Hunger's Mate (11 page)

Tonight, she'd come with more information on Jewel, information that Ezra needed to know, but hated hearing just the same.

“The diamonds are reportedly worth four million dollars. Lawrence Crowe, then an active captain in the U.S. Marines, reported them missing three years ago, two weeks prior to Jewel's arrival at Perryville,” Priya stated, continuing with the revelations they'd been sharing in the thirty minutes since Jewel's arrest.

“Crowe suspected her from the very beginning, giving the police her name and her father's name. Police never found either of them,” Priya continued, her fingers tapping lightly over the keyboard, the six-carat pink diamond engagement ring sparkling on her left hand.

“She's not a thief,” Ezra said through clenched teeth. “There's got to be more to this story.”

Jacques made a sound that seemed to indicate that he did not agree. The shifter definitely had attitude. From the moment he'd arrived in Bas's office and was told that Jewel had been arrested he'd been standing close to the door, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, his long dreadlocks pulled back from a face fixed in a perpetual frown.

Ezra couldn't quite read what Jacques's emotions were, his senses were so full of Jewel's scent. The look on her face, the pounding of her heart that he'd heard clearly over all the action that had been going on in the restaurant. He didn't have time to wonder what the hell was going through Jacques's mind, as long as it didn't involve Jewel outside of the present circumstances. After his conversation with Jacques this morning he'd thought maybe, just maybe, even though there had been no
companheiro calor
between the shifter and Jewel, that there were some feelings there, some attraction. Ezra wasn't going to like it if there was. He wouldn't like it, not one goddamn bit.

“I agree,” Bas said, pinning Ezra with a gaze that said he knew exactly what he was thinking and he wanted him to shut it down, pronto.

Ezra didn't flinch. And he didn't stop thinking of all the ways he could cause Jacques pain if the other shifter even considered touching Jewel in any way.

“You knew when she came here, didn't you?” Jacques asked Bas, a chill hovering in the air as his words settled.

It was Bas's turn not to flinch. Hell, the FL didn't even blink before replying, “Yes.”

Priya sat back in her chair, looking at her mate questioningly but not saying a word.

“You let her stay here at Perryville because you knew she was on the run.” Ezra stared at the man wearing dress slacks and a crisp white dress shirt sans tie, since he'd already been in his room about to settle down for the night when he heard that police officers were on the premises. Bas was an ambitious businessman and a cautious leader. He would have checked under every rock to find out any- and everything about someone before allowing them as close to him and their kind as he had Jewel.

“Fuck!” Jacques exclaimed.

Ezra didn't spare the shifter another glance, but kept his focus on Bas, asking, “Why?”

“She was afraid and she needed refuge. I couldn't send her away and not feel the guilt of what might have happened to her if I did,” Bas explained. “And I didn't know about the switched identity until the next year when Crowe began working at Comastaz. The article in the local paper mentioned the robbery and the woman he was still looking for. I saw Jewel reading the article in the office. She was visibly shaken and I wondered why.”

“Then you connected the dots and decided not to confront her?” Priya asked. “Because to protect her you had to make her believe her identity was safe.”

“That type of fear doesn't surround a female that simply wanted to steal millions of dollars in jewels from a man,” Bas stated.

Ezra pounded a fist against the desk, his strength sending a crack through the mahogany. “No, it doesn't,” he spoke, murder clear in his eyes.

Bas had looked down at his desk, then back up to the shifter, his lips drawing tightly. Priya closed her laptop and stood.

“You can't let Crowe get ahold of her. If you're thinking what I'm thinking she's in even more danger now even though she's with the police.” She spoke quietly to Bas, but there was a sense of urgency in her tone, then a look of empathy as she turned to Ezra. “And if you don't go get her he's going to tear this entire resort down.”

