Authors: C.J. Barry
Body Thief (8 page)
He caught himself and stopped. At least Ernest would be proud of him. Griffin took a big swig of tequila and refocused on the Shifter shadow around her body. It wafted with every movement, sometimes preceding her actions, sometimes trailing, but always there as a reminder that she wasn’t human.
Cam slid one knee up on the stool and leaned far over the island, her expression serious and intense. “You can’t allow Shifters, period. Sooner or later, XCEL is going to figure out how to get rid of us. Permanently.”
Griffin eyed her. That was a leap. “That’s not part of the plan.”
“No?” she said. “Then what are you going to do with us?”
“I’m not cleared on Shifter policy,” he said simply. It was true. No one in XCEL trusted him right now. He’d have to earn that, with this mission. And right now, she was way, way too far ahead of it.
A flash of disbelief crossed her face. “If you were, you wouldn’t tell me anyway.”
And that was true too. “Full disclosure, remember?”
She surprised him with the heaviness in her voice. “Not on everything. Who’s the woman you used to live with?”
He stared at her for a full minute, debating his response to her acute insight and even more acute senses. He thought he’d purged everything that remained of Deirdre. Not so.
“Ex-wife,” he said, careful to control any emotion in his voice that Cam could use against him.
She raised her eyebrows. “Ah.”
Bringing Cam here was necessary to shed the scent of the XCEL detention center, but now he was seriously reconsidering that decision. Working with her was one thing, but he didn’t need anyone looking into his soul. And every time he saw her Shifter shadow, it reminded him that he couldn’t trust her. He couldn’t trust any of them. They had one goal: to beg, borrow, and steal any life they wanted.
She shot down the tequila. “Where do I sleep?”
Griffin noted with some satisfaction that she appeared tired. “My bed. I’ll take the couch.”
“Good night, Mercer.” Then she disappeared into his bedroom and shut the door behind her. His apartment returned to silence.
Griffin glanced at the flashing light on the answering machine and decided to save anything Sani had to say for later. His grandfather always knew what he was doing, even though they were thousands of miles apart. Sani wouldn’t approve of him using a shapeshifter to clear his own name. His grandfather cherished all living things, including aliens. It was one of the reasons they didn’t talk anymore. Well, Sani talked. Griffin listened and then deleted the messages.
Griffin gazed into the bottom of his glass, fighting the feeling of disgrace and guilt he experienced when he thought of Sani. He’d fought for this chance to clear his name and get some semblance of normalcy back. It was the hell he had to pay to make his life right again after it had been blown to hell, much like the buildings they’d visited tonight. Shifters were very good at that.
Anger resurged. He deserved to feel the way he did. And he deserved to deal with it the way he wanted to. He was using a Shifter to get back his life that was destroyed by a Shifter. It was justice. His way.
Then he reached for the bottle and poured himself another drink.
Harding leaned back in his chair at his desk and regarded his right-hand man, Agent Roberts. “Everything is proceeding on schedule?”
“Yes, sir,” Roberts replied, standing at the ready. “They covered three places on the list last night. We’ll let them do another five or six, and then send them out to track down the suspects.”
“Good,” Harding said and pushed a folder on his desk over to Roberts. “These are the latest hits.”
Roberts picked up the folder and flipped through it. “I’ll send them to Agent Mercer today.”
Harding smiled. Roberts was a good soldier. It was so much easier working with Roberts than with Mercer. No questions, no discussion, no ego involved. Just full, blind cooperation. Harding liked it that way. That was the way it should be. “Who is the technical analyst assigned to them?”
Roberts tucked the folder under his arm. “Ernest Vincent. He’s our best man.”
That could be a problem, Harding pondered. Vincent also happened to be one of Mercer’s few friends in the organization. “I’d like Ernest watched twenty-four/seven. I want his communications and access monitored.”
Roberts’ eyebrows arose. “Would you like me to assign someone else to them?”
It would look too suspicious if Harding did that. He’d played this game a long time. He splayed his fingers across his stomach as he leaned into the chair. “No. I simply want to make sure that everything is fully reported. This is a major case for us. The biggest, possibly, we will ever get. No mistakes.”
“No, sir,” Roberts said. “Anything else?”
“That’ll be all,” Harding replied, and waited until Roberts had left his office before pulling out his phone. He dialed a number that would never be kept in his contact list. It picked up on the third ring.
“Hello?”
Harding stood up and closed the door. “When is the next test scheduled for?”
“The latest batch is brewing now. We can try it as soon as we can get a test subject.”
Harding smiled. “I’ll take care of that.”
“We’ll be ready.” The line went dead.
Cam awoke from a dream about being naked and serving XCEL agents their dinners. She checked under the covers. She wasn’t naked. A long sigh slipped her lips, and she rolled over to see the clock next to Mercer’s bed. It read one P.M.
