“I spent all of yesterday afternoon with a Yeti,” I hiss. “If I can get through that, I can—“
The door opens, and the woman beckoning us inside is so stunning—and so very other—that my jaw drops open.
Sin elbows me in the side as he steps in front of me. “Dion. I did not expect to see you here this early.”
“Look who’s talking,” the—what? Panther?—says as she holds the door open for us. “You were pretty wasted when you stumbled out of here.”
“That is putting it mildly. My partner, Agent Zoe Dawes. This is her second day with the Bureau, so I hope you will forgive her for being less than...discreet.” His words hold so much disdain, I want to take that travel mug and smack him upside the head.
“Honey,” Dion coos as she wraps one very sleek, furry arm around my shoulders, “your partner’s an ass. You’re human?”
“Yes.” I’m not quite sure how to feel about her motherly tone, or the way she steers me to the bar and pulls out a stool.
“Then today only, you’re allowed to ask one question about me, panthers, shifters in general… Any question. No judgment.” Her smile shows no evidence of feline teeth, and her golden eyes hold both exhaustion and amusement.
“I thought shifters would either look fully human or fully...animals.”
Her fur ripples and fades away, leaving the most beautiful bronzed skin without a single blemish, though she shivers and goosebumps rise on her bare arms. Running a hand over sleek, black locks that tumble over her shoulders and over her green tank, she says, “Does this make you more comfortable?”
Frowning, I shake my head. “No. That’s not what I meant. No one has the right to ask you to look or act or be someone you’re not. My comfort isn’t the issue—nor did it bother me to see you as you were. Shit. You’re gorgeous in both forms. But all the books with shifters, at least, talk about them changing from one form to the other. I never thought you could hang out somewhere in between.”
A decidedly feline purr starts low in her chest as fur covers her skin once more, and her amber eyes change shape subtly, angling out at the corners as her nose flattens. “I like you, Agent Zoe Dawes. I think we’re going to be friends. The jury’s still out on your partner, though. Short answer? When I look like this, I feel more…powerful. More me. Plus, fur does a better job regulating my temperature than my naked skin does.”
“This is all new to me,” I say with my first genuine smile of the day. “Thank you.”
Dion swipes a rag over the bar and glances down at her phone. “Jinx is gonna be a few minutes. Can I get you a refill on those coffees?”
Clearly, I need to work on my poker face, because as soon as my smile falls away, Dion leans forward and lowers her voice. “Hon, these are Blue Bottle beans. We only serve the cheap shit at night. When it’s just me and Jinx here, we spring for the good stuff.”
This is the most comfortable I’ve felt since I started at the Bureau, and I slide a hip onto the stool and pop the lid on my mug. “It was a long night. I’d love another cup.”
“Not as long as his,” Dion says as she tops off Sin’s mug as well. “Next time, demon, you’re cut off after the fifth drink.”
My brows shoot up. “Fifth? How much did you have last night, Sin?”
He remains silent and sullen, but Dion snorts. “Bastian kicked him out after number twelve.”
“You did six shots of vodka right in front of me, one after another,” Sin mutters.
“And I burn it off in no time.” Dion slaps her ass, clad in tight hot pants, and then winks at me. “Best part of being born this way? The metabolism. When my cousin got married last year, I went camping down in Yosemite. Spent three nights runnin’ from sundown to sunup. Came back fifteen pounds lighter. Though it works both ways. My grocery bill’s through the roof.”
After another sip of coffee, I meet her gaze. “Can I ask one more question?”
Dion’s easy to talk to, and Sin definitely isn’t. When she nods, I give him a pointed look, and he mutters something that might be “Humans,” before wandering over to the railing that looks down onto a dance floor.
“What’s the one thing you wish humans knew about shifters? Or the biggest misconception we have.”
