Unleashed by Shadows (By Moonlight Book 10) (23 page)

And she, unlike most, was good at reading his expressions.

She came at him in a heartbeat, spike heels wielded like weapons. One caught his cheek, laying it open before he could grip both wrists and twist them until the shoes dropped to carpeted floor. She was small but damn, she was strong.

He slammed her against the elevator wall, the bite of the hand rail wringing a cry from those ripe ruby lips. Lips he’d tasted. And still wanted to taste. Dramatically outlined eyes lifted to his, suddenly dewy and helpless.

“I don’t understand. I wasn’t trying to steal anything.” She even managed a slight quaver in her voice.

“Just our secrets,” Colin growled.

Dark eyes narrowed, voice chilled. “Not yours, dreamboat. You’re an open book with nothing interesting on the pages.”

She lunged forward, top of her head clipping him under the chin with teeth clacking force. Twisting, she ducked under his arm, elbow burying deep beneath his ribs to exact a startled grunt. When he scooped her up about a tiny waist, her balled fists went for nose, throat, and temple. But he didn’t let go.

One tight compression stopped her struggles. She uttered a painful gasp and clawed at his arm while his free hand veed about her slender neck, forcing her head back into his shoulder.

Her hair smelled fantastic. Just as he remembered when spread across his pillow.

“Who are you?” he demanded between gritted teeth.

“Please! I can’t breathe,” she mewled, glorious breasts jerking, her sweetly curved body going limp. Alarming him into loosening his hold just a little. Just enough.

Gripping his arm as a fulcrum, she dove downward, head first, swinging one leg up to circle about his neck, pulling him off balance with her unexpected choke hold. Her other knee smashed him full in the face just as the doors dinged open. Flipping lithely to stockinged feet, she sprang out of the elevator, leaving him, nose pumping blood, with only her shoes.

Just like a badass Cinderella.

*

“Where is he?”

“He’s not here, Kendra. I was just making breakfast. Do you want to come in?”

“For answers. And coffee. Cream and sugar.”

Silas opened the door to let his cousin pass. Her mood had him wary. She wasn’t anxious. She wasn’t angry. She was resolute.

While she sat at the table, he slipped into the kitchen, watching her cautiously as he turned the hash browns he’d been tending then poured her coffee, doctoring it to her preference. She took it without a smile.

“Smells good.” She nodded toward the stove.

“I’m a good cook.” He glanced toward the hall to make sure he wasn’t overheard before adding, “It’s that or starve. Eggs with grated cheese, shallots, roasted peppers, and fresh pico de gallo?”

A sigh. “You convinced me.”

He prepared three plates and brought them to the table. Dressed casually for a rare morning at home, he was barefooted, in ragged jeans, a faded hoodie, and morning stubble. Nica appeared, a sleek all business contrast, dark hair in a heavy braid, lean figure in black A-style tank, running shoes, and tights. And a well-defined baby bump.

“Smells good,” she murmured, her hands capping her husband’s shoulders as he twisted to make his mouth available for her kiss.

“You smell good,” he replied. Their gazes held for a long beat. Kendra couldn’t help but smile at seeing him so happy.

Nica turned to her without an offer of welcome. “He’s not here, Kendra. He left sometime during the night. We haven’t heard from him.”

“He was with me.”

Silas’s fork hung suspended halfway to his mouth. Tone crisp, he demanded, “Are you all right?”

Her brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He finished his mouthful, avoiding her stare.

“What’s wrong with him?”

Silas met her eyes and boldly told her, “Nothing.”

Her cup slammed down on the table. At least she didn’t throw it at him. “How dare you sit there and lie to me! You don’t think I can see that he’s going through twelve levels of hell? He told me he was fighting so don’t try blowing me off. It’s more than that. He’s afraid to be with me, to be with his family. He looks terrible. What have you and Alain Babineau gotten him involved in? Tell me the truth! Please!”

Nica put her hand over his. “Tell her, Silas.” At his surprised glance, she added, “If it was you, I’d want to know.”

He took a deep breath and began. “Like I told you, I asked him here to infiltrate a fight ring run by Casper Lee. We’re looking for the top dog here in New Orleans, and he was looking for James. We found out that Police Commissioner Brady is running crime in the city, but what we don’t know is his connection in the North and what they’re after. It’s more than just prostitutes and gambling.”

