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Risk

Page 7

by Jaime Johnesee


  “You’ve got it. I don’t want to believe Sal is antiwere. Just promise we will look into him the same way we do the others.”

  “I promise. Thanks, Sam.”

  “Yeah, no problem.” I had to admit Sal Guzeman didn’t seem the type to sell anyone into slavery, but you never know who has it in them to do this sort of evil.

  Then again, most people were surprised to find my mom had done the things to me that she had. She was such a respectable person in the community I grew up in, the thought of her prostituting her child to grown men and women was ridiculous. As ridiculous as it might have been, it was also, unfortunately, true.

  I had Quinn drive me back to my car after we’d filed our reports. I decided it was time I had a talk with Ben.

  Also, I wanted another Fresca.

  Chapter 9

  I MADE MY way to my maker’s. Answering his door, Ben seemed surprised and delighted to see me.

  “Come on in, Sam.” He went for the hug, but I had gone for the handshake, and it turned very awkward, very quick. We both laughed about it and the tension eased.

  I stepped into his home and was surprised to see how he had redone his vestibule after Grisly had torn it to shreds.

  The mermaid theme was gone, replaced with a comfortable elegance, the tone set by the large mahogany mail table in the center. On it was an African violet and a peace lily in matching brass pots flanking a dark wooden inbox piled with magazines and bills. A suitcase stood under the table.

  The cool blue paint color and reddish brown wood tones played off of each other nicely, and a large silvered glass sculpture dominated the niche where a vintage topless hula girl lamp once sat. I looked around and realized I had no idea what had been going on in Ben’s life. I hadn’t spent any real time with him since the night Grisly had tried to kill him.

  “Someone’s grown up a bit.” I was impressed at how beautiful his place looked.

  Where an old but comfy sofa, recliner, and a ginormous TV had once lived, there now sat an elegant and contemporary living room set.

  “You should see the bedroom.” There was a self-assured grin on his face that I had come to associate with his cat.

  “I bet it’s lovely.” I went for polite but distant.

  “Comfortable, too.”

  “Unlike this conversation.” I grinned wide enough to show my teeth, a feline reminder not to mess with me, and stepped into the living room.

  “Touché.” His gaze held mine. “So, can I get you something to drink?”

  Because of dominance reasons, I couldn’t move my eyes away from his. My cat was trying very hard to come forward and I growled internally at her to back the fuck down.

  I didn’t want Ben.

  Okay, that’s a lie, I totally wanted Ben. I just didn’t want a relationship with Ben. I could see my cat smirk at me and go back to grooming a paw. As nice as no strings attached sex can be, I wanted Alex, and I was a one mate kind of gal.

  “Got any Fresca?”

  “No. Do they still make that stuff?”

  “Yes, you should try it. It’s very refreshing. Look, I’m here because I need you to tell me what is going on. My jaguar is getting stronger.”

  “What do you mean?” He dropped the lean-against-the-door-seductively pose and offered me a seat.

  “I mean I’m having a hard time fighting her and not just when it comes to bunny hunting.”

  “Still with the bunnies?” He saw my glower. “I get it, that’s not the point. Why do you fight her?”

  “Because I don’t agree with her.” I was beginning to get exasperated.

  This was pointless.

  “Okay, well, what’s something that she wants that you don’t.” He was totally clueless.

  Fuck it. “You.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. I want Alex. Have since we were just kids.”

  “Well, then you need to draw a line in the sand with her. You need to be the alpha between the pair of you.”

  “How do I become the alpha of a metaphysical thought-cat?”

  “That is a question for the ages.” Ben sat back in his seat and began toying with the remote control.

  “I guess it is.” I was beginning to feel like coming here had been a bad idea.

  My phone alerted me to a text message and I read it. James Brady sent me the address of someone who called in saying they saw Grisly meeting with several prominent leaders of the community.

  “I have to go check out this lead, but I want to hear more about how to alpha her.”

