Federal Paranormal Unit Bundle: Shape Shifter Paranormal Romance (17 page)

“Brock! Control yourself,” she demanded in a barely audible whisper. Her gaze darted out of the room to the work floor. No one seemed to realize what was going on in his office.

He inhaled and reined in his power. “Sorry. Got a little excited there.”

“Yeah, I know all about that.” She glanced at his lips. Seductive gold eyes met his gaze. Lust shone bright.

“Listen—”

Ringing stopped him short. She frowned, dug into her pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Her frown deepened as she pressed the talk button. “Vega.”

“Cici?”

Brock heard both sides of the conversation without a problem due to his enhanced hearing.

“Clara?”

“I need you, Cici.” The female voice on the other end of the line sounded upset.

“What’s wrong? We haven’t spoken in so long, Clara. What do you need?” Cyn rubbed a hand over her right temple, brow puckered in confusion.

“It’s my little girl, Roxy. She’s missing. I think something’s happened to her.”

“The best thing to do is call the police,” she replied slowly. “Have you tried that?”

He wondered why she was speaking as if the woman couldn’t understand.

“Yes, I did. They are looking for her boyfriend. Stupid girl,” the woman’s voice grew angry. “I told her that boy would get her into trouble. Now look at her.”

“Okay, Clara. Let me call your local police department and speak to them directly.”

“
No no no
. You have to come. You have to find her.” Clara choked out. The poor woman sounded desperate.

Cyn glanced up. Their gazes clashed. Sparks flew. She bit her lip. Confusion and concerned floated toward him, enveloping him in its grasp. Instinct urged him to hold her. Make it better. He curled his hands into fists, waiting.

“Clara, let me try the police, and then I’ll see what the best course of action is.” Her voice stayed soft and reassuring.

“Okay. I’ll wait for you, Cici.”

She disconnected the call. For a long quiet minute, she stared down at the phone lost in thought.

“Everything okay?”

Her head jerked up. “You heard. That was my aunt. I haven’t seen her in a long time. Many years.”

Emotions played across her features. Sadness. Fear. Resignation. “Will you go?”

His door burst open, saving her from answering his question.

Brock turned on his heel to face the intruder. Annoyance at having his time with her interrupted made him react. “What do you want?”

Ramirez and Donovan’s eyes widened at his loud growl.

“Sorry, boss. Didn’t realize you were busy.” Ramirez grinned over Brock’s shoulder to Cyn.

“I’m sorry, Brock.” Donovan glanced to and fro between him and Cyn. Her brows rose. She’d noticed his protective stance in front of Cyn. Fuck. Now he’d have to say something to them about her.

“Donovan, right?” Cynthia marched around him, leaving a soft trail of Jasmine as she passed him by. The scent continued to torture him with memories of watching her spraying some of the perfume over her naked body. All for him. So he could kiss every place she’d sprayed and start hours of lovemaking that would last all night.

“Er…yes.” Donovan glanced at him. There were questions in her eyes. Questions he couldn’t answer.

“I’m Cynthia Vega. The new Director and lead for the FPU.”

Donovan frowned. “Excuse me?”

Ramirez’s smiled widened. He took a step toward Cynthia, grabbed her hand, and brought it to his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Cynthia studied him for a moment. Then a smile split her lips. “You’re Ramirez.”

He bowed low. “At your service madam.”

Brock had to check his anger. He wanted to strangle his own friend. Even though he knew Ramirez wasn’t being serious, it bothered him to see him touch Cyn. She was his. Only his. Something tightened around his gut.

He had bigger problems at the moment. Control. He had to stay in control. Power pushed at his pores, seeking to destroy everything around him. That power was the reason he’d been chosen to lead the FPU. Probably the same reason Cyn was taking over now. What a joke. The heads of the Bureau wouldn’t want someone able to dish out so much destruction in charge of such a special unit. He had known it would only be a matter of time before they took his team.

“I heard about you, Ramirez.” Her voice lowered. “I know you’ve been dying to get some time off so you can go relax at your beach house.”

The vice squeezing Brock’s stomach loosened. Cynthia knew what Ramirez was about.

Donovan had been glaring at Ramirez for his overt display of affection. She smiled suddenly, her green eyes sparkling like two emeralds. There wasn’t another person in the world with Donovan’s eyes. She was unique in every way. A soft giggle escaped her.

Ramirez winked over his shoulder at Donovan. “You are more than welcome to come to my beach house with me,
princesa
.”