She rolled back and put her arm over her eyes. Mercer’s scent radiated from everywhere. The bed, the closet of clothes, the dresser drawers. The reminder hurt, because he was using her and she was letting him. And to that end, she would ultimately betray Shifters everywhere. As if they hadn’t been betrayed enough before on the last place they’d tried to settle.
Govan was a peaceful planet when Shifters arrived as refugees. That changed fast enough once the government tired of dealing with them. The subsequent genocide of her people had been nearly complete. Escape had been the only way to save the rest. She, her brother, and her father had been the lucky ones to escape, or so she’d thought. And now they were here. It was only a matter of time before it happened all over again, except this time there was no escape. They had nowhere to go and no way to get there. Earth was their last hope.
Maybe that was why she hated discovering that Shifters set the fires. It was proof, a crime against them. A reason to hate them.
She could see the headlines now: “Shifters Attack New York City!”
And they’d be wrong.
Well, mostly wrong.
It had dawned on her at the third site last night that these Shifters were executing the attacks with pinpoint accuracy. They weren’t sloppy, didn’t leave anything behind except their scent. They were pros, and they weren’t in it for the money. And that was just plain wrong.
The same teams of Shifters had burned and destroyed a series of buildings. Buildings. Not banks or ATMs, and not the typical places Shifters went for easy cash. She prided herself on how she could adapt to any culture, identify what was needed to survive, and find the ways to fill those needs.
But these buildings? A chemical lab, a medical equipment seller, and a business office. They made no sense. She wouldn’t need anything from those places to survive. No Shifter would. So why hit them?
It was a mystery. One that Mercer showed no inkling to investigate further. As far as she could tell, he was just her chauffeur and followed whatever orders Harding gave him to the letter. The big question was, why? Mercer clearly wasn’t happy about being ordered around, but he did it. Unless Harding had something on him, or he needed the paycheck. The stacks of overdue bills would attest to that. You’d think that someone who could see Shifters would be well paid in an organization like XCEL.
Regardless, Mercer wasn’t going to step outside the tiny box of guidelines he had. He didn’t care. No one would care, the least of all XCEL. All they wanted to do was find the Shifters and do God knew what with them.
Cam ran her fingers through her hair and then stretched her long body to ease the tension. She smelled like smoke and ash. What she needed was a shower and clean clothes. That’s when she noticed her suitcase by the bedroom door. Mercer must have brought it in. Next time, she was going to lock the door.
She picked up her cell phone to call her father. A text message was waiting. It was from Ernest and it said, “Your father is okay.”
Cam smiled. Her little geek was a man of his word. She dialed the number to reach her father. After a few transfers, he answered weakly. “Hello?”
“Hey,” she said, and feigned attitude. “You didn’t call me.”
He laughed softly. “First off, you were going to call me. Secondly, you’re working nights. Didn’t want to wake you.”
Cam frowned. “How did you know I was working nights?”
“That young man. I can’t remember his name.”
“Ernest?” she said, hiding the worry in her voice. Her father remembered less and less these days.
“Yes. Ernest. He seems very nice. And he sure likes you.”
“Really?” she said with a smile. “I’m almost afraid to hear what you two are talking about.”
Her father chuckled. “No worries. We have started playing chess though. He stops in a few times a day and makes a move.”
Cam smiled. “That’s good. Don’t beat him too badly, or he won’t play with you anymore.”
“Naw,” he said dismissively. “He’s sharp. He’ll make a game of it for me.”
“Good,” she said. “Everything else alright?”
“Fine here. I’m more worried about you.”
Cam glanced at Mercer’s bedroom door. “You know I can handle myself.”
“I do know, but you are still my daughter and I love you.”
Cam pursed her lips. If her father only knew precisely what she was doing, he’d be very disappointed. He didn’t abide by her use-or-be-used motto. But if she didn’t do it, he’d die.
“I love you too. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“To morrow.” And he hung up.
Cam ended the call and grabbed her suitcase. After selecting her clothes and toiletries for the day, she opened the bedroom door to the living room. The television was on, but there was no sound. She peered over the back of the couch and found Mercer sprawled out on his stomach, mostly naked. No shirt, no pants, just a pair of shorts and blanket haphazardly draped over him.
He was a big man. Long legs, broad back, strong shoulders, evenly bronzed skin. Very nice. Too bad he was also an XCEL agent.
“Sleep well?” he murmured into the small pillow his head rested on.
“Great,” she replied, hiding her surprise. And he had very good hearing for a human. “You?”
He twisted around on the couch, which was about six inches too short for him, and gave a groan as he lay on his back.
Also nice,
Cam thought. Deep chest, thick biceps, lean muscle structure. Such a waste.
Cam thought. Deep chest, thick biceps, lean muscle structure. Such a waste.
“I slept great,” he said with a slow drawl. “Can’t wait to do this every night for the next few weeks.”
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