Body Thief (22 page)

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Authors: C.J. Barry

BOOK: Body Thief
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Then Sani said, “You may erase this message now.”
Cam blinked at the phone as he hung up.
 
Griffin sat in his car a block from his apartment and watched the Shifter in human form watching his place. It was the same Shifter he noticed at the bus stop. It would make sense, given that he just met with another one who was checking them out. He and Cam had definitely made someone nervous. It was nine A.M. now, and the sun was climbing the sky. Cam was probably climbing the walls.
He pulled out his cell phone and called his home number. Cam picked up and snapped, “Where are you, Mercer?”
He grinned. “Waiting outside in the car. We’re going to see your father.”
“Give me ten minutes,” she said quickly, and hung up.
Ten minutes, that would be enough time to find out who their spy was. He got out of the car and made his way to the Shifter. Traffic was light, but a smattering of tourists and walkers kept him hidden from view. The Shifter didn’t spot him until he was twenty feet away, but when he did, he took off at a dead run.
Griffin chased him down the street, weaving through people and street vendors. They crossed the street on a green light, and Griffin dodged horn-blowing taxis. The Shifter ducked into a parking garage with Griffin just a few feet behind him.
The Shifter took the ramp down. Griffin knew he needed to catch the Shifter before he shifted. They couldn’t shift in daylight, but underground in a parking garage was definitely a possibility. The Shifter was too busy looking back to see where Griffin was to notice the car that careened around the corner right in front of him.
The driver slammed on the brakes, and the Shifter hit the bumper and flipped over the car, landing in a heap behind it. Griffin yelled, “Shapeshifter!” to the driver, and as he expected, the driver peeled rubber to get away. Then he tackled the downed Shifter. They rolled across the pavement until Griffin had the Shifter pinned under him. The Shifter tried to change, but Griffin grabbed his bare arm. Energy surged through his hands, but he forced himself to stop. If he froze the guy, he wouldn’t be able to get anything out of him. Then he lost his grip when the Shifter thrashed and kicked and generally made a huge fuss.
“Why are you watching us?” Griffin asked, dodging arms and legs.
The Shifter bucked to shake him. “Let me go.”
Griffin grabbed him around the neck and tried to release just a little energy, just enough to slow the guy down. “Who do you work for?”
“Nuuugh,” the Shifter said, and then suddenly rolled over, throwing Griffin across the concrete. By the time Griffin tumbled to his feet, the Shifter had shifted and was gone in a puff of black smoke.
Griffin brushed himself off. He didn’t bother chasing the guy. He was down in the bowels of the parking garage at this point, probably escaping through a service exit or something.
“Fine, have fun without me.”
He turned to find Cam walking down the ramp behind him. She was wearing jeans, sandals, and a soft chambray shirt. She looked good, but then, she always did.
Griffin told her. “He’s been watching the apartment.”
Cam stopped a few feet away. “I know. I noticed him hanging around this morning. Are you okay?”
His shoulder wound had opened up again and was oozing blood. Cuts, bruises, and abrasions. Par for the course. “Never been better.”
“I told you it releases stress—” She stopped, and then she frowned as she stared at him.
He eyed her. “What?”
She moved closer, real close, and he stilled. Her hair was wet from her shower, and her skin was dewy soft in the overhead lights. He could see the curve of her breasts under the shirt.
“Don’t move,” she said and closed her eyes as she drew within inches of him. She was so close, he could see her long lashes, smell the shampoo she used. Every cell in his body aligned in her direction. He was mesmerized for a moment until he realized she was sniffing him.
She opened her eyes. “That was one of
our
Shifters.”
Disappointment surprised him. “I think we’re under surveillance.”
Cam tilted her head slightly and narrowed her eyes. “Really? I smell more than one Shifter on you.”
He headed up the ramp. “About that.”
“Uh-huh,” she said and stepped up beside him. “Would it have anything to do with your trip to the subway this morning?”
He kept forgetting that she could smell everything. “Maybe.”
“The trip I wasn’t invited on?” she added.
“I met with one of our informants. A Shifter. He wouldn’t meet with me unless I was alone,” he said. That was mostly true. He wasn’t sure if the guy was working for the Shifters or not, and decided to keep that out for now. “It’ll tell you what he said in the car on the way.”
That seemed to appease her. “I appreciate you taking me to see my father.”
He glanced at her. Actually, he was also going to see how Ernest was holding up, but the look of gratitude in her eyes was worth lying for. “No problem.”
 