Cyn took a step closer to Ramirez, her posture relaxed. She was anything but. “I’ll ignore your stupidity this one time, Ramirez. Because I know you’re trying to provoke me. But be very clear.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t need to write you up or put you on unpaid time off.”

“Oh?” The cocky grin slid off Ramirez’s lips.

“I know what you are.” Her smile grew, until it showed the small dimple on her right cheek. “You need the outdoors. You need air. But if you don’t behave while I’m around, I’ll have you go work with the analysts who gather our data for us.”

Ramirez snorted. He folded his arms over his chest, large muscles contracting. “So?”

Cyn shrugged. “They work in the basement level.” Her gaze pierced Ramirez in place. “No windows. No sun. No nature.”

Brock knew she’d never do that. But her words had the desired effect. Ramirez turned pale. He glanced at Brock.

“She’s in charge. Behave.”

Cynthia jerked sideways, narrowing her eyes at him. “That goes for you too. Behave.”

If she only knew. He’d closed off his feelings for any other woman after what she’d done. His team was what mattered for the past ten years. The work they did. Saving those people who had disappeared had been his main goal in life. But now she’d returned. There was no way in hell he was going to sit by and not take advantage of that.

In order to find out why she left him, he’d need to spend time with her. Wear her down until she opened up to him. He’d find out. If it meant dragging her deliciously curvy body into his bed and doing some really unprofessional things to her, then so be it. He could live with that.

She headed for the door, stopped at the entrance, and turned to Ramirez. “Try not to get into any more trouble.” She nodded at Donovan. “Keep him in line.”

Donovan grinned. “Welcome to the team.”

“Aw, hell,” Tony groaned.

Brock watched her leave his office. His gaze immediately dropped to her ass. She still had the curves that made his mouth water. He’d always loved that about her. She wasn’t a stick figure. She was fucking hot. Cyn was tough enough to never let anyone take her for a ride. But she was also a good person. Kind. Caring. Compassionate. He’d seen that inner beauty of hers. It made him want to fight against whatever it was that drove her from him in the first place.

THREE

Cynthia tried to keep her cool as she headed for her office. After all the training and extractions she’d done, it’d suck completely for her to lose her self-control now. Dammit! She clenched her teeth. James’ body had pulverized every brain cell and shot her thoughts straight to the gutter. To that place she was familiar with—where he’d ruled her mind and body, and she’d given up all pretense of even caring that he was in control.

Her blood sizzled with awareness. It wouldn’t do her any good to give in to her desires. This was a different time. She was a different woman. James was…fucking hell! He looked so good he made her eyes water.

Memories drifted through her mind. Of all the times he’d shown her how much he wanted her. They’d been explosive in bed. Heck, they’d been explosive out of it. He’d been the only man who made her melt with a single smile. One grin and her body temperature skyrocketed. If only those feelings stayed in the past. Instead, she felt like she’d gotten an electric shock from her head to her toes. Tingles swept down her body, pooling at her core.
Carajo!
Great time for her hormones to remember he was her biggest—hell, her only, desire.

Galvez stood by her window.

Tension twisted in her stomach, into a thick uncomfortable knot that pushed her to lash out. “What are you doing here?”

He lifted a bushy dark brow. “You seem to forget who I am.”

She ground her teeth. Tomorrow she’d have a horrible pain in her jaw, but that didn’t matter right now. “I assure you, I’ve tried very hard to forget who you are, but it’s not working.”

A vein twitched on his left cheek. She watched it, fascinated.

“Cynthia, I only want to help you succeed.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need your help.”

“I want to move past this awkwardness. I want us to grow—”

“I don’t know what the heck gave you the impression I’m interested in growing anything with you, but lose that idea.”

“Cynthia, your being here means a lot to me.”

Anger urged her feet, and she marched around him to her desk to sit. Leather squeaked. She hated the tall chair. Her damn feet dangled. At five–two, she knew she was short, but that chair just made her feel like a midget.

“Look, Galvez, we both know you are only interested in what you want.” She adjusted the chair until her feet touched the carpet. “Now, what do you want?”

“I know you don’t believe me, but I want to see you succeed with the FPU.”

“I already met half of the team. We’ll get along fine. I don’t need hand holding.” Not that he’d ever tried any kind of niceties with her.

“I’ve heard about Ramirez, and his little Casanova ways.”

