Passion's Prey: The Shadow Shifters (11 page)

Then out of nowhere the question had tumbled out of his mouth. X, of all people, knew once something was done there was no taking it back. Oddly enough, he really didn’t want to take the invite back.

“Why would I go anywhere with you?” she asked, her eyes narrowing skeptically.

He decided to try another approach with her and didn’t demand that she do what he asked. Instead, he asked in a lower voice, “What else do you have to do? Rome’s not going to allow you to go back to Athena’s.”

There was no way X was going to allow that, either, but he figured she’d swallow that comment a lot easier if it were coming from the FL.

“He can’t keep me from my job,” she protested. And in a move he didn’t anticipate she reached out, grabbing her cell phone from his hand.

X conceded and didn’t use his force to get it back. He could have, but thought it might be best to pick and choose his battles with Caprise from now on. She was hiding something, that much was evident, and until he found out exactly what, X wanted to keep her close. The only way to do that without having to hog-tie and gag her was to be as cordial as he could manage. Which wasn’t really his best act, but something told him the end would totally justify the means.

“There’s something dangerous going on at Athena’s. It’s better if you’re out of the line of fire.”

She looked worried as she turned away from him to put her cell phone on the dresser. “Look, I came back to DC to get my life back on track. If I can’t dance, I can’t do that.”

The last was spoken softly, again, as if she really hadn’t meant for him to hear it.

“It’s not safe, Caprise. You have to understand we’re only trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need any protection,” she said, spinning around to face him once more. “I’ve done a pretty damn good job of taking care of myself for the past five years. I can handle it now.”

“Can you, Caprise?” X took a step closer to her; the distance was beginning to make his cat a little edgy. “Because I’ve got to tell you, every time your phone rings or beeps you get this look in your eye.”

She tried to turn away from him. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being straight with you because I figure you can respect that since you’re all about facing the truth. I’m not trying to lie to you about what’s going on and why you need protection. So you should think long and hard about coming clean with me.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” she replied when her gaze came back to his.

“You don’t,” he agreed. “But you owe it to your brother to not jump back into his life only to get yourself killed.”

She was about to say something else but X held up a hand to stop her. His patience—what little of it he possessed—was quickly growing short. Inside, his cat was making a low growl, insisting on touching, tasting, feeling once more. X, however, did not think that was a good idea.

At that moment Caprise completely disarmed him by sighing so deeply he thought for sure tears would follow. Her right hand went to her right hip, where she rubbed absently. He’d been around a lot of females in his time and while Caprise Delgado was definitely unique even beyond her DNA, he figured he could tell when a female was about to break down.

Of course he was wrong. Caprise would never cry. Not over something like this anyway. But for just a moment she did look completely defeated, as if the right decision just could not be made clear. As if on cue to torment her further that damn cell phone chirped once more.

This time his growl was loud enough that she must have heard him, because she looked from the dresser where the phone was to X. He didn’t speak and neither did she.

Chapter 11

“So she’s a shadow,” Sabar said thoughtfully.

He was sitting at the long spit-shined oak table Bianca had purchased and moved into his dining room. They were in his brownstone in DC, the one he’d been slowly renovating since their first town house was burned to the ground by Rome and his cohorts. After Bianca’s arrival a month and a half ago, the decoration of the house had taken on a new urgency. It appeared that after living in a mansion-size dwelling in western Africa, she’d found a new hobby in decorating. Or as Darel would say, she had a knack for spending Sabar’s money. Darel needed to learn some respect where Bianca was concerned, and Sabar was just about ready to force-feed him a healthy helping of it. But right now he wanted to know what had gone down last night and why his second-in-charge was in his face telling him things he definitely did not want to hear.

“She’s a shadow,” Darel replied.

He sat in one of the high-backed chairs that Sabar had forgotten the name of. He wasn’t eating, was barely looking at Sabar. The Rogue had been acting weird since they’d fought those shadows on the highway; everything about him seemed a bit different than before. Even his hair seemed longer, more unruly, his facial features rougher, his skin just a shade darker. But that was his issue; Sabar had more important things to occupy his mind with.