“It’s Kick,” Kendra concluded. “That’s why Cale is here, to keep it from destroying our kind. And to do that, he has to find James, Martine, and Sylvia. And to do that, he’s fighting and . . .” Her breath caught. Her face paled, first with alarm then with fury as everything clicked. “You let them give him Kick.”

He didn’t deny it.

She exploded up out of her chair. “How could you? Silas, how could you do that to him? To me? Pull him out of it. Now!”

“I can’t, Kendra.” He looked away, guilty as sin. “I don’t know where he is. I think he’s gone to Lee.”

“You let them pump him full of Kick, and you don’t know where he is? My mate? Our king?” Her incredulous expression tightened from disbelief to unforgiving fury. “You heartless bastard.”

“Kendra, I’ll find him. I’ll make sure he’s all right.”

“No! You stay away from him. I’ll find him. His brothers and I will find him and take him home where he belongs. And it’ll be a cold day before we ever come down off our mountain to deal with the likes of you. I trusted you. He trusted you! That will not happen again.”

She stormed from the table to the spare bedroom, grabbing up Cale’s bag so she could stuff his belongings into it. When she heard someone come in behind her, she whirled with a defensive snarl.

“Let me help you,” Nica said softly.

“Why? Why, when you agree with him?”

“Not in this. Not anymore. Let me help you, the way you once did me.”

Recalling that awful moment when she’d watched the tall stranger she’d thought was stealing the love of her life pack Silas’s clothes to take him away from her, Kendra hesitated then simply said, “Thank you.”

Between them, they gathered Cale’s things from bedroom and bath. Silas left them alone.

Kendra held one of his tee shirts to her nose, inhaling deeply until his essence swirled about her, through her.
I’ll find you. I’ll find you and take you home. I won’t let you go.

Finally, with duffle bag weighing as heavily on her shoulder as the situation hung on her heart, Kendra was about to go out the door when Nica touched her arm.

“I hope you can forgive him for doing what he thought was the right thing. He never meant for any harm to come to Cale, not in the past and not now.”

Kendra drew a shaky breath then steadied. “I can’t.”

“Maybe someday.”

A faint, no promises smile. “Maybe.” She embraced the other female impulsively to whisper, “Take care of him.”

“Always.”

*

Alain Babineau slipped into the vinyl booth with a mumbled apology. “Sorry to make you wait. The family’s getting ready for church. It was hard to find an excuse.”

Simon Cummings extended a showy smile and gestured for the busy waitress to refill his coffee cup. “No problem. I only have a few minutes myself, but I did want to touch base with you. You look a little more civilized than the last time I saw you, Detective.”

Babineau flushed, aware that his Sunday suit and fresh shave was a far cry from that night at Maisy J’s when he’d spotted the state representative in the tawdry crowd with one of his own. The call to meet hadn’t surprised him. “Do you mind if I get right to it? Warren Brady. Friend or foe?”

A well-trimmed brow arched. “Right to the top, eh?” He crouched over his cup trying to appear casual as he kept their conversation exclusive. “Warren is . . . complex. He can be friend or executioner.”

“How should I treat what I’ve discovered about him?”

“With kid gloves. You tell me then you tell no one else. Understood?” Silky exterior rippled over the menace underneath.

“He’s dealing with a man called Casper Lee. Lee traffics a Shifter specific drug called Kick, channeling it through an illegal big money fight ring. But you know all this, don’t you, or you wouldn’t have been at that club.”

Cummings’s smooth expression tightened. “My reasons are my business. They are above reproach.”

“Of course, sir. I respect your position, and your privacy. What about Brady? Do I protect his, too?”

“For the moment. Warren is involved in a dangerous game and I’d like to see how his plan plays out before making a move. He’s pitting Lee against Carmen Blutafino, equally dangerous in his own right. Have you discovered how Savoie fits into this?”

“I don’t know that he does. He’ll be back tomorrow. I should be able to find out soon after.”

A smooth smile. “Excellent. Tying that smug bastard into it would be the tastiest icing imaginable. I rely on you completely, Detective. Don’t let me down. I haven’t forgotten the promises I made you. There’s a place for you by my side.”

“Thank you, sir. Our goals are the same. Stop crime and destroy Max Savoie.”

*

He sat on the iron steps of the office trailer, shivering in the cold morning mist. Where was everyone?

