Body Thief (13 page)

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Authors: C.J. Barry

BOOK: Body Thief

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“The only thing you need to worry about is getting that woman close enough to smell them.”

“That woman” was glaring at the phone with murderous intent.

“Concentrate on your own job. Remember, you can be replaced,” Harding said.

Griffin felt the surge of humiliation flood over him. Heartbeat by heartbeat, he pushed the anger and resentment down beneath what was left of his pride. Blood thrummed in his head, burning away at his soul. “Yes, sir.”

“Damn right,” Harding said and hung up.

Cam was watching him as he set the phone down, carefully. Otherwise, he’d throw it across the room. Griffin braced himself on the counter for a moment to put his emotions back in check.

“I should have killed him when I had the chance,” Cam said.

Griffin raised his head to look at her. Blue eyes peered back at him. “I need him.”

She set the printouts on the counter. “I know. I’ll just have to wait until you don’t.”

He’d pay to see that.

“You really need to let that anger out,” she said.

He regarded her with surprise. “Excuse me?”

She sat on the stool across from him and leaned forward. The front of her bathrobe opened just enough for him to see silky skin. To his dismay, he felt himself getting hard. He moved closer to the island to hide his indiscretion. What was he thinking?

“If you don’t, it’ll eat you alive,” she said and smiled wickedly. “Want to arm wrestle?”

Wrestle. That could possibly be the one thing that would release the tension he was carrying. It would also be a very bad idea. “You’d go down.”

Challenge flashed in her eyes. “You could try.”

For a moment, he forgot that she was a Shifter. That her people were the reason for all his misery. For a moment, he imagined wrestling. And then he remembered all his sleepless nights and merciless collectors. He reached out and tapped the papers. “Let’s save our strength for the bad guys. Find anything?”

“Not yet. On the surface, the companies that were hit don’t appear to have anything in common.”

“Told you,” Griffin said, and turned back to the sink to dish out the pasta.

“On the surface, I said.”

He grinned out of her line of sight.

“It’s a little like doing a puzzle and finding the edge pieces,” she continued. “You know there’s a pattern, but there are big gaps that don’t make sense. One thing is for certain; they all deliver a service or product to someone else.”

“That’s called business, Cam. Everyone does it.”

She wasn’t giving up. “What I need is a list of their customers, particularly any that they have in common.”

Griffin spooned sauce on the pasta and sprinkled on grated cheese. “Maybe Ernest can figure it out.”

Cam was staring at him in shock when he turned around with the plates. He held them for a moment. “What?”

“Well, number one, you cook. I didn’t see that coming.”

He slid her a plate. “It’s not cooking. It’s pasta. Any moron can make it.”

She shrugged. “I can’t.”

Griffin pulled up the stool on his side of the island. “And?”

“You are giving me Ernest—free of charge. He already used his three hours,” she said warily. “Why?”

Griffin loaded spaghetti on his fork, not wanting to admit that something felt wrong. The way Harding reacted to his questions. The way Ernest was being watched. The big rush to get this job done. And as much as he didn’t want to look for trouble, he also didn’t want to have this end badly. Right now, it had that feeling. Besides, Harding had pissed him off.

“You might be onto something,” he finally said.

Cam raised her hands. “Halle-frickin’-luiah!”

A fork full of pasta was poised at his mouth. “Don’t get used to it.”

She laughed. “Are you kidding? Dinner and a confession? Doesn’t get any better than that. Happy here.”

He swallowed his pasta. “I’m not confessing anything. I’m just covering my ass. I don’t trust Harding.”

Cam sucked a long string of spaghetti between her lips and licked off the sauce. “Right.”

Griffin finished his meal thinking of wrestling.

The sad truth was all bars were the same. Whether they catered to humans or Shifters, male or female, the games were all the same.

Cam led the way through the third bar they’d visited tonight, her nose on alert. She was getting pretty tired of sucking cigar smoke and bad cologne into her lungs. She had a headache from trying to sort through the other scents and was getting meaner with every jostle. Jumbled music thrummed through the walls, floors, and patrons, making for a slurry of chaos. It wasn’t helping her mood.

Their suspect had been spotted here thirty minutes ago by an XCEL informant. She tried to squeeze between two humans who didn’t feel like moving until they noticed Mercer behind her and let her through. She glanced behind her and caught her breath. Mercer’s face was intense and fierce as he stared down the men who blocked her way.

She turned around before he saw her, surprised by the possessiveness he radiated. No man had ever looked like that for her. Maybe he was just doing his job, protecting his mission. It was no secret how much he wanted this and what he’d give up to get it. She was simply a vehicle. The thought didn’t bother her. Any pride she had had been lost years ago. It was a Shifter thing.

She moved from the front of the bar to the back and spotted their man sitting at a booth with three other Shifters. He wore a gray hooded sweatshirt that he had pulled down over his head. His skin was brown, and he had distinctly Latino features. The name they had on him was John Smith. Not exactly original.

