Blackblood Bear (A Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance) (The Agency Book 2) (4 page)

***

“I can’t stop thinking about her,” he said into the silence.

“About whom?” Connor asked, munching on some food or another loudly enough to be audible over their mics.

“Her,” he said forcefully, his eyes watching the house from his vantage point in the park across the street.

“Oh, that her,” Connor said. He was watching the rear of the house.

The single row of three-story homes in his section of downtown King City didn’t have much going for them. They were old, and while not in disrepair, the upkeep on them was certainly lacking as well. It was the little details that gave it away as an Agency stronghold. A new door, painted the color of the old one, but clearly made of high-strength steel, opened and closed much slower than a normal door. Or the window shutters. Again, painted to look old, but also made of military-grade materials. Justin suspected the windows themselves were bulletproof, but there was no way to test that theory without revealing himself.

There were more oddities, like the fact that so far two cars had entered a garage that could only fit one. Or that no one had emerged from the garage, even though it wasn’t visibly attached to any other building. Perhaps it was the shrubs out front that were positioned exactly four feet apart, which just so happened to be the necessary distance between auto-rising pillars, that would prevent any cars from ramming the place. There was no doubt about it; this was an Agency stronghold.

“Yeah, her,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“So go see her,” Connor said, the words partially garbled as he spoke with a full mouth.

“I’m kind of busy right now,” he explained, then his expression soured. “Though there doesn’t seem to be any excess activity going on here, does there?”

Connor responded with an agreement, just a noise at first as he finished chewing. “No, just the normal stuff. If they’ve got a big boss man here. Their extra security is far better than anything we could detect.”

Justin was forced to agree with him.

“Okay, let’s go downtown then,” he said, getting up from his prone position on the park bench, where he had been pretending to have a nap. His clothing was ragged and torn, making him look like a homeless person instead of the shifter he was. The only thing giving him away was his size, but he had affected a hunched-over limp that helped to disguise that fact, especially from a distance.

He kept up the act until he was out of sight of the Agency building. Then he doffed his disguise and fired up his spare bike. The first one was going to be out of commission for a while, so he had to take gentle care of this one, or else go back to using a truck.

Not an option. Two wheels or none!

“How did you know that she was the one for you?” he asked, speaking loudly to ensure he was heard over the roar of his bike as he cautiously threaded his way through traffic, ensuring he didn’t do anything to draw attention to himself.

They were headed downtown now, to the core, where the Agency’s headquarters building was. It would be much easier for them to watch it in concealment, but at the same time, they were venturing onto enemy turf. They had to be cautious, doing nothing to reveal their abilities where an Agent might be watching.

“Are you serious?” Connor asked from the relative quiet of his truck’s cab. “You’ve met this girl once. Don’t you think you might be rushing it?”

“Answer the question, Bravo,” he said, using Connor’s call-sign, as they were out in public.

There was a long pause. “It was her eyes, Charlie,” he said at last, using Justin’s own call-sign, letting him know he wasn’t happy about being forced into answering.

Her eyes.
Once more he was looking up into those greenish-blue eyes.

A horn sounded and he shook himself. The traffic light was green and he was holding people up. Cursing himself, he sped ahead, waving an apology behind him. He was in the heart of the lair now, less than a block from the building.

“I’m at the target,” he said as it came into view.

It was a squat building, no more than seven or eight floors, painted a dull off-white, almost cement-like color. It looked as brooding as those who inhabited it.

“I have two visible guards on either side of the entry ramp. But there are two SUVs parked on the road as well. They look loaded. Probably a quick-response team of some sort.”

The building was on the corner of two major streets. One side, the one Justin was slowly cruising by, had the vehicle entry ramp. The other one, that Connor would be going by shortly, had the personnel entry.

“I have heavy activity,” Connor said, his voice quiet in Justin’s ear.

“Are you whispering?” he asked incredulously.

“Fuck you, I counted almost two dozen men in the lobby of the place, not to mention the half dozen or more loitering around outside, doing their best to seem inconspicuous. What the hell is going on?” Connor hissed back at him.

