Hunger's Mate (4 page)

“But your face looks like you haven't slept in days. What gives?” Bas continued with his accurate—even if annoying as hell—assessment of him.

“I'm tired. Jet lag,” he replied, trying for a nonchalant air as he sat back in the chair, bringing one ankle to rest on his knee.

“You've been here for weeks, you should be over the jet lag by now. It's something else.”

Bas sat back in his chair, smoothing his own butter-yellow tie as he did so. He was looking at Ezra as if he could possibly see through to his inner thoughts, could push past all the physical mojo to get to what was inside Ezra's head.

“I'm fine. I just want to get to the lab so we can find out what's going on in there,” he told him finally, with a look that he hoped conveyed how he did not want to continue this line of discussion.

Jacques, Bas's closest friend and Lead Enforcer, must have caught Ezra's tone because he immediately chimed in. “Your immediate supervisor is a Mr. Dabnus Rudger and his assistant is Coleen Ramsey in the Research and Development Department. Your workstation is located directly outside of the research lab and you will be responsible for running security checks on all incoming and outgoing files, data and text. This will put all the information coming into and going out of Comastaz in your hands. While you're scanning for security you'll also be scanning for any mention of the shifters, or ‘cat people,' as the humans like to call us.”

Ezra nodded. “The perimeter is protected by a seven-foot-high fence, barbed wire around the edges. The gates are locked, opening only to an employee code. No armed guard, just computer surveillance. Once inside, the building is four stories high, the basement used for storage purposes. I know this from blueprints only. R and D is on the third floor, west end of the building. At least fifteen hundred employees working morning and twilight shifts go in and out of the building each day. At night there's a secondary security system. There are seals along the windows and probably something else but I couldn't really tell from the outside.”

Bas rubbed a finger along his chin. “How do you know all this?”

“I've been staking them out for the last few weeks while we waited until my new identity could be completed,” he announced.

“How did you get inside the gates?”

Ezra paused then admitted, “She had a pretty smile and she thought I had beautiful eyes.”

Bas released a loud burst of laughter while Jacques tried unsuccessfully to hold his in. “You slept with one of the employees already to get inside? That's impatience, man. You know sometimes this stuff takes X a while, but making sure that everything is airtight is much more important than rushing and blowing the whole operation.”

Ezra shook his head. “I didn't sleep with her. She came on to me. We kissed, did a little touching. Then I intentionally got lost, wandered off, and that's when I assessed the setup.”

“Great plan,” Jacques continued with a slight chuckle.

“Get in and get out,” Bas said with a lift of a brow.

“Very funny,” Ezra replied, standing from his seat and giving both shifters a momentary glare. “I'll look for any mention of shifters or unexplained beings.”

“Not UFOs,” Jacques added.

Ezra sighed. The two of them were enjoying this situation, even though it was a very serious position the shifters found themselves in and could be dangerous for all of them.

“I know not UFOs,” he replied. “Look, I've got this,” he assured them. “I'm taking the red truck again so as not to have the other vehicles in daily circulation. I'll communicate with X via com link.”

Bas nodded. “It's a good thing he made the new ones so small they won't even be picked up by metal detectors.”

Ezra agreed. “I'll go in, get the information we need, and get out. Simple. I should be back home on the East Coast in a week tops,” he told them before exiting the room.

“You think it'll only take him a week?” Bas asked Jacques.

“To get the information he needs or to scratch that itch that's surrounding him like body armor?”

With a shrug Bas replied, “Both.”

“Hell no,” was Jacques's quick reply. “And that's what really concerns me.”

 

Chapter 4

Her heart raced, warm tingles traveling down her spine as she stood at the front entrance of the resort, staring out at the picturesque scenery.

Jewel ignored the feelings; refusing to acknowledge them would surely make them less relevant. Her gaze remained focused on the sweeping red butte rock formations that reached upward to the soft blue sky and even deeper into the body of the earth surrounding the resort. It was a breathtaking scene, one she witnessed every day she awakened at Perryville. Every day she awakened alive and safe.

