Black Market Bear (A BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance) (Genesis Valley Book 2) (4 page)

Arianna shook him off. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

He nodded. “Okay, well, shall we head over there then?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “We?”

Ajax made a show of looking around the coffee shop, which clearly had nobody else in it. “Yep,” he said jovially after a moment.

“That is not a place for me,” she said, shaking her head constantly.

“It’s a lead!” His fist hit the table, causing her coffee cup to jump slightly. “Come on, we need to go check it out.”

Arianna bit her lip as she thought about it, her gaze focusing somewhere he couldn’t see. “Why don’t you just go and take a look?” she asked nervously.

“Because I don’t know this city, or the people in it,” he explained. “Come on, let’s go check out this fancy place, see if we can’t bring them down a notch.” By this point, he had no idea what he was saying. He was just doing it to try and make her smile.

It worked, but the grin faded quickly. “Even if I did go, we can’t go tonight.”

“Um, why not?”

“Because it’s not the weekend. The odds are against anyone being there tonight who is ‘in the know.’ They’ll be there Friday and Saturday for sure though. I’m not going twice,” she stated firmly. “So tomorrow.”

Ajax shrugged. “Okay, tomorrow it is.”

Arianna did not seem impressed, but she nodded her agreement, moving to get up from her seat.

“So, what do I do during the day tomorrow while I wait? Is there anywhere to see?”

He kept the smile from his face as Arianna paused her movement, then slid back into the chair and began to tell him about King City.

Arianna

Stacks of paper and file folders rose up around her like the walls of a castle.

Or a jail cell.

She didn’t want to be there. Not that day. Instead, she wished to be out following up the leads on this missing shifter case. But Dan, her boss, had said no rather emphatically several times now. He didn’t think there was anything to it, and that she was making it up. He said she needed to find something else, and that she should search the conspiracy forums and boards they knew about.

Looking around her at the dreary office, Arianna had a hard time believing that this was what her life had come to. A 4.0 GPA and an Honor’s Degree in Journalism had led her to this. Living in a shithole, working in a shithole, and going absolutely nowhere in life. She was going to be thirty next year.
Thirty
.

It wasn’t that she was unhappy with her lot in life. She enjoyed digging for leads and compiling stories. That was
fun.
She didn’t like the rundown apartment, falling asleep to gunshots, or the constant vehicular breakdowns. Those she could do without. Closing her eyes, she leaned back as far as the rickety desk chair would allow, careful not to put too much weight on the back of the seat, lest it break and send her tumbling to the floor. Again.

In the corner behind her an old fan whirred noisily, slowly moving the soupy air around in an attempt to keep her and her co-worker comfortable. It was unbearably hot that day, and they had no air conditioner of course. Not even a window to open. It was just the three of them: her, Dan the boss, and James, the IT and website guy. That was it. They were crammed into the little office space. There was a two-foot pathway from the door outside, down between their desks, and ending at the other door that led to Dan’s office.

Glancing up, she eyed the drooping ceiling tile above her desk, wondering if today would be the day that it fell out. They had an office bet going on to see when it would fall. After it did, they would be at an even amount of ceiling tiles versus empty spaces. She knew. She had counted it. Six times. That morning.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, pushing back her chair and forcing her way between her desk and the wall behind her until she could bang on Dan’s door.

“What the fuck do you want?” came the harried response from inside.

Dan always sounded like that. He was well into his fifties, and this was his life legacy. She knew he was tired and frustrated with life, but that he didn’t know what to do about it. He kept hoping they would break with the story of the century and make a killing from it. That was never going to happen, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him. He was an ass, but to her and James, he was
their
ass. Sort of.

“I want to talk,” she said as soon as she opened the door.

“Listen, Ari, dear, this had better not be about that damn shifter guy again,” he said. “I need you to find me something else. What about that alien spotted on the yacht in the harbor yesterday?”

“What?” she asked dully. That was a new one.

“What the hell do I pay you for?” he asked, slamming the phone down.

She hadn’t even realized he was on the phone. Had he just been holding it there?

“You pay me to find stories. I’m telling you, I’ve found you a story,” she persisted.

“You have nothing,” he told her. “You’ve been after me for a week now to do this, and you haven’t turned up a single fucking thing, besides the fact that this guy is missing. Missing people happen. It’s nothing.”

Arianna crossed her arms angrily. “Oh, is that so?”

“Yes, Arianna. That is ‘so.’ Now go find me something printable. I’m tired of this shifter nonsense. That was so ten years ago. These days people want
more.
Do you understand me?”

Squaring her shoulders, she stood her ground. “No, Dan. They don’t know what it’s about. Especially if there’s something to it.”

