Shift Work (Carus #4) (3 page)

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Whatever,” Ben said. Still chuckling, he handed me the clipboard to sign in.

****

ATF. I recited my poem again and bolstered some courage to walk out of the elevator. Angelica, one of Tristan’s Wereleopards, greeted me with the condescending smile she reserved just for me. She loved Tristan, as a leader and probably as something more. They had no history like that, nor would they ever. Not if my hissing mountain lion and I had anything to say about it.

The icy glare trying to freeze me on the spot spoke otherwise. Along with immaculate up-dos, Angie liked power, and Tristan had it.

Mine
, my mountain lion hissed, sending me images of Tristan’s naked body.

The incinerator in my core kicked up a notch, and Angie’s ice-queen antics held no effect on me. The SRD office wasn’t the place for dominance games. My best behaviour meant keeping my mouth shut instead of bitch-smacking Angie like she deserved.

What Angie really needed was a new man to set her sights on. Maybe Allan needed another lady friend to scare the crap out of. Not exactly Angie’s type, but the match-up worked for me.

“I know a single Vampire, if you’re interested,” I said in way of greeting. Sure, Allan didn’t technically count as a friend, but she didn’t need to know that.

Angie waved me off with manicured hands.

“Super powerful. Super freaky deeky.”

Her dainty little face pinched up as she scowled at me. “I assume you’re here to speak with Agent Tucker? He’s been expecting you since we got news of Lucien. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

What the hell? How did Tucker know I lived? I paused and took a deep breath. ATF stole my thunder. I’d planned to give him a rude shock. “How’d he find out I survived Lucien’s death?”

Angie shrugged. “Wasn’t from me.”

Huh.
Maybe ATF had more contacts in the supe community than I suspected. Or maybe he had me watched. My skin prickled, and my mountain lion yowled for release.

Angie pushed a button on her desk, and Tucker’s nauseating voice trickled through the speakers. “Yes?”

“Andrea McNeilly to see you, sir.” Angie’s voice dropped several octaves to morph into one of a throaty phone sex operator.

Hmm.
Last time I’d stomped into the office, Angie had been on her best behaviour with ATF, almost nervous. What changed?

Maybe Angie no longer prowled for a power player. Maybe she went norm and saddled Tucker. God, I hoped so. That would make my day. ATF wouldn’t stand a chance against this man-eater.

“Send her in,” Tucker responded.

Angie somehow puckered and curled her lips in a look that screamed mean girl, and nodded toward the door.

“Thanks,” I said. My lie stunk and it made me smile.

One step into Tucker’s office and I had to take a deep breath to fortify myself against the bombardment of images assaulting my eyes. Tucker decorated his office using pictures of himself with important people, or at least, people he thought held some clout, including his father, the director of the SRD. None of those big names could stop me if I decided to let my feras have their way with Tucker.

Obscure books lined his bookshelves and today Tucker had
The Catcher and the Rye
, by J. D. Salinger, facing out for all to see what a complex individual he really was.

The room reeked of Tucker’s expensive cologne and his bland, boring as paper norm scent. I ground my teeth and approached him. He sat behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded across his lap. My thin file with the coffee mug ring stain sat ominously on the smooth desk surface between us. The folder used to be stuffed full of documents, none of which I’d been privy to, but Booth had “cleaned” the file before taking off.

“Ms. McNeilly.” Tucker waved his hand at one of the faux-leather seats across his desk. “What an unexpected surprise.”

Foul-smelling, like a manky chicken truck, his lie moved through the room obliterating all other scents. This, in addition to my folder on his desk, contradicted his words. I plastered on a fake smile and set my shoulders back. “Agent Tucker,” I said and sat down.

“What can I do for you?”

“Well, given that you addressed me as Ms. McNeilly instead of ambassador, I assume you’re already aware of the power shift in the local Vampire court.”

“Of course.” His bright hazel eyes bore into mine, his only remarkable feature. Everything else about the man came across as bland, average, nondescript. That wasn’t me being mean either. Honest truth. The man would’ve made a great undercover agent. Blending in with any crowd, he could’ve slipped in and out of crime scenes. Too bad he was soft and
Daddy
handed everything to him instead of making him work for it.

