Shifter's Claim (The Shadow Shifters) (3 page)

She didn’t frown, but arched an elegant eyebrow and nodded. Right now she was probably thinking that she had an inside lead, that since she believed Bas worked for Rome, she could get him to provide the real information she wanted from Rome. That was not remotely possible, but Bas was enjoying the little light of excitement in her eyes at the possibility.

“I don’t usually bow to threats,” she replied after a short pause, and then immediately faltered.

It was quick, a blink of her eyes, a look toward the window, then back at him with her composure firmly in place. Fear, with its tangy citrus-like scent, filtered between them, and Bas was immediately concerned. Had someone else threatened her? Shadows possessed a very protective nature where females were concerned. That’s why the feel of his cat pressing firmly against his human form was no surprise. It was rearing up, ready to defend if need be.

“At any rate,” she began again with a sigh. “There’ve been some incidents in the past few months, the gruesome murder of Senator Baines and his daughter, a huge bank heist by supposed masked robbers, and the grisly and still unexplained death of a stripper at Athena’s. All crimes unsolved.”

Bas nodded. “It’s a shame how much violence is still present in the world.”

She tilted her head then, staring at him as if that remark had changed something in her mind. Then, with an almost imperceptible shrug, she continued. “There have been rumors, maybe you’ve heard them.”

“I don’t usually listen to rumors. They’re rarely true,” he told her.

She sat forward then, pushing her wineglass to the side and folding her arms on the table. Her voice lowered as she spoke. “Some say the bank robbers stood and walked tall like men, but had the looks of big cats. Eyes, sharp teeth, everything except walking on all fours and wagging a long tail.”

Through their monthly and sometimes weekly conference calls, Bas had learned of the incidents that had taken place in D.C. even though he lived across the country. Each incident that she’d mentioned had been a concern for the Assembly as it threatened the exposure they wanted so desperately to avoid. Still, he kept his composure. “Some say I have cat’s eyes,” he replied lightly. “Are you accusing me of being a cat?”

She contemplated his words before replying. “That’s not what I said. The way the senator and his daughter’s bodies were mangled definitely leads toward a nonhuman killing except the bodies weren’t found in an alley or in a wooded area, for that matter. And that stripper, she was just about ripped to pieces.”

Bas didn’t like to raise his voice or show much emotion. It gave the other person the upper hand, he thought. If someone knew what button to push to get a reaction out of him, they’d likely push it all the time. That act would surely get someone killed, there was no doubt. His cat teetered on the brink of rage and painful hunger.

“I thought the stripper was filled with some type of drug that may have actually been the cause of death.”

She was instantly shaking her head. “There’s no drug that will shred human skin like that. Something sharp and something vicious had to be involved. I saw the body myself! It was horrible,” she exclaimed.

He wondered how she’d managed to see that body but remembered she was a reporter. The lengths to which the press went to get a story these days had long since ceased to amaze Bas—disgusted him, yes, but not amaze.

“And just how does this relate to Roman Reynolds and his political views?” Because that was the real question Bas wanted an answer to. The rest he would leave for her inquisitive mind to try and figure out, hoping that she never really would.

That’s when she did it again, faltered. He had a feeling she didn’t do that often, or at least tried not to. She didn’t seem to like it judging from how fast she tried to rebound. This time it was with a slight shake of her head as if she were trying to clear it of some thought she’d rather not have. Bas was beyond intrigued now, he’d almost venture to say he was vested somehow in this female he’d just met and was insanely attracted to.

She cleared her throat before looking at him again. This time there was something missing in her eyes. The glow of excitement that had been there when she’d spoken of those murders, the tinge of outrage in her tone as she’d talked about the stripper, was now replaced by a sullen look that spoke of uncertainty.

“Some say Rome’s friend Xavier is the one who killed the stripper. The FBI even investigated him for it. They didn’t prove it but Xavier left the FBI. They say he was seen with one of the cat people in the alley behind Athena’s one night,” she told him in an even more hushed tone. Then she squared her shoulders and said with a little more clarity, a bit more force, “I want to know what Reynolds knows about the murders and the cat people.”