She stopped searching through her files to glance up at him. “Ramirez is one of the best field operatives. I’ve read his file. He and Buchanan work as a team. In and out. No messes. No problems.”

Galvez’s features tightened. “He’s also a flirt.”

“Not everybody is perfect.” She flung back. “You certainly aren’t.”

They had a staring contest that lasted a long tense moment. She curled her fingers into fists, nails biting into her palms.

“Let me know if you need my help.”

Of course she would. When hell froze over. “Anything else?”

“Yes. Keep me abreast of all that goes on with the team.”

She took a breath and counted to ten backward and forward before replying. Her attempt at tamping down the surge of anger hadn’t worked well. “How many times do I have to tell you, you’re not my boss?” Heat kissed her cheeks. Her temperature had risen to the point she knew sweat would start gathering on her upper lip. She tried not to growl when she spoke. “This is my team. I do things my way. If I have a problem, I will let Wheeler know.”

Galvez marched to the door. His pristine, black suit only made his brown skin appear even darker. He gripped the handle. “Don’t forget why you’re here.”

Was he for real? Like she could.

“Oh, I won’t.” She got out through gritted teeth. “I’m here to lead a team of paranormal agents. You, on the other hand, are here to piss me off.”

He jerked the wooden door open. “I’ll be watching you.”

“I’ve no doubt you will.”

Would he leave already and stop his stupid taunts? He marched off in silence. Rage licked at her skin. She wasn’t one to anger easily, but Galvez just pushed the buttons that made her want to pull out some missiles and go World War III on him.

She sat there, silent. Galvez might be a jerk, but he had pull. No matter what happened, she needed to keep her team under control. If she didn’t, they’d surely remove her, and only God knew who they’d put in charge.

Buzzing sounded from her pocket. Shit. She’d forgotten Clara. She sent Donovan a message, asking her to pull up the missing person’s report and email it to her. A few moments later an envelope popped up on her screen. It was the missing person’s report for Roxana Santos.

Her sixteen-year-old cousin had been missing for two days. Aunt Clara had reported her missing yesterday. No definitive information on who might know where the teen had gone.

Sixteen and missing. She reached for the phone, dialed the Holy Oaks Police Department, and waited. Ten frustrating minutes later she had no more information than she’d had before. She gripped the squishy stress ball from her desk and hurled it at her door. At the same time it opened. Brock’s hand shot out and caught it.

“Nice shot. Didn’t realize you knew it was me.”

She licked her lips. Christ how was she gonna survive this day from hell? Fuck. She tried really hard not to ogle him again, but failed miserably. “I didn’t. What can I do for you?”

“What’s wrong?” His brows dipped low. Muscles shifted under the black T-shirt. Big smooth muscles. Muscles she knew were warm to touch. Her throat dried like the flames from yesterday had licked away all the moisture.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

She tried to blink the vision of his naked body away. Her brain focused on the image of his tight pecs and six-pack abs. Of the dark lines tattooed on his arms and chest. Jesus. She would never get any work done with that on her mind. She blinked. Only now her focus moved to his hands. Those big hands with thick digits. Oh, hell no. Don’t even go there. Don’t think of sex. Don’t think of sex. She was screwed. The things those hands had done to her had been magical.

“Something’s clearly wrong. I sensed your fear when I walked in the door.”

Yeah, and he probably smelled her arousal right about now. If only she could control her hormones like she should, everything would be fine. Instead, an insane mental storm of adult rated memories sat at the front of her mind. They were the really good kind too. Incredible memories bombarded her mind, the type where he’d given her multiple orgasms of the screaming kind.

“My cousin. She’s missing.”

He entered her office the rest of the way. She watched him. With a loud click, he shut the door and moved closer to her.

“The call you got earlier?”

She nodded. “She’s been missing for two days.”

He leaned on the door, arms folded over his big chest. “Any clues where she could be?”

“No.”

Brock’s face was incredibly sexy. A decade later, and he still had that bad-boy expression that had made her heart beat double-time from the first glimpse she’d had of his face.

“No?”

“What?”

He grinned. Shit. She’d lost track of the conversation. There was no helping it. All those muscles. That mouth. Those hands. And if she thought of body parts lower than his belly button, he’d know for sure she was turned on.

“I mean” —she cleared her throat— “that the police are very limited on what they have found. They’re going through places she might be at or people who may know where she is.”

“But?”

She sighed. “But they’re thinking she ran away.”

