The Beast Within (2 page)

Aaron swallowed hard.
Partner
. He’d known it would happen. No agent worked alone in Acquisitions and Exterminations. Still, the concreteness of Director Braven’s words turned his insides to liquid. Aaron cast a glance at the man walking beside him. Who had this guy pissed off to deserve such an albatross?

“Well, I figured I’d let you have him for a while, boss. After that I’d look like the best co-worker on earth.” Tony disarmed Braven’s scowl with another boyish grin. He turned the smile on Aaron. An almost palpable warmth radiated from that expression. “I was right, wasn’t I? I look pretty good now, don’t I?”

With a strong jaw, aquiline nose and icy blue eyes framed by a short crop of chestnut hair, Tony looked more than good. Caught in his new partner’s magnetic pull, Aaron struggled to make even the slightest sound. Before Aaron could force his vocal cords to obey, Tony recast his line in the direction of a cute, clearly non-field rated young female employee carrying a box of doughnuts.

“Hey, Claire. Hold up a minute.” Tony trotted off after the doughnut girl. He caught her at her desk, flashed her the same disarming grin that stretched up into those same disarming eyes. If Aaron’s reaction was anywhere close to that of the now flustered young woman juggling the doughnuts, he had made a complete fool of himself.

“Charismatic, that one.” Director Braven’s voice brought Aaron back to his orientation. “He plays up the coy angle, but he’s a solid specialist, well-grounded where it matters. He is a perfect match for you.”

The solid guy. A perfect match for the unstable one
. The director didn’t need to say it for it to be true.

“My office is this way,” Braven continued. “Let’s have a chat before your compatriot wrestles his focus into check and returns to finish your tour.”

Aaron followed Braven to an office adjacent to the bullpen. His last glimpse of his new partner was of Tony leaning against the female specialist’s desk, bitten doughnut in hand, laughing at the deep blush creeping up the pretty woman’s face. Aaron felt a flash of something akin to disappointment, and shuttered it off immediately. He turned into Braven’s office. She was already seated behind a plain wooden desk. Spartan bookshelves spanned the windowless wall behind her. She gestured for him to take one of the wooden chairs facing her. As he sat, Braven fiddled with the silver bracelet on her arm as a pretense at distraction. Aaron knew better.

“Tell me what happened in Salyer,” she began.

“I’m sure you read the file.” Aaron’s stomach clenched like a fist.

“Humor me,” Braven replied.

“We had picked up a case regarding unlawful supernatural activity maybe a month prior.” Aaron remained stoically focused on his superior, even though his legs trembled with the urge to bolt.
Slow and steady, avoid details. Don’t let the memories creep back in
. “The suspects involved were volatile to say the least.”
Good. Keep going, don’t think about the screams. The blood. The smell. The pain.
“They returned our interest in them with increasing enthusiasm. We reacted too late. People died.”

“And yet in the ensuing chaos, you alone emerged triumphant?”

“Triumphant?” Aaron blinked as if her upbeat summation were a physical slap. “No.”

“Alive, then,” she corrected without apology.

“Yes. Alive.”

“Well.” Braven let go of her bracelet and began organizing a pile of papers already so neatly stacked they looked like an engineer had laid them out. “You may rest assured an event like that will not occur here.”

As assured as I was five months ago that it would never happen in California?
Aaron was certain a question like that would only result in his being sent back to the staff psychiatrist for a re-eval, so he said nothing.

From the din beyond the closed door, a familiar voice made itself known. Aaron froze in his seat.

“I’ll leave you to get settled,” Braven said. “Agent Harper will see you find your desk. And you will be relieved to know a friendly face among us strangers.” Braven gestured to the windows separating her from the bullpen. As she did, that voice wormed its way into his ears, pitched high with excitement and full of forced earnestness.

Aaron turned and followed Braven’s finger, a knot of dread in his stomach telegraphing suspicion of his worst fear. There he was, standing amongst a group of agents, animatedly gesturing with his coffee mug. From his antics and the captive expressions on the agents’ faces, it was clear he was telling a story. Aaron knew from the heads swiveling toward Braven’s office, which tale he told. The storyteller turned, and suddenly Aaron met the gaze of the last person on earth he’d ever wanted to see again.

Spencer Ellison.

The second, and final, survivor of Kapre Security, Salyer, California.