  “You want me to come with you? I can explain in the car along the way.” He set the remote on the table and stood.

  “There is no way I’m taking a civilian with me on a lead. I could lose my job if they found out. Thanks for offering.”

  “I’m not a regular civilian, Sam.”

  “I know, but rules are rules.” I motioned for him to sit back down.

  Sure, it was just a simple witness statement, but it could always turn into something more, and having Ben there was a stupid idea on so many levels.

  “Maybe you could call when you’re done and we can talk then?”

  “Sounds good.”

  “See ya.”

  I nodded goodbye and took off, double checking the address and the route I’d be taking as I walked to my baby. I slid behind the wheel and smiled when I started her up; there is something about the growl of a well maintained Hemi that I find soothing.

  I drove down to the office building I’d been sent to via Brady’s text. I drove around it a couple times to see what I could see—and find a good parking spot. Nothing I saw struck me as unusual so I pulled into the parking structure and began moving slowly up the ramp.

  I noticed a car behind me and saw that it was swiftly moving up on my tail.

  I growled as I gripped the wheel a little tighter and slightly increased my speed. Perhaps he hadn’t seen me yet. The car was a mid-nineties Jeep Wrangler and it was getting way too close to my baby’s rear for my liking.

  When I was restoring her, it had taken me a week to pound out all the dents that had come with the bumper, not to mention the re-chroming had been a bitch of a cost. I know, I could’ve saved some cash and just gone with a reproduction, but my baby came to me with mostly matching numbers and I wanted to keep her as intact as I could, minus the modifications.

  I pulled off onto the third level with a squeal of my tires and was dismayed when the car followed me.

  Fuck it.

  That seemed to be my mantra for the day. I stopped cold and shut my eyes, awaiting the collision.

  It didn’t come.

  I looked into my rearview mirror and the Wrangler sat there behind me, Ben white-knuckling the wheel, a look of fear on his face.

  “What the hell?” Pretty sure he couldn’t hear me, even though I’d screamed it out, loud.

  So I got out of my car and walked to his.

  “What the hell?” I said again, slightly less apocalyptically.

  “Sorry, I just didn’t want to lose you because I’m not very good at this whole following people thing.”

  “Pull over there.” I pointed to two spots right next to each other.

  I was pissed at him for following, and at me for not noticing until he was up my tailpipe. He did as I asked and I pulled in next to him and walked over to his door and hunched down to talk to him.

  “Why did you follow me? I told you no.”

  “I know you did, but I also knew you wouldn’t call when you were done because you’d probably have a lead to track down. Can’t you just say I’m your associate and I’ll stay quiet?”

  “No. You can, however, stay in your car.” I leaned in the window as if to talk to him and, when he raised a hand, I cuffed it to the steering wheel.

  “Sam, c’mon, I can help.”

  “Yes, you can. You can help by staying right there.” I waved at him, then turned and walked to the elevators.

  My cellphone rang, Janet Jackson’s Black Ca
t blared over the speaker.

  Ben.

  “Not cool.”

  “Look, I get you want to help, but if you keep helping like this you’re going to get me fired. Stay where you are and we can go have some coffee and talk when I’m done, please.”

  “Fine. Not like I have a choice.” I could hear him rattling the handcuffs.

  “Nope, you didn’t leave me one.” I hung up and slipped the phone back into my front pocket.

  Within moments the elevator dinged and I stepped inside the empty car and hit the button marked Lobby.

  After a rough jolt, the car lurched upward while I stumbled back, banging my elbow against the wall of the elevator. My jaguar sat, staring at me smugly.

  Yeah, I get it, if I let you have a bit more control I’d have better reaction time. I still can’t allow it. Look, eating the bunnies isn’t too bad, but I won’t wake up in bed with Ben. Do you understand me? Nobody is going to have me in a position where I can’t decide for myself. Nobody. Never again.

