Scorpio Sons 4: Chase: (SF/Shifter Romance) (3 page)

Present Day, Silicon Valley, SAN FRANCISCO

"It's probably nothing," Caleb was saying calmly to an anxious Alyssa, as Chase strode into the IT suite to see what was causing all the fuss.

Alyssa was prowling the length of the darkened room, lit only by computer monitors, as if she was about to turn cat. As Colton was on a mission right now, this was an unusual occurrence. Alyssa was usually a sweetly calm woman who only lost control of her cat when her mate was around. Colt, on the other hand, was one of the more moody and volatile members of his team, who'd become even more so since finding his mate.

But then, all three of the Sons who’d found their mates in the last few months were more volatile than they had been in the past, even the mild-mannered, stray-cat adopting Cooper. Sometimes he wondered if introducing Mates into the mix had been a wise idea. Not that he could have stopped it, even if he'd wanted to.

It seemed that every time Chase turned around lately yet another spot fire needed to be put out. Yes, they were potentially closer than ever to bringing down the Guild, but the recent change of tactics was adding stress he didn't need.

Although he'd like to see himself as being politically minded, as his role required, he knew he was more interested in taking physical action. They all were. Or at least that appeared to be the case with most of the forty-two Scorpio Sons who’d been found so far.

Maybe there were others yet unfound who actually liked playing politics. Like Cameron Haversham Smythe seemed to. But then, he'd been even better trained for the job than Chase. Cameron probably chaffed at playing power-games just as much as the rest of them, but hid it better.

"Caleb, sometimes you are so counter-intuitive. That's the term, isn't it? The opposite of intuitive? Can't you read between the lines?" Alyssa exclaimed.

"What's there to read? Every celebrity has crazy fans, some of them with paranoid delusions. You've already had a few your social media secretary has sent on to me; I’ve just never mentioned them before. Wish I hadn't mentioned this one. Colt is going to string me up by my headphones for upsetting you."

"Grrh! It doesn't matter that you upset me. Don't you understand? This is one of ours.
She's
one of ours. How else do you think she could identify Akabar and Rothmen for what they are? I should have known. But back then I didn't recognise the connection."

"What's going on?" Chase asked mildly, attempting to defuse the rapidly escalating situation.

"Alyssa just has a stalker with paranoid delusions, sure that every rich guy she associates with is a monster," Caleb answered with a frustrated sigh, his deep South Carolina accent never more evident. "I'm tryin' to tell her that warnin’s like this are everyday fare for celebs."

"Read the letter, Chase," ordered the little singer, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin in challenge. She was like a pissed-off kitten. But as kittens had sharp claws, he decided to mind his manners.

Chase strode over to the monitor Caleb had in front of him and began reading the scanned letter on the screen. The handwriting was neat and feminine, not what he expected from a crazed fan. Then he focused on the words.

"Dear Alyssa,

I hope you don't mind me calling you Alyssa, as we have never formally met. But I feel as if we do know each other. We smiled at one another often enough in the corridors of the Grand Regent, where I work. You probably don't remember me, and it doesn't matter if you do. What matters is that you believe me.

You need to be more careful of the company you keep. Both Alzhir Akabar and Karl Rothmen are monsters. I know because I have met their kind before. I have killed their kind before.

I have no evidence; no way to prove what I say. When I saw you with Akabar I wanted to warn you then, but I had no evidence. After this recent near-miss, I knew I couldn't hold back any longer. Evidence or no evidence, I had to warn you. They are clearly targeting you, and next time you might not escape their clutches so easily.

You shouldn't trust so easily. Or, at least, you should have people around you who are less trusting, because you
must
be able to determine who to befriend and who to stay far, far away from. Your life depends on it.

Please take this seriously. I don't want anything to happen to you.

Your most caring fan,

Anna Jarvis"

"It is very vague, Alyssa," Chase started cautiously, not sure what to make of the letter. On one level, it sounded like an overly-attached fan projecting her own issues onto her idol. What person in their right mind would admit to killing someone in a letter? On another, the fact that she singled out those two men as monsters was too close to home to be ignored. And the use of the term
their kind
, seemed to indicate a familiarity with the Guild.

"If she's the one I think she is, then we need to make contact. There was a very young girl working in housekeeping at the hotel I stayed at in LA during the competition. She was shy, but she’d smile at me every time we passed in the corridors. I felt a tug back then, a sense of familiarity that I only now recognise, having met Alice and Amy. Back then, I'd never met any of my own kind before. This girl, this Anna, is one of the Mates, I'm sure of it."

"The name does lend credence to your belief." Chase looked at the name at the bottom of the page again.
Anna
. Yet another Mate with a name starting with A. Just as all the Sons he found so far had names starting with C. It was an interesting unexplained aspect of their breeding, a seemingly unplanned choice of similar names for both the males and females of their new sub-species of humanity. Of course, three Mates with names starting with A didn't prove anything, but it certainly lent credence to Alyssa’s belief.

"I’ve got a meeting scheduled with an LA businessman tomorrow," Chase said, thinking quickly. In fact, his meeting was by video conferencing and in two days' time, but he thought rescheduling and making it face-to-face could work.

He did a lot of his business by video conferencing these days, which saved time, but anything to do with the Sons he made a point of doing face-to-face. Finding Mates wasn’t as crucial to his remit as finding Sons, but for some reason this one felt important.

