Caged, page 5
“We should get going.” Andy rubbed the back of his neck, then forced his arm to his side. “How long do you think it will be before Paul can answer questions?”
I blinked, surprised Andy had cut me off. That wasn’t like him.
Liam’s face darkened, his blue eyes deepening from sky blue to midnight. “He will answer my questions soon. Very soon.”
Andy nodded, then turned on his heel without another word to head for his SUV.
“I’ll ride with Andy,” I told Liam. “See you at—”
Andy’s SUV door slammed shut with enough force that I jumped. Liam jerked his head in the same direction.
“Is he all right?”
“He’s fine.” I brushed my hair behind my ear. “He’s just a little tense. He really wanted Varca as a witness.”
“Tough break. Been there.” Liam turned to head for his own truck. “You can follow me to the center. It’s not far.”
I paused as I remembered an earlier question I hadn’t had a chance to ask. “Liam?”
“Yeah?”
“The center in Wisconsin that May mentioned, the one that provides wolves as service animals?”
“That’s a cover,” Liam confirmed. “It’s a shell company run by the pack in that area. They provide a cover story for shifters who get caught in the suburbs in wolf form. If someone’s neighbor spots a wolf, they’ll backdate and fax over records showing proof of ownership of a wolfdog.”
“Clever.”
He shrugged. “Necessary. Even the careful ones get caught sometimes.”
I nodded absently, then made my way to the passenger side of Andy’s SUV, frowning as I found him glowering in the driver’s seat.
“Is it just me, or is he having a temper tantrum?” Peasblossom asked. “Another temper tantrum?”
“It’s not just you.” I climbed into the SUV and closed my door, deliberately being more gentle than Andy had. He started the car, barely waiting long enough for Liam to pull out before shooting down the driveway after him.
My heart leapt into my throat. I didn’t breathe until Liam pulled onto the road and started off, and Andy slowed to follow him.
“Is something wrong?” I kept my voice even, trying not to let my own irritation show. It was one thing for Andy to be distant because of my month-long silent treatment, but it was time to move on. I’d had no choice. He had to understand that.
“‘Our case.’”
The insinuated quotations around the word were clear. “What?”
Andy didn’t look at me, didn’t take his eyes off the bumper of Liam’s truck—ostensibly so he’d be able to slam on the brakes if Liam slowed down since he was following dangerously close. “‘Our case.’ That’s what Liam said. The case about the fixer. The one you worked when you couldn’t answer your phone when I called, or even text me to tell me what was going on.”
Oh. My fingers found the cool metal of the zipper on the pouch around my waist, and I turned it between my fingers. I’d told Andy about the case, but only the broad strokes. I hadn’t mentioned details.
I hadn’t mentioned Liam.
“So was it just me you were forbidden from talking to?” he asked finally.
I didn’t like the way he’d said “forbidden,” as if I’d exaggerated, and I could have talked to him if I’d wanted to. “Yes,” I said quietly.
Andy nodded, the movement stiff and jerky. The tension between us thickened, scratching my skin like cheap wool. For a second, I felt like I had a week ago when I’d shown up at Andy’s for the first time since Flint’s forced hiatus.
Pressure built inside me. A combination of the urge to snap at Andy, to tell him to get over it because the past month hadn’t been a cake-walk for me either, and frustration because Flint had jeopardized one of the most important relationships in my life. A relationship that hadn’t been easy from the beginning, and had just started to get to the point where I’d have said we were almost friends and not just business partners.
I dropped my head back against the seat. “This is it. This is exactly what he wanted.”
“Who?”
“Flint.” I let out a bitter laugh and waved a hand between us. “This lack of trust. My contract with him may end in nine months, but he’s doing a fine bloody job of making sure the repercussions last a lot longer than that.” I stared out the windshield without seeing anything. “Isolation is the first step. Isolation, and cruelty interspersed with random acts of kindness.”
“Cruelty?”
I couldn’t read his tone enough to say if he was concerned about what might have been done to me, or dubious because he thought I wanted him to think my time with Flint had been as bad for me as for him.
I chose to believe the first one. “He hasn’t laid a hand on me, if that’s what worries you. He just likes to break down my accomplishments, grind them into the dirt and make me believe I haven’t actually done any real good. He turns every success I’ve had into a failure.” My throat constricted. “He’s very good at it.”
“Why would he do that?” Andy shifted in his seat, flexing his grip on the steering wheel. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to try and get you to like him? Isn’t that what he’s known for?”
He didn’t come right out and say he’d thought Flint wanted to get me into bed, but I knew that’s what he meant. Peasblossom poked out from under my hair.
“He knows she won’t sleep with him,” she told Andy. “She hates him. He’s putting down her accomplishments so when he offers to help her, she’ll think she actually needs his help.” Peasblossom patted my shoulder. “Which she doesn’t.”
“Thank you, Peas—”
“Because she has me,” Peasblossom finished.
Andy was silent for a long minute. “So you think he’s isolating you from me to make it easier to break you down and destroy your confidence.”
“To make me rely on him, yes,” I agreed.
“But he isn’t trying to destroy your relationship with Liam. He had no problem with you working with him.”