“We are definitely going to be friends, hon.” Resting her elbow on the bar, she fiddles with the strap of her tank for a moment. “That we’re really no different than you are. Most of those in the Other community are just like the friends and family you’ve known your whole life. Hell, a bunch of them are your friends and family, they’ve just never come out to you. We want the same things. Solid relationships, trust, love, respect. That’s why losing Jacinda hurts so much. And why your partner saw me pound the vodka.” Dion’s eyes water, and she swipes the back of her hand over her cheek. “That girl was the sweetest thing.”
It takes me a moment to put the pieces together, and when I do, I glare at Sin. “Seriously? When were you going to tell me you got a name?”
He flinches. “When I sobered up enough to remember I hadn’t.”
If so many of my nights recently hadn’t ended at the bottom of a bottle of Jack, I’d be harder on him for his actions. But the hell I went through only left me with one scar. His? I think it almost destroyed him.
Twelve
Sin
Jinx beckons us from the back office, and as I follow behind Zoe, I kick myself, yet again, for letting my past interfere with this case. If I had been sober last night, perhaps I could have stopped Regina. Or trailed her to find Thorn—and the missing shifters.
The very idea of seeing Thorn again, of hearing his voice, of the mere chance he could snare me in his inescapable thrall a second time… I stifle a shudder. In Hell, I endured centuries of torture. By the end, madness had consumed me. And yet, my time in the Underworld was nothing compared to what Thorn did to me.
“Sin?” Zoe whispers. “Are you all right?”
I shoot her a look warning her to keep quiet, and she rolls her eyes. I deserved that.
“Agent Dawes and Agent Sinclair,” Jinx says as she drops lightly into her chair and taps a few keys on her keyboard. “Dion says you need to review our security footage.”
I blow out a slow breath. “When I was leaving last night, I heard a woman convincing one of your patrons to go with her. I believe this woman is a person of interest in our case. Perhaps even the murderer’s accomplice.”
Jinx presses her hand to her chest. “You think this same woman took Jacinda?”
Glancing over at Zoe, I see the accusation in her green eyes. She’s learning just how much of an ass I am. Particularly when drunk. “I do. We cannot go into detail—not with an open investigation—but what happened to Jacinda has happened before. If this woman is using your club as a poaching ground, we might be able to set a trap for her and put an end to this for good.”
With a curt nod, Jinx brings up a screen showing six different video images. “If your suspect is using my club to hunt, she will regret ever being born. We protect our own, Sinclair. Not that we won’t accept the Bureau’s help, but if this woman shows up on video and we ever see her again, I will intervene and stop her.”
“Jinx, I’m new to the Bureau.” Zoe sits up a little straighter in her chair, an earnest look on her face. “But I was with the SFPD for six years. I promise you...if you let us handle this, we will find this woman—and anyone else she’s working with—and we’ll stop them.”
“Dion likes you, human.” Jinx inclines her head as if she’s doubting her manager’s word. “But I do not know you, and there is something about you that’s—“
“Jinx,” I say sharply. “The only one allowed to insult my partner in my presence is me. And we require privacy. Give us the room, and you can view the feeds later at your leisure.”
Zoe shoots me a look that could flay my skin from my body, but as that particular torture is one I’ve survived multiple times, I shake it off. It is better if she does not know anything about her Other side—wh
atever it may be. If she were to discover it, or use any talents she might have, she could be even more of a target than she is already. Thorn would hunt her down and invade her mind until he wrung every last drop of power from her soul. And then, he would drive her slowly, painfully insane.
I do not know how to tell her that her mere association with me puts her in danger. I did not see Regina the previous night, and I do not believe she saw me. But if I am wrong?
Fuck. I should never have gone to Zoe’s apartment. I could have been followed. Commander Eve needs to assign Zoe a security detail.
“Get your head in the game, Sin,” Zoe snaps as she starts the video playback. “I don’t know where you keep going, but it isn’t here with me.”
I draw in a sharp breath. There are times that the woman at my side seems so familiar. And very much…mine, that she takes my breath away. The look on her face now? It stirs emotions in me I have never felt before. I cannot let myself give in. Emotion—any emotion—is a danger to both of us.