Mercer stopped her about fifteen feet away from the booth, which was the best position they could get in the crowded joint. Cam was trying to figure out how to move close enough to check the suspect’s scent when Mercer slipped his arm comfortably around her waist to pull her against him. He nestled his mouth against her hair and whispered, “You see him?”

“What are you doing?” she asked, stunned by his sudden and totally unexpected touch.

“Trying to be quiet. I know that’s difficult for you.”

Her senses were taking a serious turn toward Mercer, absorbing every part of him. She could play along too. “Yes, I see him. But I need to get closer to identify him. This place smells like urine.”

Mercer turned them a bit so he could get a better look at the suspect. The movement sent a whole new set of sensations across her skin. Cam realized that no one was even paying any attention to him or her. They were embraced like any other couple in love. They belonged here. She’d never belonged anywhere before. It felt nice, and yet, terrifying.

Mercer said, “This is not a good place to approach him. We’ll wait him out.”

He was right about that. The suspect wouldn’t be happy when they tried to talk to him. And in a tight place like this, that’d be trouble. Mercer stepped back and took her by the hand as he led them to a quiet spot in the back where they could watch their man. The lamp over a pool table was the only tangible light in the vicinity, so it was dark, at least by human standards.

Mercer eased her against his chest. Cam put her hands out instinctively and then rested them on his jacket.

“Easy,” he said low.

“What are you
doing
?” she asked in no uncertain terms.

He kept his gaze on the bar area. “If we order a drink, I won’t be able to handle him. Especially if he brings his friends along.”

He’d had only one drink tonight, but she was getting the feeling that he drank a lot. Of course, if she worked for Harding, she would too.

“And if we drink soda, we’ll get beat up,” he added with a rare smile.

Cam burst out laughing. “So that leaves groping me?”

He finally looked down at her. She was a few inches shorter than he was, but it still felt too close. His mouth curled. “Think of it as being handled.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? Is this how you handle everyone?”

His focus intensified, and her belly fluttered a little.

“That’s dangerous territory, Cam,” he said softly.

She moved a fraction of an inch closer. “Chicken.”

Time ticked by one heartbeat at a time as she waited. She shouldn’t provoke him, but he was buttoned up so tight by XCEL, Harding, and this job that she couldn’t resist finding out what was really underneath.

A moment later, she had her answer when he leaned back against the wall, taking her with him to his chest. He kept his eyes on the bar scene over her shoulder, but the rest of him belonged to her. The flutter grew to a tremble as his fingers flexed on her waist, and she felt the heat spread out across her body. His breath was warm on her face. His thumbs traced a circular pattern through her shirt and ignited little circles of flames.

Oh, this is so wrong,
she told herself. He was hot and getting hotter. She should back down now, but her body wasn’t responding to threats, and she decided to hell with it. Playing with fire had always been one of her favorite pastimes. Besides, she was in full control and held all the cards.

She closed her eyes as steam built between their bodies, and every super sense she possessed heightened to the just-bearable range. Her fingers pushed into his chest between them, feeling the smooth skin over steely muscle. Griffin’s hands slid up under her jacket, fingers splayed, dragging fire across her skin.

Her breathing turned faster, and deeper. She leaned into him and let his thigh wedge between her legs. A low sigh escaped her lips at the wondrous sensation it drew from her core. His heart pounded under her hands, and his breathing deepened. The brush of his lips grazed her temple, every movement building on the last.

She was burning up inside, her senses reeling. His cheek pressed to hers, rough with shadow. His breath was warm and deep in her ear. And her control was slipping by the second.

She pressed her hip against his erection and heard him swear. Thick. Hard. In fact, all of him was hard and lean. Mean. Dangerous. Fire. She growled a little as he lowered his head, his mouth right next to hers. She turned her head toward him—

Then someone dropped a bottle on the floor behind her, jerking her back to the present. She opened her eyes, and her gaze met Mercer’s. Too late, she realized her mouth was open in a very obvious way.

She closed her lips and donned a forced smile as she leaned back. Mercer released her, and she took a step back. Her heart was thumping away, and her body hummed with unfettered lust with nowhere to go. She pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to douse the fire that had gotten away from her.

So much for having the upper hand. This wasn’t her first rodeo. There was no excuse for acting like this was any different, even if it was. The only variable was Mercer, and that was going to be a problem. At least she knew what it’d be like now.

For his part, Mercer was dead serious. In fact, he looked angry. What did he expect?

“You started it,” she reminded him.

“You liked it,” he noted.

“So did you.” She grinned knowingly.

Mercer’s gaze focused over her shoulder toward the front of the bar. “Our man’s leaving with his buddies. Time to move.”

She nodded, thankful for the promise of a good fight.