And there it was, the dreaded ax that Bas had been praying wouldn’t drop. The scenario the Elders of their tribe back in the Gungi Rainforest hundreds and hundreds of years ago had feared. It was one of the reasons some of the Elders refused to leave their jungle in Brazil—exposure.

“You should find another story to pursue. This one sounds preposterous and is most definitely a waste of your time. Does your editor know you’re working on this? Why hasn’t he tried to show you how far-fetched it is?” Why hasn’t someone tried to stop her before she gets herself killed? His teeth clenched at that unspoken question.

“He doesn’t know,” she replied almost instantly. “I mean, I’ll tell him when I have more to go on.”

Bas didn’t like that response any more than he liked the quick flash of lust that speared through him as his gaze dropped to the smooth mocha-toned skin between the mounds of her breasts.

“Come, I’ll take you home,” he said, standing. Reaching into his pocket he removed some bills from their gold clip and dropped them onto the table. He needed to get away from her before he did something he somehow knew he would regret.

She looked startled, then deflated. “I don’t need you to take me home. I can get there on my own.”

“I’m sure you can,” Bas said, once again taking her elbow as she stood and moved from the booth. It was a mistake to touch her, the searing heat at the connection a stark reminder of that fact. Bas frowned. “But I’ll take you anyway.”

He liked touching her, a lot. She wasn’t pulling away physically but was holding herself just out of reach mentally. He didn’t know why that appealed to him.

Once outside she turned to him, a slight temper surfacing. “Look, thank you for the drink and thank you for not doing whatever it is you do with people who try to contact Mr. Reynolds that maybe shouldn’t. I even appreciate you listening to my ramblings about work. But really, I don’t know you well enough to let you take me home and as I stated before I’m not interested in having sex with you.”

After a nod of his head to the valet who had immediately come into view as they’d exited the hotel, Bas returned his attention to Priya.

“First, you know my name is Sebastian Perry and that if I really meant you some harm I would have done it while I had you in that hallway alone. Second, by your synopsis of the current violence going on in this city, you know it’s a lot safer to have me escort you home at this time of night than it is for you to hop in a cab and get there on your own. And third, you didn’t say you weren’t interested in having sex with me, you said you didn’t sleep with men for a story.”

As she opened her mouth to reply an SUV pulled up to the curb. Bas opened the back door for her and waited for her to get in.

“You think you’re so smooth,” she quipped, coming closer to the door.

“What do you think?” he asked, loving the way that red dress hugged every one of her delectable curves, the material blowing alluringly against her bare legs in the slight night breeze.

She stood right in front of him then, her high heels almost bringing them eye to eye. “I think you may have a slightly overinflated ego,” she stated decisively. Then added, “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

Bas smiled and watched as she climbed into the car. Her ass was firm and plump and he remembered with startling clarity how it felt pressed against his still burgeoning arousal. “No, that’s not a bad thing at all,” he mumbled as he climbed into the backseat after her. “Not bad at all.”

Forty-five minutes later, after Bas had warned Priya one more time to drop the foolish story of cat men, he was back in his suite. Rome, who was formerly the East Coast Faction Leader but had recently been elected the Assembly Leader, had rented him a suite. Actually he’d rented each of the three Faction Leaders a suite in the hotel where the fund-raiser for President Reed was being held. As a whole, the Assembly had agreed that this human was the best presidential candidate. Not only had he made terrific strides in his first four years in office, but they were confident that the next four years would prove even more effective. President Reed’s grandmother was from Colombia, a fact that Rome also thought could work to their advantage should they ever need backup in the human world. Bas wasn’t 100 percent certain the president would take their side based on that connection alone, but he stood behind the Assembly Leader wholeheartedly.

He’d known Rome much too long not to stand behind him. At some point in their lives all of the Faction Leaders had shown their loyalty to one another as well as to the Assembly. They weren’t about to stop now.

That’s why Bas now stood at the window looking out onto the D.C. night, holding his cell phone to his ear. A second later there was an answer on the other end and Bas spoke a simple phrase. “We may have a problem.”

