The Awakening: Britton (Entangled Covet) (5 page)

No wonder she’d been livid. Miss High and Mighty had fallen from her throne. And
he
was being

offered her job. Just as she had been offered his when he’d fallen.

Well, well, well.
How the tables had turned.

That alone was enough for him to agree to do this. Not that he had a choice. He sure as hell wasn’t

going to Kerker.

“Exactly what is the situation?” he asked.

“Samantha Mills’s son was taken from World Shifters by an unknown group of radicals. If we do not

reform the ancient laws and release Samantha, they are going to tell the world of our existence. They are

holding the boy hostage up in the mountains. You will find them and get him back. We need this resolved.”

Wow. No wonder the council was willing to work with a criminal they’d convicted themselves. “Is a

team being assembled?”

“No. With you on the case, there will be no need for a task force. Detective Calhoun will lend help as

needed, but we are relying on you to get this settled as quickly as possible.”

Only the most confidential, complex cases were given to the head of SPAC because they had the rarest

abilities. “So you have nothing to go on?”

A muscle twitched in Harwood’s cheek. “No.”

So it was just him…and Val.

Dea
. How was he going to handle being alone with her again?

He’d done it a couple of months ago when they’d searched for Liam after he’d been abducted by a wack

job bent on revenge. Britton hadn’t gone completely mad being around her. Maybe the south side of crazy,

but not stark-raving mad. He could do it again.

Harwood nodded to one of the council members at the end of the table, who stood holding a hard

plastic case. As Councilman Ryker approached Britton, he opened it and withdrew a syringe filled with a

pale purple serum.

Ryker looked at him. “Lift your shirt.”

He hesitated, remembering what it had felt like the last time they’d stuck that long needle under his ribs.

Agony would’ve been welcomed. But what he’d felt that day had far surpassed agony.

As the serum had emptied into his body, his beast had raged, ravaged his insides, tearing at him until he

was sure the animal would claw its way out of his skin and emerge from a mangled hole in his torso, a

rabid beast before him…not a part of him. Then the convulsions had started, his beast trembling, bucking,

making it difficult for him to draw breath, suffocating him.

He had gasped for air, yanked at the shackles, believing it wasn’t just his beast they were taking away

from him, but also his life.

Then his beast had gone silent, and he hadn’t felt it or his abilities ever since.

What would happen this time?

“The shirt, Officer Townsend.”

“Don’t we need the shackles?” He somehow produced a smile, trying to come off nonchalant, but he

was held captive by the sight of the syringe.

“Not this time.”

Swallowing, he gathered his shirt up over his pecs. Ryker tapped his right side with two fingers until he

found a spot between the ribs. Slowly, the needle went in, deep under Britton’s skin. As the serum emptied,

his side warmed, as though a flush of heated water was being injected into him.

No pain. No movement. No snarling.

Nothing.

Ryker straightened, and Britton studied the man’s impassive expression. “It didn’t work.”

“Your beast and shifter DNA have been dormant for over four years. It will take a few days for your

beast to fully awaken from its slumber.”

“How am I supposed to get this done quickly if it takes that long?”

“Your abilities should start returning within the hour. Reconnecting completely with your beast is what

will take time.”

So the process would be slow this go-round. Seemed unfair, since it’d taken nothing more than a

minute for them to silence his beast. Maybe it was better this way. He’d gotten used to living as a human. If

he could solve this case before the full reconnection took effect, maybe he wouldn’t have to relive losing it

again.

The months following the injection had been awful.

He hadn’t realized all the little things that had made him a shifter. Endurance, extra strength, extra

energy…all gone. Running had become difficult when it had been effortless before. He’d spent hours in the

gym retraining his muscles, and still could only lift half of what he’d easily handled as a shifter.

Learning to adjust had taken a long time, but he’d found a way. And after watching Liam and Aidan

deal with the
Drall
, he’d become thankful for his punishment. Who in their right mind wanted to be

controlled by an all-consuming instinct to mate? Or have to face the repercussions of the so-called “gift”

from their
Dea
?

A gift that allowed a shifter and his mate to
fewse
their souls together so they would never be parted.

Even death couldn’t separate them, but kept them spiritually connected until the other passed on, as well,

and brought them together to live happily ever after in the sacred shifter hereafter known as Anavrin.

Eternity with
one
woman.
Blech
.

He never, ever wanted to deal with that shit.

Now he was susceptible to it again, or would be in a few days. He needed to be careful—keep away

from anyone who might awaken the instinct.

As Ryker walked away, he lowered his shirt.

Harwood looked at him. “An arrangement will be made with the police force. As of right now, you are

on medical leave due to a back injury from some home repairs. You will be with Detective Calhoun 24-7.

Both of you will live and breathe this case until it is closed. We’ve made reservations for a small cabin up

near where World Shifters is located.”

So he was locked away with his enemy for the foreseeable future.

A shudder of disgust went through Brit.

Well. There was some good news, anyway.

At least now he wouldn’t have to worry about the
Drall
.

…

Val fidgeted in her seat, smoothing the material of her pants, crossing and uncrossing her legs, a squirm

here, a twitch there. Anxiety wreaked havoc on her nerves. What would it be like to work with Britton

again?

Last time, every minute they’d searched for Liam together had been complete torture. Oh, how she’d

wanted to slap that arrogant smirk off his face. Bad enough he constantly made her resort to childish

bickering, but to actually itch to feel her palm meet his cheek with a resounding smack was infuriating. She

was better than that. She hated how he made her lose control.

