Body Thief (6 page)

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Authors: C.J. Barry

BOOK: Body Thief
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Griffin needed a drink, but since he was still in the office at seven P.M., he doubted he’d get it anytime soon. He paced the small office that belonged to his technical analyst and scanned the printout of attacked locations to visit along with the list of suspects and possible places to find them.
He summarized, “All in the worst neighborhoods in the city. Sure you don’t want to do some fieldwork?”
Ernest let out a rather unflattering raspberry. “No thanks. I’ll stick to my computers and my numbers.”
And he did just that. Six side-by-side monitors were lined across three disheveled and mismatched desks, there was enough cable to rewire the entire building, and a stack of blinking boxes threatened to topple any minute. It also made him the best technical field analyst Griffin had ever met.
“What are you worried about?” Ernest asked. “Just say the word; I’ll hook you up with whatever you need. The agency has your back.”
Griffin laughed. Right. “Like always.”
Ernest’s crazy tapping fingers stopped. He was thin and pale, and his eyes were a bit too big for his head. “You got a second chance here,” he said. “That’s more than most people get at this place.”
“That’s because they didn’t have anyone else who can see Shifters,” Griffin corrected. “Otherwise, I’d still be locked up.”
Ernest checked the glass windows that lined one side of his office, and he leaned toward Griffin. “You just gotta come through on this one mission, and you’re back to where you were. Good as new.”
Griffin liked Ernest, even if he was totally oblivious to the real world sometimes. “All I want is to clear my name. After that, I don’t give a damn what happens to Harding or this agency.”
Ernest grimaced. “You need to be careful saying stuff like that around here. Never know who’s listening.” He leaned back. “Granted, my detectors would be beeping like crazy if there was a bug in here, but hey, even I don’t know everything.”
Griffin folded up the papers and tucked them in his pocket. “You’re close enough for me. I figure we can cover the list of attacks in a few nights. Then we’ll check out the suspects.”
Ernest grinned suddenly at him. “Do I get to meet her?”
“I’ll bring her by in the morning before we leave,” Griffin said. The thought of escorting Cam around made him
really
want a drink.
“I hear she’s wicked hot,” Ernest said.
Yes, she was. And dangerous and absolutely untrustworthy. He considered their “deal” and wished he’d had more leverage. “She’s okay.”
“Man, what happened to you? Are you dead inside or something?” Ernest asked.
Griffin noticed his reflection in the windows. A man in a suit stared back at him. Dead inside. That was close. That’s what happened when your life was devastated by a Shifter. You lost everything you loved and cared about, all that you worked for. There was nothing left except one chance.
He considered his deal with Cam and brushed aside the guilt. He’d given her everything he could that didn’t involve Harding. But her brother? He wasn’t giving her that, because then he’d have to explain it to Harding. Griffin was on thin ice as it was. If Harding found out they were supposed to find her brother—another Shifter, no less—he’d fire Griffin on the spot. This was not going to end that way. Not this time. This time, the Shifters were going to get the short end of the stick.
He reached out and slapped Ernest’s shoulder. “Get some sleep, bud. Because you’ll need it to deal with Cam. I promise you that.”
 
