Devil's Eye (2 page)

The same brown arm thrust into her line of vision, a dishtowel clutched in his hand. Sophie blinked and followed the arm, past the faded blue chambray shirt, up to the very broad shoulders, and finally settled on his face. He wasn’t handsome. Not by any kind of movie-star standards. He was all sharp angles and flat planes that should have come together to look like some kind of backwoods hit man. But his eyes—golden as the whiskey on the shelf behind him—and the slight curve of a surprisingly sensual mouth softened everything enough to make him appear just this side of civilized.

“
It’s not much, but it might help a li’l bit.” His voice flowed over her like spiced honey, warm and sexy. He shook the towel in a
take it
gesture.

Sophie realized she was staring and closed her mouth, reaching for the towel. “Thanks.” Embarrassed, she dropped her eyes, using the towel to squeeze water from her hair. She had often heard people speak of the animal magnetism of the Wylk, but this was the first time she’d experienced it herself.

She sensed, rather than saw, the wolf-shifter move on down the bar, continuing to tend other customers.
Oh brilliant. This is really the perfect time for your libido to wake up and decide to tango. You’re here for Liza.

She plucked a menu out from between the napkin holder and a ketchup bottle and spun around on the stool to survey the bar’s patrons, still trying to find her sister. Instinctively she started categorizing people, pausing on each of the Mirus to identify their race. Felis. Witch. A couple of vampires. Was that a selkie? Damn, he was way far south. They tended to prefer colder climates.

The band had moved on to something more upbeat. Sophie observed, assessed, and paused when she saw a small plastic packet of bright yellow powder and a wad of cash changing hands.

Oh come on. Seriously? You’re going to sell drugs right under the nose of the IED?

Not that they were aware she was part of the Investigation and Enforcement Division since she was in plainclothes and wasn’t flashing her badge. And she wouldn’t unless it became absolutely necessary. Getting recognized as an agent while she extricated Liza from her latest harebrained adventure was the last thing she needed. It’d be just her luck that somebody would report back to headquarters and get her ass canned for her sister’s actions, what with the Council’s whole
thou shalt not let humans know we exist
edict.

“
What else can I get you?”

The bartender was back, and Sophie realized she hadn’t even looked at the menu. She turned back around and studiously pretended she hadn’t been ogling him a minute ago. “I’m looking for someone.”

“
Ain’t we all,
chère
?” His mouth curved into a smile with enough kilowatts to fry an alligator.

Put that away, Cajun
, Sophie thought as her blood heated with something other than temper. “One of your staff members, actually. Liza Cunningham?”

The smile didn’t fade, but his eyes chilled. “What you be wantin’ with Liza?” Suspicion snaked around the easy tone, but Sophie couldn’t tell whether it was in the name of saving his own ass or something else.

What are you hiding?

While she debated for a long moment about whether to reveal their family connection, another of the waitresses leaned over. “I tried Liza again from my cell, Mick. Still no answer. Looks like we’ll be doing without her tonight. I need a long neck Michelob . . . ”

Sophie tuned out the order. Her brain was too busy focusing on what the girl had just said. Liza wasn’t here. She wasn’t answering her cell or her house phone. Sophie had tried both, of course, several times since she’d left Atlanta, but she’d assumed Liza was screening her calls and knew perfectly well that her ass was gonna wind up in a sling. But if she wasn’t answering for work and hadn’t called in . . . Well, that wasn’t like her. She might have a wild hair, as their mother was liable to say, but she always met her responsibilities.

When Mick finished handing over the latest order of drinks to the waitress, Sophie pulled out her badge. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”

Chapter 2

M
ick
glanced at the badge in her hand. IED.
Merde.

She didn’t look like an assassin. Not their usual sort anyway. That’s who the Council of Races normally sent to deal with humans who’d found out about their world. They never cared about the hows or the whys. It was black and white for the Council, and the bulk of its members valued human life about as much as the lowest form of swamp rat. Mick had little respect for the government of the paranormal world, and less for those sent to do their bidding. He’d spent years working to circumvent their laws through his work with the Underground. He sure as hell wasn’t about to let this piece of work get anywhere near one of his own, no matter what Liza may have seen or figured out.

Suppressing a growl, Mick gestured her down to the pass through at the end of the bar, his brain frantically calculating the best means of damage control. Liza wasn’t on the premises and maybe that was a good thing just now. He’d do his damnedest to get rid of this agent, and then for gods’ sake he had to find Liza and get her the hell out of town. How that was going to work with a bar full of customers, a hurricane bearing down, and without knowing exactly what Liza already knew, he wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to let her die.

He didn’t like having the compact little assassin at his back as they made their way down the length of the bar and to his office off the other end. She wouldn’t pull a knife or cast a spell in front of so many witnesses, but feeling her eyes on him made his shoulders twitch, which was an unacceptable show of weakness. Before closeting himself in with her, he caught the eye of his second in command. Jeanette nodded once. She would keep watch and have the rest of his motley Pack at the ready should they be needed. He prayed they wouldn’t be. The memory wipe and damage control for this volume of people would be a real bitch.