Chapter Three

Partners

“There he is, the man himself.” Spencer Ellison swept in and latched his clammy, coffee mug warmed hand around the back of Aaron’s neck as he stepped out of Braven’s office. “Hey, Ar, come meet the guys.”

The forced familiarity. The casual greeting. The master-hound control. It was too much. Aaron tensed. They were all watching him. He couldn’t resist Ellison’s pull without coming off as a self-important jerk. Ellison’s hand burnt against his skin. His scent, caustic like he had scrubbed with industrial cleaners, filled Aaron’s nostrils. It took all of his willpower to not shake free and let the beast inside him tear the asshole apart.

“This is Specialist Aaron Marvell, my pal from back in Cali.” Ellison steered Aaron into the middle of the bullpen. “He’s a good boy.”

The dark thing snarled at the insinuation. Aaron clamped down on his teeth so the sound wouldn’t pass his throat.

“How ‘bout you give him a nice reception?” Ellison blithely continued. For a wonderful, fleeting moment there was silence, then their voices erupted like lava from a volcano.

“What was it like in there?”

“How did you get away?”

“Did they come in changed, or did they do it right there?”

“I heard it was orchestrated higher up. National level, maybe?”

Questions and comments swirled around Aaron like a tornado. The force of their words picked at his mind, prying away the protective layers, exposing raw, terrible memories. Aaron shook his head against the onslaught of images, placed first a hand, then a hip against a nearby desk to steady him. His stomach roiled. The dark thing shifted impatiently, anxious to break free and revel in their blood. Aaron felt a wild impulse to let it happen, but Carlos’ previous warnings arose in his mind.

‘It isn’t just about you, mi hombre guapo. Not anymore.’

Carlos was right. More injuries, more bodies would only mean trouble for all of the afflicted ones, even those who had no desire to hunt humans. Especially for them. They were wholly unprepared to be thrown into the race war that would undoubtedly arise if more humans died. Aaron clamped down on his violent desire. The dark thing raged in protest. His body trembled. Sweat broke out over his forehead. No one noticed. They kept prodding and poking while Ellison exposed both the subject and his ignorance with bawdy enthusiasm, his hand on Aaron’s neck, working the room on his behalf like a ventriloquist with a dummy.

“What was it like, seeing them come at you all at once?”

“I heard you have scars on your body that make that one on your face look like a scratch.”

“What do you remember?”

Aaron’s avoidance of breakfast no longer mattered. He was going to vomit, empty stomach or not.

“What do you all remember about doing your jobs?” The challenge drowned all out the other voices. The room fell silent. Tension filled the bullpen as twelve agents glared at Aaron’s new partner. Tony strode toward them, his face a dark cloud, challenging each in turn. One by one, the other agents broke eye contact. They returned to their desks, muttering amongst themselves. Except for Ellison. He remained right where he was, a tight grin stuck to his face, his fingers still digging deep into Aaron’s neck.

“You sure know how to bring down a party,” Ellison said. “Is that a specialty of yours?”

“Is being a coward yours?” Tony asked. He flicked Ellison’s arm away from Aaron’s neck.

“You’re a dick,” Ellison said. “Or, is it just that you suck it?”

Aaron knew by the stillness in the room that everyone was awaiting Tony’s response.

“Both,” Tony agreed lightly. “And if you actually had one you might be in trouble, sailor.” Tony gave an exaggerated wink, then dismissed Ellison by turning his torso, shuttering him off from Aaron’s sight. He caught Aaron’s eyes, reeled him in and steadied him with his gaze. “Containment has just reported a new entry incident across town. The scene is locked down, waiting for us. You want to take a minute and see your desk, or get out of here?”

“Out of here.” Aaron tried to force the words into sounding normal, but the last came out with something nearing a growl.

“My sentiments, exactly.”

Tony stretched out his arm. Aaron expected another hand to clamp onto his neck. Was it customary in Maryland to steer people around as if they had no means of self-propulsion? Or was it just his unique condition that made them feel as if he should be taken for a walk? Instead of touching him, though, Tony gestured toward the foyer.

“Let’s get you to op-tech and then we’ll take a drive.”