With the urge to throw insults at him somewhat suppressed, I decided to cut to the point and make this as professional as possible. “The new Master Vampire made it expressly known he doesn’t wish to continue the liaison relationship with the SRD.”

“You could have informed us of his decision via the phone.” Tucker stretched his arms out before leaning forward and resting them on his desk. “Why are you really here?”

“I want to be reinstated as an agent.” I held my breath and cringed on the inside. My blood pumped slowly with a gritty sensation, as if asking Tucker for something left grime in my veins.

Agent Tucker chuckled and flopped back into his chair. He smiled at the ceiling. “Priceless.”

“I’m glad you think so.” The desire to leap across his desk and finish what I started months ago pulled at me hard. We’d seen each other more than I’d like since our first fateful meeting, but the urge to hurt him hadn’t dissipated. I clutched the armrests of my chair and dug my toes into the soles of my shoes.

“Answer me this, Andrea.”

I nodded, not trusting my speech at this moment. Sure, I was capable of saying something, but whatever came out of my mouth would be accompanied with a string of curses that would make a salty old sea dog blush.

“How’d you survive?” he demanded.

I pursed my lips and forced my breathing to remain controlled. How’d he know I survived before I showed up at his office? That’s what I wanted to demand in return. I bit my tongue instead, and forced the tension from my muscles before responding. “What do you mean?”

“How’d you survive Lucien’s death?” he asked again. “You were blood bonded to him and should’ve died.”

Burnt cinnamon rolled off his body. So, Agent Tucker was a bit pissed I lived. Had he heard the news about Lucien’s death and danced around in his office because he thought I’d died as well? Did news of my survival crash him back to reality?
Sorry to disappoint you, ATF.

“Oh, Agent Tucker. I didn’t know you cared.” I forced my body to stay relaxed, and shushed the animals snarling in my head.

Tucker recoiled, and his hands balled into little fists. “How?” he demanded.

I shrugged. “Lucien must’ve released me from the bond before his untimely demise.”

Tucker pursed his lips and drummed his fingers on the desk as he studied me. His narrow gaze an amateur attempt at the stink eye, as if he willed me to divulge all my secrets with the power of his pissy face.

Not happening.

Not ever.

They might know I survived Lucien’s death, but my survival had plausible, if not inaccurate, explanations. If they ever found out about my beast, I’d end up on the run or in their lab. A tremor ran through my body.

Tucker’s gaze faltered, and he broke the silence. “So Allan has no wish to sully his own veins by re-establishing a blood bond.”

No point in correcting him. I had no wish to go through another blood bond either.

He grabbed the file with my information and flipped through it. His gaze focused forward, but he didn’t pause long enough to read anything. His irises didn’t contract; instead, his pupils dilated like someone staring off into space. As he shuffled the documents, the paper crinkled and rustled in time with my twitching eye.

Bite
, my mountain lion snarled.

Peck
, said my falcon.

I wanted to reach across the desk, haul Tucker over the smooth surface by his smarmy rich-boy shirt, and stomp on his face.

Best behaviour
, I reminded myself.
Be good.

ATF finally sighed and closed the file, placing it gently back on the desk. Apparently, he didn’t plan to share any of the file’s contents with me. He laced his fingers together and peered at me. “You’re of no use to the Vampire court.”

I frowned. “I’m not asking to be of use to the Vampire court.”

“No. You’re asking to be of use to the SRD. Given your previous criminal activities, which should’ve been pursued instead of waved off…”

I started to object, but ATF spoke over me.

“And given that you no longer hold a connection with the Vampire court, I’m afraid you have no value to us here at the SRD. No use to the Vampires means no use to us.” He paused and slid his gaze to mine, daring me to contradict.

Or did he want me to beg? Neither would happen. I’d lowered myself to ask for a job from this man for nothing. My skin crawled. My fingers itched to claw his face. My blood heated.

“Well,” I said as I stood up quickly. “Thank you for your time.”

Agent Tucker’s eyes widened, and he hesitated before also standing.