“Mick, what the hell are you doing here on a Sunday.”

Oh. That explained it. Cale gave T-Ray a sketchy smile. “No place else to go. Thought I could pick up some hours.”

T-Ray gave him a dubious once over. “Nothing happening today. Have you eaten?”

“Not hungry.”

“Well, c’mon then. I’ll stand you to some coffee. You can watch me eat.”

Because the thought of spending another minute with only his own company had him climbing out of his skin, Cale nodded and walked a weaving path to T-Ray’s pickup. Its body was red, the driver’s door black, and hood green, as awkwardly pieced together as Cale felt at that moment. He climbed in, leaned back. And faded out.

When the vehicle rocked to a halt, Cale forced his eyes open, looking about through the heavy tint of his sunglasses, not knowing where he was. A truck stop? His mind couldn’t grasp anything but the pain twisting inside him like a thick snake impaled on a sharp stick. He couldn’t put together the mechanics to get out of the cab until T-ray came around for him, easing him out, letting him lean.

His boisterous co-worker waved to the teenage girl at the counter, steering Cale toward a booth by the bathrooms. The strong odors of disinfectant, grease, and stale humanity made his situation even more precarious as T-Ray shoved him onto the torn vinyl bench and took the one opposite.

“Hey there, Alma. What’s the special?”

“You knows that menu so good, you coulda writ it yourself. Grits with biscuits and gravy. That’s what you’ll be having.  How ’boutchur pal? He ain’t looking so good.” Cale heard her crepe soles squeak on the linoleum as she backpeddled. “He ain’t gonna toss, is he?”

“He’s fine, Alma. Fetch us some coffee. Don’t forget my half-and-half.”

“Coming right up, sugar pie.”

The scent of her floral perfume laced with cleaning solvent lingered, teasing up Cale’s nose to pound between his temples. While his thoughts and movements dragged, every sense remained razor sharp, each smell more intense, each murmur a roar, the heat coming from the kitchen cooking his brain and parching his skin. Each ragged breath sounded like a scream.

“I think I’m gonna toss,” he mumbled.

“You don’t want to do it in there. Here, sip on this.”

The plastic water glass the waitress had set before him screeched across the table, setting his teeth on edge.  He fumbled for the straw and sucked up cool bliss.

“Go easy ‘til it hits bottom.”

Cale forced himself to take tiny drinks, the liquid a balm to his dehydrated body. He closed aching eyes and listened to the man chat endlessly about the work week ahead until the coffee arrived. Squinting, he watched in mild horror as so much sugar dumped into his cup, the spoon could hardly cut through.

“Here. This’ll perk you up.”

They both knew that’s not what it was going to take to perk him up, but Cale nodded his thanks anyway. He clutched the cup with both hands, leaning down to it to avoid spilling. The ceramic bottom rattled through the earthquake rocking his world.

“Got some news if you’re interested and up for it.”

Cale risked a glance, wincing at the brightness haloing T-Ray’s partially shaven head. “Maybe.”

A thick forefinger tapped the ink on the back of his hand. ”Ready to put that to the test?”

Alerted by his tone, Cale scooped up his waning attention in both fists and held tight. “Sure.”

“Got rumors of some outside boys from up Memphis way doing a meet and greet tonight. Feel like crashing a party?”

The way his system was crashing? Insanity. But he nodded.

Would his brother James be stupid enough to hook up with the Guedrys right under his nose? Only one way to find out. And he couldn’t do it shivering in his shoes like a Jell-O shot.

“You said you could set me up so I could get even.” The gruff urgency in his voice combined with the way T-Ray looked at him knocked his self-respect to hell.

“Sure. Whatever you need, Mick.”

Three days of sleep beside the woman he loved, an entire buffet he could keep down, and one clear thought was what he needed. Those things impossible, Cale settled for finishing his cloyingly sweet coffee and one of T-Ray’s biscuits, an achievement that at least eased the cramping in his belly.

Roux let him stay in his rented room while he went to find the cure for what ailed him. A cure for the Black-eyed Shakes that only dug the grave deeper. Cale curled into a tight ball on the spring-infested couch, writhing through the waves of withdrawal shredding his insides, running with sweat while freezing at the same time. Sick in body and soul, he was so weak he could barely open his eyes when T-ray knelt beside him to offer a Styrofoam cup.