“Bigwigs in town,” Justin said. “We have to be right. They wouldn’t have this much security out front and visible. They must have all their teams on alert, or else these guys brought a lot of reinforcements with them when they arrived.”

There was silence for a bit as they contemplated the implications of that.

“So when are you going to see her again?” Connor asked as they circled around. They switched sides this time, so that each side of the building had two separate sets of eyes upon it.

Later, at night, Jared and Josh would do the same thing, to see what changed after dark at each of the three known Agency strongholds.

Justin felt the same sort of tension well up within him as he cruised by the lobby. The sight of so many Agents, many of whom he knew had to be aided by the Extremis serum, was definitely nerve-racking.

He began to fervently hope that Valen would release that second Sentinel team. There were a lot more men than expected.

“I’ve seen enough here,” he muttered. “Let’s go try the shipyard, shall we?”

“If we must,” Connor said, though Justin was sure he was already heading that way.

The Coleforn Shipyard, an Agency front, was quickly developing a reputation amongst the Underground. Several times now it had played a critical role in their actions against the Agency. Justin hoped that one day they would get around to just wiping it off the map.

“So, no plans to see her?” Connor pressed as they quickly made their way toward the harbor front, leaving the crowding of downtown behind.

Justin frowned. “She didn’t give me a number,” he admitted. “Said she didn’t have one, so she gave me her hotel room instead.”

Connor chuckled. “Sounds like you’re in, buddy.”

He snarled. “It’s not like that. I mean, it’s not-not like that, I hope. She’s stunning, and her hips…” he trailed off, catching himself. “But I don’t want to assume that. So I need to go over in the morning, I guess. Which means I have to wait until tomorrow. But I have to go early.”

“Why?” Connor asked, not teasing him at all for once.

Perhaps it’s because of his recent experience in this sort of situation.

“She’s here looking for her dad. I guess he disappeared? I’m sure she’s out during the days. I can’t go at night, because that’s just rude and presumptive,” he said.

“Ah,” was the only response he received.

Sometimes he just wanted to punch Connor. For a friend, he wasn’t being all that helpful.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he snarled.

Connor snorted loud enough for it to be audible.

With an angry growl he poured on some speed, losing himself in the whistle of the wind as it whipped by, tugging at his jacket and rattling the visor in his helmet. Inside, his bear thrashed and roared, angry at his friend’s attitude toward this mysterious woman.
It
knew that there was something special about her.

“How does it feel about her?” Connor’s voice said after several minutes.

Justin arched an eyebrow inside his helmet. His friend’s tone sounded almost…apologetic. He considered his answer, not needing clarification as to what Connor meant when he said “it.”

“Alive,” he said at last. “Anytime she enters my mind, it’s there, making its presence known.”

“It likes her.” It wasn’t a question from Connor, but a statement.

“What it knows of her, yes,” he admitted, revealing that his bear was interested in knowing more about Shay. Unfortunately, it was hard to distinguish between his bear’s primal desires. It could just want him to mount her, and he would never know the difference. The “communication” between his bear and his human side was primitive, to put it bluntly. He could differentiate between hungry and horny, but after that, things got a little blurry. Horny could mean something as simple as needing a partner for the night. But it could also mean that it had found a mate for life that would always make him horny.

He didn’t trust its opinion on Shay just yet.

Justin slowed as he approached the harbor front industrial area. The public and fishing docks to the west were far busier, but it was here where the Agency had established themselves. The flow of transport trucks grew thicker, a constant press of big rigs shipping freshly offloaded goods across the country to their final destinations.

“How are we supposed to see anything here?” Connor complained.

Justin didn’t object. Connor had had a bad experience with Maddy at the docks. He couldn’t blame him for not wanting to be nearby. He also had a point. The fence that surrounded the Agency facility here was solid steel, instead of chain link. There was nothing to be seen from street level. In addition, the entrance was heavily fortified. The single-lane entrance had high towers overlooking each side of it, along with a walkway that went across the entrance, providing an easily defensible location for the Agency.