“And this shifter that’s looking for her, you know more about him?”

“He’s definitely not from the Gungi. His accent’s different. And he looks weird. I can’t say if he’s a
Lormenia
or a
Croesteriia,
but he sounds like he’s from that region and he’s got cat in him.”

By
that region
Sabar knew that Darel was referring to the Etinosa, the small but burgeoning village emerging on the outskirts of the Sierra Leone rain forest in western Africa. The assumption could be true, or it could be a clever trick by the newcomer. Sabar would like to believe the latter.

“And he wants her?” he asked trying to remain focused on the here and now.

Darel nodded. “Says she’s his
companheiro
.”

Sabar scooped a forkful of eggs into his mouth and chewed, even though it was nearing five o’clock in the afternoon. He’d had a late morning in bed and now his hunger had just peaked. The cook had prepared what he’d asked for, no questions asked. Sabar wished everyone around him was that obedient. “Interesting,” he mumbled.

“He was pissed she got away, too. I mean, we wanted to get that Faction dude, but he was zapping out about losing the female.”

“Where is he now?”

“I gave him the keys to Hanson’s place. Figured you’d want to keep a close eye on him until we find out what his real deal is.”

Sabar nodded. “Good move. Put him in the club, give him a job, and watch his ass like a hawk.”

“In the club? You serious? You want him working with us?”

“I want him under my thumb. So when he makes a move I’ll be there to bust his ass.”

“That’s not the one you need to be watching that way,” Darel mumbled.

Sabar was out of his chair in a flash, his face close up to Darel’s. “What did you just say?”

To his credit, and this is why Sabar really liked this shifter, Darel didn’t flinch, he didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe out of the way. He simply stared back at Sabar. Which on the one hand was something to be proud of, and on the other …

“I think you need to keep an eye on Bianca,” Darel told him matter-of-factly.

“Bianca’s my female” was Sabar’s retort as he backed away from the table. “What’s your problem with her?”

“My problem is how she showed up out of the blue. Where’s Boden? Did he just let her go? What does she really want, Sabar?” Darel asked, the tension in his voice evident. Hell, his muscles had even bunched at the shoulders like this crazy shifter thought he was going to take a swing at him. Time to remind him who was in charge here.

“She wants me!” he yelled.

Darel nodded.

“And what else?”

Sabar didn’t answer, just flexed his fingers, claws already breaking through the skin as his cat was ready for a fight. He didn’t want to kill Darel, didn’t even want to consider the thought. But knew that if that was what needed to go down, it would. Disrespect was not something he planned to deal with lightly.

Darel seemed oblivious to Sabar’s train of thought as he continued. “Think about this: We’re trying to build something here. Our product is popular, so our territory is growing. We’re working on those fake-ass politicians to get something big set up with the weapons dealing. We’re about to be a huge force in this city and across this damn nation. And Bianca shows up just in time to reap the benefits.”

“I hear what you’re saying,” he said, only because Darel had been his trusted confidant for a while now. And Darel never let him down, ever. He knew what to do and he did it without question. Sabar respected him and wanted to keep their working relationship intact. But in this, where Bianca was concerned, there was no middle ground.

Sabar stood from his chair and leaned over the table so that his face was kissing distance away from Darel’s, his breath a breeze across the man’s ashen face.

“But she’s my female. I don’t give a damn about what happened across the seas years ago. I don’t fucking care where Boden is or if his head’s still up his ass. I’m running this shit here and that’s all that matters. You,” he said, his voice raising slightly as he pointed at Darel, “don’t say a fucking word to or against Bianca. Don’t even look at her cross-eyed or I’ll cut off your balls and feed them to you one by one. These terms are not negotiable.”

He sat down then, picking up his fork and eating another bite of eggs.

After a few seconds of silence Darel stood. “I’m going to check on Hanson and the new shipment. I’ll take the new guy with me and get him set up for tonight.”

“And if that shadow bitch shows up, tie her ass up and bring her to me. I’ll decide if Mr. New-Shifter-in-Town gets her or not.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” was Darel’s retort.