There were no decent defensible positions in his office, being that the room was little more than a closet with a desk and file cabinet jammed in cheek by jowl. It wasn’t something that had come up before since he only used it for paperwork, ordering, and the occasional private conversation with members of his staff. As he shut the door behind himself, Mick felt as if the square footage had shrunk by half. The woman eyed the spindly chair on the visitor’s side of the desk and continued to stand. Mick didn’t move around her to his own chair.

Deciding that a good offense was the best defense, he didn’t wait for her to speak. Instead he launched in, dropping the thick accent he slathered on for customers. “Liza Cunningham is not the only human in my employ, Agent . . . ”

“
Hayden. Sophie Hayden. And I had noticed that Mr . . . .?”

“
Micajah Guidry. My place is entirely on the up and up. I have both human employees and Mirus, and while they fraternize on the premises, no rules have been violated. None of my human employees, including Liza, know anything about the Mirus world. If you’ll allow me to get to my file cabinet, I can show you all the proper paperwork that was filed with the Council regarding my set up. I’ve got the proper permits for hiring humans—”

“
I’m sure you do, Mr. Guidry. I’m not interested in your paperwork or permits. I’m interested in Liza.”

He couldn’t stop the wolf from rising up inside him. She threatened one of his Pack. When he spoke, his voice was edged with a growl. “Liza’s done nothin’ wrong. She’s broken no laws.”

Sophie lifted one well-shaped brow. “Not recently anyway.”

That brought him up short.

“
What is your relationship with Liza?” she asked.

“
She’s my employee.”

“
Your employee. Why is it, then, that I get the sense you’d be happy to rip me apart if I proved to be a threat to her?”

Mick dug deep for patience and some measure of civility. “She is alone in this city. No family. Few friends. Same as most of my other employees. We make our own family, Agent Hayden. I protect what’s mine.”

She tipped her head, curiosity plainly etched on her face. “You speak of them as Pack.”

“
Family is more than blood and race,” he replied.

Something like approval flashed in her eyes. What the hell was going on?

“
You can stand down, Mr. Guidry. I’m not here in my professional capacity. And while I came here with every intention of dragging Liza away whether she likes it or not, it isn’t for the reasons you seem to think.” She blew out a long breath and seemed to exhale some of the stiffness with it. “Liza is my sister.”

“
Sister?” Mick repeated. “But she’s . . . ”

“
Human, yes. We share a mother. She has a propensity for getting into trouble in our world, which, as you are well aware, she isn’t supposed to know about.”

Studying Sophie, he could see some subtle similarities. The similar soft mouth. Same diminutive stature. Maybe the same shape to the face. But the same could be said of many women, and Liza had never mentioned a sister. Was this some kind of trick? Some means of sniffing out his affiliation with the Underground?

“
Is Liza in some kinda trouble?” asked Mick, his mind and body shifting to deal with a different kind of threat.

Her cell phone rang and she held up a finger in a
just a second
motion as she checked the caller ID before shoving it back into her pocket. “Sorry. I was hoping you’d be able to tell me. She hasn’t come in tonight?”

“
No. Nobody’s heard from her.”

She leaned back against his desk, crossing her arms. “I’ve been trying to reach her all day, but I figured she was just avoiding my calls. When was the last time you saw her?”

“
Last night. Or this mornin’, dependin’ on how you look at it. Several of the girls live within walkin’ distance, so me and a couple of the boys rotate to make sure all our girls get home safe. I walked her home at two, after clean up,” he explained. “I didn’t sense anything that set off my radar. We realized she wasn’t in about an hour and a half ago. Been tryin’ to get her ever since.”
Why didn’t I send somebody to check on her sooner?
The gnawing sensation in his gut was rising. He had a bad, bad feeling about this.

“
Do you remember anybody hassling her at all last night? Watching her? Anybody who shows up regularly and sits in her section?”

Mick sifted through his memories of the last few weeks, but they were hazy, all running together. “I’d have remembered anybody givin’ her grief. I don’t tolerate mistreatment of my people. As for regulars, we’ve got a lot of ’em. We’re a neighborhood place, so we’ve got a lot of the same folks in several times a week. She’s an attractive woman, so a lotta men watch her. But none of ’em ever made any kinda pass at her, as far as I know. It’s somethin’ I generally discourage.”

“
Is she seeing anybody?”

“
Not that I know of. She doesn’t talk about her personal life or family overmuch.”

“
At least she followed one rule,” Sophie muttered. She shoved away from the desk and dug in a jacket pocket. "Look, I’ll leave my card. Call if you hear from her. I’m going to check out her apartment.”

“
Keep it,” said Mick. “I’m comin’ with you.”

Her eyes met his. “This is not your problem, Mr. Guidry. And in case you hadn’t noticed, you’ve got a full house out there.”

“
Mick. And my people can handle it. I told you. I protect what’s mine.”