Assaulting the shipyard, if it ever came to that, would be a costly process. He shuddered at the thought as it loomed up over him on his left. Despite his unease being near it, he had to agree with Connor.

“We’re not going to see shit here,” he said. “Maybe a vehicle or two going in or out, but that’ll be about it. I think it was pretty obvious that the action was all downtown.”

He was frustrated. The past few hours had felt like a waste of his time. He was glad to have been able to talk to Connor a bit, as much as they were likely to, at this point. Not that deep conversations on emotions were a common occurrence between shifters, but if it were to happen, it was going to be over the course of several bottles of beer.

“Thanks,” he said aloud.

Connor grunted. It was all that needed to be said between them.

“Let’s find a place to stakeout and watch the place for an hour. Then we’ll call it a day.”

“Sounds good,” he acknowledged. “You take first watch, and I’ll go get us some food.”

Connor grunted again.

With a flick of his wrist, he accelerated down the road, heading past the industrial sections toward the tourist areas, where he could get them some quality food. The single sandwich shop near the Coleforn Shipyards was…not exactly known for its good food.

His eyes roamed the sides of the street, trying to decide where to go.

Something caught his eye, and he slammed on the brakes, wheeling the bike sideways as he skidded to a stop in the middle of the street. Around him tires squealed as cars slammed on their brakes, followed a split second later by horns filling the air with their angry voices.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked, moving off the street without thinking about it. His attention was locked elsewhere.

“What? Everything okay?” Connor’s voice came back almost immediately.

“I’ll call you back. I owe you big time,” he said, pulling off his helmet and snagging the key from his bike’s ignition.

He jogged up the sidewalk a short way, laying his hand on the shoulder of the person who had caught his eye, and spinning them around.

Shay

She spun at the touch, jumping in shock as her gaze locked onto a pair of grayish-blue eyes set into a gorgeous face. It was mounted atop the body of a god, with more thick muscles and bulging power than she thought was fair to exist in a single man.

“Hi,” Justin Renne—
like the pasta
, she thought—said to her.

“Hi,” she echoed, words failing her as she realized she was still holding onto his hand, having grabbed it when it fell on her shoulder.

Awkwardly she let it drop from her grip, her own hands staying down at her sides.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

His voice washed over her like the fresh water of a spring, bringing her skin to life as tingles broke out all over her body. Swallowing, she worked some saliva into her suddenly dry mouth, forcing it to make noises that he could hopefully understand.

“I’m, uh, looking to see if anyone has seen my father,” she said. “He mentioned coming to the harbor several times.” She shrugged. “It’s a long shot, but I have to try. So far though, I’m coming up short. I was just about to give up and have some dinner.”

Justin brightened visibly at the change of subject.

“Let’s go get some food,” he suggested, “then, if I can get off work, I’ll help you look for your father.”

She frowned. “You’re working right now?”

He shrugged. “Sort of.”

Shay thought she heard a buzzing in his ear. “Is everything okay?”

Turning, he pointed out the earbud lodged into his right ear. “Just my partner asking who I’m talking to.” He then reached up to his neck and seemed to flick something. “There, now he can’t hear us.”

She smiled. “What do you do, Mr. Renne? So mysterious. Your partner, earpieces, and secret communications. So mysterious.”

Her voice was light, but Shay knew she should be very worried by everything she had just said.

So why do I suddenly feel calmer, safer, and more at ease with him around?

“I try,” he said with a wink. “I can tell you that what I do helps many others. I’m a good guy,” he said seriously.

To her continued surprise, Shay found that she believed him. Realizing that she was still holding the picture of her father in her other hand, Shay stuffed it away into a pocket and smiled at him.

“Dinner you say?” she asked. If she got him to sit down for a period of time, then perhaps she could get a bit more information out of the secretive shifter. “Know anywhere good?”

