code.”
“Did you break it?”
“You know he did,” Nick said, coming from the kitchen with a bottled beer in one hand. “There’s not a code in this world X can’t break. Which is truly baffling considering how little attention he paid in school.”
X didn’t even spare Nick a glance. It was old banter between the two. Nick had been a straight-A student, Rome following right behind him with only a few B’s sprinkled in for good measure. X, on the other hand, had never liked going to school, hated the confinement of the classrooms and stern teachers in their private school as well. It still amazed Rome that he’d entered law enforcement, landing solidly in the FBI, and seemed to enjoy it.
“I did, but I thought you’d like to be the first to go over the information. It looks like more journal entries from your father. I didn’t feel right reading them before you.” X moved to a wall that surprisingly held three photographs, black-and-whites of the mountains and oceans. They were crisp and simple, just like everything else in the apartment. But they were the only pieces that looked like they held some personal link to the man who lived here. Rome didn’t bother to ask X why. Each of them—the three shifters who had long ago forged an unbreakable bond—had secrets and demons. The best part of their relationship was that they knew when to leave well enough alone; they didn’t push one another, asking for answers the others couldn’t or weren’t willing to give. They simply accepted who they were and lived their lives accordingly. Not many could do that, especially not with the pasts they all shared.
Behind the middle portrait, the one with the huge plume of smoke spewing from a mountaintop, was a wall safe. X’s large fingers moved nimbly over the dial until there was a clicking sound and the door popped open. Reaching inside, he retrieved the disk and handed it to Rome.
For quiet seconds Rome just held it. Then he spoke. “Baxter said my father kept lots of journals. He had them all over the house, each pertaining to a different subject. His work at the corporation, his thoughts on the forest, his childhood. Whatever was in his mind he put into words on paper.” Looking down at the disk, he felt that a piece of his father was here, right in this room with them.
“This may give us more insight into what was going on with the meetings they were having,” X said, moving to the fully stocked bar in the corner.
Nick swallowed a swig of beer. “We already know what the meetings were about. They wanted to create some type of democracy, a government for shifters here in the States.”
“A judicial system,” Rome added.
Nick frowned, looking as if the paint on the walls held more appeal. “A system that wasn’t going to work because Rogues don’t give a shit about being democratic.” It was no secret that while Nick was all about helping Rome find the killers, he didn’t agree with what his parents as well as Rome’s were fighting for. Nick knew they were a separate species; he’d grown up experiencing that separation in one way or another so he’d never forget it. And he’d never feel easy about trying to mix with the humans.
“We have to start thinking along those lines, Nick,” Rome said, already knowing where this conversation would lead. But it didn’t matter. He was Faction Leader and it was up to him and the other FLs to come up with ways the shifters could better co-exist in this land. In the jungle it was fine for the tribes to hide, to take shelter beneath the thick canopy of the rain forest. But here, in the city, it didn’t make sense. If they wanted to live here, to build families and businesses, to prosper in this place, they needed to stand together. They weren’t fully human and they weren’t fully animal. They were different so it stood to reason that they needed a different type of government to protect their secret and ensure continuance of the race.
“I believe in creating our own government here, a hierarchy that will hear the differences and hopefully work them out without us fighting on the streets like animals.”
Nick chuckled. “Look around, Rome. We’re not the only ones fighting in the streets. These so-called humans are killing one another without any help or instigation from us. They’ve been shooting and fighting and dying on these streets long before we showed up.”
“But not by our kind. I know we can’t change their world, their ways, or their government. But we can monitor our own.”
“That’s naive,” Nick countered, finishing his beer and putting the bottle on the giant slab of marble that served as a coffee table.
“You sound like the Rogues,” X said quietly, rubbing a hand down the back of his bald head. “They don’t think we can act like anything but animals, either.”
The last of Nick’s semblance of control broke. It was a war within him. One side told him every day that they were different, tainted somehow. And the other—the one Rome and the other stateside shifters wanted him to see—insisted that even with their differences they could co-exist peacefully. It always saddened Rome to see his friend in this fight.
Nick stood quickly, glaring down at X as if he were ready to fight him. “Don’t fucking compare me to those pussies!”
X didn’t bother to stand but glared right back at Nick. “Then stop acting like a victim like them. Yeah, we’re a different species, so what? It’s time we move past that and make our mark on our own.”
Tempers were rising—well, Nick’s was. X was easily bated even though he and Nick had experienced their share of disagreements in the past. Rome, as always, was the peacekeeper.
“Nick will be fine. He knows this is the way to go, it’s just his nature to be rebellious.” Rome prayed that was the truth.
“I need another beer,” Nick murmured and stalked out.
“He’s getting edgier about this by the minute,” X said when they were alone.
Rome nodded. “I know. The appearance of the Rogues isn’t making it any better. He’s ready to kill first and ask questions later.”
X shrugged. “It’s our nature, Rome. I’m all for the government thing but we can’t deny our animalistic heritage forever.”
Rome knew that better than anyone. The slow prowling of his cat pressing against his human mind with daily persistence was proof. “I know. But there’s a way to contain it when possible. I don’t know that we’ll always be able to deal with the Rogues this way, but we have to at least start thinking along those lines.” He held the disk up. “Maybe there’s some strategies on here we can use.”
“Strategies? I thought we wanted clues to finding the killers. You still don’t remember anything else about that night?” X asked.
“We … I do,” he sighed. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, X.”
“I know. And you know we’ve got your back however you want to play this.”
“I want them dead.”
X nodded. “As soon as we find them,” he said solemnly.
And after they were dead, then what? A distant voice echoed in Rome’s mind, making him think about the answer.
Taking a seat on the couch, Rome let the disk rest on his thigh, closing then reopening his eyes. “I can hear the sounds, feel the tightness of the closet walls around me. And then I can scent them. All of them. My parents, Baxter, the killers.”
“So you’d remember if you scented them again?”
“Definitely.”
X was the one to nod this time. “Then it’s time we start lining up some suspects.”
“Yeah.” Rome glanced down at the disk again. “I believe you’re right.”
Kalina never thought she’d be happy to feel the slap of sticky humid air upon her cheeks, but as she stepped out of her car and began walking along the parking lot leading to the back entrance of the MPD, that’s exactly what she felt. She hadn’t even bothered to ask how her car had come to be parked in front of her building this afternoon when she’d come out. It hadn’t been there last night. But she was sure it had arrived in the same manner as Roman Reynolds had with his breaking-and-entering, bossy-and-controlling self.
Mrs. Gilbert had stayed in her apartment after Rome left. She’d stayed about fifteen minutes past her usual quota of five minutes standing in the hallway, with that god-awful cat glaring and growling at Kalina. Normally Kalina’s heart pounded the entire time she was in the vicinity of Ms. Kitty. Today she’d been so ticked off at Rome,
