Alpha Undercover, page 3
Gage left the engine idling and she was glad.
“You ready?” she asked.
“I’m always ready,” he said and she didn’t doubt him.
As the dust cleared around them, she spotted another car approaching from the opposite direction. It was the first sign of traffic they’d seen in hours, but it wasn’t comforting. When the black sedan with dark windows pulled up in front of them, nose to nose, Angie steeled herself against the glint of the late-afternoon sun.
“Show time,” she said, grabbing the metal case she’d tucked beside her seat this morning.
Gage merely grunted as they got out. She caught sight of the gun tucked against his back, stuck inside the waistband of his cargo pants, and it comforted her. He’d refused to wear a holster harness in case it got in the way of his shifting—if it came to that. She hoped like hell that it didn’t. Her own weapon was tucked inside her boot. She prayed she didn’t need that either. She hated guns.
Gage stood beside her, almost shoulder to shoulder, at the hood of the truck. Silent and stoic. She felt her heart thudding in her chest and let her leopard rise to the surface, enhancing her senses. As she waited, the sedan’s back passenger door opened and a man climbed out. He was tall and lean, dressed in a brown suit and cowboy hat to match. Shep, they called him. She didn’t know his last name. She didn’t want to.
“Well, if it isn’t the heiress herself,” the man said, smiling as he approached.
Angie showed her teeth, but it wasn’t exactly friendly. Gage stayed right beside her the entire time, silent and coiled. “Shep,” she said flatly.
“You’re looking radiant,” Shep said, tipping his hat.
Angie rolled her eyes. Shep fancied himself a cowboy, but when they’d formed this partnership Angie’s dad had looked into the man. All of their contacts said he was from Toledo.
“Must be the dry air,” she said, already tired of the small talk.
Another man got out of Shep’s car. This one wore jeans and a belt buckle the size of a dinner plate. His boots were still stiff. All for show, Angie thought with a shake of her head. But the sight of a second and then third man joining their party made her pulse thump harder. She’d only ever done two handoffs like this before but both times it was just Shep. The rest of his guys either stayed home or at least stayed in the car.
“I don’t have time for a party,” Angie said, one brow raised as the two wannabe cowboys came to stand behind Shep.
“Just here for the fresh air,” Shep assured her but the faux twang in his words only put her more on edge. “You have it?”
Angie nodded. With a swooping gesture, she laid the briefcase on the hood of the truck and opened it, revealing four long, neat rows of silver bullets secured in felt loops.
“One case of Silverado,” Angie said as Shep leaned in to inspect. He brushed his shoulder along her arm and she stiffened, forcing herself not to react. Jackwad.
She was so sick of this life. Of the things her father made her do.
Justice, she told herself. She would get it for Vincent and then for herself.
“Satisfactory?” she prompted as Shep finally backed away and she shut the case.
“As usual,” Shep said, taking out a cigar and placing it, unlit, between his lips. “Spearfish won’t know what hit ’em when ol’ Silverado shows up.” Shep said, clucking his tongue. “You know, your father has a real gold mine on his hands with these babies. With my connections, he really could have a national business on his hands. Hell, we could franchise the Cattaneo name and really set you up solid.”
“We’ve been down this road, Shep,” she reminded him, a sharp edge to her words. She was sore and irritated at having to drive all the way out here to the edge of Montana. Shep’s words only made it worse. “You’re preaching to the wrong Cattaneo. Besides, Dad already turned you down.”
“Which makes me think maybe I wasn’t talking to the right Cattaneo. Maybe the heiress can see reason and opportunity where her old man can’t.” Shep winked and Angie sighed.
“Look, our operation only works if it’s small-time. We don’t have the supplies or resources to mass-distribute Silverado right now.” Thank God. “Maybe someday,” she added purely for his benefit.
Shep’s demeanor changed. “Well, now, therein lies the problem, doesn’t it?” he drawled.