It takes me only seconds to get myself under control. After all, I have had years of practice feeling…nothing. “Apologies. It will not happen again.”
“I hope not.”
The images on the screen pass by at double speed, starting half an hour before midnight. I cringe as one of the feeds captures me stumbling through the crowd on my way to the door. My footsteps are uneven, my shoulders slump, and I am clearly belligerent.
“No more investigating on your own,” Zoe snaps. “I can’t believe you. Even when I was at my lowest, I never—never—drank on the job, and I don’t care what time it was. You were clearly on the job.”
“No one knows my faults better than me. I do not need you to remind me of them at every turn.” My anger is so bright and hot, I almost miss the glimpse of long, black hair against deathly pale skin. Or the flash of orange in her eyes. “There. That is Regina.” Jabbing the keyboard, I slow the video to normal speed and rewind to play it a second time.
“Look at the girl next to her,” Zoe says, pointing to a small, frizzy-haired shifter. “I saw her on the video earlier. She’s been at the club for at least an hour, and she’s following Regina around like a little lost puppy dog.”
“Do not let any of the shifters hear you compare them to puppies.” That is the last thing we need.
“Pay attention.” Zoe grabs the mouse and starts zooming in on Regina and her target. The demon traces her finger down the shifter’s cheek, and the girl smiles, her eyes blank, and nods. “Dammit. I wish we had sound.”
“We do not need it. Regina is Fae, and with her particular power, she can cast a charm with an effect similar to Rohypnal using only her words. There is no fighting it. Not even the strongest mind can break free. Her victim will be compliant, dazed, and do whatever Regina asks. When the charm wears off, she will likely remember nothing.”
“Shit.”
I can feel Zoe’s horror, but it is nothing compared to my own. For Regina’s charms did not work as well on me as she’d thought. I was too strong, and though I could not fight her, I was often semi-aware of what she was making me do. The longer we spend working this case, the more I remember how she prepared me for Thorn's torture. And how he stole everything I was, slowly, painfully, until I finally broke completely.
We watch together as the shifter follows Regina out the club’s front door without saying a word, passing within ten feet of me. I’d fallen, facing away from them. Minutes later, I believe I vomited in the gutter. Had I been sober, I would have found her, and perhaps, the pretty young shifter with the frizzy hair and bright, blue eyes would still be free today.
Zoe
Back at Bureau headquarters, we stand in front of Commander Eve, Sin staring straight ahead, focused on something over her shoulder as he recounts his drunken night and how close he was to Regina.
Halfway through Eve’s tirade dressing down for his stupidity, I clear my throat. “Commander?”
“Yes, Agent Dawes? Please do not tell me you condone this behavior.” Her pupils are pinpricks of onyx, and she’s angry enough, her fingernails take on a decidedly talon-like appearance, but her voice is still calm—too calm, in fact—that scary type of calm that warns how close to the edge she is.
“No, Commander. Of course not. But I’ve had my share. You were watching me after Temple’s death. You know I didn’t handle that particularly...well.”
Sin may have been an idiot, but every person—or demon—on the planet has made mistakes. Some of them legion. The longer she takes to rip him a new one, the more time we lose. The shifter’s been gone for almost twelve hours now, and we still don’t know her name.
Eve jerks out of her chair and marches over to Sin. The tall, blond eagle shifter jams her hands onto her hips and stares up at him. “You had better get your head on straight, Sinclair. Regina doesn’t get to use my city as her new hunting grounds, and Thorn is not going to leave San Francisco alive. Understand?”
He nods, still not meeting her gaze.
“Get out of here. Both of you,” she snaps.
Gathering the photos we’d printed from the security feeds, I tuck them into my bag as I follow Sin to our desks. “Give me the best picture we have,” he says as he logs in to his computer. “I will show you how to release an official APB for a person of interest.”