If today seemed a little different, she could accept that. Monotony could lead to being complacent and that could lead to danger. So she would embrace the changes, she would start the day with something other than complete solace and she would make the best of every moment she had.

There was no other choice.

Around her she could hear the morning hustle and bustle. Employees beginning their shift, relieving the overnight staff. Bellhops moving to assist in guest checkout. Black shuttle buses with the Perryville insignia in sprawling gold script parked at the curb ready to transport those guests to the airport and to bring more into the resort. This was a finely oiled machine, the business of Perryville, and run by an efficient and conscientious man, who Jewel believed saw more than he acknowledged.

With a sigh she once again pushed herself to focus, to embrace the inconsistencies and take the next step forward. Wasn't that what she'd been doing for the past three years? Wasn't that how she'd planned to live the rest of her life?

“Please tell me who has put that pensive look on your face so early this morning. I'll gladly kick his ass right out of your life.”

She jumped at the sound of his voice, couldn't help it. Although a part of her traitorous body knew he was near, she'd wanted desperately for it not to be true. And then he was speaking and her already jumbled nerves went haywire. Annoyed after her embarrassing gasp, Jewel turned to at least greet him like a normal human being, but he was standing too close. When she turned, she stumbled and his strong arms immediately came around her shoulders to steady her.

He smelled so damned good. Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! She wished for a sinus attack right at this moment so her nose would be stopped up and the rich, musky, earthy scent of him would be halted from entering her system, from moving like fine wine throughout her entire body in the span of only a few seconds.

“Mornin'.” He smiled, his deep voice wrapping around her in a big seductive cocoon.

She immediately squirmed, trying to break free of the obvious and not-so-obvious hold he had on her.

“Good morning,” she spoke, remembering her manners at least. “I should be getting to the office.”

“No need to hurry,” he told her, not letting her out of his loose grasp. “Jacques isn't in the office yet. I just left him in the restaurant having coffee and those sissy-ass scones he likes.”

Jewel shook her head, felt the cool metal of the silver hoops she wore in her ears swiping against her cheeks. “I should still go,” she told him.

His arms tightened, halting her movement and subsequently pulling her so close against him that she had no choice but to crane her neck to look up into his face.

“You should stay,” he whispered. “Just take a moment to catch your breath and stay. I promise I won't bite.”

It wasn't him biting that concerned her. It was him touching, invading her space, assaulting her senses with his intense glare, arousing her mercilessly with that deep bedroom voice. Point-blank, he—in his six-foot-plus, gorgeous hot-chocolate body—was what concerned the hell out of her.

Still, Jewel managed to find her focus, bringing her mind back to the calming center she liked to work from. She inhaled slowly, exhaled, and looked him directly in the eye—stormy sea-green eyes that melted something deep inside her.

“I need to maintain a professional image while at work, Mr. Preston. That means standing in the middle of the front lobby in your arms is most definitely not a good look.”

His smile widened to show perfectly straight, white teeth. The neatly trimmed beard and mustache added a shadow of dangerousness to his chiseled features.

“I think you look damned good in my arms.”

She nodded, allowing herself a small smile at his arrogance and persistence. Then she pushed away from him. This time he released her, but Jewel knew if he wanted her to remain in his arms she most definitely would have. Strength and power practically oozed from his pores without any effort on his part.

“Have a good day, Mr. Preston.”

“I'll have a wonderful day if I can hear you say my name,” he told her, letting his hands slip into the pockets of his dress pants.

His legs were partially spread, so that he looked casual and intimidating at the same time. From his left ear the sun caught his diamond stud and sparkled on cue as if he were in a jewelry commercial.

“I've already said your name,” she told him, refusing to say it again.

“Say it again,” he instructed her, this time his voice going lower, his eyes just a shade darker.

Jewel shook her head, already feeling the effects of that look, and that tone. She was breathless and refused to speak for fear of him noticing that very fact.