Chapter 3

Pain seared through her so intensely Priya was jerked from her sleep, sitting up straight in the center of her bed. Her breathing was erratic, sweat drenching her forehead as she lifted a hand to her chest and slid the other between her legs.

All night long, she thought with a sigh, closing her eyes and remembering the all-too-vivid dreams she’d endured. He’d touched her, kissed her, taken her like no man had ever taken her before. And he’d done it with that sexy-as-hell grin on his face as if he’d known just how good he was giving it to her. Priya wanted to scream. Not because—opening one eye to peek at the clock on her nightstand—it was zero-dark-thirty, but because with all he’d done to her in her dreams she still felt like she was about to explode with pent-up desire.

Frustrated and horny as hell, she tossed off the sheets, mumbling as she jerked open the top drawer of her nightstand and pulled out an old friend. Celibacy had begun immediately after the breakup with Jonathan who had been a really nice financing director at the used-car dealership where she’d gone to purchase a newer vehicle. They’d dated for approximately three weeks while he’d worked on the financing for her car. Then one night he’d shown up at her apartment with roses and a bottle of wine. He ordered Chinese food and they sat in candlelight—even though the only two candles she had in the house were mismatched, one from Christmas and the other something fragrant from the grocery store. It had been sweet and they’d topped off the night with sex—first with Jonathan on top, then with her bringing it home. “It” being the climax that had almost completely knocked Jonathan out, but had left Priya feeling a little bereft.

The next morning Jonathan awoke her with the bad news—she hadn’t been approved for the car, and oh, he wasn’t interested in seeing her again. Jerk!

Now, just about a year later she could go almost a few weeks without thinking about the sex she refused to allow herself, but only a couple of hours cursing the male population in general. Last night, after being with “him,” she felt like all the cards she’d stacked so neatly in the lovely card castle of her dreams had come crashing down.

With a huff she lay back against her pillows, the small vibrator in one hand while her other arm lifted to fall over her eyes. She hadn’t resorted to this in months, hadn’t been so desperate for any type of relief that she thought she might actually scream in frustration in far too long. Normally when the urge struck she’d go to the gym, which didn’t really work out for her since that type of physical exertion had never really been her forte. It was after the gym when she went to the ice cream shop on the corner—whose great idea had it been to put an ice cream shop about ten feet from the gym’s entrance anyway?—that she really found her bliss.

This morning she didn’t think cake batter ice cream mixed with waffle cone pieces was going to do the trick.

Pulling up her nightgown she cursed once more, all but saying his name but refusing as if it were some type of omen. Her finger pushed the ON button so hard she thought she may have broken the handheld device, but the low hum assured her it was ready and able to perform the task. She lifted her legs so that her knees were touching, then let them fall, not so gracefully, to the sides, bringing the heels of her feet together. Pushing her panties to the side because she was too irritated to simply pull them off, she placed the silver-topped apparatus to the throbbing hood between her legs and made a low humming sound that almost matched the toy’s as it made the connection. No lubricant had been needed since her dreams had excited her sufficiently.

Biting her lower lip as she moved the bullet up and down and around the tightened bud of her clit, she closed her eyes and saw him once more.

Sebastian Perry.

His name echoed in her head even though she’d willed it not to. His eyes hungrily devoured her as they’d done something so cordial as share a drink in a bar. In the dream he’d slid around to the side of the booth where she’d been sitting. His hand had touched her thigh, sending spikes of heat to every pleasure point throughout her body simultaneously. She’d tried to be calm, taking another sip of her wine, but that had been futile. Clever fingers worked her dress up slowly, slipped between her thighs to find her waiting for him.

“Hot,” he’d whispered against her ear as he slipped the first finger past her swollen lips. “So hot for me,” he’d continued, his tongue licking over her lobe.

She’d kept her eyes open, acutely aware of the fact that they were in a public place where anyone could walk past and see them. They’d know instantly what was going on as the pad of his thumb pressed against her clit and she’d hissed, bucked, and closed her eyes to the pleasure.