“It’s been a pleasure to work with you.” I held my hand out and waited. My falcon sent me pictures of pecking out his eyes, and my mountain lion begged me to shift and rend him from head to toe. Neither would happen. At least, not right now. As much as I despised Tucker, killing him today would only add to my problems.

Tucker stared at my open palm as if it could transmit rabies. If only.

I waited.

And waited.

Finally, he clasped my hand in a weak, sweaty grip. I slipped my hand forward in his limp handshake, clenched hard and pulled him over the desk, close enough to whisper in his ear.

“You just threw away the one thing protecting your ass,” I hissed. “Thank you.”

I released his hand and smiled as he staggered back.

Oh Feradea, that felt
good
.

Chapter Four

“The most important thing in life is to be yourself. Unless you can be Wonder Woman. Always be Wonder Woman.”

~Unknown

Unfortunately, immediate gratification rarely paid the bills. In fact, I’d argue right now, it kind of screwed me over in the long run.

I was officially unemployed.

My fingernails dug into the steering wheel as I turned off Lougheed Highway and headed toward Port Moody. I shouldn’t have attempted retail therapy after meeting with ATF. Now my car chugged along with the rush hour traffic, and it always bottle-necked around the corner. Tristan said he planned to work from home today, so I’d hoped to surprise him at his place without any of his pride present.

Now, I had to worry about possible spectators along with my lack of employment.

My savings would cover me for another six months; years, if I moved out of the Lower Mainland.

Move away from Tristan? My heart flopped before convulsing in my chest.

Live with leopard man
, my mountain lion purred. She and Tristan had been dropping not-so-subtle-hints about cohabitation. Like he didn’t spend most of his days and nights at my place already.

I might not be ready to officially live with Tristan, but I sure as heck wasn’t moving away, either.

Still, I didn’t want to sit in my home and twiddle my thumbs. I’d go crazy. Certifiable. And no one needed a nut-job Carus rampaging around. If knowledge of my skills spread, the SRD would find a new use for me. They’d send a retrieval unit out and throw my cat ass in a specimen cage.

My skin crawled. Nope. No desire to end up in the SRD lab as another specimen. ATF would probably come by and poke me through the bars.

I pulled up to a large house in the Port Moody neighbourhood. The last time I’d been here, I’d been scouting Angie. Watching her dance around in her undies and waiting for her to lead me to the rival Master Vampire, Ethan.

Unlike a Werewolf pack, where most individuals lived in their own homes and came to the Alpha’s place for meetings and get-togethers, the entire Wereleopard pride lived under one roof. They’d
all
moved back in. Good thing the house was huge.

The idea of multiple spectators to the budding romance between me and Tristan made my skin crawl. My past experience with a Were-group-gone-bad didn’t help, and Tristan always came to my place, or we went out. I’d yet to visit his home since choosing him over Wick, and I knew my inaction pained Tristan. Despite assuring him I wasn’t rejecting his pride or this part of his life, I’d seen the creases in the corner of his eyes, and smelled the sour air, bruised with his hurt.

I had only met two of the pride—Angie, who I had to refrain from punching in the throat from my general dislike on a regular basis, and a submissive male who’d seen me strapped naked to a gurney. I didn’t fault him for not helping. His choices had been taken from him. His timely appearance had spared me from more suffering, removed the sick torturer from the room, and ultimately led to my escape.

Maybe he’d be home as well and I could thank him.

Or maybe I could just turn around and do this meet and greet another time.

My mountain lion yowled, her irritation running down the inside of my skull like claws.

Coward!
My falcon squawked.

They were right. What was up with me today?

I mentally pulled on my big-girl-panties and clambered out of the car. The heat radiated off the stone walkway and caressed my legs before I climbed up the three steps to the entrance. The large red double doors stared back at me, daring me to knock or run away. I stood frozen with self-doubt. Tristan said he’d work from home today. He also said I could stop by
any
time. Why did I feel like I intruded before I even stepped over the threshold?

With a long inhale, I rapped my knuckles against the painted wood. Citrus and sunshine spiraled through the door seals and encircled me. Fresh and warm, despite the cold nip in the air. Not Tristan’s scent, the one laced with honeysuckles, but one belonging to a pride member. My mountain lion purred from deep within, wanting to shift and roll around in the smell.