Body Thief (37 page)

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Authors: C.J. Barry

BOOK: Body Thief
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“I feel a little overdressed,” Cam yelled to him.
A group of scantily clad women walked by them wearing strategically placed rhinestones. The
thump-thump-thump
of music piped through speakers, and the noise level was barely tolerable. The joint was jumping.
Griffin glanced at her. She wore a red tank top, jeans, and flat sandals. She looked perfect to him. He leaned toward her and said, “Maybe that’s because you’re not here to find a man.”
Cam slid him a side glance. “Says who?”
He grinned.
Liar
.
“When is Ernest going to call this in?”
Griffin checked his phone. “In exactly eighty-seven seconds.”
Then he noticed one of Aristotle’s six men across the dance floor. He made eye contact with Griffin and shook his head once. No sign of Harding’s minions or a bomb bent on blowing up a whole new demographic for Harding’s report. If there was a bomb. Ernest could be wrong.
“We should split up,” Cam said, reading his mind.
He leaned close. “Call me if you find anything.”
She nodded and made her way around customers gyrating to the music. A brightly lit stage occupied one wall of the bar where a DJ was doing his thing. A light show raced across the dancers and walls. It made the scene feel surreal. Just wait until all hell broke loose.
Unfortunately, there were a lot more people here than he expected. He wasn’t looking forward to the stampeding herd when the bomb threat was announced. He tapped his earpiece to activate it and said, “You there?”
“Right here,” Ernest replied. “Wow, sounds like a party.”
“Are we a go?”
“The call is going in thirty seconds,” Ernest said. “Is everyone in place?”
In his earpiece, Aristotle’s men and Cam each counted down around the room. Everyone was set for the mayhem.
“You’ll have about two minutes to find that bomb. That’s the best I can do,” Ernest told them. “And then you have to get your collective asses out of there before the cops show up.”
Griffin saw Cam by the stage and felt a pang of concern. He shouldn’t, he knew that. She could certainly handle herself. She didn’t need him. And that was more true than he cared to acknowledge.
“Showtime, boys and girls,” Ernest said. “Your two minutes start now.”
The sprinklers in the ceiling activated, spraying water everywhere as patrons screamed. Bright white lights overrode the laser show, and the music cut out. A prerecorded voice announced that all occupants were to head to the nearest exits and began listing the locations.
A split second later, everyone panicked and started rushing for the exits. Griffin held his ground, his eyes on the floor.
“Watch for anyone who doesn’t run,” he told the others.
The manager raced up on the stage, took the microphone from the DJ, and tried to calm the crowd. But a couple hundred drunk people weren’t listening.
Griffin saw one of the Shifters help a woman who was being crushed by the crowd. He was starting to wonder if the fire alarm was worse than the bomb.
“I think I have one,” Cam said in his ear.
“Where are you?” he asked, looking over heads. “Where are you?”
“I got him,” she said.
“Wait for help,” he yelled.
There was a loud
thump
and then a grunt. She didn’t wait. “Where are you, Cam?”
“Stage left,” she said.
He pushed through the oncoming crowd toward the stage. The place was slowly emptying, and people were interested only in getting out. Which was good. Because that’s when the shooting started.
Griffin couldn’t tell if it was a panicked partier or one of his or Harding’s men, but everyone started screaming and ducking and shoving.
Shapeshifter heads popped up above the people, causing even more chaos as they shifted to Primary form to defend themselves.
“Shit,” Griffin said when he saw Cam in her Shifter form take a swing at a man.
“What’s happening?” Ernest said in his earpiece.
“The usual.” Griffin punched a guy holding a gun in his hand. He dropped to the floor, and Griffin dragged him to the side so he wouldn’t get trampled.
“Crap,” Ernest said. “You gotta get out of there. A false alarm is one thing. Gunfire? I can’t help you.”
He was too busy pushing through people to argue. The Shifters were taking out anyone who pulled a gun. In this city, that could be everyone. “Easy, guys. We don’t know if any of these people work for Harding.”
He reached Cam and found her staring at a black box next to a man lying on the floor in a storage room next to the stage. She said, “He was working this when I found him. Locked it up before I could stop him. What do you think?”
Griffin knelt and checked it over. Could be a bomb. Could be drugs. Or could be a bomb. He said into his comm, “We got what we came for. Everyone clear out
now
.”
Cam didn’t move, and he noticed that she’d shifted back to human.
“I’m sticking with you,” she said.
“No, you’re not,” he replied. “They know you’re Shifters. They’ll blame this on you.”
“Yes, they will.”
Man, she was stubborn. “And we have to take a bomb out of here.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I know. I’m sticking with you.”
He stopped trying. “Don’t blame me when you blow up.”
She glanced toward the front of the nearly empty bar. “I hear sirens.”
Now or never. Griffin carefully picked up the black box. It didn’t go off. Things were looking up.
He followed Cam out through the stage door to the back alley where a small crowd was filing out. A spotlight glowed over the trash cans and boxes.
Griffin was just about to turn toward their escape route when a familiar face caught his attention and stopped him in his tracks. It was dark and utter chaos, but that face—
Parker?
It couldn’t be. Emotion flooded over him, and he almost dropped the box. People moved, and the face was gone into the night.
“What is it?” Cam asked.
Crazy dreams, visions, and now he was seeing dead people. What next? “Nothing,” he said. “Go.”
They ran the length of the alley, through a door into the next building and a series of doorways and hatches that linked to the underground. Aristotle’s men were waiting at intervals to cover for them. The doors were sealed and locked behind them. Only a Shifter would be able to track them.
Twenty minutes later, they were ushered into an abandoned storefront and met up with a Shifter who was one of Aristotle’s contacts and a bomb expert. Griffin was glad to set the box down and hand it over to someone who knew what the hell they were doing.
“Name’s Carl,” the Shifter said by way of introduction. He wore a T-shirt, jeans, and a Yankees baseball cap. It still amazed Griffin how well they blended in.
Cam said to him, “Tell me we didn’t just drag a box of cigars halfway across the city.”
Carl bent down and sniffed the box. “Nope, it’s a bomb. You sure you want to keep this?”
Griffin answered, “If possible. However, we’d kind of like it to blow when we want it to.”
“Okay.” The Shifter turned his Yankees cap backward and reached for his tool kit. “You two might want to leave now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
 
