Clarity (The Admiral's Elite Book 3) (31 page)

“Anytime,” Kenneth giggled.

I hate that fucking crazy laugh of his.

“Help her, you fucker,” Ryan growled, threat of bodily harm more than gently implied.

“She’s doing fine.”

Gabrielle took two vicious body shots, then got pissed. People were coming closer but she needed more. “Keep them out of the alley.” Words sounded strange pushed through a throat not meant for human vocalization. Bones cracked, ligaments stretched, moan turned to roar and a golden wolf’s head sat atop human shoulders. With the half change came yet more muscle and one shove sent him flying. A snarl and she was up.

Upon landing, the shooter performed his own morph and the alley held two half turned wolves squaring off.

Snarling, he feinted left, testing. She snapped and dodged. Again he tested her defenses, again she dodged. The third time she followed the trajectory of her dodge and swung in. Crunching bones, his clavicle shattered and right arm went limp. With a whimper he turned and tried to run farther down the alley. Before he made three strides Gabrielle was on him. Bite, tear, shove. A rush of energy and he went back to human. Blood flowed, arm hung, his face contorted in pain. It would be another shift before he could heal. Gabrielle shifted back. She had her leverage. As long as she kept him from healing she had a way to make him hurt.

“Who are you? Who do you work for?”

“I can’t,” he panted, white with pain.

The stakes were too high, she was too close for mercy. She struck.

He howled, nearly passing out.

“Don’t even think about it.” Her hand pressed down on bruised ribs. “It’s not going to stop until you give me a name.”

“The Unitarian,” he sobbed.

“I know what he goes by on the street, I want his real name.”

Blonde hair shook violently.

She pressed again, this time hearing bones displace.

An unholy scream erupted, frothy blood wetting his lips. “Please,” he pleaded.

“Gabs,” Ryan called softly. “Honey, enough.”

“No.” Between the adrenaline and frustration she was close to tears. “Give me a name or I keep pushing and you lose a lung,” she snarled, pressing as she did.

His scream echoed hers. “Stop! Please,” his voice faded. Pain had him close to out.

Revolted at how far she’d come from being an angel of mercy, she backed off. “Talk.”

“The Unitarian, he almost never goes by anything else but I’ve heard him called Almohad.”

“Almohad what?”

“That’s it, just Almohad. I swear.”

“Where does he live? Where can I find him?”

“I don’t know, he lives here though. When he needs me he calls, tells me where to meet him.”

“Where does he go? He isn’t a ghost, he has to eat. He’s a man, he has needs.”

A shadow passed over the man’s pale face.

“Bingo.” Kenneth leaned over her shoulder. “He smells good.”

“What? Women? Where does he go? Kenneth, you’re supposed to be watching.”

“I’m not supposed to go but sometimes, sometimes he goes too far and I have to help clean up.”

“Where does he go?” Gabrielle felt her control slipping. Too much strain, too close to animal for too long. If she didn’t either shift soon or get the hell away from him she was going to tear him apart. An omega such as this one didn’t deserve that, not even Almohad’s omega. He was submissive, he had no choice if he was to survive in a pack.

Still, logic only took her so far.

Grabbing hold of his jacket collar she shook him. “Where?”

Kenneth’s cold, unmoving chest pressed against the back of her shoulder.

“Not far from here. Follow the water to the Mall, it’s by Jefferson.”

“The monument?”

He nodded.

“Good.”

Standing up, she had to push to get Kenneth off her. As soon as she was clear he was on the wounded man. The sounds of tearing and screaming would haunt her.

“Be quick, we’re going to have witnesses any second.” Gabrielle moved to the mouth of the alley, the people here didn’t want trouble. They’d shoved off as things escalated. That bought them another minute or two but eventually uniforms would show up.

Wet smacking sounds and all was quiet.

“Gabs,” Ryan’s voice was strained. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” By the roughness of his tone she could tell he didn’t believe her, wouldn’t until he saw her for himself. “I’m checking police and hospital records for incidents involving prostitutes. We’ve got the usual reports of gunshot wounds, knives, bruises and broken bones, but a handful of, other stuff.”

“What do you mean ‘other stuff?’”

“He has a particular flavor, young men. Broken arms, bruised ribs, nothing unusual except one thing.”

Her feet stopped moving, maybe her heart stopped beating. “He claws them up. Backs, chests, depends I’m guessing what else he’s doing to them at the time, but he carves them up.” Ryan stopped, wanted to say something else she could tell.

“What is it? What else?” Her chest hurt. This animal needed to be stopped before he hurt anyone else.

Vaguely she became aware Kenneth approached from behind her, wiping his face and hands on a piece of cloth.

“Where did you get that?”

Smiling, he inclined his head back to the shirtless body.

Gabrielle felt sick. “What else, Ryan? Please.”

“One was admitted to St Elizabeth’s an hour ago.”

“I’m on my way.” She broke into a jog.

“Don’t bother, he didn’t make it. Looks like he got too aggressive, disembowled him.”

She felt the ground go out from under her feet, staggering to a standstill. “We don’t know when he’s going to get the urge again. And Kenneth just ate our in.”

“Did he eat the phone?”

“No.”

“Bring it to me.”

“Okay.” Exhaustion that went far deeper than a need for sleep made pushing words out a struggle.

“Bring it to me,” he repeated softly. “I’ll find him.”

Kenneth made a gagging noise.

