Clarity (The Admiral's Elite Book 3) (33 page)

“A situation that needs cleaned up, so Almohad calls his boy, Isaac, to take care of it.”

“Only it isn’t Isaac who answers, it’s someone else.” Ryan drummed a finger on the bar top, hope bringing that nervous energy it fueled so well.

“Where’s our proof?” Kenneth leaned back against the headboard, crossing his feet on the bedspread. “We can’t expect the guy to come running when we say we have a surprise witness, we’ll need details. Shit only the big bad would know.”

“We need to go down, check with the regulars down there. If even one of them had a friend who saw something and can ID him, maybe raise some unwanted questions, he’s going to want to make a deal with whoever has him.”

“That’s too easy.” Kenneth waved a dismissive hand.

“Easy works best.” Ryan barely spared him a glance, his focus was on Gabrielle. “Less details to go sideways.”

“Are we sure he’ll go for it?” Kenneth frowned.

Gabrielle crossed her arms
.
God I hope so
.
“Can he afford not to?”

Ryan reached behind him, grabbed Isaac’s phone from the end of the bar that extended to the desk where his control center hummed idle. “Directory registers every number Isaac called in the last two days but one. He had to have gotten the order to take out the reporter tonight. My guess is,” he shook the phone over his head, “Almohad is our mystery number.”

He had to know this was a big deal for her, something deeply personal. Even if she hadn’t shared with him who this man was, Ryan kne
w
he
r
. He knew when she struggled, and this was a big fucking struggle. Shoulders tight, arms cradling her body to keep her whirling emotions from picking her up and throwing her bodily out the window
.
Jesus, like I’m fucking Dorothy. More like Toto.

Plastic clacked on laminate, Ryan put the phone back and stood. “Let’s go.”

“What, like now?” Kenneth rolled his eyes.

Ryan answered over his shoulder, he was already typing something into his mini super system, “Yes, Princess, like now.”

“You know, I’m getting tired of all this come, do, sit, stay.” Kenneth pouted. “You forget, I’m not a dog.”

“We’re all on the same mission, Kenneth, the moody teen bit is getting beyond old,” Gabrielle sighed. “We all serve at the pleasure of the admiral, displease him and you know what happens. I think you’ve already had your one pass with that little vacation he sent you on.”

“Vacation my ass!” Kenneth was off his feet, eyes wide and black, fangs out in a blink. “Never enough to eat, only the dregs of society to feed from, not allowed out but once a week to hunt.” Spittle dripped off a fang to his chin. “No one to talk to but fucking blood bags for years.” He drew out the last word in a long hiss.

It was nearly enough to make Gabrielle feel sorry for him but she remembered the pleading eyes of his last victim, how close to attacking her he’d come when she’d shown mercy to the poor soul being drained for pleasure. So much blood wasted. The human had looked more like an office drone than meth head
.
Dregs my as
s.
Does he know I know he’s lying or has he convinced himself his torture was justified?

“Okay, party people.” Kenneth strode peaceably to the door, wrapped a hand around the handle and put a hand on his hip. “Let’s go meet some hookers.”

Whipping open the door, he swept out leaving the others gaping at the slow closing door.

“Can a vampire be bipolar?” Ryan fitted an earpiece to keep in contact out in the field.

Gabrielle shook her head. “I think the jury’s out on witches like him.”

“And Becca.”

Another rogue wave of emotion hit her hard. “Yeah, and Becca.”

He pulled the device back out of his ear, clutching it in his hand. Taking the hint, she did the same. “Who is this guy?”

“Kenneth?” She pointed at the door.

“Don’t avoid this.” He stepped into her space, not intimidating but offering strength if she needed it. “You’ve been on edge since you heard his name. Who is this guy, this Unitarian?”

Exhaustion pulled at her but it wasn’t time yet, she needed to keep it together on this last stretch. There would be no other chance like this again, she could feel it. Gabrielle crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “He’s the one who made me like this.”

“He’s your sire?” Ryan gaped. “Holy shit, Gabs, is that wise? I mean, it’s not like vamps where we can’t but it’s still really hard to defy your sire.”

“He’s not just my sire.”

“Then what do you mean he made you like this?” His brow furrowed. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not physically.”

Ryan’s jaw clenched, frustrated energy zipped through his too close body making him feel twice as big as he’d been just a moment ago. “Why are you being so cryptic? What are you hiding?” Taking hold of her arms he dipped his head to make sure he had her attention. “Do you not remember how that turned out in Wisconsin? We nearly lost you, Gabs. You can’t hide your past. Not from your team, not from me. Somebody’s going to get hurt.”

She twisted her arms, freeing them. Resting a hand on his chest to soften her message. “I do remember and that was dumb, I won’t put you in danger again, Ryan.”

Concern crossed his face and he opened his mouth to object but she knew how to shut him up. Popping up on her toes she met his lips in a quick but passionate kiss. Breaking it off, she smiled.

“Come on, let’s go get junior before he eats someone.”

