Shifter's Claim (The Shadow Shifters) (38 page)

“You’ve been a bad, bad, girl, Bianca.”

She tried to talk, tried to explain, he figured, but Darel simply tightened his grip. “What else did you tell those shadows?”

Her head moved from side to side, the tips of her earlobes turning red. She kicked wildly, her knees slapping him in the back and Darel’s dick hardened. A nuisance distraction, this arousal that came whenever he got physical with Bianca, even if that physicality was going to result in her death.

“What did you tell them, you little slut!” he yelled, his composure slipping as surely as his focus. “What did you tell them?”

In the next instant Darel was airborne, flying through the air to bounce off his bedroom wall and slide to the floor. Inside his cat roared as he rolled over and attempted to stand, only to be kicked in the face and subsequently knocked back against the wall. Blood filled his mouth as his eyes rolled back in his head. He was just opening his eyes, attempting to take a deep breath when his dick was grabbed in a grip so tight it brought tears to his eyes. They were open now, wide and focused—even if the focus was growing a bit blurry. And he stared into a face he’d hoped to never see again, not in this lifetime or any other lifetime, to be exact.

“Boden,” he whispered hoarsely.

*   *   *

There was nothing here, Dorian Wilson thought grimly. He’d searched Priya Drake’s apartment from top to bottom and there was nothing. Not one shred of information about her trip to Sedona or what she may have found there.

It was over a month ago that Ms. Drake had e-mailed him asking for his help finding her brother. He’d immediately remembered Malik Drake as one of the addicts he’d tried desperately to flip in one of their major drug investigations. That was the first thing about the e-mail that had caught his attention. The second, and by far the most important, was her reference to “cat people” and Roman Reynolds. For over a year now Reynolds had been on Dorian’s radar. The failed attempt at catching the criminal masked as a litigation attorney had been thwarted by one of their own, Kalina Harper, falling for the man. But Dorian was sure there was something going on with Reynolds and his friends, something illegal that he wanted to bring down desperately. So he’d replied to Priya Drake more than a dozen times, only to be ignored.

It hadn’t taken much investigating on his part to find that Ms. Drake, although she lived here in D.C., had been staying in Sedona for a while. He recalled seeing a picture of Reynolds and his friends from the president’s fund-raiser in the paper and Dorian immediately linked Sebastian Perry of Perryville Resorts in Sedona, Arizona, to the missing reporter.

Days after Priya’s departure, Reynolds and his two sidekicks headed out west as well. The next thing Dorian knew the media was in a frenzy over an incident with reported animal involvement. Everyone was up in arms, from the animal rights groups to the land conservationists and straight back here to the president, who immediately returned the funds contributed to his campaign by Reynolds and Delgado, LLC.

Then Priya had been injured and returned to D.C. with her family only a day before Reynolds and his wife returned. As far as news went, since then it had been quiet in Sedona, as well as here in D.C., a fact which concerned Dorian even more. That concern was what brought Dorian to Priya Drake’s home today and had him breaking the very law he’d sworn to uphold as he illegally entered her apartment and searched for information he wasn’t totally convinced existed.

But there had to be something, he thought, standing in the middle of her living room looking around. She had to know something.

The sunlight from the only window in the room caught something on the top shelf of a bookcase and Dorian moved in to see what it was. He frowned when he realized it was just two key chains bound together. One was from Perryville Resorts and the other from a spa. “The Alma spa,” he said, reading the key chain that boasted a very relaxing-looking pool and the name in bold orange letters. The thought of a vacation flitted through his mind quickly, leaving the same way as something else caught his eye.

It was out the window and was just a movement. He shouldn’t have been concerned but, hell, he was an FBI agent, so everything concerned him. Dorian walked to the window, still holding the key chains and expecting to see nothing but someone getting out of a car, maybe to come into this building or another one on this street. He hadn’t really expected to see her, not again.