“Please don’t do this for me, Camille,” her father whispered. They had their heads together in his cell to keep their conversation as quiet as possible, but Cam knew that XCEL was listening to every word.
She clasped his cool hands in hers. Dewey appeared tired and worried. His human body was failing him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He’d lost the ability to revert to Primary Shifter form months ago. It was his Shifter DNA that was killing him from the inside out—slowly, painfully, and without mercy.
“It’s our only hope,” she insisted.
His
only hope. “Their resources to find Thaniel are much better than ours.”
He shook his head. “I’m going to die someday, Camille. You have to let go. I don’t want to take you with me.”
Right, and leave him here? With them? XCEL had more respect for a bug than they did for Shifters. Cam pursed her lips and glanced at the mirrored wall of his cell.
“You won’t,” she said, patting his hand.
“I’m not worth it,” he insisted.
Cam blinked away the tears that threatened. He had no idea how much she needed him. But there were so many ifs. If XCEL found Thaniel. If Cam could convince Thaniel to come here. If she could get the three of them together in one place to perform the blood transfusion. If the transfusion saved her father’s life.
And every single one of those ifs was worth it to save her father from the disease that was eating away at him. She gave him a hug, all the while savoring the bit of warmth he had left. “I’ll call you every day. If they don’t treat you well, let me know.”
He stood with her and nodded. “I have a nice place to stay, free food, and drink. What more could I want?”
To live
. “I’ll call every day.”
He nodded, looking even frailer in this sterile environment. Cam stared at him for a long moment, fearful it might be the last time she saw him. He’d survived so much, suffered, and lost. He didn’t deserve to die this way. Then she turned to leave before her emotions got the better of her. She walked out of his room and into the hallway to find Mercer waiting. Cam avoided his curious stare and followed him to an office on the other end of the building.
There were no windows, and monitors lined most of the walls. Computer cables crisscrossed the floor, the trash can was overflowing, and it smelled like coffee was burning somewhere close by.
A tall, lanky man jumped to his feet, knocking over a pile of papers on his desk. He had super-short brown hair and a pale complexion. He scanned down her body and let out a long, drawn-out, heartfelt “Wow.”
Mercer cleared his throat, and the man’s eyes flicked back to hers. “Sorry. I heard about you, but—” He shot out a boney hand to her. “Agent Vincent, but you can call me Ernest. Everyone does. Nice to meet you.”
“Cam.” She gave him a man-killer smile as he continued to pump her hand. Cam watched the red rise up from his white collar and cover his face.
Cam grinned. “I know. Nice, huh?”
What did she care? It wasn’t like this body was really hers.
“Have a seat, Ernest,” Mercer said loud enough to make Ernest nearly jump out of his skin. She took a chair in front of a big monitor as he moved to his keyboard and starting tapping out instructions.
Mercer stood behind her, leaned over, and whispered, “That’s not behaving, Cam.”
“Trust me,” she whispered back. “That’s behaving.”
Then she watched the monitor. A map of the tristate area appeared first, then dots started to pop up across it.
“So the locations,” Ernest began. “We got strikes everywhere. I uploaded everything you need into your phone, Griff.” He handed Mercer a phone, but Cam was only half paying attention.
“Strikes?” she asked.
Ernest shrugged. “Bombs, mostly. Sometimes fires, and an occasional gas explosion. We also have lesser strikes, more like sabotage. Or outright theft of shipping vessels, train car contents, delivery trucks, that sort of thing. All strikes occur at night and when the places are empty.”
“What kind of places?” Cam asked.
Mercer leaned forward and answered, “Transportation companies, train stations, business offices, laboratories, chemical plants, even private residences.”
Cam glanced over her shoulder at him. “That doesn’t make sense. Despite what you’ve heard, Shifters don’t generally do anything unless it suits them.”
Mercer replied, “That’s why you’re here.”
“And me,” Ernest said. “If you need anything while you are scouting the locations, I’m your man. I got connections everywhere, stats, intel, whatever you need.”
“At least I know I can count on one person,” she said and smiled a smile that made Ernest blush to his toes. She reached over and laid her hand on his arm, which made his eyes light up in a very sweet way. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Be careful, Ernest,” Mercer warned.
She wrinkled her nose at him and turned back to her geek. “Can you check on my father once in a while? He’s alone.”
Ernest grinned. “Sure.”
“Daily?” she said, her voice low.
Ernest’s grin stayed. “Yes. Daily.”
He was telling the truth, she could see it in his eyes. He didn’t carry the anger or heaviness that Mercer did. She squeezed his lean arm. “Thank you.”
Mercer said, “And thanks for the briefing. We’ll contact you later tonight.”
Cam stood up and faced him. “Tonight?”
He smiled. “Tonight.”
CHAPTER FOUR
 
W
ashington Heights at midnight, and Cam’s carefully crafted deal wasn’t looking so good. They were standing on a corner in front of a one-story building surrounded by makeshift chain-link fencing, no trespassing signs, and yellow crime scene tape. Graffiti decorated surrounding buildings, and in the distance, the hills on the other side of the Hudson etched the night sky.
The exterior of the building was scorched and warped. The roof sagged. Half the building was down to the bare infrastructure of beams and brick. Inside, all was dark. The smell of the recent fire overshadowed all other scents. This wasn’t going to be as easy as she, or XCEL, thought.
Mercer read from his phone. “Neotech Supplies. Torched three days ago. They distributed biotech equipment and supplies. Our investigators found traces of an accelerant. Definitely arson.”
And it was up to her to tell them who’d torched the place. She scanned their immediate surroundings. They were on a busy intersection that never slept. Buildings were packed closely together in this area, and foot traffic was moderate, even at this time of the night.
A pang of doubt prompted her to ask, “Are you sure this is the place?”
Mercer glanced at her. “Do you see any other buildings that look crispy?”
She didn’t, even with her superior long-distance vision. Still, this was wide open and heavily traveled. Not a prime location for Shifters to be scavenging. What were they after? What would make them risk getting caught? And why torch the place afterward? It would only draw unwanted attention.
“Started inside?” she asked.
He pocketed the phone in his jacket. “Yes. No grenade launchers, if that’s what you’re thinking. They definitely got up close and personal with the building. Fire was reported by a passing motorist at 2:35 A.M.”
“Which means it could have been started at any time before then. I doubt the neighborhood watch is real active around here.”
He nodded in agreement under the streetlight. This was the first time she’d seen him in something other than a suit. He wore nicely fitted jeans, a black T-shirt under a black jacket, and boots. Somehow, they made him look bigger and more dangerous. Like the animal had been released.
“What was taken?” she asked.
Mercer narrowed his gaze. “You ask a lot of questions.”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Call me naturally curious.”
“Or paranoid.” He crossed his arms. “It’s not your job to investigate. We have investigators.”
She gave a quick laugh. “All biased against Shifters. Besides, we had a deal, remember?”
Mercer said, “Which I regret more every minute.”
Cam smiled. “What did the owners of this fine establishment report missing?”
He replied, “They couldn’t tell if anything was stolen. There was too much damage.”
She rolled her eyes. All that grief for nothing. Good thing she was born stubborn or this little hide-and-seek game could get frustrating.

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