  She felt the rage and fear in my words and stood, startled. She took a step back and nodded to me. I felt her retreat and my thoughts were once again mine alone.

  This was getting far too creepy.

  Chapter 10

  “MY NAME IS Special Agent Samantha Reece. I’m with the FBI. Someone called in a tip from this building and asked me to meet them here.” I flashed my badge at the young woman behind the desk in the lobby.

  “Ma’am—”

  “Please address me as Agent Reece,” I interrupted, giving her my best be-nice-or-you’re-fucked smile.

  “Agent, I don’t think I could tell you who called anything in. We have fifteen companies doing business out of this building and each office has multiple phone lines.”

  “Do you mind if I take a look around, for security’s sake?” This always did the trick because it meant I was taking responsibility for anything that happened.

  “Just please don’t go around announcing you’re FBI.”

  “Oh, I promise I’ll behave so long as there is no reason for me to go all government agent.”

  “Let me call my supervisor.”

  “Please do. I’ll call mine as well.” I smiled politely and took out my cellphone and called Gerry.

  The receptionist ran the phone number at her boss’ insistence and told me the top floor was the only one with the right prefix. In less than two minutes I was in the elevator heading up. I figured I’d work my way around the floor. Somebody had wanted me to look into this place.

  The doors of the elevator opened and I got off on a floor covered in dust and construction equipment. I didn’t let it deter me and walked all the halls, checking every office to look for anyone or anything suspicious.

  “Shifter bitch!” The slur came from behind me, but before I could turn around someone had clocked me on the side of my head.

  The world wobbled a moment before going completely dark.

  * * *

  I WOKE UP in one of the offices, hands cuffed with my own steel.

  Great.

  I checked my hip, unsurprised to see my sidearm missing.

  Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!

  I might have been unsurprised, but I was still pissed to see it gone. I tried to stand.

  “Uh-uh, you evil creature. Stay!” A young man dressed in a suit, but no tie, looked at me the same way I looked at a palmetto bug that had flown into my house.

  It hadn’t ended well for that bug. I gulped.

  “I was supposed to get you poking into this place, but nobody was actually supposed to come down here. You caught me at a disadvantage.”

  His radio squawked. “Periphery two, report.”

  He grabbed the walkie-talkie off his belt.

  “Yeah, Base, this is P-2. The cat’s in the henhouse.” He leered me up and down.

  “Proceed cautiously, P-2. Base on standby.” The radio crackled and went silent and he put it back on his belt.

  “You’ve got to know this won’t end well for you. Kidnapping and killing a federal agent will mean you never again see the light of day.”

  “I don’t care. It’s worth it to kill a shifter like you.” He spat on me and walked over to the side. “Vampires have come out. We don’t look crazy anymore and we plan to use that to take down all the corrupt monsters in our system. I figure I’ll start with you and work my way down.”

  The man was crazy. I was as good as dead.

  Fuck.

  “Oh, sure. You guys invent the virus and infect us with it, then you torture us our whole lives only to kill us without any dignity and, yet, we’re the monsters? Bullshit.”

  “We didn’t invent the virus. You did.” He looked angry.

  This was either the dumbest thing I could do or the smartest. I wouldn’t know which until it was too late, but I had to do something.

  “Bullshit, yourself. AWFA invented the virus, infected their enemies, and recruited people to kill them so their hands would be clean. You’ll be going to jail, but the guy who infected me will never see a court room. Typical.”

  “We did not do this. You are abominations and we didn’t create you. You created yourselves.”

  “Ho, boy, have they got you drinking the company Kool-Aid. They created the virus alright. Read up on WWI and you’ll see. Use your phone and Google. I’ll wait here.” I pushed his bagged phone across the table to him. Sure enough, he found stuff about Ilya Ivanovich Ivanov and how the Nazis—the basis for AWFA—created the virus.

  He shoved the phone back at me and sneered. “It don’t matter who made it, if you’re infected then you’re damned.”