Angie’s leopard tensed. Beside her, Gage did the same. “What are you talking about?” she asked.
“I was hoping my ideas would change your mind or reassure me that there’s plenty more where this came from.”
“Well, there isn’t,” she snapped, beyond ready to end this meeting.
“That’s a damn shame,” Shep said, drawling the words much longer than was realistic.
The men with Shep hadn’t moved an inch but there was something more tense about them now. Maybe it was precisely because they weren’t moving. Almost as if they were waiting—
“Limited supply does create something you didn’t foresee,” Shep added, producing a gun from inside his jacket and aiming it at Gage. “Hand me that case. No sudden moves, either one of you.”
Angie’s stomach dropped to her knees. She whipped around to look at Gage with wide eyes, heart thumping. Even as she debated how to respond, her cat took over. It rose up, shoving any logic or humanity aside. It wanted only to kill. To protect. Not just the product but the man standing beside her. Angie’s leopard snarled, a strangled sound tumbling from her throat even as she fell to the ground and shifted.
Vaguely, Angie was aware of Shep adjusting his aim toward her as she straightened on all fours. But her leopard wasn’t stopping for anything. Least of all a silly gun. She lunged at Shep, closing the distance between them easily, and clamped her teeth into his flesh wherever she could find purchase. Shep screamed.
Behind Angie, Gage yelled something.
Angie focused on staying on top of Shep and keeping hold of his arm where her teeth had sunk in. Blood poured into her mouth from the wounds she’d given him. The gun slid loosely from his hand and Angie felt the satisfied crunch of bone as his arm broke under the pressure of her jaw.
“Angel, get back!” Gage’s voice was urgent enough to make Angie pause. Her leopard’s ears pricked and she let go long enough to turn. She wondered why he was still on two legs. “Come here,” Gage insisted, reaching for her.
As soon as he said it, both of Shep’s men back near the car whipped their jackets aside and withdrew a gun from a side holster.
“Easy, there, feline,” one of them said over the sound of Shep’s pain-filled moaning.
One of the men reached to help his boss up. The other leveled his gun on Angie. Muscles coiled and bunched, ready to lunge at him, but Gage called her back.
“Get to the truck,” Gage said.
Her indecision paralyzed her a second too long, and one of the men fired.
Angie was driven back, wincing at a stinging along her left hip. The stinging turned to a burn and then faded. Grazed, she realized. She was fine. By the time she hit the ground, she had already found her balance again thanks to four paws and a white-hot temper. Whoever had just shot her was going to seriously regret getting out of bed today.
CHAPTER FOUR
Gage howled, half-man, half-wolf at the sight of Angie being driven to the ground by a bullet. He could only pray it wasn’t one of these Silverados. With shifter healing, she had a fighting chance against regular ammo. Silverado was a different story.
But he couldn’t wait to find out.
The asshole-poser named Shep got to his feet and then dove for the case, hugging it to his chest. Before Gage could retrieve it, another shot rang out. Gage felt a sting along the tip of his ear but he kept moving, scrambling for Angie and the truck.
If he were alone, he’d stay and fight. But with Angie here, he only thought of her. His wolf, while it agreed with the logic, was another story.
Gage just barely managed to hang on to his human form as he corralled Angie into the truck and scrambled up after her. He did his best to stay out of her way, not easy when faced with a giant, furious leopard. Sharp nails sliced through his shirt and along his back as he crawled across the bench seat, huddling behind the wheel. Angie snarled and mewled, clawing at the closed truck door. The scratches she’d left for him burned but he ignored it. All that mattered was getting them out. Getting her to safety.
Outside, Shep was running for his own car, the stolen metal case clutched against his chest. His boys still had guns aimed but they’d stopped firing, contenting themselves with aimed guns that threatened gunfire if Gage came closer. He had no intentions of that. At least, not today.