She’d never understood what she’d done to the man to garner such virulent distaste. Yes, she had his

job. But she hadn’t gone after it. She’d been offered the position after
he’d
screwed up. So holding a

grudge over that was just plain juvenile.

Unfortunately, sometimes a person met someone who simply made their insides crawl.

She guessed she must do that to him.

He managed his hatred for her pretty well in front of others—unless he was around his friends—but

once they were alone he allowed the disdain to really show. She hated the way his eyes narrowed on her

and that arrogant smirk of his quivered with barely disguised loathing.

All she could hope for was that the High Council would assign a task force to them so she and Britton

weren’t obliged to be alone.
Dea
, she did not want to be alone with the man. She didn’t get paid enough to

deal with him.

The phone rang at Maddy’s desk. A few seconds later, she hung up and looked over at Val. “You can

go in now.”

So the serum had been administered.

Sighing, Val stood, headed down to the end of the hall, and entered the massive double doors. Britton

looked over his shoulder, his jaw clenched, then he returned his attention to the members.

Since there was nowhere for her to sit, she came to stand beside him. His face was as relaxed as ever,

and she could’ve pinched him for it.

Councilman Harwood looked at her. “The procedure is done. Detective Townsend’s abilities should

return fairly quickly. The sooner you two get on this case the better. We’ve reserved a room for you at a

cabin about five miles from where you found the letter. The humans who own the cabin believe you are a

couple. Do you understand?”

Val pressed her lips together, before saying, “Yes, sir.”

A couple. Right. As if she and Britton could ever pull
that
off.

“You will be the only two working the case. Detective Calhoun, you will answer to Detective

Townsend. Whatever he says goes.”

Shame washed over her and she had the hardest time speaking past the tightness in her throat. “Yes,

sir,” she finally gritted out.

She couldn’t look at Britton, refused to see his triumph shining back at her. The only thing she’d ever

really had over him was his job. The one protection against the way he treated her, the one way to put him

back in his place.

And now it was gone.

He held all the power. And he knew it.

“The SPAC unit will be informed that you are working on a special case and will be MIA for the

foreseeable future.”

“And Homicide?”

“Your mother is in the hospital. You’ve gone back to Jersey for a week to see her.”

She hated them using her family as an excuse for her absence. It was bad mojo they were putting out in

the stratosphere.

Harwood slid a file across the table. “This has your undercover identities, licenses, some money, and all

the information we have right now. You are to call me directly for anything else you may require and I will

get whatever you need. You are to leave here and go directly home to pack for a few days in the woods.

Stick to the cover story. No one is to know where you are going. Help yourself to the armory and load up

on tranquilizer darts. We want these bastards alive.”

When she stepped forward to take the file, Britton shot to his feet and snatched it off the table, raising a

brow as if daring her to protest.

Biting back a scathing remark, she reminded herself that he was her superior now. It was his right to

take the lead, and he was merely flexing his leadership muscles. As much as she was tempted, she wouldn’t

take the bait.

She compelled a strained smile onto her lips and stepped back.

“Now get out there, and fix this.”

Turning, she knew Britton would follow. They were stuck with each other for the duration. If she was

going to survive, she needed to make the best of it.

She opened the door for him. With his back to the council, the hostility was open on his face as he

scowled at her. She pursed her lips in a syrupy fake smile.

Nope, she didn’t get paid enough.

Chapter Three

She was taking a much-needed, much-
earned
vacation after this assignment.

Val hadn’t been in the jackass’s company for more than an hour and a half, and already she was

damned near close to killing him. Not that he’d done anything specific, just sat on the passenger side of her

car in stony silence, acting like a pouting child who’d just been put in time-out. It wasn’t her fault they

couldn’t take his stupid Jeep.

Hell, if anything,
she
was the one who should be angry after the High Council had demoted her and

coerced her into working with the dickweed.

Now, granted, she may have rubbed a nerve wrong. When Harwood had said they should take her car

since she was the one supposedly going out of town, she’d innocently said that was good because his Jeep

was too easy to hotwire.

She’d practically seen the fury flowing off him at the reminder that she’d taken his precious Jeep a few

months ago. She hadn’t actually
stolen
it. Just borrowed it to get Liam’s mate to the hospital.

But Britton had been pissy ever since. Well. More pissy.

Get over it.

At least she’d had thirty minutes away from the butthead to pack. Not that she’d had a clue what to

bring. She’d never gone camping in her life. But apparently Britton had…or else he believed in taking his

entire wardrobe with him—which was more probable. The amount of luggage he’d shoved in her trunk

would’ve impressed even the fussiest girl, and made Val’s lone bag look pathetic crammed beneath his.

Now they were minutes from their destination.

It had taken everything in her to keep from balking when Britton found where they were headed on a

map. He hadn’t been able to hide his reaction, or more likely hadn’t wanted to, and had made a nasty

scoffing noise with a muttered, “Yeah, right.”

Yeah, right
was pretty damn accurate, though.

The two of them snuggled away in a place called the Lover’s Nest was completely unbelievable.

Of course, she’d heard of the Lover’s Nest.
Everyone
had heard of the cabins. Couples came from all

over the south to enjoy the private and tranquil setting that was within an hour’s drive of Carnal Ridge.