"I can take it at the Grand Regent and have a look at this Anna while I’m there. We Sons all seem to be able to tell Mates from ordinary women, so I can check this girl out and bring her back here,
if
she is one of ours. Then we'll have to see if whatever it is that happens between you couples, happens between her and one or more of the men. It will be an interesting experiment. So far, every female tested has already been claimed. An unclaimed female might –"

"Activation/claiming
does
alter the attraction. Connor said I got way more attractive once I was activated by Colt. Up until then I was just slightly more interesting than your average female. You might not be able to tell what she is," Alyssa said with an indignant huff.

"Well, it’s the best I can offer you. It's not like you can go running off back there. Your mate is on a mission. He'd kill me if I let you go anywhere without him."

Alyssa grimaced. "You’re being a bit extreme there, Chase. I can come and go as I like, with a bodyguard. It’s just that Colt can’t concentrate on his mission if he’s worried about me. So I choose to stay close to home, for his sake. If something happened to him because he wasn’t fully focused on his work I’d never forgive myself. So yeah, okay, I’ll agree to you going in my place. But you have to do more than just
sniff
her, Chase. You have to talk to her about what she feels about the Guild members she's identified. You have to find out more about her warnings."

Chase placed a calming hand on Alyssa's arm and felt the little frisson of electricity that always came when he touched any of the Mates. It was why he avoided physical contact with them. His attraction to these women was natural, and yet unwanted. Thankfully, it was never very strong.

But if touching another man's mate gave him this charge, what would it feel like if he found his own?

That thought was too disruptive to consider. No, he was not going to find a mate. Chase, as the leader of the Scorpio Sons and upper management of Scanlan Industries, had no time for a mate. And neither would he be responsible for anymore collateral damage caused by what he was.

But he could determine if this little cleaner from LA was one of theirs. That at least was feasible. Having more healers for his men was worth all the hassles these women always seemed to bring with them.

The next day he arrived in LA by chopper and set down on the helipad on top of the Grand Regent. Though he hated the ostentatiousness of such forms of transport, he loved the time it saved him. And when he had a million and one matters to concern himself with, shortening transit time was always a bonus.

While he took the elevator to the lobby twenty-five storeys below, Chase considered his options. It might be as simple as asking to see the girl, if she was currently on duty. His reason for doing so? Did it matter, as far as the staff were concerned? He didn't have to justify his requests. And one thing he knew about the Grand Regent was that it bent over backwards to meet the needs of men like Chase, no questions asked.

"Chase Scanlan. I have an executive suite booked," he told the receptionist, a pretty redhead with a big, Hollywood smile.

"Of course, Mr Scanlan. Your room is ready for you. Do you have luggage?" she asked politely.

"No, I’m not staying overnight. I’ll be taking a meeting in my suite and then flying out again."

"Certainly, sir. Is there anything I can do for you? Complimentary champagne, finger-food, business equipment of any kind?"

"No, thank you. I’ve already ordered lunch brought up from your restaurant. But I do need to see one of your staff while I'm here. A young woman from housekeeping called Anna Jarvis. Can you see if she's currently in the hotel?"

The surprised expression was quickly replaced by a professionally neutral one. The redhead smiled, nodded and consulted her computer.

"Yes, that staff member is working on the third floor at the moment. Should I have her sent up to your suite? How long will I tell her supervisor she’ll be away from her post?" The redhead's eyes took on a speculative gleam. So she thought he was having an assignation, did she? Well, she could think what she liked.

"Yes, have her sent up immediately. I'm not sure how long I’ll need her."

The redhead almost sniffed, but refrained with difficulty. "Certainly, sir. I will let her supervisor know immediately, and the girl will be sent up to your room. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Chase felt like chuckling. He had definitely ruffled this young woman's feathers. Was it because he was having an assignation with a member of the hotel staff, or because he was having an assignation with a member of the staff who wasn't
her
?

"No, that will be all, thank you." He took the keycard she offered him, enclosed as it was in a gilded pocket-sized folder. Nothing was too good for elite like him, he reflected with amusement.

As he prowled back to the elevator and selected his floor, he considered his timing. He had half an hour to check out this possible Mate before his scheduled meeting. Lance Courtney had been only too happy to meet with him earlier than planned and here at the Grand Regent. Promising the man lunch had only sweetened the pot.

Chase had barely closed the door on his suite and gone to the window to look out at the panoramic view beyond the floor-to-ceiling plate-glass windows, when a soft knock drew his attention.

Surprised at how swiftly his request had been met, he crossed the room at cat speed and opened the door. The girl standing in front of him, dressed in the hotel's light blue uniform, knocked the air right out of his lungs.

And it wasn't because she was beautiful. Because she wasn’t. Her hair might be a pretty shade of white-blonde, pulled back into a neat ponytail at the back of her head – naturally blonde, if he didn't miss his guess. Her eyes, such a pale shade of blue they were almost grey, might have been pleasantly highlighted by only the blue of her uniform, rather than by make-up. What he could see of her figure beneath the demure uniform might be slim and athletic; but no outrageous curves or fashionable thinness distinguished her figure from that of thousands of other girls across the country. Her skin might not have the default tan of LA he despised so much, either. But for all that, she wasn’t beautiful.

So, why wasn't she? Her skin was almost too pale; her mouth was too wide and her nose a little too small for her face; her chin had an odd dimple in it that wasn't quite symmetrically placed. Her silver-blue eyes dwarfed her other features and were too deeply set beneath too pale eyebrows. She was
too
different to be beautiful, and that made her striking.

How tall was she? Maybe five foot four. Neither tall nor short for a woman. But short enough that he seemed to have to look a long way down to see her. And young, too young for any of his brothers.

Unable to find words, he ushered her in with his hand, feeling like a sleazy businessman preparing to pounce on an innocent, under-age girl. As she passed him, Chase breathed her in, hoping against hope that he was wrong.