Justin positively beamed at her words, looking extremely happy. “I sure do,” he said. “This way,” he said, gesturing with one arm down the street, toward the thick of the marketplace. “You’re okay with seafood?”

Shay laughed. “Well, we’re in the harbor district. So I may as well see what your city has to offer.”

They walked along the street. Around them, the signs of commerce were everywhere. Vendors hawked their wares at passersby. Fresh fruits and foods from dozens of countries were on display, each one looking more tantalizing than the next. Elsewhere store owners proudly served customers, showering them with gratitude for their purchases.

Flags of all shapes, sizes, and colors whipped in the wind, creating a craze of color that should have assaulted her senses, but instead made her feel like she was exploring a new country with every few steps. The smells of hot spices made her eyes water at one stop, and the sizzle of fresh meat on a grill made her salivate at the next.

Street performers abounded, the sounds of their native music blending together in a whirl of noise that seemed pulse from the very walls of the buildings, giving everything a fairy tale aspect to it.

“This is incredible,” she said, subconsciously leaning closer to Justin as they passed a spinning man, whirling around a fiery stick as he went, drawing patterns in the air.

The big shifter stood tall, the crowd splitting around them as they moved upstream with an ease that would make the salmon in the bin next to her jealous. His presence kept her calm as they moved. Dependable. Reliable. Two words that came to mind just then when she thought of him.

Sexy. Gorgeous. Those work as well.
She pushed back against her internal voice, not willing to give in to its thoughts.

Not yet.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve come here and just enjoyed it for what it is,” he rumbled, his own voice sounding humbled by the throng of humanity around them.

“You don’t get out much, do you?” she asked softly during a momentary lull in the background roar.

He looked downcast for a second, but quickly covered it up. “No,” he admitted. “Not much.”

Shay frowned. He wasn’t lying to her; she had never gotten that sense from him, but he was definitely holding back. There was something about his work that was eating away at him, that he was uncomfortable with. Was it the secrecy, having to keep it all from her? Or was there something about the job itself that bugged him?

A street performer bumped into Justin from the side. Although Justin barely budged as he swayed lightly in her direction, it was enough for their arms to come into contact. As they did, her fingers brushed the back of his hand, sending an electric shock racing up her arm and spreading out into her core, leaving a visible presence behind. Goose bumps rose along her exposed skin, and her nipples hardened instantly in arousal as she inhaled sharply at the jolting sensation.

That was immediately followed by another thought. He’s so
hot.
His skin had literally been near feverish to the touch, so much so that she had felt it with such brief contact. Even now as she looked at him, Shay expected to see the air shimmer with the heat he had to be exuding.

“Whoa,” she whispered to herself.

“What was that?” Justin said, turning to face her. He had half-turned to put himself fully between her and the street performer, who was now apologizing profusely to the colossal mound of muscle he had collided with.

“Nothing,” she said far too quickly, trying to keep her face calm and cool.

You will not turn into a giddy little girl who just caught the eye of the captain of the football team. You will not. You won’t. You—

Oh hell, it wasn’t every day someone like Justin walked into her life. She was melting already as his eyes fixed on her once more, a muddling pile of goo that he could have done anything to just then.

Her stomach rumbled, signaling it was hungry, and suddenly the moment passed. Her defenses and inner strength returned to her with a snap that straightened her spine.

“Food?” she asked, trying to act like she hadn’t just done what she did.

Justin arched an eyebrow, flashed her a smile, and pointed. “Two places up,” he announced, starting forward again.

Phew, that was close.
He had caught on that something was happening in her brain, but it would seem like he didn’t actually know, which worked out just fine for her. She could go another date or two before completely embarrassing herself.

“Sammie’s Shellfish and Eatery,” she said, reading the sign as he showed her inside. “Sounds good to me.”

The inside was typical of a small ethnic waterfront restaurant, clean but well-used tables and chairs lined the left-hand side. There were two bigger ones near the door, then a small handful of four-seater booths after that. To her right were two bar stool-style tables. The bar was next, and behind that was the kitchen. It was small, seating no more than forty people at absolute maximum.

