives in hig
h places within PSI knew better than to permit a trail leading to the children. It would have given the enemy a road map to them.

  As much as Rurik wished he knew if Little Paw was all right, he took some solace in the fact she’d been hidden away from those who would seek to do her more harm.

  At least that was his hope.

  Had she been taken in by someone who could be trusted? Someone who cared for her as she should have been cared for? Or had she fallen through the cracks like so many kids apparently had back then—when the infrastructure was overwhelmed and taxed by the sheer number of children they were bringing in?

  Had she ended up in the human foster care system or, worse yet, back in enemy hands?

  Rurik began drawing in quick, shallow breaths as a ringing started in his ears. The therapy room felt warmer than it had. Much warmer.

  Sweat beaded on his brow as nausea settled over him at the very idea the bastards who’d harmed Little Paw might have gotten their hands on her once again. His bear pushed up within him, wanting to be free, wanting to go on the hunt for her.

  Why was it so fucking hot in the room all of a sudden?

  “Romanov,” said Garth sternly, ripping Rurik from his thoughts.

  “Yes?”

  Garth eyed him closely. “Everything all right?”

  He inclined his head.

  “You sure?” questioned Garth. “Kind of seemed like you were having a panic attack. Can’t say that’s something I ever thought I’d say when talking about you.”

  “I had no such thing,” snapped Rurik, positive he now had sweat dripping down his spine.

  The therapist offered another wide smile. “Looked a lot like a panic attack in the making to me too.”

  “I didn’t ask you,” he said firmly.

  She smiled sweetly. “I know.”

  “Be nice,” snapped Garth.

  Rurik shot him a hard look, squeezing the damn ball more.

  “You’re doing great, aren’t you?” asked the therapist.

  He groaned.

  She smiled wider.

  How her face didn’t crack was a wonder to him.

  Garth gained amusement from it all and chuckled.

  Rurik entertained shoving the tension ball up his captain’s ass. He eyed the ball before sweeping his gaze to Garth.

  The Viking had the nerve to laugh more. “I know what you’re thinking. And I’d advise against it. I’d feel bad having to hurt you when you’re already all banged up.”

  Rurik grunted. “Nice shiny hair you have there, Captain. Is that peaches I smell? Mated life has softened you. Tell me, does your mate do your braids now too?”

  “Get it out of your system now, Rurik,” said Garth. “My gut says your single days are fast coming to an end. If you’re not careful, you’ll be the next one of us who finds their mate. You’ll find yourself giving on a lot of things you normally wouldn’t.”

  At the mention of mating, Rurik squeezed the damn tension ball to the point it popped. He expected to get a sharp tongue lashing from the therapist.

  She grinned as she bent, retrieving the various bits of it. As she stood, she swept her gaze over him. “I knew you had it in you. Way to dig deep. Had I known all the motivation you needed was to threaten you with getting mated, I’d have been doing that all along.”

  “I do not like you,” he snapped.

  “You never really have, but I’m okay with that.” She winked, then reached into her pocket and pulled out yet another ball. She set it in his hand as she put the broken bits of the previous ball into her pocket. “The more you dislike me, the harder you’ll work, then get back on your feet fully and into the field. That’s the goal, right? Getting back out there?”

  “Why do I think you’re testing my patience to goad me into doing these ridiculous exercises?” asked Rurik.

  “Maybe it’s my kink,” she said. “One of many.”

  He grunted.

  She nodded to Garth on her way out. “I’ll be back to give him some homework, so don’t let him take off before I see him again.”

  “Thanks, Miranda,” said Garth.

  She patted Garth’s arm. “Good luck. He’s something of a bear.”

  Garth laughed at her obvious play on the fact Rurik was indeed a bear-shifter.

  Rurik watched her go. “Miranda? That is her name?”

  “She’s been working with you for days and you didn’t even know her name?” A disbelieving smirk slid over his face.

  Rurik tipped his head slightly, causing discomfort to shoot down his spine. “I’m sure she said it. I wasn’t paying attention. You know how I am with names.”

  “What have you been calling her?” Garth asked, concern on his face.

  “Evil,” replied Rurik, earning him a laugh from his captain.

  Garth eyed him suspiciously. “Rurik, when is the last time you dated anyone?”

  “Dated? I never date anyone,” he responded, trying and failing to recall the last time he’d had the urge for sex. Maybe his dick was broken. He hadn’t really paid much attention. He’d been too focused on things like work.