Female, coffee-brown complexion, shoulder-length black hair, and athletic build. Today she wore sunglasses, to cover her eyes he suspected, from him. A few months ago he’d seen her sitting outside his apartment, or rather he’d seen her eyes. Freaked the living daylights out of him. The second time he’d seen her had been after work one evening. He’d come out and walked to the parking lot as he usually did, knowing that she was waiting in her car across the street from the office to follow him. He’d driven for hours until finally deciding to book a room at the Hilton Alexandria in Old Town. The next morning she’d been gone and he’d returned to work to run the tags from her car. They’d belonged to a rental agency and their records indicated the car had been rented by a Mrs. Marjorie Jane, a woman who’d died more than ten years ago. He hadn’t seen her again until today.

With disappointment a bitter tinge in the back of his throat, Dorian stuffed the key chains into his pocket and hurried out of the apartment. He was going to find out who this woman was and what she wanted with him once and for all.

Dorian took the steps two at a time and pushed through the double doors on the first floor. Running down the front steps he stopped only when he saw a long black limousine pull up. Just as the limo arrived, the blue compact car his snooping little female was driving pulled out. Cursing, he ran a hand down the back of his head and wondered again about taking that vacation. Turning down the street he walked toward the corner where he’d parked his gray, nondescript, department-issued vehicle. He never looked behind him to see who stepped out of that limousine or which apartment building that person went into.

*   *   *

Priya was still stunned.

“I’d like to offer you a job,” Roman Reynolds had said to her as she sat across from him in his office. To his right, Kalina stood draping an arm over the back of his chair. She looked as flawless as ever with her chin-length bob, an orange and bronze color that fit her buttery complexion perfectly. Her dress was simple, long-sleeved gray cashmere that hugged her tightly, but not vulgarly. Black leather boots that reached her knees gave her an edgy appearance and that bling-tastic rock on her left ring finger gave Priya an instant migraine.

“Are you serious?” she’d asked when the words had settled over her mind for a second or so.

Rome nodded. “I am deadly serious.”

And since that little sentence was spoken in a matching tone to be followed up by that chilling stare that she’d only seen on one other man in her entire life, Priya was inclined to believe him.

“What kind of job would you offer me?” Another question which reminded her of someone who’d told her she had an insatiable need to know everything. With a deep inhale she quashed that thought, he’d been banished from her daily thinking, or at least during the daylight hours he had. At night, she was a victim of the broken-heart syndrome. She ached for Bas, for his serious looks and hesitation to laugh, his scorching kisses and overprotective gestures that foolishly made her feel like a princess.

“We’d like you to be the public relations liaison for the Stateside Assembly. You would supervise and administer all of our official statements, maintaining a working dialogue between us and the humans,” Kalina told her.

Priya swallowed then looked at the woman whom she’d spent quite a bit of time with over the last few weeks. After she’d returned from Sedona and when she thought she’d never see or hear from any of the ones she now knew as Shadow Shifters again, Kalina had called two days later and invited her to lunch. From that little outing there’d come an invitation to dinner where Kalina had brought along Ary and Caprise. After that the foursome enjoyed a couple of happy hours, at Priya’s suggestion and Caprise’s overjoyed reaction. Still, a job offer had been the furthest thing from Priya’s mind.

“But I didn’t write the story. I didn’t tell anyone who you really are,” she insisted.

“We know you didn’t and we’ll be forever grateful to you for making that decision,” Rome stated. “But since we’ve been back there’s been one story after another, all speculation of course, but the questions are mounting. I’ve been having my secretary take messages from local reporters and international tabloids. The same goes for Nick and X. We want to say something, to issue a blanket statement that will cover us completely, but none of us are experts in that area.”

Kalina spoke up next. “You are, Priya. You can write press releases and you can deliver statements. You know who we are and what we stand for, you can defend us as the unknown to the people you know so well.”

Priya shook her head. “Let me get this straight, you want me to come and work for you? But I’m not a Shadow Shifter. In fact, I’m one of the very species you don’t want to reveal yourselves to.”

“You’re one of us,” Kalina continued. “You’re Bas’s ma—” she started, only to be cut off by Rome clearing his throat loudly.

“We trust you, Priya,” he finished. “We trust you as a professional and a friend. Because you know our secret and you could have told the second you found out. But you didn’t, instead you offered to help us. You did help us and took a bullet for your troubles. Come work for us and I promise we’ll take very good care of you.”