Her father appeared older. Cam calmed the panic in her belly as he handed her a cup of tea and slowly, painfully sat down on the cot next to her.
“They even let me make my own tea now,” he said with a wink. “Good behavior.”
Cam nodded and stared into her teacup. He didn’t have long. Weeks, if she was lucky. She glanced over her shoulder at the expanse of glass behind them. Cameras were recording their every movement, microphones their every word. It was a prison after all. No secrets were to be shared here. At least none that XCEL could decipher.
Her father sipped his tea, hunched over and growing thinner by the day. Cam set her tea on the table next to the cot and slid her hand inside her jacket as she scooted closer to her father. The cameras would see nothing.
Then she took out the small Glock that Mercer had armed her with and laid it in her father’s lap. He turned to her in surprise, and she dug back in her memory for an old forgotten language.
“This is for you,” she said slowly, searching for the correct translation into their Primary dialect. It was the first language of the shapeshifters, nearly lost from centuries of disuse and acculturation with other worlds.
“Why?” her father replied in Primary.
“Things are getting complicated,” she told him, her words falling into place with surprising ease. “We might fail. If that happens . . .” She paused, searching for the words. “You must leave here.”
Her father took the Glock and slipped it inside his shirt. Then he took a sip of tea. “I will wait for you.”
“No,” she said quickly. “No. You leave when you have the chance. I’ll see if Ernest can help you.”
Her father set down his tea and turned to her. His concern was etched across his leathery skin. “Where will you be?”
“I don’t know,” she told him truthfully. “I will come for you if I can.”
“And if you don’t,” he asked, “then what can I assume?”
That I’m dead,
she thought. Because that would be the only way she wouldn’t be here. “I’m out saving Shifters everywhere.”
“I hope so.” He smiled and put his hand on hers. “You remember the language I taught you.”
She gazed at him. “I remember everything you taught me.”
“Then my destiny is nearly fulfilled,” he said. “Do what I cannot. Carry on for me. That is my final wish.”
Reality hurt, more than she’d hurt before. He wouldn’t ever be able to fight for what he’d always wanted—to save the Shifters and their culture. “I’ll try.”
He said, “You are my life’s work, my greatest achievement. I am so proud of you.”
Emotions flooded over her, and she reached out and hugged him, holding on to his cool, thin body.
He whispered to her, “Save the Shifters. They need you more than I do. I can take care of myself.”
She’d seen him do just that in his younger days. Today, she wasn’t so sure. But he was setting her free, passing the torch that she knew he’d carried his entire life. She whispered in Primary, “Make sure to shoot Harding first.”
Her father’s boney shoulders shook with a chuckle, and Cam smiled through her tears.
 
Ernest slapped a communications device in Griffin’s hand. “This will allow you to talk to me. Forget your cell phones. They won’t work underground.”
He gave one to Cam as well, and she lifted her gaze to Griffin with some consternation. Agent Roberts, Harding’s right-hand minion, watched them from the corner of the armory. Any minute now, Cam was going to kick his sorry ass out.
Griffin wasn’t sure what transpired during her talk with her father, but she’d come out of his cell with a whole new killer attitude. He had to admit, he’d kind of missed it. As long as they were on the same side.
Ernest lifted two guns from the wall in the weapons room and held them up. “These are gonna save your butts. New weapon, called a Salt Round. The bullets are designed to crystallize fluids. Basically, sucks the surrounding tissue dry. It won’t kill unless you hit a vital organ, but it will sure as hell slow a Shifter down.”
Cam frowned. “But they—” She hesitated. “We will still heal.”
“Yes, but much more slowly than Shifters normally do,” he answered. Then he addressed her pointedly. “Make sure no one uses it on you.”
She grinned at him with affection. “I’ll make sure.”
Griffin watched Ernest give her a goofy smile, and he shook his head. The kid was madly in love with a woman who was too much car for him. “Just how beta is this?”
Ernest put his hands on his hips. “I guess you’ll find out if it works when you use it.”
“Terrific,” Griffin muttered. “Is that it?”
“No,” Ernest said and started yanking equipment and armor off the racks in the room. He brought back a pile and dumped it on the table. “Don’t know if you’ll need all this, but take it just in case.”
“Looks like we’re going to war,” Cam observed.
“You are,” Ernest said. “Don’t expect a warm welcome down there.”
Cam gave him a jaded look. “I don’t expect a warm welcome anywhere.”
“Anything else?” Griffin asked as he sorted through the gear and loaded it into duffel bags.

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