Authors: Catherine Vale
It
was Garrison’s turn to narrow his eyes. “I don’t like the flippancy in your
tone,” he said, his eyes darkening.
Raina
straightened her spine. “Yeah, well I don’t like being drugged and held against
my will, especially against radical groups who hate my kind, so you’ll have to
forgive me if I sound just a tad bit disrespectful.”
Garrison
laughed. “I like your spunk,” he said, and he did sound genuinely appreciative.
“It’s too bad that you’re a mage, or we might have been friends in another
lifetime.”
“I
doubt it.” Raina lifted her chin. “I happen to have a no-tolerance policy when
it comes to bigoted assholes like you.”
Garrison’s
face reddened, and he punched Raina square in the jaw. The powerful blow sent her
reeling back, her head cracking against the concrete wall as she collapsed
against the bed. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he
growled, looming over her, and it suddenly struck Raina how tall he was. Fear
shortened her breath, more than the pain, as he glowered down at her, his eyes
glowing orange as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “For
you to call me a bigot, when your kind so mercilessly hunts and kills mine,
tells me that you are ridiculously ignorant of your own race.” He let out a
long breath, then, his eyes returning back to normal as he looked away. “I
guess that’s why I have to forgive you, then,” he said, stepping back. “It
makes me no better than any of you if I can’t find the wisdom to show mercy
when it’s warranted.”
Oh,
why thank you,
Raina wanted to say, but she knew sarcasm would only unleash
Garrison’s fury again, so she kept her comments to herself as she struggled up
into a sitting position, rubbing her sore jaw. “So did you come to welcome me
to your humble abode?” she asked, gesturing around the cell. “Or was there
something you wanted to tell me?”
Garrison
cocked his head. “I came down to check on you, make sure the drugs hadn’t
completely screwed you up.” His lips pursed. “My men may have inadvertently
given you more than was advised.”
Well,
that explained the continued bouts of dizziness. “While I appreciate your
concern, I think I’d really benefit a lot more if you told me exactly why
you’ve decided to pluck me out of my life and place me in a concrete box.”
“Oh,
that?” Garrison shrugged. “I’m holding you for ransom, in exchange for your
father’s life.”
The
words crashed down on Raina’s shoulders like a lead anvil. “Why on earth would
you do that? My father would never give himself up for me.”
Garrison
cocked an eyebrow. “Interesting. My nose tells me that you aren’t lying… and
yet my Intel suggests you are. Which can only mean that you truly believe your
father cares so little for you.”
Raina
lifted her chin again, refusing to show Garrison just how much those words hit
the mark. “It isn’t that my father doesn’t love me so much, as it is that he
loves his career more. I can’t see him doing anything to jeopardize it. You may
as well let me go.”
Garrison
laughed. “What a piss-poor relationship you must have for you to truly believe such
hopeless words. I almost feel sorry for you.” His expression grew dark. “But
forgive me if I don’t take your words at face-value, even if you do seem to
believe them. Even if your father doesn’t turn himself in… which I assure you,
he will, the backup plan I have will be more than rewarding.”
“And
what back up plan would that be?”
“It’s
quite simple. If your father doesn’t turn himself in, I’ll simply destroy all
of his precincts, and then go find a Commander in another area who
will
give himself up to me.”
Chapter Four
Angela
admitted to herself she was a little relieved that it was going on two in the
morning when she brought Cole into the precinct with her. Few Protectors were
actually in the precinct at this time, change of shift having occurred nearly
two hours ago, and though Cole did draw a few funny looks from the uniforms at
the front desk, they wisely didn’t ask questions.
Cole
stopped behind her as they entered the bullpen, and she turned her head to look
back at him. “What?”
His
violet eyes scanned the open space filled with groups of desks and chairs,
filing cabinets, and the smell of stale coffee and cigarettes that had
permanently sunk its way into the grey walls and carpeting. His eyes lingered
on the shield with the four main races emblazoned on it, painted across the far
wall – a star, a claw, a leaf, and a drop of blood in each corner, to
represent mages, shifters, fae, and demons.
“It
just strikes me every time I walk into one of these places as how similar they
all are,” he finally said with a shrug of his broad shoulders.
Angela’s
cheeks pinkened a little as her fingers instinctively went to the shield that
hung around her neck, with it’s own coat of arms stamped on it that was
identical to the one on the wall. “Yeah, well maybe that’s just a symbol of
unity. You know, since we’re all working toward the same thing.”
Cole
snorted. “Right.” He moved past her and headed straight for her desk. Angela
didn’t have to ask how he knew which was the right way – she could tell
he was using his nose to sniff her out.
“What
the hell is that supposed to mean?” she demanded as she strode after him, not
liking that he was leading the way in her own precinct.