  A knock on the door turned his attention from me. He walked over and pulled it open. A ceramic pot with a small peace lily cracked over his head and Ben came rushing into the room as my captor crumbled to the ground.

  It reminded me of a scene from some old movie. He bent over the man and patted him down, then took my cuff keys off of him.

  “What the hell, Ben?”

  “You’re welcome. Yell at me later; let’s get you out of here.” He uncuffed me and helped me up. “I heard on their radios they have more guys coming this way.”

  Aside from a bit of nausea on standing, I was okay. I went over to the AWFA creep and found my gun. I took it, his pepper spray, and my badge he had taken from me. Ben and I ran out the door and I stopped, ran back in, and grabbed the guy’s walkie talkie.

  “Okay, now we know where they’re coming from.”

  Ben and I ran down the hall and made it to the elevator bank before the radio blared to life and they let me know they were coming our way. Two guys rounded the corner and Ben and I ran. I turned the radio down, hit a nearby fire alarm, and pulled Ben into a storage closet after rounding the next corner.

  As I listened to them coming closer, I lamented that we were stuck in that damn closet waiting for everyone to clear out. A closet that was so small I was forced to be entwined in an uncomfortable almost-hug with Ben. His breath warmed my cheek and it felt good. I could feel my pulse increase and knew that he could, too.

  He smelled so good.

  “Sam,” he whispered.

  “Shh.” I was hoping he’d just shut up so I could concentrate on the situation at hand, instead of dealing with the feelings I had for him.

  “I just….” He moved and his body touched the full length of mine. I wanted nothing more than his hands on me.

  “Shut. Up,” I whispered as I tapped my ear and pointed at the closet door to let him know I wanted to listen for the AWFA assholes looking for us.

  “I think they ran this way.” The muffled voice was too close for my comfort.

  Ben leaned in closer as the voices grew near.

  “Yeah, I thought I saw that chick duck down here.” The sound of doors opening and closing filled the hall.

  Damn it!

  I reached behind Ben, gripped the door knob tightly, placed a foot on either side of the doorframe, braced myself, and pulled. I was hoping they’d assume t
he lock was one they didn't have a key for. If they yanked hard enough, or the knob failed, we were toast.

  I scented the air and looked at him as the odiferous proof of his desire wafted across my palate. “Really, now?” I whispered.

  Ben’s ears reddened and he shrugged, breaking eye contact. “Your arms are around me, Sam, I can’t help but respond. I’m keeping my hands and lips to myself, but the pheromones aren’t under my control.”

  “Fair point.” I struggled to concentrate and come up with an exit strategy. I was so busy refocusing all my thoughts I nearly yelped when the knob turned in my hand. I chose to bite my lip, instead. Blood welled and dripped down my chin.

  Ben leaned in and brushed it off with his thumb. I mouthed a thank you to him.

  They grabbed the knob and pulled. I held my weight on the door. It didn’t budge.

  “This one’s locked, let’s move on; they don’t have any keys,” a younger sounding voice said.

  The pressure on the knob released.

  “They might have locked it from the inside.”

  “It’s a broom closet. I don’t even think one person could hide in there, let alone two.” The younger one had a magnificent scoff.

  “We should call in for a key and wait here.”

  Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

  “Seriously, Hal?”

  “That’s protocol, Dave.”

  “And what do you think they’ll do to us when your obsession over a freaking shoebox—that couldn’t possibly hold two fucking suspects—allowed them to escape through some other route?”

  “Well, I think they’ll fire us. I think they’d also fire us if they found out we didn’t clear this closet and that’s where they were hiding.”

  “Fine. Call it in and see what they say.” Dave huffed and one of them leaned against the door. I wasn’t sure which, but I tightened my grip and said a prayer.

  “Base, this is Three. We have a locked broom closet in section K, how do you want us to proceed?” Hal sounded relieved to be turning the decision over.

  “Three, move on. I’m being told that closet is too small.”

 

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