She was too tired to kill him so she went back to the corpse, wordlessly fishing his wallet and phone from blood and urine soaked pants.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter 27

Becca leaned against the cool limestone of the Conservatory in the shadow of the Capitol steps, grateful for the break to catch her breath. Shins and quads threatened to seize and buckle; heels are for pretty, not foot chases. They knew she pursued them, had kept just out of reach but a few blocks ago they’d begun circling back to the heart of the city. Counterintuitive if they meant to flee. No, Reyes was either luring her or waiting for someone.

Reyes hovered over Reese who, beyond winded, collapsed on a wooden bench on the protected front lawn facing the Capitol.

“Anything?” she whispered.

“No, he’s still offline and there’s too much interference to isolate his signal,” Kyle replied. “Police channels are one fire, they’ve locked down a half mile perimeter searching for their suspect. They’re saying lone gunman.”

“Where is he?” she muttered more to herself than expecting an answer.

“One thing I’ve learned since I’ve met your boyfriend, Becs, He’s always got a plan. Don’t worry about him.”

One thing I’ve learned about my boyfriend is he isn’t always in charge of his plan
.
For all she knew Black had him off chasing down another lead. Not that she needed him at the moment, but it would be nice to know he was okay and not sitting in a cell somewhere. He was right, of course, he wouldn’t have to sit there long, but it still wasn’t a great idea to put him in a potentially lethal situation. When someone shot him and he didn’t die it might lead to some awkward questions. Or what if they tried to interrogate him? Waterboarding is less effective when the detainee doesn’t require breath.

Sirens blared, two squad cars blew past on their way to the party. Reese’s head popped up, Reyes calmly watched.

“He’s so calm,” she muttered. Shadow hid most of the colonel, but something about his posture bothered her. It was just that little bit...off.

“No way.”

“What?”

“I have to get closer.”

“Is that smart?” Kyle sounded worried. “He’s obviously waiting for someone. I don’t want you too close when reinforcements get there.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll never see me.”

Eyes narrowing, she fixed on Reyes and jumped.

***

Hammering heart beats, almost into the danger zone made it hard to hear. “Why aren’t we,” pant, “going to the police?” Reese wheezed, eyes lifted up to Reyes. Sour sweat overwhelmed the cedar and soap of aftershave and deodorant.

The colonel was looking down, Becca noted Reece’s ruined tux. Sweat turned white translucent and she could see surprisingly thick brown chest hair swirled and matted against a soft breast.

“Like I told you, they can’t be trusted. We wait for my people, they’ll take you to safety.” Reyes spoke smoothly, words unbroken by his efforts to catch his breath.

Becca focused on the body playing host. Heartbeat slightly elevated, no more than if he’d just been on a brisk walk. Reyes’ respiration remained normal, no scent of sweat wafted from under his uniform. As a matter of fact, his skin didn’t feel all that warm from exerting himself.

He’s not human.

What was he?

Becca wished Michael would show up so she could ask him. Maybe he picked it up at the embassy, he hadn’t been all that close for that long though. Would he have been able to pick up his scent or whatever with all the interference of people moving around, cologne, food? So many other smells. Where was he?

“I don’t get it, John.” Reese undid his tie and top button. “You said they were a rogue unit. Who are these people?”

“They are, Chris. But their influence goes deep. The guy at the top scares the hell out of most of Washington.”

Reese frowned. “How can he have that much pull? We all have skeletons but enough to let this guy just do whatever the hell he wants? There’s got to be something else. Something you’re not telling me.”

Reyes was watching the senator, maybe deciding what to tell him. Something. She could see it in Reese’s expectant expression. Wouldn’t it be great to have Kenneth’s ability to read a thought. In that moment, if he could have touched the colonel, they would know who was behind all this. Here they were thinking it was Reese but now it looked like he was just a puppet. Who was really behind all of this? Someone had it out for their team; cutting their funds made things more difficult, but they’d been dealing with that for months. The bad intelligence and sniper in Afghanistan were obviously a trap they weren’t supposed to walk away from. Senator Jordan, their greatest ally in Washington, taken out and smeared so anything associated with him was now tainted. It was brilliant. Total warfare in the new regime. Why send in an army when a few key kills and the political spin cycle could be so thorough?

Another vehicle, big engine, roared up behind them. Reyes turned, Becca felt her host’s chest rumble
.
A growl?

“Here we go. Get up, Senator, this is our ride.” He watched the driver get out, a tall heavily muscled man in dark suit and tie. The driver walked around the front of the SUV coming toward them.

“What are you doing? I thought we were bringing him to the safe house?”

The driver reached behind his back. “Change of plans.”

“John, what is this?” Reese spoke beside him, voice rising. “You said he would help us.”

Reyes turned just as the faint whoosh of a suppressed round left the barrel of the driver’s gun to lodge in Reese’s chest. A second followed, making a second hole less than an inch from the first. No blood erupted, he was already gone.

The colonel’s body felt the heat from the body coming up beside him. “Was that necessary? I thought he wanted him alive. What about his plans?”

Movement. A shrug? “He’s no longer needed.”

“Why not?” Reyes turned to face his co-conspirator. “Reese had the backing, we’d given him enough ammo. He was going to have the unit shut down in no time.”

“Not enough to shut them down, he wants them gone.” A cruel smile twisted thin lips in his suntanned face. Sun lightened brown hair buzzed close caught the light from overhead halogens.