“By that you mean a lucrative salary, health, dental, and vision benefits. Fully vested 401(k) and maybe a company car,” she added because she believed they were just jerking her chain anyway, so why not play along?

“All of that and then some,” Kalina replied. “You even get a new apartment closer to the new Assembly Headquarters Rome is setting up in Maryland.”

“Moving? Me? Wait a minute, this cannot be happening,” she said, continuing to shake her head. In a minute she was going to have a crick in her neck from all the back-and-forth motion.

“I bet you thought that when Bas told you what we really were, and yet here we are,” Kalina offered in that kind, makes-perfect-sense way of hers.

She’d left the office with the promise to think the offer over thoroughly before giving them an answer. Now, as she stepped out of the cab and walked toward the front steps of her apartment building she was thinking that maybe it would be nice to have a car of her own and an apartment where the security door really worked and the buzzers to allow people to call up to her apartment weren’t a bundle of open wires just waiting to singe somebody’s fingers off. Then again, there was much to contemplate about working for, not just another employer, but another species entirely.

As she took the steps she remembered the first time she’d seen those eyes in that alley. She’d been intrigued. The next time she’d felt vindicated that her suspicions had been confirmed. And when she’d seen Bas’s cat up close and personal an array of emotions had volleyed for attention, the most prominent one still stalking her to this day. With a frown she pulled out her key and walked down the hall toward her apartment. Her mind was still whirling around the Shadow Shifters, Rome’s job offer, and the full circle she’d come with that man and his family, and … wait a minute. Priya paused right in front of her door, the door with the shiny new gold knob and dead bolt. She stepped back and looked up to the apartment number that had been crooked since the day she’d moved in. This was her apartment but her locks hadn’t looked like this when she left. Just to assure herself that she wasn’t totally losing her mind, Priya reached out and tried to insert the key in her hand into the lock on the door. It didn’t work, which did not surprise her in the least. What did give her more than a little start was when the door was wrenched open and a man stood on the other side. She backed up in disbelief and stumbled. He reached out an arm, catching her around the waist, pulling her up to his chest.

And her mind went back to over a month ago when she’d worn a red dress and crept through the halls of the Willard InterContinental Hotel. A man had grabbed her to him this way then, stopping her from breaking into a suite. He was a man she’d never forget.

Bas pulled her into her apartment before she could manage to wrap her lips around any coherent words. He closed the door with a resounding thump, then pushed her up against it.

“Every night you’ve invaded my dreams until finally I realized what will make a person travel thousands of miles without a second thought. It’s this, right here, right now, this between you and me.”

His last words were a bare whisper over Priya’s lips before he took her. His mouth pressing hard against hers, his tongue not obediently requesting entrance, but pushing its way inside, almost daring her to pull away, which of course hadn’t quite occurred to her yet. Instead her tongue readily reunited with his, her head tilted, and she took, damn she took what she too had been dreaming of for weeks that seemed more like years.

His fingers raked through the short strands of her hair, scraping her scalp as he held her head in place, his mouth ravishing hers all the while. Her back pressed against the door as his front—the delectable hardness of his sculpted abs, toned pectorals, and oh yes, the enticing bulge of his erection—pushed deliciously into hers. She was on fire immediately, her center pulsating with need, her hips jutting forward instinctively.

At that little action Bas purred. She felt the sound as it emanated deep in his chest then ripped free and in response she moaned her own pleasure. With reckless abandon that she figured would lead to a lot of forehead slapping and scolding of herself later, Priya wrapped her arms around his shoulders, grasping the material of the long-sleeved shirt he wore between hurried fingers. She pulled at the shirt until it gave, ripping free of its hold within his pants. Yanking upward she attempted to rid him of it, but for that they needed to tear their mouths apart. Bas made the move, pulling back enough so that she could get that shirt over his head and her busy little fingers on his bare skin. She rubbed along the back of his shoulders where she knew his tattoo began. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, licking and biting her skin there. His hands moved downward until he was lifting one of her legs, pulling it up past his thighs to wrap around his waist.