Undercover Magic (3 page)

"Unfortunately, the manufacturing and peddling of drugs derived from our venom is
punishable by death under vampire law," he said. "Due to the blunderings of your government,
I now find myself in an inconvenient position. It will not take my Emperor long to
wonder if I, too, am involved in this distasteful affair."

His gaze narrowed. "Get me the name of the individual who had the audacity to link
my name to such depravity. Prove that your beloved Agent Daine is innocent of participating.
If so, I will do what I can to clear his name. But if he's guilty...." He gave an
elegant shrug. "You have four days."

"What if I can't?"

With apparent indifference, he gracefully moved to his comfortable sofa and seated
himself, as elegant as any Regency lord. "I have a terrible tendency to do dreadful
things to people's loved ones when I get cranky."

I dove for the bar. Rolling across the top, I grabbed my Browning and came up with
it aimed at Bellmonte. He was still lounging like the prince of the palace, unfazed
by any threat I cared to throw at him.

Snagging my computer, I backed cautiously toward the elevator. As I went, I engaged
the needle discharge chamber and set the green vile, loading it for vamp.

"I'll be in touch." I hit the call button with my elbow.

"I can hardly express how delighted I am that you're willing to cooperate."

The elevator doors opened and I stepped aboard. "Go screw yourself, Bellmonte," I
said as they slid shut.

*  *  *

I climbed up what I hoped would be my last fire escape of the night. At least this
one was solidly attached to the building.

About seven floors up on the top floor, a locked window beckoned. The apartment behind
it was dark. Nothing stirred on the street below or the roof. Of course, looks could
be deceiving.

When I reached the last platform, I crouched down outside the window and leaned my
computer against the building. Drawing my gun, I took a nice, steadying breath and
carefully pressed in the code into the keypad attached to the frame. Any mistakes
and the traps triggered around it, killing me instantly. To my relief, the window
glided silently up.

I vaulted into the apartment, grabbed my computer and shut the window. As the locks
and traps reengaged, I closed the curtains. If anyone wanted to spy on me, I wanted
to make it as difficult as possible for them.

After dropping my computer onto the bed, I left the bedroom and did a sweep through
the apartment. My office and apartment probably under surveillance, this was my new
home for the next couple of days. I needed to focus on making sure the place hadn't
been compromised.

As I moved through the safe house Cooper and I had established barely a month ago,
I was relieved to see that dust was where it should be, no fingerprints were in evidence,
and nothing had moved. Perfect, except there was no sign of Cooper.

I told myself I was an idiot for getting my hopes up. The chance that he'd be able
to keep our agreement to meet with all hell breaking loose was slim to none. I'd rather
have him safe. The pit of my stomach still felt empty.

I holstered my Browning and wandered into the kitchen to make myself something to
eat. We always kept plenty of shelf items, including canned meats and freeze-dried
packaged meals like the military favored.

Chicken noodle soup sounded like a good place to start. I got down the container and
was about to put water in the teakettle when I heard the faltering creak of a floorboard
from the bedroom.

My gun was in my hand and I was down behind the counter before I'd taken my next breath.
My heart pounded as I focused on the sound. Someone—or something—was in the apartment
with me.

A dresser drawer opened and closed in the bedroom. That ruled out critters, which
wasn't comforting. To cover any possibility, I checked to make sure my gun was keyed
to bullets and crept my way toward the bedroom. I approached the door from the side
and slid around the frame just far enough to see into the room.

The broad muscled back and nicely shaped butt of a beautiful man greeted me and I
felt my tension drain away. Cooper bent his head with its thick brown, black and silver
brindled hair over the dresser and rifled through the top drawer.

I holstered my weapon. "You might as well turn around. I know you can smell me."

"Yes. Yes, I can." He glanced over his shoulder revealing silver-green wolf eyes and
flashed a grin at me that made a warm fuzzy feeling of belonging roll around in my
chest despite my anxiety.

"Too bad I don't have time to get you into the shower," he said, a growly note of
flirtation in his voice.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorframe. "I love it when you talk dirty.
Speaking of which, there's a rumor going around about you."

"Did you destroy the FBI iC I gave you?"

"Track me once, shame on you. Track me twice...."

"Glad you remembered that." He started pawing through the drawer again.

"Who's framing you, Cooper?"

His gaze hit me, intense and full of emotion, then his shoulders relaxed. He understood
that I believed he was innocent and that meant something to him. My heart unexpectedly
went soft and misty around the edges.

"Probably the man behind the curtain who's putting amped up V on the street," he said,
pulling T-shirts and sweatpants out of the drawer and bundling them up.

"You're smart to run." What Bellmonte couldn't find, Bellmonte couldn't hurt.

"It's gone too far for that."

What? Fear and anger tightened in my stomach, chasing away my moment of relief. "It's
not wrong to protect yourself."