“But there isn’t a damn thing to it!” he yelled, his voice filling the tiny room, bouncing off the metal filing cabinets that filled the back wall.

“Can you two keep it down in there?” James said through the open door. “I’m trying to get some work done here.”

Dan snatched the paperweight off his desk and threw it through the door as close to James’s direction as he could.

His eyes narrowed immediately. “What? What did you do?”

“What if I told you that someone else from out of town had come looking for him?”

“That’s it?” he said, his expression of interest fading immediately as he sat upright in his chair, dismissing her with a wave.

“He’s another shifter.” She wasn’t budging. Not this time.

Her boss considered her for a moment. “You really think you’re on to something?”

She nodded firmly.

“Two days. You have
two
days, Ari. Bring me something, or you’re making up for the time on your own dime.”

“Done.” She didn’t even flinch at the deal. If there was any truth to this, she would make a good chunk of change from the revenue the story would bring her company. That was no small consideration. She had rent to pay.

“So what else do you have, besides this other guy showing up? Have you talked to him yet?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Apparently his friend, who was this missing guy’s friend, asked him to come take a look since he was on vacation to begin with.”

“That’s it?” Dan looked rather skeptical.

“Mostly. He gave him a list of places to check out. Most of them are dives, which is to be expected.”

“Most of them?”

She held back a smile. Dan was in it now; he’d taken the bait. She knew he was seeing what she was seeing. They were on to something.

“Yeah. All but one. Route Fifty.”

Dan whistled. “That is a little different. When are you going there?”

“Tonight,” she said. “Once anyone who’s anyone will be there.”

The bad toupee seated atop Dan’s head bobbed slightly as he nodded his head in agreement. “Good work. Very good work.” His eyes looked her up and down. “You do have something better than that to wear, don’t you, Ari?”

She gritted her teeth. She didn’t mind being called Ari, but he always did it like he was talking down to her, and it drove her nuts.

“Something wrong with my outfit?” she asked, looking at the clothes she was wearing.

“You don’t go to a place like Route Fifty wearing a rumpled T-shirt, pants with stains on them, and whatever those things are,” he said with a wave at her sneakers.

“Sure I do,” she said. “I’m not dressing up for anyone.”

Rolling her eyes as Dan began to go on a tirade of dressing the part, she turned and left the office.

“Goodbye, Dan,” she said loudly over his protests, and fled the office, closing the door firmly behind her.

“Route Fifty?” James said as she took a seat back at her dilapidated desk, her mood brightened by her approval to pursue the story she truly wanted. “That’s an upscale place. You’re really going to wear that?”

She glared at him. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? It’s just a club, James. I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m going to be dancing or anything. It’s for work.”

James looked skeptical at her claim, then shrugged his shoulders and resumed typing away on his keyboard.

It was just for work. They were going to go in, ask for Benjamin, and leave.

Weren’t they?

***

“Shit,” she cursed aloud.

She had nothing to wear.

“Why did I have to listen to them?” she complained out loud, rifling through her closet once more, trying to find something,
anything
that would be appropriate for the evening.

There was nothing. Arianna Jones did
not
go clubbing. She went to the sports bar three blocks away and drank beer and played pool. That was her lifestyle, and even then, that was when she had some extra cash to burn, which wasn’t very often.

The double doors to her closet hung open. The racks were filled and hangers covered the open space. But it was all T-shirts and jeans. There were no dresses. She wasn’t comfortable wearing them. No skirts either. Frowning, she picked out the cleanest shirt she could find, and put on a pair of jeans that, though not skinny jeans, at least didn’t hang off of her like most of the ones she preferred.

I showered and washed my hair. How much more can be expected of me anyway? It’s not like Mr. Handso—
Ajax
—is going to be focused on me anyway. There’s going to be a veritable buffet awaiting someone like him when he walks inside.

Whipping the outfit on, she breathed a sigh of relief that it still fit since she hadn’t worn either in quite some time. Arianna proceeded to pull her hair back into its customary tight ponytail, and then settled her glasses on her face.

“Good enough,” she muttered, grabbing her purse and pencil from the shelf near the door. The beaten red purse fell comfortably across her shoulder and the pencil clipped easily to the pocket on the right side of her shirt. All of Arianna’s shirts had pockets on the breast. She had to carry her pencil somewhere handy. Pockets worked best.

A quick call summoned a taxi to her house a few minutes later.

“Route Fifty,” she told him, then pointedly ignored the astonished stare the driver gave her.

After a minute of hesitation he shrugged and headed out. Arianna barely noticed. Her mind was elsewhere. She was focused on the issue at hand. What the hell had happened to Benjamin? But there was more to it than that. If the government or a corporation
had
taken him and the other shifters, and they
were
experimenting on them—if those were true—the question then changed.