If Sabar weren’t so busy finishing off his meal and thinking about a hot-ass shifter he could sink his length into, or maybe even enjoy right alongside Bianca, he would have heard the sarcasm in Darel’s tone. He would have known that he might just need to watch his back with his second-in-command.

*   *   *

With every breath he took, pain ripped another slither of his heart. After almost five years there should be nothing left. If he keeled over and died right here, on the balcony of this substandard dwelling in this dirty and overcrowded city, they’d cut him open and see an organ the size of a penny no longer thumping, no longer living.

Pathetic, that’s exactly what Rolando was. He’d convinced himself of that as he’d finally, after spending endless days, months, looking for her in the Gungi, dragged his ass back across the country. His home was and would always be India, in the depths of the Lachli village of the rain forest where he’d been born. It wasn’t until eight years ago that he’d left the Lachli to join another group of shifters in their exploration of new territory for their kind. That venture had taken him to the Sierra Leone rain forest in Africa, where a small village of shifters had just begun to live. Then he’d ended up in the Gungi.

And he’d found Caprise.

He’d heard of
companheiros,
as the
Topètenia
called them. His life mate, that’s what he knew she was from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her. From that moment on she’d been all he could think about.

Years later, nothing had changed.

Rolando wanted her back. He wanted his mate. No, he needed her, more than he needed to breathe or to live for that matter. The instructions from his commander had been clear in the heavily accented English they both spoke.

“End this mindless search for the female. Get another one to slake your needs. We have bigger, better things to worry about.”

That’s precisely what he’d said to Rolando, two months ago. That very night Rolando had left the forest heading to the United States, where he’d had a gut feeling his beloved had returned.

And he’d been right. She was here and she was more beautiful than ever.

He had waited the allotted time those other shifters had instructed and still he’d missed her. At first that thought angered him, but now he was calm again. He was close to Caprise and she knew. Oh, yes, now she knew just how close.

His entire body tightened, his cat growling, as his tongue extended to lick his human lips.
Closure
was what the humans called what he sought. The exact name for it didn’t matter to Rolando. All that mattered was they would soon be together again. For however long revenge would take.

On his hip the cell phone, the one called Darel had given him last night, rang. He wanted to keep tabs on him; Rolando could relate. And he’d accepted it. For now.

“Yes?”

“Meet me at the club at eight. Don’t be late.”

“Right” was Rolando’s only reply. He didn’t want to go to that damn club unless Caprise was going to be there.

But she’d left with someone he’d later learned was another shifter, one with some type of rank here in the States. He wasn’t sure she’d come back to the club, not if they suspected danger, which if she left with another shifter through a damn window they probably had.

Still, it wasn’t Rolando’s goal to piss off anyone here. He just wanted his female. So for now, he’d accept the orders given by the angry-ass shifter they called Darel.

*   *   *

Darel snapped the phone closed and tossed it on the table in his apartment. He walked to the wall in his dining room and removed a picture of some sort of dogs fighting. His walls were painted a dingy green color that had appealed to him on some dismal level. Nothing in Darel’s childhood had ever been clean and pure. He embraced that fact and had long ago decided to live his adult life in the same manner.

The house his parents had was a shithole, a two-bedroom jail in the dirtiest part of Brooklyn, New York, they could find. His best friends would have been rats and roaches if he hadn’t come into his shift early and scared the bejesus out of those suckers with his sharp fangs and vicious roar. Cats and dogs roaming the neighborhood without a real home or a bath also rubbed him the wrong way, and they met a hellacious end sooner rather than later. His father was a cruel bastard, so it stood to reason Darel would turn out the same way. As for his siblings, he’d never paid too much attention to the younger brother and sister who had been cursed to be born into that household. The one he had paid a lot of attention to was his mother. He’d listened to everything Elora said, hanging on her every word as if it were the gospel, as she’d called it. But year after year, time after time, when she’d preached to him about honesty and integrity paying off in the end, Darel had begun to suspect the untruth.