Ezra didn't bother to argue that point. In fact, he'd already decided to go and get Jewel or Dawn or whatever her real name was. He didn't give a damn. The files on that flash drive had only held pictures of her, not who or what she was to Crowe or anything about what the bastard had done to her. Finding out that his suspicions about her were correct and that Crowe had most likely abused her in some way had him so angry the vertebrae in his back were already cracking with the urge to shift. He was halfway to the door when Bas's voice stopped him.

“Priya will call the commissioner to see if bail's been set. In the meantime, the three of us will head to the police station. We'll bring her back here and then decide what to do with her,” Bas directed.

Ezra reached for the door handle, knowing what he was about to say and do was going to be out of line, knowing he could possibly lose his job for the blatant insubordination. He didn't really give a damn about either circumstance. “I'm going to that jail and getting her out whether it's with money or by force.”

He'd already opened the door and walked through it without looking back, before he heard the footsteps behind him.

*   *   *

The ride to the Sedona Police Department was a tensely quiet one, with Jacques behind the wheel, Bas in the front passenger seat, and Ezra in the back.

It hadn't escaped Ezra's thoughts that this was a foul situation, one which he probably should not have been so immersed in. And yet he was. His chest heaved with each breath because the stench of her pain was so embedded in his senses. His fists clenched at the thought, his mind filling with a familiar darkness and memories that brought back his own fears, his own period of helplessness.

Acacia had taken something from both him and Eli. She'd opened their minds to so many things sexual and intimate. While Ezra's emotions hadn't gone as far as Eli's, he could admit that he was in heavy-duty lust with the tribe princess, so much so that he'd gone willingly with his brother each night, eager for the opportunity to be with her one more time. When he'd learned of her betrayal, of the sick and cruel way in which she'd used them, he'd been angry and embarrassed, and still aroused by her.

The night that came into clear focus was not their first time with her. He and Eli had hurried through the day, finishing each new task the tribe leader, Teodoro, was trying to teach them. The idea was for them,
Top
è
tenia
warriors, to learn the new ways of fighting that the tribes that had defected from the Gungi had developed. There weren't many leaders that had openly accepted them and their thoughts on reuniting the tribes. In fact, Ezra had the impression that Teodoro thought it was all a game. The leader taught them about his tigers, about how they stalked their prey, how they pounced without warning, how they fought to the death, but then he laughed each time Eli and Ezra had attempted to combat them. He hadn't believed they'd ever be any match for his tribe. But he'd been wrong.

On this night Acacia had Ezra and Eli undress. She was always naked when they arrived, much to the twins' excitement. Ezra had been hard instantly, almost unable to wait until he could sink inside her seemingly always wet and waiting pussy. Only this time they'd watched. Three other couples had appeared and Acacia had Ezra and Eli walk around watching them, critiquing them until Eli had wanted to vomit and Ezra had simply wanted to wring her neck for the intense torture she'd put them through. As an aroused shifter, watching other shifters find release while holding back is not a pretty sight and Acacia, like her father, had laughed at the end of the session when Eli had complained. Ezra had remained silent—he'd watched, and he'd learned. Each night they were together he'd taken in more, experienced more, stored away more emotions than he'd ever thought to feel in his lifetime.

Tonight, sitting in the backseat of this truck, he felt similar to how he'd felt each night he'd gone back to their hut and lay down to sleep. As if he'd thought he was walking into one situation and was completely surprised by what it had truly turned out to be. If he had known what he knew now, he would have never gone into Acacia's hut. He would have never allowed her to destroy a part of his soul, and a part of his brother's.

On this night, Ezra had no intention of allowing this Captain Crowe or the local police to destroy any part of Jewel. Not one goddamned part!

*   *   *

They pulled into the parking lot of the station and Bas turned in his seat as Jacques finished parking the truck.

“Let me do the talking. You and Jacques stay behind me,” he instructed.

Ezra didn't make a sound.

“Do you hear me, Preston? Whatever you've got going on inside I need you to get a grip. This isn't D.C. We don't go around shifting and roaring our way around here. I'll handle this with a cool head and we'll be back at the resort in no time.”

“Whatever, let's just get this the fuck over with,” Ezra mumbled, climbing out of the back of the truck.

