Passion's Prey: The Shadow Shifters (31 page)

She opened her mouth to speak and he kissed her lips hard. Resting his forehead against hers for a few seconds after the kiss, he said, “It’s too dangerous. You stay and help Ary get the medical center ready in case there are injuries.”

“Rome,” she started.

He shook his head. “No, Kalina. I don’t care how much training you have on these streets. There’s no way I can do this if I’m worried about you getting hurt. I need you to stay here. I need you to do this for me, baby. Please.”

Rome understood her need to work, to fight beside him; he knew that urge and respected it. But she was his wife, his First Female, and he would not risk her for anything in this world.

When she nodded her agreement, cupping his face and kissing his cheek, he realized how much he truly loved this amazing woman.

“I’ll be waiting,” she told him quietly. “I’ll be right here waiting.”

*   *   *

“Caprise is with X,” Nick said the moment he disconnected the call.

Ary had already gotten out of bed and was slipping into dark blue scrubs and black Alegria nursing clogs.

“Then she’s safe,” she told him as she pulled her hair back and secured it tightly in a ponytail.

Nick was already dressed. He reached into his closet, all the way in the back where he kept his personal firearm. Nick was accustomed to carrying his weapon when they were out at public events, and even more so lately. He checked the nine-millimeter for bullets and made sure to put the safety back on before tucking it in the back band of his dark jeans.

“She should come here to wait with you and Kalina,” he said, moving toward the door, then stopping to wait for Ary.

She walked slower these days, her stomach protruding a little more each day. Despite the circumstances, as he watched her, Nick’s excitement piqued. He couldn’t wait to see what he and Ary had created.

“Do you really think Caprise is going to come back here to twiddle her thumbs with us?” she asked, moving by him and looking up with a smile.

Nick shrugged. “I can only hope.”

*   *   *

X disconnected the call with Nick and instantly got out of bed. Caprise, of course, was right behind him. They hadn’t been asleep, far from it actually. After their lovemaking, which she was intent on calling it no matter what X said, they’d showered together. When he’d had that shower designed, he never imagined he’d enjoy it so much more with a female beside him. But not just any female; it only worked because it was Caprise. He knew that now without any doubt.

“What’s happening?” she asked, standing in front of him as he tried to make his way to the door.

She was gloriously naked, not a modest bone in her entire body. God, he was crazy about this woman.

“Rome got a tip about Sabar making a deal tonight. We’re going to head him off,” he told her honestly. There really wasn’t any other way to be with Caprise. For a woman who hadn’t wanted to tell him about her own past, she’d been like a pit bull trying to get the details of his, and she hadn’t done background checks and phone searches like him. She’d simply gotten in his face and hadn’t backed down. He had to respect a woman for that type of tenacity.

“Okay, I’ll get dressed,” she said immediately.

Her bag that Seth had brought over a week ago still sat in the corner of his bedroom. X had a feeling more of her things would soon occupy the space and miraculously wasn’t bothered by that fact.

“Caprise, this is going to be dangerous,” he told her, reaching for his own jeans out of the closet.

“I know. I’ll get my gun.”

X hadn’t been facing her, but he turned quickly at her words. “Your what? You have a gun?”

She nodded as she pushed her leg into her jeans. Her breasts were still bare and for a minute distracted the hell out of X.

“Yeah, I carry a Glock 19. I don’t like to carry heavy. This fits my hand like a glove. Don’t worry, I’m good,” she said after pulling the weapon from her purse.

He was already shaking his head. “No.”

“No, what?”

“No. You’re not going. Take my truck and go to Havenway. I’ll get Nick or one of the guards to swing by here and get me.”

“That’s ridiculous. We’re going together,” she said, pulling a shirt over her head.

Oh, hell no, she was out of her mind if she thought she was going to this fight with him. And wearing no bra at that. Shit, he’d never keep his mind straight knowing that.

“Caprise, listen, you’re not a trained guard.”

“I’m going with you,” she said simply, pulling her hair back and twisting it into some kind of knot with one of those elastic bands she had a ton of.

“No, you’re not,” he said adamantly.