  “Okay, the last time you had sex then,” pressed Garth.

  Rurik leaned back from his friend. “Captain, are you coming on to me? You’re mated. What would Nicolette have to say? I mean, sure your hair is shiny, but you’re not my type.”

  Just then, Satan—or Miranda—returned, giving Rurik a suspect look.

  “Duke is right, you are a jackass,” said Garth with another laugh. “Answer the question.”

  Miranda smiled—again. “Not sure what the question you want him to answer was, but I want to hear if you’re coming on to him,” she said to Garth.

  With a slight chuckle, Garth pointed to Rurik. “Trying to nail down the last time he’s nailed…erm, dated. When the last time he dated was.”

  Miranda put her hands together and did a small hop. “Oh, I want to know too.”

  Garth stared at him. “Well, we’re waiting.”

  “I do not like either of you,” he spat.

  Miranda waved a hand dismissively. “You don’t like anyone. Okay, when is the last time you went on a date?”

  Thinking on it more, Rurik realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been sexually active. He knew the opportunity had presented itself, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d done anything more than alleviate his own pent-up sexual energy. He shrugged. “Not long ago,” he said, the lie rolling off his tongue.

  “I don’t believe you,” said Garth.

  “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” asked Rurik. “Isn’t there a hair-braiding appointment you’re late for?”

  Garth ignored him. “Fine. You don’t want to talk about your love life. I get it. Let’s talk about how you’re doing physically.”

  “I am fine,” said Rurik, jutting out his chin in a defiant manner. He didn’t need to be checked on as if he were a child. He was a grown man with two hundred and sixty-five years under his belt.

  “Great. Give me five.” Garth stepped closer. He held out his arm at a level that would require Rurik to lift his own to meet it.

  Knowing what was to come, Rurik still did it. He lifted his arm and did his best to hide the fact that pain sliced through his neck and upper back. He managed to tap Garth’s hand. A light sheen of sweat broke out as he lowered his arm once again.

  With a knowing look, Garth spoke. “Yes. You look like you’re doing great.”

  Rurik refrained from calling his captain a dickhead. It was hard.

  Chapter Six

  Durham, North Carolina…

  “Libs, have you given any more thought to what we talked about the other day?” asked Daisy as she got comfy in the bed.

  “About me quitting my job at the university?” asked Liberty.

  Daisy nodded. “With everything that’s been happening in the science department, I don’t think it’s safe for you to be spending so much time there.”

  “I’m
working on my doctorate. I sort of have to spend time there,” protested Liberty.

  “Yes, but that is with other students around you. I’m talking about the times you’re there for the work side of things,” said Daisy.

  “I’m not even in the science department right now. Not with everything that’s happening,” said Liberty.

  “Don’t you think it’s weird that nothing has been in the paper about it all? Not to mention that one detective who came here to the house to interview you right after it all happened, who’s not even a real detective. He’s some random guy no one knows anything about,” said Daisy.

  “We know that he seemed to take an interest in Isobel,” said Liberty. “But the rest is really odd. It does kind of line up with Isobel’s theories.”

  Daisy grunted. “I can’t believe she called that detective on his bullshit credentials and was right. I just thought she was a raging lunatic.”

  “Same,” said Liberty. “Do you remember the third degree she gave that one crime scene reporter? That woman? The one who kind of gave us all the creeps. She just kept staring at us all weird and stuff.”

  Daisy nodded. “I do remember. I can’t blame Isobel, there was something off about the woman.”

  Daisy’s brows lifted. “She was familiar. I can’t place how or why. But the way Isobel reacted to her says if we leave our friend unattended around the reporter, the reporter is going to get her butt kicked.”

  “Isobel did respond kind of aggressively to her, didn’t she?” asked Liberty.

  Daisy nodded. “Isobel always runs kind of hot, pun intended, but that was intense. And the way the reporter kept looking you over like she was sizing you up. Super weird.”

  Liberty agreed. It was weird. “Not to mention, for all the digging she did and all the questions she asked, no story ever ran anywhere that we could find. And trust me when I say, Isobel can find anything on the internet.”

  “You’re right,” admitted Liberty. “Do we dare tell Isobel that we’re starting to buy into her conspiracies?”

  Daisy’s eyes widened. “Uh, let’s hold off a bit. She’s unpredictable enough as it is. If we feed into that state of mind, there is no telling what she’ll do.”