He shoved the drawer shut and then headed for the closet. "They're watching your office
and apartment," he said as he pulled out two backpacks. "You'll have to keep moving.
They want to question you."

"Tell me you're not going to step into the line of fire."

He headed for the bedroom door. Without thinking, I blocked his way. I needed to stop
him. He would risk his life for what he believed in. I couldn't let him do that.

"We can disappear," I said.

"No."

"When I was ten, I survived with the terrorist paranormals roaming the streets hungry
for human meat. I know how to get around without being seen. We have safe houses like
this all over the city. I have caches of food and arms even you don't know about."
I clenched my teeth, desperately wanting him to understand what I could barely admit
myself—I didn't think I could stand to lose him. "We can vanish. I'm good at it."

His expression softened. "I know." Cooper traced the tips of his fingers down my cheek
and the pain gripping my gut compressed into an unbearable ache.

He moved me firmly to one side and strode out of the bedroom and into the main room
of the apartment. I followed him, watching with a sickening kind of helplessness as
he tossed a backpack onto the sofa and then combed quickly through the apartment,
exchanging items already in the emergency pack with other supplies here and there.
He dug two iCs out of the back of a kitchen drawer and tossed one to me. I caught
it and stared at the dull, black surface.

"Lord Bellmonte might be involved," he said.

I activated the untraceable iC used by Cooper's clan and slipped it into my pocket.
"He's promised to hurt people I care about if I don't produce whoever's responsible
for the drug."

"He can try. My money's on you."

Small comfort. I picked up a discarded ration pack of freeze-dried mac and cheese
that Cooper had tossed down and stuffed it into the other pack for Falcon. I felt
forlorn and I didn't like it. I frowned at the pack. "You can't protect the people
you love when they won't cooperate."

He was instantly beside me. Dropping his pack, he pulled me against his chest. "Cooperation
is overrated," he rumbled. "It's more fun to outmaneuver."

His lips came down on mine, possessive and hungry. Our tongues danced together as
my mouth slanted across his and heat washed over me, making my breath catch. Too soon
he broke away, the lingering warmth on my lips laced with bitter sorrow.

Cooper leaned back and his gaze swept over my face as if he wanted to memorize every
detail of it. Then he grabbed his backpack off the floor and forged past me into the
bedroom.

"Trust Ms. Fairview. She'll help you if she can." He headed for the window and something
tightened in my chest like a fist squeezing the last drop of happiness out of my heart.

I followed him and stopped in the doorway. This was insane. I had to stop him.

Drawing my gun, I keyed it to load Were poison. The slim vial of shimmering gold liquid
clicked into place. If I had to knock him out to protect him, I would.

I aimed the weapon at Cooper. "I can make you do the right thing."

He keyed in the lock code at the window. The sash slid silently up. "I already am."

"Not for us."

He looked at me, duty and longing battling in his silver-green eyes. "I'm sorry."

I lowered my gun, the painful clenching in my gut rising up to tighten my throat.
He swung his leg over the sill and looked at me, long and hard. The trust I saw in
his eyes burned into me. "Number 53 in forty-eight hours. I'll be there if I can."
And he was gone.

Despite myself, I ran to the window. "Damn it, Cooper!"

Helpless to stop him, all I could do was watch as he sprang from the fire escape to
the edge of the roof two stories higher—something ten times more amazing than what
I'd accomplished earlier.

Another man, deeply tanned with a crescent moon tattooed on his left cheek, met Cooper
at the edge and gave him a hand up.

Together, they disappeared from sight.

CHAPTER THREE

The bliss of leaving responsibility behind and thinking only of Addison was a luxury
Cooper couldn't indulge in. What he'd told her was right—there was too much at stake.

He crouched down next to Marc on the flat tar surface of the roof. As he shrugged
into the pack he'd filled up at the apartment, he diligently stuffed down the temptation
to do exactly what Addison wanted. The bliss of leaving responsibility behind and
thinking only of her was a luxury he couldn't indulge in.

That didn't change the fact that leaving her felt like his heart had been ripped out
of his chest.

His clan's second Beta and now his assigned bodyguard studied him in the weak moonlight,
his gaze missing nothing. The dark-skinned Aussie was the best of the best and Cooper
was grateful to have him watching his back. He could do without the censuring looks,
though.

"What?" he finally said, his annoyance leaking into his tone.

Marc raised a brow and adjusted his own backpack so the straps didn't block access
to any of the numerous weapons he always carried. At first glance, his arsenal didn't
look too bad—nothing but a high-powered Glock and bush knife as long as his forearm.
But beneath the surface? The moon only knew.

When the ex-para fighter had shown up earlier at Cooper's stakeout at the school,
he'd known something was seriously wrong. When he'd given the emergency code for time-to-get-the-hell-out-of-there,
Cooper had dropped everything and gone, only taking time to text Addison a warning.

