So what if he was at work? He’d been here since six this morning, with a sour attitude. It didn’t matter because so far the only person he’d taken his bad mood out on had been the guy at the coffeehouse on the corner who had gotten his order wrong a record number of three times and had the audacity to catch an attitude with Nick when he called him on it and demanded his money back.
It was now just about closing time and he wasn’t particularly looking forward to going home alone. He was sitting back in his office chair with one hand on his black address book and the other rubbing along his chin as he considered what type of company he was in the mood for tonight.
There was a knock on his door, an almost silent one that he probably would have missed if he didn’t have the heightened senses of a shifter.
“Come in,” he said wearily, hoping that whoever it was would state their business and get out in the quickest amount of time possible.
“Hi, Mr. Delgado. I just have a few letters that need to go out today, and Mr. Reynolds hasn’t been in. I figured I’d bring them to you to sign.”
Rome’s assistant, Melanie something or other, came right in, bringing the letters up to his desk and dropping them down in front of him all while she spoke in that quick, efficient manner of hers.
Nick didn’t even blink, just picked up his pen and began looking over the letters before signing.
“Mr. Reynolds wasn’t in the office today,” she said again. “I would usually have all the mail signed and out by now, but when he called this morning to say he wasn’t coming in I had some appointments of his to reschedule and some other things to handle first. It’s so unlike him to not come in, especially when he has things on his calendar.”
How Rome put up with this woman’s monologues Nick had no idea. He’d run screaming from the office every day if he had to listen to her ramble on and on like this. “Did you get everything rescheduled all right?” he asked, because he sensed she expected him to say something sooner or later.
“I did. Except Mr. Gwynn wasn’t happy about moving this afternoon’s deposition.”
“Gwynn. That’s the product liability lawsuit, right?”
“Yes, it is. And if you ask me he knew that glue wasn’t meant to hold tempered glass together. That poor little boy who fell through the window suffered so much.”
“Mr. Gwynn’s our client, Melanie,” Nick said slowly, moving on to another letter.
“Yes, I know and believe me I’m thankful for all our clients because without them I wouldn’t have a job. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t put a faulty product into those new houses and didn’t expect that those poor buyers would have problems at some point. The entire construction company should be sued if you ask me.”
Nick shook his head. “I’m glad the plaintiffs aren’t asking you.”
“Anyway, you know who else was out today? Kalina Harper.” The assistant stopped then, letting the question and anticipated follow-up answer linger in the air.
The implication was not lost on Nick.
“I was with her over the weekend, but she left my place so fast and without a word. I’ve tried calling her, but I don’t get an answer. I’m kind of worried.”
Rome had been in the office this morning and had left. He’d called Nick sounding a bit off, saying he had some things outside the office to take care of. Nick assumed he was still haunted by Elder Alamar’s words from earlier that morning. As for Kalina, as far as Nick knew she was still at Rome’s house. Now that Melanie was asking about them both, Nick had to wonder why.
She was clearly fishing for information. But what Nick found really interesting was that she’d mentioned being with Kalina over the weekend. He hadn’t known the two were friends. It shouldn’t matter to him who the woman saw on the weekends, but if this woman was Rome’s mate, then it was up to Nick to be apprised of everything she did and who she did it with.
“Really? You and Ms. Harper spend a lot of time together?” he asked, looking up at her. She was a pretty enough woman with shoulder-length red hair and green eyes. Her smile was always ready and she was very efficient according to Rome, but she was definitely looking for some information from Nick. He just hadn’t figured out what yet.
Melanie shrugged. “She’s new, just thought I’d show her around a bit. Anyway, she left my place without saying a word so I was surprised not to see her this morning. And I keep calling her and calling her.”
Nick nodded as he finished signing the letters and handed them to Melanie. “I’m sure she’s just fine.”
She took the letters from his hand but continued to stand there staring at him. “You’re sure?” she asked.
Nick looked her right in those sea-green eyes. “I’m sure.”
Later, after he’d received an urgent text message from X to meet him at Rome’s place, Nick would think the entire exchange with Melanie was beyond strange and not coincidental. By then it would be too late.
He braced himself, held his shoulders squared in the fading sunlight of the afternoon. Rome left his suit jacket in the car as he walked through the solemn cemetery. Their burial plots were near the east entrance, right beside a biblical statue and a running fountain. The plots were just a front; his parents’ bodies were not here. The Etica prevented formal burials, allowing only cremation for their kind.
It was peaceful here, the last resting place of loved ones. Even the birds above flew by in silence. Cars didn’t seem to drive as fast when they passed the cemetery; the air around the entire place felt still.
But Rome heard thumping. It was loud and echoed with every footstep he took. Now that he was standing still the sound reverberated off every headstone in the vicinity. He didn’t read the names, never read them as he walked through. He didn’t know them and they didn’t know him.
Only these two he knew.
He loved.
One three-foot-high stone marked the final resting place of Vance and Loren Reynolds. Just above the names was the tribal insignia of the Topetenia—a paw print with claws that dripped into a swirling circular collage. He saw that insignia every day—it hung in brass form in Rome’s study. Looking at it made him straighten further, a sign of respect, allegiance to his lineage.
But as his gaze dropped to the names, rested on his father’s, that allegiance wavered.
His father was a traitor. Rome still couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to begin to accept that the man he’d loved and respected had told their secret to a human. The journal entries on that disk outlined meetings, some here in DC, others across the States. He’d been meeting with a man who was promising to help regulate the shifters, to bring them into the fold with the human world.
His father had always wanted them to blend in, to be accepted among the humans. Rome, on the other hand, knew their differences and didn’t argue them. He didn’t flaunt them or begrudge the humans his personal DNA, but he knew that his kind would never be considered equal. That’s why it was so imperative to govern themselves.
Vance thought differently. With the Rogues beginning their rebellion and the Assembly uncertain of what should be done, Vance had turned to someone he trusted, someone he thought could help.
Now it was up to Rome to find out if that trust was in vain. Everything inside him said it was. In the last days of his father’s life he’d transferred large sums of money to an account in Cartagena. That account had long since been closed, but Bingham had finally given him a name—Raul Cortez.
Rome’s chest constricted as he slipped his hands into his pockets. Words floated through his mind, questions he wanted answers to but from a man who could never provide them. He’d driven for hours after he’d left his office via the same secret exit he’d sent Kalina through.
Rome remembered this morning with a warmth through his body. He remembered her scent, her touch, her eyes. His forehead furrowed as he struggled with what was and what he didn’t want to be.
Kalina was a shifter, and if this morning was any indication she was entering her acordado. In the next few days everything about her would change. Her senses would develop and magnify; her eyesight would sharpen, with night vision becoming acute; she would hear things from blocks away, scent lies as easily as she scented enemies. Her body would ripen, craving the touch of a male. Her scent would permeate the air, enticing any male in her proximity. His body hardened with the thought, while his mind warred with what all this meant for him.
It meant Alamar had been right. She was his companheiro. His mate.
His responsibility.
