to call her commanding officer at the precinct, only to be told that he was out investigating a new murder.
She was still at Rome’s house, in his room. He’d gone downstairs—to another meeting, he said. He seemed to have a lot of those. On the desk was a laptop, so she made her way over to turn it on. If she were at home she would have turned on her police scanner to find out what was going on that the top brass wasn’t in the precinct at near ten in the morning.
While she waited for the computer to boot up, she thought about last night. Of all the things she’d discovered and how they made her feel in the light of day. She felt rejuvenated, actually, like a new person in her old body. It was weird and almost too good to be true. But Rome wasn’t angry with her for betraying him, he still wanted her—a fact that thoroughly baffled her. She’d never been wanted before, never felt the completeness of a union of any kind. This morning she was thinking that maybe, just maybe, that was all changing.
Parts of her future were still uncertain—what she was going to do about her job for one. The fact that she hadn’t found anything incriminating against Rome—and not for lack of trying—was enough to raise a few eyebrows. That was one of the reasons she was so desperate to talk to Agent Wilson. The other was to report Ferrell and his strange and unprofessional behavior. Kalina was sure he’d been high on something yesterday when he’d come to see her. And just before Rome had come in, she’d thought she smelled a familiar scent. Which was strange in and of itself; scents weren’t usually what she remembered about people. Eye color, voice tone, a strange birthmark, and even an accent were usually the traits that stuck in her memory. Yet she was almost certain it was Ferrell’s scent that was ringing a bell in her head.
Noises from the laptop jolted her from her thoughts. She moved closer to the desk, fingers hovering over the keyboard in hopes of at least accessing the Internet.
She found the link to the local paper and read today’s headlines.
SAVAGE KILLINGS CONTINUE IN THE DC METRO AREA
She read down farther. The article cited the brutal slayings of Senator Baines and his daughter a few weeks ago. Ralph Kensington was being linked to Baines through their mutual political ties. Yet another murder—this must be the double homicide Reed was talking about the other day—involved two suspected prostitutes, brutally killed in the same vicious manner. What did all these killings mean? The press alleged a serial killer. The police declined comment. Words like Mafia, cartels, drug lords, retaliation, gang recruiting all circulated through the two-page article.
A feeling of dread washed over Kalina. She kept clicking to find more information. The screen blinked furiously with her clicking as her mind seemed to move faster than the speed of the Internet connection. Then she must have hit a wrong button with all her clicking, because the screen went black, then blinked on and off. When it came back on the background was black with white pages. The pages looked like they’d been scanned and had handwriting scrawled over them. Instinctively she began to read:
Joining forces … governing accordingly … accountability … discretion … and finally a name that stuck out as if it were printed in bold block letters, Cortez.
Kalina’s heart pounded as she read further. A lot of the writing she didn’t understand, or rather she couldn’t figure out what the writer was referring to. There were names she didn’t know, only Cortez striking a chord with her. But it sounded like the writer was planning something and that maybe he needed Cortez’s help.
Then a particular passage caught her attention. “My work is so that my son and those after him will know what it means to be a Shadow Shifter and to live freely with dignity among the humans. Roman will one day lead the shifters. The relationships that I form now will assist him. These human men are powerful and will be an asset to our cause.”
The writer was Rome’s father. Rome’s father knew Cortez.
Flipping through her mental database, she pulled up what she knew about Raul Cortez. He was only thirty- five years old, having just come into leadership of his father’s organization. These documents were written when Cortez would have been only eight years old. It didn’t make sense, unless … the writer was talking about Julio Cortez, the father of the Cortez Cartel.
She heard voices in the distance and hurriedly pushed buttons to clear the screen. The computer was still acting wacky, the screen changing colors then going back to the Internet page she’d been searching in the first place. When the voices grew closer, she simply hit ESCAPE and watched as the power died before closing the laptop.
Just as the door opened she stood. Rome walked in with two other men behind him, one his partner from the firm, Nick Delgado. She didn’t know the other man and felt wary because of that fact.
Rome’s gaze found hers. No matter where they were or who else was in the room with them, they found each other instantly. Moving from behind the desk, she tried for a smile but didn’t really know if it worked. Her mind was tossing with all the new information she had and she wasn’t quite sure how to act around Rome and his friends. Were they shifters, too?
“X thought it might be good to go over everything you know about the DEA’s investigation of me and the firm,” Rome said, still staring at her strangely but talking as if nothing was wrong.
She shrugged, not really comfortable telling them all she knew. Even though she didn’t think Rome was guilty, there was definitely a reason he was being investigated. Seeing the name Cortez in that file sealed that deal for her. “I don’t know much really. They just pulled me in, told me to trace the money and find out who he was dealing with.” She wondered if she’d said enough to get herself fired. Technically her job was already on the line if her superiors found out she was telling them anything.
“Who hired you?” the one who looked like a fullback said. He was a few inches taller than Rome with a much thicker build, bald head, and fierce-looking eyes.
“I work for the MPD,” she said straightening her back. No way was she letting them intimidate her.
“But the MPD aren’t the ones looking at us, are they?” This was from Nick, the too-handsome playboy with smiling eyes that held a hint of danger.
“The MPD and the DEA,” she offered. “I should be the one asking why. I mean, here I am trying to do my job and you turn the tables by doing an investigation on me. Who are you people?” she asked and received the pleasure of three intense gazes drilling her at once. She felt like she was displayed for sale—and that really shouldn’t have made her hot.
“Nick and X are shifters, like me,” Rome said.
She swallowed and looked at each man, somehow knowing Rome’s words were true. They were all shifters, a species unlike any she’d ever known or read about. Now the differences were clear. The muscular builds didn’t look gym-made but naturally acquired. And their stance—it was predatory. They were ready for anything, always watching, always waiting. Suddenly Rome’s master suite felt just a little smaller.
“How many of you are here? In the States, I mean?”
“More than you can imagine” was Nick’s reply.
“But we don’t mean anybody any harm,” Rome added, quickly tossing Nick an annoyed glance.
And then as if what they were saying just clicked in her head, Kalina gasped.
“What is it?” Rome asked moving closer to her.
“The murders,” she said slowly. “Brutal murders, now four of them. It’s all over the news.”
Every step she took back he took one forward, coming closer to her until her back hit the wall.
“It’s not us, Kalina. We do not kill.”
“But you did,” she whispered. “That night in the alley you did. You killed that man. They thought I did it. I let them think that because I didn’t want to … to…”
“To what? Admit that you’d seen a man change into a cat? That’s what you saw that night. A man shifting into a cat and that cat protecting the woman that was being hurt. To protect you, Kalina, I’d kill any man or cat. Believe me when I say that.”
Oh, she did believe him. She looked into his eyes, saw the bunch of his shoulders, and knew he was perfectly capable of killing.
“Shadow Shifters do not kill needlessly. We are a peaceful species.”
Nick smirked. “Until you piss us off.”
“Think about it, Kalina,” Rome said, ignoring Nick’s comment and keeping his eyes on her. “Think about who I am, all that I’ve told you, and all that you’ve learned about me. Do you think I’m a killer?”
She didn’t know what to think. Her brain was on information overload and her stomach was twisting and churning at the sight of three live shifters in the room with her. What if they all shifted at this very moment? Would