Before he could take another step, Bas was in his face.

“Look, I'm allowing you some leeway here, but don't fucking push me. If you get in here and lose it, I'm kicking your sorry ass all the way back to D.C. and taping my report of reprimand to your goddamned forehead! We clear, guard?”

The cat in Ezra was clear on one thing—save Jewel—and kill anyone who gets in his way. The man, on the other hand, had a great deal of respect for Roman Reynolds and the Stateside Assembly, which trickled down to respecting Bas the FL, but he had no doubt if that shifter put his hands on him he'd fight back to the death, respect be damned.

Still, he nodded and waited until Bas took the lead. To his left Jacques was silent, his face still tightly drawn so that he looked a bit more menacing in the dark of night, moving with a stalking quality to his gait as they approached the precinct.

They weren't inside five minutes before Ezra knew this wasn't going to go as smoothly as the FL had planned. There was an eerie feel to the place, and something just wasn't right. With a quick assessment of the perimeter, the first thing Ezra noted was that there weren't many people in the precinct. Now, of course, Sedona was a far cry from the Metro Police Department in D.C., which he had seen the inside of on an occasion or two. Still, he was almost positive there should be more than one officer on duty. Yet, the room was basically empty.

“She's being held on a ‘no bail' status,” replied the lone officer, who stood like he held all authority.

His badge read
SERGEANT
but his inferiority complex went well beyond that title. The way he stood toe to toe with Bas, tilting his head upward a bit because his barely six-foot height paled in comparison to Bas's six-feet-plus. As a matter of fact, the three of them were taller than the officer standing in the middle of the room, as if he planned to physically block them from getting to Jewel. That definitely was not going to work.

“Sergeant Mahoney,” Bas began once more, his voice still calm, his stance of authority never wavering.

Ezra was to his left, Jacques to his right. There was no need for Bas to waver, none at all, not as long as they were there. At his sides Ezra's fists clenched. He was ready for whatever. Or was he? Right at this moment, “whatever” seemed to be an unidentifiable scent, a foul aroma that lingered in the air, sitting still like the desert humidity, wrapping around him until he felt like he was cocooned.

In Sierra Leone, Ezra and his brother had been trained in many ways by the
Lormenian
tribe leader, their grandfather, and a shaman that recognized something in the twins other than their size and good looks. It was their senses, the unique way in which they could track and hunt throughout a rain forest otherwise unknown to them. Returning to the States, Ezra used his additional talents when necessary. Eli, on the other hand, refused to acknowledge anything about Sierra Leone. Tonight, however, Ezra wished his brother was here with him. He wished he had another set of eyes, ears, and better scenting abilities to figure out what the hell was going on here.

“Ms. Montgomery has no prior criminal record and she's been in my employ for the last three years. I can personally vouch for the fact that she is not a flight risk,” Bas continued to inform the asshole cop who was quickly beginning to piss Ezra off.

“You her lawyer?” the cop asked.

Bas replied immediately, his voice unruffled. “No. I am not.”

“Then you can just turn your fancy-suit-wearing self right around and go back to your overpriced hotel,” Mahoney snapped, a comment Ezra was sure wasn't going to go over well.

It had been clear from the moment Bas stated his name and announced who he was that Mahoney didn't care for him. It didn't matter, none of them gave a damn who this man liked or disliked. And Ezra, unfortunately, was about to say just that when another person, not dressed in a police uniform, appeared from across the room. This was a big guy, much bigger than the cop, with shoulders that looked like a battering ram. He walked sort of slowly, like maybe his legs might be too heavy for him. That was understandable since they looked like tree trunks, big meaty fists balled at his sides. His pants and shirt were tight and at any moment Ezra thought he might actually break through them and turn into a big green monster.

“Ms. Montgomery's attorney will be here momentarily. At which time we would like to officially request bail so that we can post it,” Bas continued, but Ezra kept his eyes on the new player in this game that was steadily approaching.