Clan always came first. It had to. That didn't make jumping out of her life any easier.

"How'd she take it?" Marc rumbled.

"No problem."

"You didn't tell her," he stated.

"There wasn't time."

"With all due respect, sir, she deserves to know. It could put her at risk."

"I know that," Cooper snapped, immediately feeling stupid for losing control.

Above the crescent moon tattooed on his cheek, the Were Panther's dark eyes glittered
in the ambient city light as his constantly diligent gaze swept over the rooftops
around them. "It's getting worse."

"You have no idea," Cooper gritted out. It wasn't Marc's fault. It wasn't anyone's
fault except maybe his. If he'd known a simple attraction would cause—

He couldn't think about that now. He had to focus. He was overreacting. He was misreading
the feelings pounding in his blood making him crazy. Bondings were never one-sided.
This would pass. It was impossible for it to last.

He got to his feet and Marc did the same, thankfully keeping his own counsel. Any
word against Addison was likely to set him off, and he didn't have time for that kind
of weakness.

Without warning, the back of his neck tingled and a scent like rancid meat touched
his senses and was gone. He and Marc dove for the roof.

A whisper of sound and then a bullet hummed over his head, exploding in the gravel
in front of him. Cooper rolled to one side and Marc to the other and they came up
running.

Another shot, another heartbeat, and they'd cleared the building and disappeared over
the edge.

He hoped the bastard followed them.

*  *  *

The shot hit the roof of the building across from the apartment and anger surged through
me. At this rate I might as well strap the Browning to my palm and be done with it.

Drawing my weapon, I armed it with a green liquid-filled vial and climbed silently
out of the window. As quietly as I could, I hoisted myself onto the railing of the
fire escape platform outside my window and grabbed the top of the window frame with
my free hand. Using the slats of the shutters on either side of the window as toe
holds, I leveraged myself up until I could just see across the top of the roof.

Bingo.

Carefully shifting my weight to press my stomach tightly against the side of the building,
I stretched my arms onto the roof to steady my shot and gripped the gun in both hands.
I focused my attention on the crouched figure intently scanning the surrounding rooftops.

Slowly, I squeezed down on the trigger and fired.

The shadowed figure flinched and spun toward me, fangs extending as his face contorted.
He made a leap toward me and crumpled to the roof. I holstered my gun and heaved myself
up. Strolling over to the prone figure, I pushed him onto his back with the toe of
my boot.

I unclipped one of the PRCs from the back of my belt and locked it around the guy's
neck. Immediately, his features smoothed out into the average looking face of a guy
with brown hair and no distinguishing marks or characteristics whatsoever. A face
that could blend in with any crowd. A face that was easily forgotten. An assassin's
face.

Aiming my iC at him, I snapped a picture and then dialed a number. "Your assassin
missed," I said when the voicemail of the private line picked up. "My next shot kills
him." I pressed send on the picture and disconnected.

Crouching down next to the unconscious vampire, I struggled with the dark and dangerous
fire burning in my gut. I wanted to kill Bellmonte. He'd tried to hurt Cooper.

My iC buzzed in my hand. I activated it and put it to my ear. "You're losing your
touch, Regent. No Cooper, no leverage," I said.

"On the inside of his right wrist, what mark does he wear?" he asked.

The note of concern in Bellmonte's voice surprised me enough that I checked the assassin's
wrist. "Triangle with a circle in it. Doesn't look a thing like you." Dead silence
greeted this announcement and I wondered if the esteemed Sir Pisshead had dropped
his phone. "Hello?"

"He is not mine."

I was surprised from my justified miff to hear actual concern in the vampire's voice.

The assassin stirred and I backed up a few steps. His eyes opened, reflecting transitory
confusion. I saw the moment when a flash of panic went through them as he realized
he'd been collared.

"It seems that we have another player on the field," Bellmonte continued over the
phone.

I aimed my gun at the collared vamp. His gaze met mine and he bit down hard on his
back teeth. Bright red blood seeped onto his lips and he gagged. I shot to my feet,
jumping back as his body gave a violent spasm. A second later, he was dead.

"Well, that sucks."

"Indeed. Before he regains consciousness, find a way to keep his mouth in the open
position," Bellmonte said.

Thick, black coagulated fluid seeped out of the dead vamp's mouth and ears as his
head lolled to the side. I took another step back. Gross.

"Too late," I said.

I could almost feel the heat of Bellmonte's frustration through the phone. Normally
that would make me a happy girl. Looking at the dead vamp, I had a feeling that what
had just happened was not going to do the cause of justice any services.

"Leverage incapable of pain is quite inconvenient," Bellmonte said in a tight voice.

"He bit down on something before I could stop him."

"Certainly he did. The dedication and skill of our assassins are beyond reproach.
It was your job to prevent such a thing."