“It
means,” he said, his fingers trailing over the papers and knickknacks on her
desk. His fingers grazed over the dream catcher that had fallen off her desk
lamp, and he picked it up. “That I don’t judge all of you as equal just because
you all stand for the same cause. I’ve met good and corrupt people on both
sides of the line, and I’ve learned that it’s better to judge by individual
merit rather than the ideals you all hold in front of your faces like some kind
of shield.” His eyes flicked dismissively to the shield resting between her
breasts, and then back down to the dream-catcher in his hand. “Is this for when
you fall asleep at your desk or something?”
Blushing
furiously, Angela snatched the dream-catcher from Cole’s fingers and shoved it
into a drawer, refusing to confirm that was exactly what it was for. “Let’s get
to work,” she snapped, pulling out her chair. She paused for a moment as she
glanced at the crappy visitor’s chair next to her desk, then sighed and pointed
at the desk that sat catty corner to hers. “You can sit at Raina’s desk.”
“Mmm,
good idea.” He sat down in her chair and splayed his hands on the grainy wood
of her desk. “That’ll allow me to get a sense of her, which should make her
easier to find.”
Angela
snorted, then turned to her computer to log in, but she’d barely typed in her
password when Cole’s entire body began to glow softly. Curious about what
exactly he was doing – she hadn’t thought he was actually going to do
some spell-casting – she turned in her chair to watch him. His hands were
still in exactly the same position, his head tilted slightly back so that his
curls hung free of his forehead, drawing even more attention to the carved
bones of his face. There was a dent in his chin, she noticed for the first
time. Shallow enough that she hadn’t seen it in the darkness of the bar, but it
was there now, and her fingers itched to flick over the spot and see how deep
it was.
Maybe
you could try it with your tongue,
an insidious voice suggested.
You
might get more interesting results.
She blushed again and pushed
the dirty thought from her mind as she continued to look at him. Rather than
frowning in concentration, his face was completely relaxed, his pale eyebrows
arched, his thick lashes sweeping his broad cheekbones, his full mouth parted
slightly. She wondered how his lips would feel against her skin…
His
eyes popped open, and she jumped, a jolt going through her as his wildly violet
eyes connected with hers. The glow around him faded. “You’re distracting me.”
She
swallowed, her face burning even more as she wondered if he’d sensed her lust.
“Sorry,” she muttered, and then abruptly grew angry that she was being so
apologetic. “What exactly is it that you’re doing, anyway?”
“I’m
sending the essence of myself into her things in order to get the signature of
her spirit, and get a bit more of a handle on her,” Cole explained, a hint of
exasperation in his tone.
Angela
frowned. “I’ve never heard of a mage doing something like that before. Or at
least not the way you’re doing it.”
Cole
smirked a little. “That’s because most mages require spells or incantations in
order to do stuff like this, aside from basic conjuring of the elements and
things like that,” he said. “I’m a little… different.”
I’ll
say
, she said as she turned back to her computer. Plugging her headphones
in, she replayed the video footage of the interview, looking over the memory Lieutenant
Novak had pulled from Darian’s mind to see if there was anything she’d missed.
She was reviewing it for the third time when someone tapped her on the
shoulder.
Pulling
off her headphones, she twisted around in her seat to glare up at Cole. “Do you
mind?”
Unperturbed,
he gestured at the screen. “Mind if you turn the sound on so I can watch it
with you?”
Nodding,
Angela unplugged the headphones and replayed the video. Cole’s brow furrowed as
he watched it the whole way through, and then he grabbed the mouse to pause it.
“Any idea exactly when this happened?” he asked, pointing to the memory that
had been playing on the screen.
Frowning,
Angela shuffled through the notes Novak had left on her desk. “It says here
that this happened at 11:35pm.”
Cole
scowled. “That’s basically the same time that fight broke out in the bar.”
Angela’s
brows lifted. “So?”
Cursing,
he jumped out of his chair and looked around for a uniform. When one unlucky
enough to be passing through the bullpen drew close enough, he grabbed the
man’s collar and drew him close. “Where are the two drunks who were hauled in
here for brawling at the Crazy Horse earlier tonight?”
The
uniform’s eyes widened, and he glanced over at Angela. “I… I don’t know what
you’re talking about!”
“Let
him go,” Angela snapped, grabbing Cole’s arm and pulling him away from the
uniform. She sent an apologetic look to the man before he hurried off, then
turned her glare towards Cole. “If you want information like that, ask it and
I’ll retrieve it for you. But first, you have to tell me why.”
Cole
raked her with a look of disbelief. “Don’t you think it’s a little too
coincidental that those two broke out into a fight at the same time your
partner was taken?”
Dread
coiled like a leaden rope in Angela’s stomach. “Are you saying that you think
they were a decoy? To distract us while they took Raina?” When he said nothing,
she picked up the phone and dialed the front desk. “Hey. What happened to the
two perps I had brought in earlier tonight? The vampire and the werewolf who
were brawling at Crazy Horse?”