What the hell are they trying to accomplish?

She made a mental note to ask Ajax about that, to see if he had heard any rumors about what they might be trying to do with the shifters when they got them. Mind control, perhaps? To use them to sneak into various places and perform assassinations? It seemed unlikely to most, but Arianna lived in the world of unlikely, impossible, and “I don’t believe that.” There was far more going on than most people were willing to admit.

“Route Fifty,” the taxi driver said as they pulled up in front of the nightclub twenty minutes later.

Once again ignoring his look, she paid him and got out, extremely conscious of how much money she was putting out to chase down this lead. Taxis were not cheap.

The first thing that hit her was the noise. Or lack thereof. Arianna had expected the whole building and area nearby to be practically thumping with the bass of club music. Instead, she could hear people chatting excitedly while they waited in line to get in. There was the sound of expensive cars as well, pulling up in front. She watched as several foreign sports cars, each likely worth more than she would ever be, pulled up, disgorging men in fancy suits and copious amounts of scantily clad women.

“This is ridiculous. I don’t belong here,” she muttered, turning to go. She would let Ajax handle this end of things. It would be perfect for him. She put her head down and headed back down the sidewalk.

“Hey, where you going?”

She looked up to see Ajax standing in front of her, arms spread wide. The first thing that stuck out was his suit.

“Where did you get
that
from?” she asked. He had been wearing a black T-shirt and jeans the day before.

Now he was wearing a very expensive-looking suit. It was a dark silver-metallic gray with black piping and silver pinstripes. Under it was a dark purple shirt, unbuttoned at the top, sans tie. Glossy black shoes completed the ensemble.

“You said this place was upscale,” he said with a frown. “So I went and got something.”

“Just like that?” she asked, looking him over again. He looked
good
. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to know how much it had cost.

“Well, I found a suit store, got measured, had it tailored. So I mean, it didn’t just come off a rack.” He looked confused. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” she said, wondering if it was possible for her to be any more self-conscious than she already was. It seemed unlikely, but life kept surprising her.

“Okay, so, should we go in then? I got us on the guest list.”

Arianna’s eyebrows shot up. “You did? How did you manage that? This place is supposed to have a guest list months in advance!”

He shrugged. “I talked the talk,” he said, falling in step beside her, all but forcing her to turn back and head toward the door.

“You bribed someone, you mean,” she said, picking up on his meaning.

“Bribing is such a…nasty-sounding word, don’t you think?” he said, tossing her a wink that made her stomach flip flop in place. “Let’s just say that I came to a mutual agreement with one of the excellent employees.”

Arianna looked at him in askance, but didn’t protest the point any longer. In fact, this one worked in her favor. It meant she didn’t have to wait in line while being subjected to judgmental glares from the other women about what she was—or in this case was
not
—wearing. They could be in and out sooner, which meant she could go home sooner.

True to Ajax’s word, he gave his name to the doorman and they were immediately ushered inside. They passed through several layers of glass and other soundproofed walls. Once they emerged past the last, that’s when the music hit her.

“Weird.”

“What’s that?” Ajax asked as they scanned the club.

“I expected the music to be louder.” It was loud, but they were carrying on a normal conversation, only having to raise their voices slightly to be heard.

“Me too,” he said. “Okay, come on, let’s go.”

Arianna glanced at him, then his outstretched arm, then back up at him. “What’s this for?”

“Take my arm. Act like we’re together. It’ll allow us to blend better with the crowd.”

“Us? Blend?” She looked around at all the women in short dresses or skirts, dancing on every conceivable surface she could find. “Do you see this?” she waved at them. “And this?” she waved at herself.

“Yes, I do,” he said seriously, as if he didn’t care. “Now come be my date for the evening and let’s scope this joint out.”

Who is this guy?
She asked herself, caving and taking his arm, careful not to caress his strongly muscled arm as she allowed herself to be escorted away from the entrance. The pair plunged into the sea of people, allowing the atmosphere to cascade over them.

The question of just who Ajax was reverberated in her mind. He remained intent and focused, his concentration never slipping, despite the copious amounts of eye candy on display. There were several women that Arianna found herself distracted by, yet Ajax never seemed to care. His attention was on the club itself, and her. Always making sure that she was with him, never allowing her to get left behind when they couldn’t stay linked together.

It was…chivalrous of him. That was the best word to describe his actions she decided, even if it didn’t entirely fit.

“So, where do we begin?” she asked once they had made a half circuit around the club.

“There,” he said, nodding his head across to the far side.

He didn’t point, and as her eyes focused on where he was looking, Arianna realized why.