Chapter Four

Triggered

Op-tech turned out to be a fairly large, but spartanly outfitted lab tucked behind the main offices, in the opposite direction of the elevators. In California op-tech had been an entire floor with ten scientists, three engineers, eight mages and an ever-changing parade of assistants and interns. Here, a lone, wiry redhead in a lab coat answered the door buzzer and ushered them back to the requisition desk, past rows of counters overflowing with tools and gadgets.

“Keep to this side of the line, please,” the tech said as Aaron wandered too close to one of the tables. At the desk, he gave Aaron the briefest of curious glances before pushing a clipboard toward him. “Sign where indicated. I’ll get your field equipment.”

As Aaron scrawled his name on the sheet, Tony chatted away at the man, eventually wheedling his way past the orange stripe cordoning off the authorized-personnel-only space to better discuss the trigger mechanism on a new floor-mounted mass containment unit. Excited by his design, or lonely from life in a stainless steel isolation tank, the clerk leaped headfirst into Tony’s web, and proceeded to ramble on about his newest combinations of technology and mysticism. Tony encouraged his excitement by asking perfectly timed questions, always punctuated by a winning smile or impressed nod. In less than five minutes, the op-technician was fluttering from item to item, gushing information. Aaron watched with a mixture of amusement and irritation as he loaded the magazine and slid the gun into his new shoulder holster, then hoisted the provided kit bag onto his shoulder.

“Well, that ought to do it, huh, Aaron?” Tony called out suddenly from across the room.

“I’ve got everything I need,” he answered, confused.

“Let me know when that disruptor is ready to field test, Rob,” Tony said as he returned to the front of the counter.

Aaron felt a hand slip into his pocket. Tony, back at his side and still blathering, gave no hint of awareness of what his own hand was doing as it withdrew. A small object rested against Aaron’s hip. Aaron glanced at his partner, but Tony studiously avoided his observation.

“I’d love to check out another of your genius inventions,” Tony finished.

“You got it, hoss,” the scientist answered, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. “Bring back something big and squishy-explody to test it on.”

Aaron trailed Tony to the car pool, where the same situation played out all over again. Aaron signed the clipboard as Tony charmed his way into the best car the requisition clerk had on the lot.

“Do you do this all the time?” Aaron asked as he settled in the passenger seat.

“Do what?” Tony replied as he turned on the engine, then pulled out of the parking garage.

“Finagle your way into everyone’s goodwill?”

“Finagle?” Tony laughed. “Are you a seventy-year-old Englishman?”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“I’m charming. What can I say?”

“Seems borderline manipulative to me.”

“Manipulative?” Tony stopped at a red light and gave Aaron an uncomfortably prolonged appraising glance. “Don’t you ever use your persuasive skills in acquisitions and exterminations?”

“Always. You need every edge you can get working acqxterm cases.”

“So, why is it different socially?”

“Because they’re human beings you’re in contact with on a daily basis, not malicious demons that require unique talents to capture and kill.”

“The intent is the same.”

“That’s not a valid justification.”

“You have a lot of opinions for someone who just started this morning.”

“I
started
eight years ago.” The dark thing shifted inside him.

Be careful.
The warning voice inside his head was less frightening than it had been in the shower. Devoid of Carlos’ actual advice, his subconscious had clearly chosen Carlos as its spokesman. While the intruding voice was jarring, it was better than the ones he had heard directly after the attack. Unlike those others, Carlos’ voice offered support, rather than suggestions on how Aaron should end his miserable life.

Tony shrugged, as if Aaron’s total experience, or opinion, mattered little. Aaron clamped down on the dark thing, shoved his shoulders back into the upholstery and stared out of the window. Tony fiddled with the radio. With each passing block the tension in the car mounted, growing impossibly thick until Aaron found himself fiddling with the window button with the desire to press it and let the oppressive cloud disperse.

It wasn’t smart coming into a new workplace and attacking the morals of his new partner, especially when Tony had gone out of his way to protect him from Ellison. This man was his one shot to prove he was normal, that he wasn’t a monster, even though he was—technically. Everyone suspected what had happened in California, each had a similar theory about how he alone had survived. If he wanted to maintain his facade of normalcy, he had to resume work like nothing had ever happened to him, like he was still the same person he’d been before the attack, no matter how ridiculous the notion. Making friends with his new partner would add an extra layer of protection he desperately needed. Besides, Tony seemed like a nice guy. Aaron glanced over at his partner.