Nothing to do but follow, Ryan pulled the door closed behind them hoping that wasn’t the last time he would taste her.

Chapter 32

“Seriously, Ryan, nothing?” Becca felt her eyes wet with frustrated tears. “How can we have access to every word being spoken or typed anywhere near anything electronic and we can’t find one man?”

“Can’t Kyle find him?”

Biting her lip, she counted to three. It wasn’t his fault no one could locate Michael or that her brother was at ground zero for a drone strike. She forced a breath in, then out. “No, Kyle hasn’t heard anything, he says there’s too much interference or maybe his phone is off.”

“Mikey never turns off his phone,” Ryan echoed the exact thought that had been haunting her for the last few hours since they’d parted ways at the embassy.

“I know, Ryan,” she whispered into her phone, comm off as was procedure between actions. Couldn’t have the battery go out when they were in the thick of it. “I’m scared something happened, maybe they got him at the embassy and he’s sitting in lock up somewhere.”

“If they did, I feel sorry for whoever’s got cell duty and doubly sorry for whoever gets the call from Black to let his boy go.” She could hear his smile.

It was contagious; she let out a breath it felt like she’d been holding for weeks. “Yeah, you’re probably right, I know. But this thing just feels like it’s so much bigger than we’re seeing. Do you get that too?”

“Like we’re just seeing one tiny corner of the map and we’re trying to navigate? Yeah, I’m getting that vibe.” His turn to sigh heavily. “I shouldn’t have come out to do the hooker interviews I can go back and monitor the old airwaves for signs of Mike.”

“There’s something I haven’t told you yet,” she confessed, feeling guilty for having made him feel guilty. “Kyle’s glued to his monitors for now, he’s waiting to hear when the drone strike is set to hit.” Words filtered through guilt and worry. “Wait, why are you interviewing hookers?”

“What drone strike?”

“Reece is dead. Reyes is on the wrong side. They’ve decided they don’t want us out of business, they want us out of existence. Reyes’ boss has him working on a drone strike on the estate. Kyle is monitoring official and unofficial channels waiting to hear when there’s a ‘training run’ at his coordinates.” Saying it aloud brought back the swirling churning in her guts that two people she loved dearly were in danger and there was nothing she could do to save them but wait. Wait for something to happen and pray it wasn’t too late
.
This panic spiral isn’t helping anyone. Better to get out and do something than pace in this hotel room waiting
.
“What are you doing looking for hookers?” She smoothed the light blue cotton sweater she’d thrown on with jeans and low heeled black moto boots. Better suited for their line of work than this evening’s previous garb.

Ryan filled her in on their end.

“So this Almohad guy pretty much thinks he can do whatever he wants,” she surmised.

“Pretty much,” Ryan agreed, not sounding very hopeful.

“Suddenly this isn’t a different a mission than any other. Out of control bad guy needs taken out, doesn’t matter how high up the food chain he is.”

“I like how you think, young grasshopper.”

“Since we’re all on the same trail at this point and I’m alone for the time being, I’ll come to you. Where are you?”

Ryan gave her that too. “Becca.”

“What?”

“We’ll find him.”

“I know.” She sniffed back the tears all too close tonight. “On my way.” And hung up.

***

Becca arrived at the waterfront just after sunrise, following the smell of degradation and fear. Upon arrival, she texted Ryan. He told her where to find them, sent a picture from the hospital of the victim and another of their guy’s driver’s license. Isaac, Almohad’s go to boy, was the face they had so there they would start. Ryan recommended which area she could work, each had a section. Divide and conquer.

A young man stood apart from a mixed group of similarly aged men of varying flavors. Something for everyone’s taste. They eyed her with suspicion. She walked closer, he turned his head, scanned, and dismissed her. Not his clientele. Oddly enough, the rejection stung just a tiny bit. She stopped in front of him.

“Excuse me.”

“We don’t do fish here.” Not bothering to even look her way, he rubbed a hand on the leg of his skinny jeans and eyed a small blue hatchback trolling slowly up the cobblestone street.

“You did not just call me that,” she gaped.

“You heard me, move on. This isn’t your scene and we don’t do gawkers, either.”

The hatchback slowed and he moved to the curb. The window lowered and a shadow leaned over from the driver’s seat.

“Looking for company?” the prostitute leaned down, letting the deep v of his green tee fall open. Let the customers eye the merchandise.

Not a prude, Becca still found the concept of shopping for human flesh, a human selling himself even if only for an hour or two, deeply disturbing. That and he was a prick to her. They were at the very least equals, both had a master to serve, sometimes resulting in kissing someone’s ass. He didn’t have to be a dick.

She took a few steps toward the curb and breathed deep. “I can’t believe you gave me gonorrhea, Joey! Again! You asshole!”

He pulled back from the car just as it screeched away. “What the hell, bitch?” Advancing on her, fists clenched, the feminine, nearly catlike face stormy. Becca remained loose. This she could do, violence suited her just fine tonight. “Are you crazy?”