His dark gaze held hers. “You don’t believe that’s possible?”

Goosebumps broke over her arms. His low voice had that effect on her. “I don’t know.” She ran restless fingers through her hair. “Clara sounded sure something had gone wrong. That’s what worries me.”

“What are you thinking of doing?”

She grinned. He’d known she wouldn’t sit by and let something happen to a family member. It was nice to see he hadn’t forgotten that about her.

“I’ll have to go see for myself. Try to figure it out and decide if there’s a bigger case there. Maybe something that was overlooked.”

“Cyn—”

“Save it, Brock.” She gathered the papers she’d been sent over email. “I’m going.”

“Fine.”

“I wasn’t asking permission, you know.”

“I’m coming with you.”

She glanced up, jaw hanging. “I didn’t ask for your backup either. This isn’t even an FPU case. It’s probably a short trip that will end with me finding Roxy at a friend’s house or something.”

“Great. I’m still coming with you.”

“That isn’t necessary.” She argued. “I’m the lead here, Brock. My rules, remember?”

“I’ll let you believe that, if it makes you happy.”

She growled and slapped her hands on her hips. “You’ve gotten full of yourself in our time apart.”

“Not really. I know what I’m doing.” He unfolded his arms and dug his hands into his pockets. His arm muscles bunched with the move. “You might need me.”

Her breath caught at the concern in his eyes. She couldn’t fight his need to protect her. It was the type of man he was. How in the world had she been able to stay away from him?

“I can take care of myself.” She tried to sound less hostile. He only wanted to help.

“Good to know.” His sinful lips flattened into that line that told her he wasn’t backing down. “I’m still coming.”

“You are so…so—”

“Coming.”

She ground her teeth. “Suit yourself, then.”

* * *

Cyn woke bathed in cold sweat. Fear, pain, and despair filled her chest to near bursting. She reached for the sleep log with shaky fingers. Sitting up in a rush, she attempted to take down details of her dream. She’d tried her best to use her gift to make some sense out of her dreams of the future. Success had been marginal. If only she could remember things with more detail.

Her phone rang. Anxiety spiked inside her. A quick glance at the screen, and her fear subsided. Marginally. Tonya knew when to call to add some paranoia into her life.

“Tell me everything.”

She shut her eyes to her surroundings and retreated into the memories.

“There were two voices. A softer voice I couldn’t quite make out, but I swear it sounded familiar. The other was just this evil laughter.”

“How did you feel when you heard it?”

“Like something terrible was about to happen.”

Oxygen fought its way into her lungs. Her heartbeat pounded loud in her ears. Fear would only keep her from getting her work done. She had to push it aside. Remember. Even if it felt like she was opening the doors to hell. She needed to know.

“What else did you see?” Tonya’s tone was soothing. She’d done this so many times. She and Tonya shared a link due to their similar gifts. They didn’t have the same dreams. But when one dreamed of the future, the other did too.

“A doll.”

“What kind of doll?”

Another shrill dose of fear wrapped around her in a chokehold. “An old-fashioned material doll. Dirty. Falling apart. Old.”

The image was significant. She bit her lip. Something about the doll stood out. She couldn’t figure out what. It had a regular little dress. Nothing special. She could tell the raggedy toy had been through some serious use. One button eye was ready to fall off. Hair made of string had been bound into pig tails by two old ribbons.

“Can you see anything else?”

Her mind fought to stay with the thin thread of images. Shadows crowded the edges of her brain. Panic started to take hold. Remember.

“A hand. I think I saw a hand. It was really fast.”

“Describe it for me.”

She groaned, frustrated. “I can’t. It’s too dark. There’s not enough that I can make out anything useful.”

“Relax your mind, Cyn.”

Multiple breaths didn’t help. She lost the few memories. Only darkness remained. Darkness that haunted her dreams. That hunted her.

“Goddammit!”

“You need to calm down. Anger won’t help you release your memories from wherever you’re storing them.”

She sighed. That dream was not coming to her tonight.

“Thanks for calling.”

“I’m here for you.”

She clung to the peace listening to Tonya’s voice brought to her. She wanted to hug her friend. A shiver racked her. “I know.”

* * *

The next morning, Cynthia opened her front door to find Brock leaning on the hood of her car. His broad, muscular frame was covered in head to toe black. Not that the color did anything to hide his abundant hotness. He met her gaze, pinning him with a profound stare.