I stepped up to the body and nudged it with my foot. "Whatever he took worked fast.
What was it?"

"Information of that nature in your hands? I shudder to think." He paused and then
released a long-suffering sigh. "It is now urgent for you to identify the criminal
behind this organization."

I squatted down and disengaged my PRC from the corpse's neck.  "You seem to be under
the illusion that I'm one of your fawning acolytes, Bellmonte." I hooked the collar
to the back of my belt. "Do your own dirty work."

"The fact that the individual behind this attack wants your lover dead is not adequate
motivation?"

"Another vamp's plugger encroached on your territory. Hasn't that pushed me off your
list of entertainments?"

"Get me the name, Ms. Kittner. I assure you I also have no difficulty killing innocent
men."

"He's a big boy. He can take care of himself." And I meant it.

"He is not the only creature you care about."

My heart jumped into my throat as he disconnected. I stared at the phone. He wouldn't.
No one could be that brutal.

I remembered Wizard's trusting green eyes gazing up into mine that morning as she
purred next to me on the couch. I felt a little sick. My scorn for Bellmonte hardened,
reminding me of how much I hated monsters.

Cooper could take care of himself. Others I loved could not. I had to focus on them
right now. I had to keep them safe.

*  *  *

Thin early morning light dressed the city with the fresh hope of a new day as I watched
a hoverbus glide past on the street outside Falcon's shop. The side of the bus was
decorated with a poster announcing a new terminal coming soon at the edge of the city.
The picture of the smiling, sharp-featured, middle-aged man responsible for this wonder,
Jacob Laswell, seemed to watch me with hard eyes. I pulled deeper into the shadows
of the recessed door to a shop. I felt stupid for thinking he could actually see me.
On the other hand, with practitioners, you could never tell.

My friend's place of business, Magical Gadgets and Bits, looked like the freakish
result of an illicit affair between an antique store and a new age shop. Elaborate
grates covered the glass front, the metal designs a complex weaving of mystical symbols
both common and uncommon. A sign across the door warned patrons not to stare at the
barrier too long unless they wanted a blistering headache for their trouble.

Behind me, close to the wall, my cat carrier rocked and rustled as the only family
I had tried to get into a more comfortable position. Wizard gave a huff of annoyance
at the confinement and then settled down.

"It's for your own good," I whispered to the fluffy tabby. "She'll spoil you rotten.
You'll love it."

Across the street and to the left, Ms. Fairview, a slender middle-aged woman with
short grey hair, relaxed outside a small coffee shop. She sipped from a ceramic mug
like she didn't have a care in the world while she watched the sparse clientele come
and go. Once Bellmonte's secretary, now Cooper's assistant, I'd only seen her flustered
once.

Today, like most days, she looked neat and orderly in a classic tweed skirt and conservative
cream-colored blouse. Whether it was testifying in court or enjoying a society tea,
Ms. Fairview looked ready for anything. I happened to know that she was also a crack
shot.

Two stores down, a man with a newspaper leaned against a lamp post. Half a block up,
another man pretended to admire a display of second-hand kitchenware in the window
of a pawn shop. They oozed FBI agents trying to blend in. Great.

I pushed the cat carrier tighter into the corner. Pulling my non-issue iC from the
front pocket of my jeans, I keyed in a number and a message. Across the street, Ms.
Fairview retrieved an identical black iC from the oversized purse next to her. She
read the message and then stared expectantly to the right and down the street. Points
for her.

The man with the newspaper and the admirer of vintage pots immediately became alert.

I slipped from my hiding place and ghosted from shadow to shadow until I was four
stores beyond the gadget shop in the opposite direction from where Ms. Fairview had
pretended her contact was coming. What I was about to do was insanely risky, but it
was the only way to make sure Bellmonte didn't hurt Wizard.

I checked the straps of my holster to make sure the Browning was secure and took off
running down the middle of the quiet street like the devil was on my tail. I knew
the FBI agents would spot me and I knew they'd chase me. 

I also knew that Ms. Fairview would calmly get up once they were gone, get Wizard
and take her to a safe place that even I wouldn't know about. I'd told her that the
fewer people who knew, the better, and she agreed. My cat would get the best of everything
and when this was over, she'd come home five pounds overweight and even more full
of herself than usual. As long as I never had to see her skinned and tortured body
hanging from the fire escape outside my apartment window, I was okay with that. More
than okay.

I glanced behind me, noted the distance between the FBI agents and me and slowed down
just enough to keep them interested.

The game was on.

*  *  *

Sweat and grime covered me, making my skin itch, and fatigue had started pulling at
my body, making every step feel like burning torture. I'd lead the agents all over
the city for the last hour. They were no match for me, they just didn't know it, poor
things. But now we'd had our fun and it was time to call it a day.