“Hang
on a sec.” She heard keys tapping at the other end, followed by the clearing of
a throat. “Looks like they were released about an hour ago. They both decided
not to press charges against each other, so we had to let them go.”
Fuck.
“Thanks,” she muttered, then let the phone drop back in the cradle.
Cole’s
gaze looked like it could cut steel as they settled on her. “We need to find
those two.
Now.
”
* * *
They
took Cole’s Camaro up to an apartment complex in Tenderloin, where the database
told her the shifter kept a small studio and received his mail.
Marcus Lopez
,
the file had read when Angela had pulled him up. He was affiliated with no pack
that anyone knew, and largely kept to himself as far as she could see, listing
himself as ‘self-employed’ on his taxes for the last ten years. According to
his tax returns he worked from home as a programmer, but if that was even
partially true she would eat her boots.
“What
kind of side business do you think Marcus is running?” she asked as Cole zipped
through non-existent traffic – not a surprise considering it was past
3:00am now. She asked the question more to try and cut the tension in the air
than because she wanted Cole’s opinion – despite the nice interior and
cushy leather seats, every muscle in her body was tense from being in such
close proximity to Cole, and she could tell he was the same by the set of his
jaw and shoulders.
“Not
totally sure.” Cole shrugged as he turned a corner, passing Market Street with
its rows of sidewalk tables. During the day they would be filled with people
playing chess; at night you could find the occasional bum sleeping in one of
the chairs, or on the tables themselves until they were chased away by some
beat cop. “But if I had to guess I’d say he’s probably into some kind of
gambling, or racketeering.”
Angela
raised a brow. “You don’t think drugs or any other kind of contraband?”
Cole
shook his head. “He didn’t strike me as the type based on what I’ve seen… but
then again I haven’t seen much.” He downshifted as they came to a stoplight.
“That’s why I like to reserve judgment.”
Angela
nodded, settling back into her seat. She’d figured the same; the shifter hadn’t
struck her as the type to deal contraband, though she wouldn’t have put it past
the vampire. They would be visiting him as well if they couldn’t get what they
needed to know out of the shifter, but the fact of the matter was a lone shifter
was an easier target than a vampire who was part of a coterie.
Cole
parked the Camaro on the street two blocks from the apartment building –
the closest spot they could find even at this hour – and they hoofed it
the rest of the way there. It was close enough to autumn that their breaths
misted lightly in front of them, but the cool felt nice on Angela’s face.
Shifters were more muscular than the average human, especially the females in
comparison, and as a result they had higher body temperatures so Angela was
rarely bothered by the cold.
Still,
a treacherous little voice whispered at the back of her mind as she glanced
at Cole out of the corner of her eye,
I bet he would be nice to snuggle up
against and keep warm with on a cold night in the dead of winter.
Snorting, she shook her head.
Yeah,
right.
He didn’t exactly look like the cuddling type, especially
considering how hard he was working on keeping the distance between them,
despite the instant attraction between them. He was probably a love-‘em-and-leave-‘em
kinda guy… which she supposed made a hell of a lot of sense since he was a
hybrid, and neither mage nor shifter would want to settle down with him.
The
thought made her unexpectedly sad, and her heart ached as she considered, for
the first time, what life must have been like for him as a boy, growing up
straddling the line between two different races that had a long history of
warfare between each other.
“What’s
that look for?” Cole frowned down at her. They had stopped outside the
building, a shabby structure that had probably once been chic in its heyday,
but now sported chips and cracks in the carved limestone as well as spots in
the ironwork curling around the balconies and edges jutting out from the
building
“Nothing.” Angela’s ears reddened
as she turned away from him, knowing that he wouldn’t take kindly to any pity
she showed him. He would probably spit in her face if she even suggested that
she felt sorry for him. “I’m just tired, that’s all. Let’s get this over with.”
She hopped up the stairs and
pulled out her uni-key – a spelled key issued to most Protectors that
granted entry to most dwellings. Because a Protector’s shield didn’t carry the
same weight as a police badge amongst human circles, it was often more trouble
than it was worth to try and gain entry by normal channels, especially if they
were trying to be stealthy by not alerting the supernatural they were trying to
see. So Protectors were given uni-keys, each with a unique signature on them
that could tell the main database back at the precinct where the key was used,
and at what time when it was scanned, so that Protectors were held accountable
and couldn’t just use them willy-nilly.
“Don’t.” Cole laid a big hand
over her wrist just as she was about to fit the key into the brass lock on the
door. Angela scowled up at him, but though his expression was stern, it was not
unkind. “Due to the nature of our mission it’s best that you don’t leave a
record. Let me.”