“Of course not,” Peasblossom scoffed. “Liam is an alpha, leader of his pack. He wants Shade to get close to him quick, so she’ll still be under his control when that relationship means something—”
“Oh, blood and bone,” I whispered.
“What?” Andy demanded.
Horror turned my heart into a block of frozen meat forgotten in the corner of the freezer. “Liam. Peasblossom is right. Flint would want me to get close to Liam. He’d want us as close as possible while I’m still under contract to him so he can try and manipulate Liam and his pack through me. Or spy on them.”
I put a hand on my stomach, trying to calm the bile churning there before it could make an explosive appearance all over the inside of Andy’s SUV. “The contracts. I… I can sign a contract with you before working a case and I don’t have to tell Flint the details, but…” I tried to swallow, but the lump in my throat stopped me. “I don’t have that kind of permission to sign a contract with Liam. And he…”
I couldn’t even finish.
“He doesn’t know about your contract with Flint?” The anger had leached out of Andy’s voice. He sounded more like himself. Calm, analytical. Curious.
I shook my head, staring out the window as if orange construction cones could in any way distract me.
“So sign one of my contracts,” Andy said reasonably. “It’s my case too.”
“No. No, that won’t work.”
“You could make the argument it does.”
“But that won’t matter,” Peasblossom chimed in. “All that matters is that Flint can make the argument that it doesn’t. He’s the master, he wins all ties.”
“I’m going to throw up.” I let my head fall against the cool glass of my window.
Andy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and I didn’t know if it was my emotions or the possibility that I might vomit in his vehicle that bothered him.
I groped for my cell phone, texting Flint with trembling fingers.
“What are you doing?” Andy asked.
“Asking Flint for permission to use your contract for this case.” I hit the send button and stared at my phone, my heart in my throat. “If he says no, then I need to go home now and get as far way from Liam and this case as possible. His sister is involved, there’s no way…” I shook my head. “If Flint forbids me to tell Liam about our contract, I need you to do it for me.”
“You want me to tell him now?”
Andy nodded up ahead to where Liam had pulled into the parking lot of a brick building. A sign nestled amidst a bed of flowers out front read “New Moon Recovery Center.”
“No,” I rasped. “No, I’ll tell him if I can. But if I can’t, then you have to do it.”
My phone beeped. I gritted my teeth and glanced down at the sidhe’s response. My stomach rolled.
“He said no?” Andy guessed.
“He said yes,” Peasblossom corrected him, peering down at my phone.
We shared a look.
Andy stole a glance out of the corner of his eye as he followed Liam’s truck around the back to a private parking area. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“He just said ‘yes,’” Peasblossom explained. “No dancing around it, no trying to be tricky.”
“You think it’s too easy.”
“Too easy,” I agreed quietly.
We drove through the shadows cast by a line of small trees that lined the parking lot, and my phone’s screen danced with the reflection.
“Are you going to tell Liam about your contract?” Andy asked.
“I think I have to.” Another wave of nausea washed over me. I didn’t want to have this conversation. It was bad enough Andy knew about the contract, knew I was a slave to the infuriating Flint Valencia, leannan sidhe and seductive fey bad boy. Telling Liam would be worse. He’d have the same questions as Andy, the same suspicions about what Flint wanted me to do. Directions he may or may not take with our relationship while he could. For some reason it bothered me even more, the thought of Liam having those questions. Those thoughts.
“Do you think it will make that big of a difference?” Andy’s voice was softer now. Almost sympathetic. “You’ve worked with him a couple times, he must trust you to work with you again.”
I leaned back in my seat, trying to force myself to relax. “Actually, our relationship is somewhat…tenuous.”
“How so?”
“She keeps leaning on him and he wants to know why, but she doesn’t know so she can’t tell him. So he doesn’t know if she’s flirting with him or doing bad witch stuff,” Peasblossom explained helpfully.
Andy pulled into a parking spot beside Liam’s truck. “You…lean on him.”
I shifted, cursing the heat I knew was painting my cheeks pink. “I have a weird reaction to shifters. Not all shifters. Mostly Liam, but I’ve felt it with other shifters too.” I laughed, a short burst of sound absent of any humor.
Andy glanced at me, a furrow pinching the skin between his brows. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, I was just thinking of Mother Hazel and how she must be somewhere smiling right now.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because this is what she was always trying to tell me. This is why she said I wasn’t cut out for this.” I glared out the window. “I could have stayed a village witch. Been my own boss, gotten respect by virtue of being me.” I snorted. “But no. I chose to be a PI. I work with you, and Liam, both of you authorities in your field who outrank me in almost every way that’s relevant to the job.”
I slumped in my seat. “I saw an opportunity to help people. People who didn’t even know they needed help. But this work isn’t just about saving innocents and punishing bad guys. It’s about maintaining the professional relationships that make it possible to help people. Following rules, written and not, and making choices that can seem right at one time and wrong at another, and being responsible for all of those choices no matter what.”