With my chair next to his, I watch him go through the various steps. There’s a heaviness to his movements, a resignation, an exhaustion, like every key weighs ten pounds. I can’t help staring at Regina’s photo. Her frame is almost skeletal, and something about her orange eyes leaves a vague sense of dread in the pit of my stomach.
“Take over,” Sin mutters as he pushes up and starts to pace in a circle around our desks. “After her description, add the following: Suspect is extremely dangerous, and can compel anyone with her voice. If seen, do not approach without ear protection. She has millennia of experience hiding in the shadows and blending in, and should be considered one of the most dangerous criminals the Bureau has ever sought. Contact Agents Sinclair and Dawes with any potential sightings immediately.”
“Damn, Sin. Isn’t that a little...overkill?” I shut my mouth when I see the look on his face. Nope. Apparently it’s not. I save Regina’s description and push back from his desk. “What do we use for facial recognition here?”
“The Global Habitant Optical Scanning and Tracking system,” he says, leaning over me to tap the touchscreen.
“What the hell kind of name is that?” As I focus on the icon, I realize why it sounds so...ridiculous. “Really? The GHOST system? At BOO. How do we expect anyone to take us seriously when we have acronyms like that?”
Sin arches a brow. “Agent Dawes, that is exactly the point. We do not want the general public knowing about us, and if they were ever to hear about the Bureau and our systems, the more ridiculous they think the names are, the better.”
“Why do we care? We have Mem-Clear. If we find someone who’s not ready to know about us, we can just—“
“No.” The word escapes on a snarl, and Sin slams his hand down on his desk, making the keyboard clatter and several other agents stare at us and whisper amongst themselves. “We do not deploy Mem-Clear like it is candy.”
Kunchin strides over, his massive, furry frame so tall, I have to crane my neck to see his face. “Everything okay here, Zoe?”
“Fine,” I say with a forced smile. “My partner’s got a giant stick up his ass, though.” Sin glares at me, but says nothing. “I don’t suppose you could show me how to use the GHOST system?”
“Sure.” The yeti gives my chair a gentle push and crouches down next to me. His large hands dwarf the keyboard, but he can type faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. “Just enter all known visual information here, then click source image and find the digital file you want to match.”
“That one.” I point to the one clear image we were able to gather off Loup Noir’s security feeds.
“Gotcha.” Kunchin selects the photo, and afte
r it uploads, he points to the big red button at the bottom of the screen. “Go for it.”
I’m practically grinning as I click the Match button. It’s silly. I’ve done this same thing hundreds of times for the SFPD, but this feels...so much more important. Heavier. Like I’ve finally discovered my purpose in life.
With a nod, Kunchin pats my forearm. “Good job, rookie.” As he shoulders Sin to one side, he mutters, “Cut her some slack.”
At least someone around here is nice. And normal. Well, other than the thick white fur and long, sharp canines that perch on his gray lower lip. How the hell does he manage to go outside and not get noticed?
“He uses a perception filter,” Sin says quietly.
Springing to my feet, I whirl around and get right in his face. “Were you just using your talents on me?”
He offers me a dry chuckle. “Your expression gave your thoughts away, Zoe.” Sobering, he pins me with that deep blue stare that seems to see right into the depths of my soul. “I swore to you that I would never feed from you—or use my talents on you—without your knowledge, and I do not break my promises.”
“Everyone breaks promises,” I say, fighting a sudden, unexpected, and completely illogical urge to burst into tears.
Sin digs his fingers into his left forearm, then grimaces in pain. “I suppose they do. The last time I failed to keep my word, I lost everything. I will not do so again. You can trust me, Zoe.”
I want to. With everything I am. But if I do, and he betrays me? I’ll never trust anyone again.
“Come with me. Facial recognition will take at least an hour or two. We can set up in a conference room again and start investigating the one shifter we have managed to identify.” When I hesitate, he sighs. “I will buy lunch. Will you join me?”
“Fine.” I grab my satchel and follow him upstairs.
When we’re set up in the same room he ran out of yesterday, he meets my gaze. “What do you eat?”
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