Two fans spun crazily from the roof, the sole source of air movement in the place. The temperature immediately climbed as the door closed behind them. Part of her idly wondered why it wasn’t propped open. There was a chalkboard that told them to seat themselves, and they did, with Justin showing her toward one of the booths on her left.

“Interesting décor,” she said, eyeing up the vintage wallpaper that showed a picture story of what looked to be a ship chasing after a giant squid. It was faded and yellowing along the edges, but not quite ready to start peeling.  “Oh my,” she said in surprise, looking at the giant squid that was painted onto the table in exquisite detail.

“It’s something else, isn’t it?” he said with a chuckle, pulling the chair out for her before she could seat herself.

Shay smiled shyly at his chivalrous action. It was unnecessary; she was more than capable of seating herself of course, but something about the casual, caring manner with which he moved to do it told her this wasn’t him trying to show off, but simply a part of who he was.

Her stomach fluttered as he sat down opposite her, his muscular form overflowing from the small chair. Big forearms placed themselves on the table, corded muscle in plain sight. All she had to do was reach out a few inches to touch him, to feel the firmness of his physique. It would be so easy…

Something buzzed in his pocket, causing Justin to sit upright, his spine rigidly locking. He continued to stare at her, ignoring it, even though she could hear it from across the table.

“Ah, menus,” he said awkwardly, picking up the laminated sheet from in front of him, pointedly not reaching for his pocket.

It buzzed again, and he jerked in place.

Shay arched an eyebrow at him the next time he glanced at her. “Do you need to get that?”

“No,” he said tightly, saying one thing but clearly meaning another.

“Pick it up,” she said gently. “They wouldn’t be calling you if it weren’t some sort of emergency. Is it your mysterious super-secret spy agency calling?”

That brought a more natural smile to his face, his shoulders bouncing as he laughed. “Yes, yes it is.”

“So then answer,” she urged, reaching out and pushing his hands back from the middle of the table, trying not to shiver with delight as she touched him, her fingers tingling from the contact.

“Are you sure?” he said, looking regretful.

“Yes!” she said firmly. “You’re still supposed to be working, so they’re probably going to fire you for slacking off to come take me to dinner. I refuse to be responsible for you losing your job.”

“They might find firing me a bit difficult,” he said with a grin. Then he sagged in a combination of relief and apology. “Thank you,” he said, pulling the phone from his pocket with one hand.

His other hand reached out, resting gently atop one of hers for a long, drawn-out moment as he put the phone up to his ear. Shay couldn’t hear what was said, but it wouldn’t have mattered if they were yelling in her ear. Her attention was focused on the table between them, where Justin’s hand was casually folding around hers, as if completely at random.

She jumped when his hand suddenly tightened. Her eyes jumped to his face, which was also looking slightly drawn. He said a few words into the phone, then put it away.

“You have to go.” It wasn’t a question.

He winced. “I have to go.” His voice was tinged with frustration.

“Work?” she asked.

“Family.” He frowned. “Which is also sort of work.” Justin shook his head. “It’s complicated.”

Shay smiled gently. “Come find me when you’re actually off work,” she teased, using her hands to shoo him toward the door. Shay didn’t
want
him to leave, but whatever it was, it seemed important. The fact that he had already skipped out on work once to spend time with her was charming enough. She could tell he would prefer to stay with her, but obviously he had a strong sense of loyalty to whatever, or whomever it was that had called.

So mysterious.

“I’ll find you again,” he promised, rising from the table and looking unhappy about it.

“I know. Now go!” she urged, not wanting him to get in trouble on her behalf. Any
more
trouble, that was.

He hesitated, then dropped his hand back over hers, gave it a gentle squeeze as he looked into her eyes, then darted from the restaurant with a speed that surprised her. Whatever it was, it must have been more urgent than she imagined.

She watched him go.

Who are you, Justin Renne?