Andy took the keys out of the ignition. He sat there for a moment, staring at the steering wheel. Finally, he looked at me. “Crime is black and white only to the people looking at it from the outside. There will always be hard choices. Times when you look back and wonder if you did the right thing. If you could have made a different choice, gotten a different outcome. That’s normal. And if you ever realize that the choices aren’t hard anymore, that you always know what the right thing to do is? Quit. Quit and do something else. Because a black and white point of view is the fastest road to Hell in this business.”
I looked at him, and he met my eyes, held them without flinching. There was no anger there anymore. He didn’t look happy, and he was holding his keys so tight his knuckles blanched, but he wasn’t angry.
“I don’t know if that was comforting or not,” I said finally.
“Good.” He hesitated, then added, “Be a person that deserves trust, and demand the trust you deserve.”
Before I could respond to that, he got out of the SUV and closed the door behind him.
“So is he still mad or not?” Peasblossom demanded. “That was a weird speech. Wasn’t it? A weird speech?”
I sighed and got out of the SUV. “I don’t know.”
“I think it was a weird speech,” she muttered.
Liam stood impatiently at the front door to the massive building constructed from solid red brick and broad windows. It was only four stories high, but given the fact that it was a center for werewolves, I suspected the strongest point of the facility was its location across the street from the Rocky River Reservation and its vast expanse of wooded werewolf bliss.
“You need to come inside with me so I can get you a badge at security,” Liam said as soon as we were close enough to hear him. “This isn’t a prison, but it is a secure facility. No one can just walk in or out without clearance.”
“So how exactly does your process work here?” Andy asked.
Liam held the door open. “After a shifter is brought here or comes here of their own volition, they’re assessed by one of our therapists to determine if they pose a danger to themselves or others. If they’re determined not to be a threat, then they live here in a sort of assisted living facility style, acclimating to being around other shifters, learning protocol and the hierarchy, stuff like that, until they’re ready to be assigned to a permanent pack. If they are a threat, they’re assigned a supervisor. Their supervisor will help them strengthen their control, and if needed, they’ll arrange protection.”
“So for new wolves, that means someone is with them to help them handle surges in emotion and stays with them through the change until they can keep their head after the transformation,” I said.
“Exactly.”
“Keep their head?” Andy asked.
“Shifters maintain their human faculties when they shift,” I explained. “But it’s a skill that has to be practiced. The change is chaotic for new wolves, and it can be hard to think straight in the immediate aftermath. That’s when things can get…dicey.”
“Dicey as in they kill people,” Andy clarified.
Liam stopped walking abruptly and turned to face Andy. “This will go smoother if you don’t assume shifters kill a lot of people,” he said flatly.
Andy’s facial expression didn’t betray any emotion, but I didn’t miss the way he smoothed a hand down the lower half of his jacket, checked the cuffs on his shirt. Testing his armor. “Someone bit Paul and turned him, apparently against his will. You said your clientele includes people who were turned during an attack. It sounds like it happens with some frequency.”
“We do our best, Agent Bradford,” Liam said in a low voice.
“And what does that involve?” Andy pressed. “What do you do to try to prevent werewolves from biting humans, turning them?”
“The same think you do to keep humans from attacking one another,” Liam said shortly. “We make it clear it’s against the law, and we punish it when it happens.”
Andy considered that, then nodded. “I meant no offense. I’m trying to understand what happened today.”
Liam turned. “That’s what we’re here to find out.”
Immediately beyond the front entrance there was a long desk on either side of the room, and a small passage between them. The desk on the left had a sign overhead that read “Check-in” and the right was labeled “Security.” The passage between was sandwiched between two pillars with a security scanner on the right for visitors to scan their badges as they entered.
We approached the check-in, and Liam spoke about security badges to an androgynous individual wearing a plain white collared shirt and black slacks. The shifter turned light brown eyes on me and Andy, taking us both in as they retrieved the necessary paperwork and placed it on the counter in front of us.
“Hi, Sam,” I said, reading their name tag.
“Hello, Ms. Renard. Agent Bradford. Please fill in the top box and sign at the bottom, then stand behind that piece of tape and look here—” they pointed to a camera mounted on top of a computer monitor—“and smile. Or don’t, it’s up to you.”
Andy and I both did as instructed. As I stood there waiting for the person to take my picture, I felt the unmistakable prickle of someone staring at me. I held my smile in place until Sam nodded, then shuffled to the side to lean around the check-in desk to peer into the facility.
The room beyond the gate was huge, with a square of broad-leafed plants in the center of the room, and a line of chairs directly across. A man sat in one of the chairs barely visible behind the plants, and it took me a minute to realize who it was.
Edwin’s smooth brown skin accented the pale slash of white scar tissue running from the center of his forehead to the middle of his left cheek, crossing the corner of his eye near his nose. The last time I’d seen him, that scar tissue had been studded with sharp bits of silver shrapnel. His eye was still milky and clouded, but Liam was right. Edwin looked a hundred times better now, and a weight slid off my shoulders as I felt new hope for Scath and her iron-inflicted injuries.
The black werewolf wore a pair of dark grey sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt, the epitome of casual. And yet, there was something about his body language that made him seem anything but relaxed. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d have sworn he was doing reconnaissance.