Gage grabbed the shifter, wrenched it into reverse, and slammed his foot on the gas. The truck lurched backward, tires kicking up dust. Gage kept his foot on the gas even as he shifted, jerking the wheel sharply so that the tires squealed as they met pavement.
They fishtailed out of the lot, the nose of the truck aimed for home. It wasn’t until Shep’s car had disappeared from Gage’s rearview that he slowed and looked over at Angie. She had her nose pressed to the glass of the back windshield. Her cream-colored coat stood on end as did her ears. She met his eyes, her lips pulled back to reveal a snarl of sharp teeth.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, still breathing heavily. The scratches on his arms and shoulders still burned, along with his ear. Blood dripped slowly but steadily onto his shirt but he didn’t give a shit. All of it was manageable and would heal soon. None of it mattered if she was hit.
He stared at Angie, searching her furry body. She went back to staring out the back window. He assumed it meant she was fine, but still, he kept glancing over to check for signs of injury. But there was no blood or anything else marring her coat.
They drove on and Gage held his breath, checking the rearview for signs they’d been followed, but there was nothing. Dusk fell and still, they were alone on the highway.
“You can shift back,” he said when it was clear the danger had passed.
But Angie remained sprawled on the seat, her paws tucked underneath her, and stared up at him with yellow eyes. He pulled over and got out, rummaging through the tool box he had mounted to the back of his truck. A moment later, he got back in and tossed a blanket over her. “Now you can shift back,” he said.
He tried not to look as she did.
When he checked again, she was sitting up with the blanket wrapped around her. As he watched, she exhaled and her shoulders relaxed as she tipped her head back against the seat. But it wasn’t relief, he could sense that from here. Silently, a single tear fell down her cheek. Still, she didn’t move or look at him.
“This is why your father didn’t want to come himself,” Gage said, realizing even as he said it aloud that she wouldn’t answer him.
He drove on, fuming that her old man had, yet again, thrown her into a situation he knew was going to turn south. Injure her. Possibly get her killed.
“Are you hurt?” he asked her again. She shook her head but despite the answer, another tear fell after the first. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.
He wanted to pull over and wrap her in his arms, to pull her into his lap and let her cry. To kiss it all away. When she’d gone down…
But her leopard had healed her. Even the bruises looked better now. That was good. It was real good. He needed to stay focused. She’d made it clear earlier that she didn’t want anything more than business. Or she did, but she wasn’t willing to go there.
Business. Shit.
They’d left without the product or payment. Cattaneo was going to be pissed. But Gage wasn’t concerned with that. It was clear to him now that this job was going to require more than just his mercenary skills. If he was going to get through this—get them both through this—he was going to need patience. Self-control. And a lot of other things he hadn’t bargained for. Shit, if he was being honest, this job was already requiring a hell of a lot more than he’d thought. It had already stolen his heart.
CHAPTER FIVE
Gage stared back at his old friend with a heated glare. “You did hear the part where I said he used his own daughter as bait, right?”
Flint Williams, Gage’s partner on past missions and also recently discharged from the military, nodded, his expression hard. “I’m not saying I condone it, man, relax. I’m just saying watch your back. Just because she played a victim for you doesn’t mean she is one. She’s his daughter, man.”
Gage bared his teeth and grunted vaguely. Mostly because Flint was right. Not about being a victim. Angie had been a fucking ninja at that gunfight yesterday. He was jealous that she’d shifted and managed to get her teeth into Shep. But one of them had needed to drive them out of there.
But on this… Flint was one of the best in the field—although, he’d never been on any official payrolls in this government or any other. Flint wasn’t exactly known for his loyalty. Well, not to anyone except for Gage. But he did have a knack for telling it like it was—without sugarcoating it.
Which was exactly what he was doing now. Angie couldn’t exactly be trusted. But dammit, her own father had put her in the line of fire. It was all he could do to keep from ripping Cattaneo’s throat out for letting yesterday happen. Worse, for expecting it to happen and sending her anyway. What kind of father did that?