He took a step toward her then but didn't take his hands out of his pockets, didn't even touch her, simply stood within a breath's span of her and whispered once more, “Say. My. Name.”

She blinked, swallowed, wanted to run like the devil himself was chasing her. But she did not. She stood tall, squaring her shoulders and giving him a look that said, “You don't scare me,” even though he was doing precisely that. “Mr. Preston.”

He shook his head. “I want to hear you say my first name. I want to watch your lips as it rolls off your tongue, watch your eyes as you acknowledge who I am.”

“Well,” she said in a huff, “
Ezra,
you can just watch me walk away.”

And with every ounce of dignity Jewel had left in her body that all but demanded she turn around and jump into that fine-ass man's arms, she walked through the lobby, leaving him standing there alone.

*   *   *

The sway of her perfectly round ass wrapped in the soft material of that hot-pink dress, replayed in Ezra's mind the entire ride to Comastaz Labs. His dick was hard and ready to sink into what he knew would be Jewel's hot, wet pussy at a moment's notice.

As he'd walked down the hall after leaving Bas's office, his senses had begun to go into overdrive. Just as they had yesterday and the first time he'd seen her. If he were absolutely honest with himself, Ezra would admit his already acute senses had kicked into extrasensory overdrive the second he'd landed in Sedona. It was as if there was something here, thousands of miles from where he called home, waiting for him.

She'd been standing at the window in the main lobby. Even with the risk of an audience, the need to be close to her, to touch her, scent her once more, had been too great to ignore. She felt perfect in his arms, the top of her head resting just beneath his chin, her curvy body fitting seamlessly against his own broad frame. Inside his cat had purred and Ezra had sighed. He had to have her. And then he had to walk away. Anything more was not an option.

The spitfire attitude, the bold stance she'd taken against him, all added to the allure. The undeniable stench of fear, etched with worry, was the problem. Instinctively, he wanted to know what was scaring her and how he could put a stop to it. To do that, he knew he'd have to get even closer to Jewel Jenner, an objective he didn't mind one bit.

Pulling up to the gate at Comastaz Laboratories once again, Ezra focused on the job at hand. He wasn't here to flirt this time, wasn't here to scope out the layout of the building—he'd pored over those blueprints until late last night. This morning his sole objective was to get inside their computers and start the search. The mysterious e-mails had stopped. Nick had been monitoring each of his in-boxes for contact from the one that had been so helpful in providing the shifters information. X was still trying to trace those IP addresses, even though they'd all pretty much given up hope of finding where the messages had originated from. So it was now up to Ezra to find out what the hell was going on in this lab and if need be how the shifters would put a stop to it.

He gave the fake name that he'd been set up with, Smith Johnson, and was allowed entrance and then directed to the staff parking lot around the back of the building. Once at the employee entrance door the sound of locks clicking signaled him to open the tinted glass access and enter the building. Ezra knew this hallway led from one end of the building to the other. He knew that there were approximately five break-offs that would carry him to different locations on this floor. Two emergency-exit doors, one supply closest, two restrooms, and one restricted-access room also occupied the space. He could have easily walked to the bank of elevators that were located ten feet down, a left turn, and then a right. Instead, he stood still, waiting for the human resources representative to meet him, just as Jacques instructed she would.

“Good morning, Mr. Johnson,” the light and cheerful voice greeted him about ten minutes after he'd entered the building. “My name is Sara Pennington. First, I would like to welcome you to Comastaz Labs.”

Ezra shook her extended hand as he mirrored the smile on her marginally distorted face. She was a well-built woman in her midfifties, he guessed, with stern features that didn't exactly fit the happy-all-the-time voice she possessed. Her dark brown hair was cut evenly to ear length around her face, with short, wispy bangs in front. Unnaturally high cheekbones were stroked with too much makeup, giving her a bruised look instead of the desired highlights he suspected she'd been going for. The same was true for eyes that appeared just a bit pinched at the ends, mascara in globs on thin eyelashes, and lips too plump to be natural. His summarization—plastic surgery addict.