“I am.” She nodded and turned away from him to pull boots out of her bag. She sat down to lace them up, and X moved closer to her.

“Look, we’re cool on the mating thing now. You’re a part of me that I don’t want to lose just yet. So I’m asking you nicely to go to Havenway and wait for me there.”

She looked up, a smile spreading quickly over her face. He liked seeing her smile, liked the way her dark eyes lifted with the action, how her teeth were all white and straight, her pert nose spreading only slightly. She was fucking beautiful. But hardheaded as hell.

She kissed him quickly on the lips. “I’m going. If you’re coming you better hurry up and get dressed.”

X was still standing there wondering what he was going to do with her when she’d left the bedroom.

Chapter 27

Friday, 11:45
PM

They’d driven through a neighborhood that looked like it had seen better days. Even in the dark of night Sabar could see the remnants of urban decay. He picked up the scent of alcohol and urine and cringed. Sitting in the back of his Hummer he admitted only to himself that this headache he’d been carrying around for the last two days was a bitch. Not to mention the bouts of memory lapse he was suffering. Anything before two days ago was crystal clear. It was the last forty-eight hours that seemed like he’d walked around in a daze. He remembered meals and he remembered Bianca—nothing and nobody else. When he’d climbed into the vehicle tonight he’d caught a glimpse at Darel. The man barely looked at him, and his scent was of pure hatred. That wasn’t out of order for a Rogue, but tonight it seemed more along the offensive lines than ever.

He’d asked Bianca to come along, but she’d declined. In the back of his mind he knew he should be suspicious about that, but had decided to focus more on closing this deal. On the seat between him and Darel were two suitcases. Both were filled with cash, proceeds from their drug operation that had been growing steadily. Even in the midst of the raid on Athena’s, they were still receiving orders for shipments. Norbert Hanson was still running the lab back at Sabar’s headquarters on the outskirts of the city. Their facility there had been a steady work in progress. Darel had put a lot of time into the structural issues, picking up the security, while Sabar had planned the layout and financed the entire project. Now their lab was fully functional and they were shipping about half a million dollars’ worth of merchandise each week. The savior drug was the drug of the future and Sabar was going to make a fortune as the only supplier.

However, his plans to rule needed to be bigger, their territory expanded. Hence this deal with Kensington and his boys with the guns. Once he made this purchase he’d probably have to get rid of Kensington—that guy definitely knew too much. And he wasn’t above running his nasty mouth about Sabar and his plans and their existence. Not that Sabar was against having the existence of the Rogues known—it would happen in due time anyway—still, everything had to be planned perfectly.

“We’re almost there,” Black, the huge dark-skinned shifter that now traveled everywhere Darel did, said from the driver’s seat.

“Good,” Sabar heard himself replying. He shifted in his seat, his clothes feeling more than uncomfortable. It had been like that the last two days: Clothes were too much for him to bear. Each time he’d been awake he’d worn his silk robe and nothing else, the cool softness rubbing against his skin in a soothing manner that turned him on and baffled him at the same time. “When we get inside I’ll do all the talking,” he said.

Darel nodded.

“You carry the money and don’t give it to anyone until we see the product.”

Darel nodded again.

“And stop acting like a fucking mute!” Sabar screamed, his patience wearing thin.

When Darel’s head snapped around and he glared at Sabar, not with human eyes, but the dark green-rimmed eyes of his cat, Sabar growled back. He was sick of Darel’s bitch-ass attitude. If he had a problem with Sabar or this operation, the shifter could very well walk out the door. He was tired of giving a damn.

The corner of Darel’s mouth lifted, his eyes glinting. “Sure thing, boss,” was his reply, his New York accent a little more fluent than Sabar had ever heard it before.

It was about fifteen minutes to midnight when they pulled up to the eight-foot metal gates that looked like they surrounded the entire premise. When the Hummer drove slowly up to the speaker, everyone was quiet. Black pushed in the code that Sabar had given him, and they drove through without any problems. Kensington had given Sabar a detailed list of things for them to do tonight.

“Wasn’t the gate supposed to close?” Thunder asked, looking back as the vehicle continued forward.