P
arker followed their scents to the entrance of the underground. If he hadn’t seen Griffin with the Shifters outside the nightclub last night with his own eyes, he’d have thought Harding made it all up.
Griffin had switched sides.
Parker never thought he’d see that, especially considering how things ended between them. Griffin had every reason to hate Shifters, and yet, there he was. If Griffin saw him, he didn’t bite. He just turned and followed the female Shifter, Camille. Harding was right about that too. Time to see what else Harding had up his sleeve.
Parker called Harding. He answered immediately. “Did you find them?”
“Sure did. What now?”
“Kill him. Kill them both,” Harding said. “I thought I made that clear.”
He had, but Parker wasn’t an idiot. The NYC underground was well known for its unsavory population of Shifters and criminals. He wasn’t going down there without a good reason. Harding yelling at him was not doing it.
“It’s gonna cost you,” he said.
Harding said, “I already saved you once.”
“That was then. This is now. He’s underground. You can’t get to him without me. That’s why you called me.”
There was a long pause on the other end, and Parker could almost see Harding seethe. Worth every moment.
“What do you want?” Harding finally said.
Parker considered the open invitation. “Let’s start with the classic—money. How’s a hundred grand sound?”
“What? I can’t get that kind of money—”
“Then I can’t help you.”
Another long pause. Christ, it was priceless.
“You’ll have it. But I want the location of the Shifters,
and
Mercer’s and Camille’s bodies.”
What a shame. He was thinking of asking her out on a date. “It’s a deal.”
Parker disconnected the phone. Time to go kill his ex-partner. Then he checked his weapons and headed underground.
 
Griffin stood in the desert in the relentless sun. It scorched his bare skin, turning it red and raw, but he remained.
The sky was empty.
The Eagle gone forever. She’d never be back here again. At first, he’d seen her as the enemy. A ravenous creature who took flesh from the earth to sustain herself.
But without her, the world was quieter. Lonelier. Stark.
“You miss her,” Sani said.
Griffin turned toward his grandfather. Sani’s features were distinctly Native American, proud and strong. The brown skin on his face was weathered but smooth. His long hair flowed white down his back. He was barefooted and wore a white shirt and brown pants. A silver pendant hung around his neck. He was exactly the way that Griffin remembered him the last time they saw each other.
The last time they spoke face-to-face.
The time before the anger and arguments that drove Griffin to the city where he would find his riches.
“I miss her,” he said. “Can you bring her back?”
Sani looked over the sand. “I cannot.”
Griffin felt the disappointment to his core.
“But you can,” Sani continued.
“I have no magic for that,” he replied.
“Do you love her?”
Griffin was surprised by his yes.
“Then you will find a way,” Sani said.
The wind picked up, and Griffin let the hot air caress him, reminding him of the past and all the good things there. It hadn’t all been bad. He’d just been too angry and too impatient. For the injustice of the reservation, for the treatment of his people, for the poverty, the barely livable houses, and too few schools. He’d wanted more.
Now he just wanted the Eagle.
“I miss the desert,” Griffin said. “And you.”
Sani nodded. “I know. We miss you too.”
Griffin smiled at the “we” part. Sani walked barefooted for a reason. He was connected to the earth and the pulse of the land. It was something Griffin had never learned to do. Actually, he’d just never believed in it. Wanting something to be didn’t make it happen.
“If you want to bring her back, you must let go of the anger,” Sani said. “It will weigh upon you until you do.”
The anger. He thought of Parker and what he’d done. How he’d ruined Griffin’s marriage and all the rest. Forgiveness was too good for that bastard. The anger would stay.
“Then you have a choice,” Sani said. “Anger and love cannot share a home.”

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