“I’ve seen some shit in my time, but this… I don’t know how long I can keep from ripping the guy’s guts out,” Gage grumbled. And what he couldn’t bring himself to explain was that it reminded him too much of the treatment he’d seen of women overseas. Violence, assault, dismissal, in every corner of the world he’d been to. Seeing it here, though, in America—in a shifter town, no less—somehow made it worse.
Flint had seen the same things—and not just in the line of duty—and Gage knew his friend could understand this better than anyone. Still, he’d called Flint in to be a voice of reason. The guy was logical to the point of cold sometimes. And that’s what Gage needed now. A damned bucket of ice water on this raging fire Angie had lit inside him. It was making him blind to everything else. Including the mission at hand.
“Look, I did some recon of my own yesterday while you were out playing babysitter. She’s no innocent,” Flint said, lip curling in a way that put Gage’s back up.
Although this was their first face to face, Flint had already been in town a couple of days. His information had been helpful so far. But Gage wasn’t in the mood for gossip, especially about Angie. In fact, it made his stomach knot that Flint might have insider knowledge about her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gage growled.
“Just that she’s been seen around with a lot of different men—all of them employees of the family, but still… We can’t trust her. Not yet.”
Gage snarled, balling his fists. His wolf rose up, tempting him to tear into his friend just to release some of the tension. His wounds from Angie’s panicked leopard had already healed. Flint’s cabin was in the middle of nowhere, halfway up the mountain. No one would hear them if they did go at it and it might help blow off some steam. Flint was good for it, he knew. They’d wrestled enough times overseas.
But Gage knew it wouldn’t help. Not this time. This job had caught him by surprise, becoming personal before he could stop it. And now, the only thing that would make him feel better was Angie. Having her. Bedding her. Making her moan. And even more than that, knowing he could trust her when it was over. But all of his experience suggested that neither of those things were a likely outcome.
He took a step back, then another, then stalked to the far side of the cabin’s small living room and leaned against the wood-planked wall, arms folded.
“I’ll be the judge of Angie Cattaneo,” he said simply.
Flint didn’t argue. He also didn’t move a muscle as he watched his friend from across the room. Both men were wound up. Gage needed some air. He was suddenly glad he’d left his truck at home. He wanted a long run home. His wolf needed it.
“Well, either way, you’re in and that’s a big hurdle,” Flint said finally.
“I think leaving my military record in place helped.” Gage leaned his head back on the wall, mind wandering to all the different nuts and bolts they knew of so far. “It also helps explain you if you’re spotted.”
“I won’t be,” Flint said with a note of confidence Gage couldn’t argue with. The man was good. Maybe even better than him. At least when it came to blending.
“If I’m in, we can’t risk meeting out here again until we’re done,” Gage put in.
Flint nodded. “He’ll be watching you more closely now. They all will. Yesterday could work in your favor. Prove your loyalty. Have you spoken to Cattaneo since then?”
“Briefly when I dropped Angie off. He was pissed about losing the merchandise but I think he understood it was his own fault for not preparing me. Next time, he’ll arm me better. Let me in more.” He’d barely heard Cattaneo’s raging at him last night when they’d gotten back. He’d been too preoccupied with Angie. The way she’d closed up on him as they drove home and the way her father had ignored her without so much as asking if she was okay, too wrapped up in the fact that he’d lost his product.
“Hopefully you’ll get closer soon, Flint said with a shake of his head. He took a long swig of his beer and Gage straightened, instantly alerted to whatever his friend wasn’t telling him.
“Did something else happen?”
“I thought you would have heard. But I guess being out all day… Someone shot a hole in the window of the mayor’s building.”
“Did it hit anybody?” Gage asked.
“No. But the report says it was a silver bullet,” Flint said. “A possible ID on Cattaneo’s bodyguard as the shooter.”