“Probably staying open to let us out afterward,” Black said.

Five minutes later, after they’d parked as close to the door as they could without running up on the sidewalk, the four Rogues were entering the building, using a side door entrance that had also been outlined in Kensington’s notes. Thunder reached for the doorknob. When it turned and the door was open, Black went in first with Darel right behind him. Sabar went in next, and Thunder locked the door before following them.

It was dark and chilled in the open space. Darel used a penlight from his pocket to illuminate the way to the elevator they’d been told was at the far end of the left hallway. They boarded the elevator without any issues. By the time they stepped off, Black and Thunder were both gripping huge black guns in their hands. Sabar walked ahead of them, empty-handed.

Darel watched him move with his cocky air of superiority. He was shorter than Darel by a couple of inches, but in his ass-kicking boots no one could tell. He walked in front of them while Darel carried the two briefcases full of money. There was half a million dollars in each bag; they’d counted it for the third time about an hour ago. Sabar was buying two hundred UK79865 rifles. Once the deal was made, Sabar was hopping on a private plane and heading to Albuquerque, where he was setting up another base for his business. There were already ten Rogues there waiting for him and the shipment. Those were details Darel made sure he knew.

“They should be down here, in the last room,” Sabar said, turning down yet another long hallway.

This place seemed to be linked by one long-ass hallway after another. Darel felt like they were walking in a maze, even though they were following Kensington’s map. The place was huge and located just far enough down the winding road they’d traveled to be discreet, which he suspected was the reason Robert Slakeman had built the facility that manufactured all of his weapons here.

Sabar stopped at the door. Behind him Darel also stopped. He figured Sabar was waiting for someone to open the door. He was, after all, the boss. And Darel was so fucking fed up with this particular boss. He nodded and Thunder took a step forward, moving in front of Sabar. He touched the knob, then looked up in question before opening it.

“Well, open it, goddammit! I don’t have all night to get this done,” Sabar yelled.

Over Sabar’s head, Thunder met Darel’s gaze. With a smile, Darel nodded and Thunder pushed open the door.

*   *   *

Sidney Pierson was the only son of General Oscar Pierson, who had been forced to retire from the US Marine Corps amid allegations of torturing POWs during his last tour in Iraq three years ago. Sidney, however, had never wanted a career in the armed forces. What he wanted, and what his father had been doing a damn good job of providing despite all his other letdowns, was any- and everything he wanted, when he wanted it. He was used to living a certain lifestyle, one he wasn’t about to lose because his father was no longer a general in the marines.

General Pierson had lots of sponsors, as he liked to call them. These were people in very high places with very deep pockets, who needed favors only the general could grant. It was his father who had introduced Sidney to Bob Slakeman and it was Sidney who through his father had been brokering international deals for Slakeman. It was Ralph Kensington’s job to keep said dealings off the radar. So far, the overweight senator-elect had held up his end of the bargain.

But this time, this deal, had Sidney and his father a little shaky.

“He’s going to show,” Kensington said for the third time since they’d been holed up in this office.

Sidney was lighting his third cigarette in the last hour. On his left arm was a nicotine patch and in his back pocket were gum chunks that tasted like stale paste. And in his fingers on its way to his lips was a newly lit Newport—bad habit, too damn hard to quit, so he figured to hell with it.

“He’d better show,” he said after his first puff. “And he’d better have the money. We don’t have room for mistakes. Not tonight.” He was shaking his head, thinking of all that was riding on this deal.

His father had something else going on, something big with the government—or covertly with the government since anything on the up-and-up, the general couldn’t be involved with. The country was still at war, which meant the Piersons were still in business.

Standing to Kensington’s left was a new player, one he’d met tonight for the first time. Palmero Greer was from somewhere on the West Coast. He’d been introduced as a regional facilitator, which to Sidney meant he was a mole sent by the bigwig to make sure everything went as planned. Since he knew Bob Slakeman personally, Sidney was more than a little peeved at the man’s need to oversee one of his buys by sending Kensington and this thinly built guy wearing the shiny-ass tight suit.