Shadow Shifters: Shifter's Claim Part 10

Jacques turned from him then, focusing his gaze on the monitors once more. "Clear as ice, sir," was his stony reply.

Bas didn't slam the door to his office, that would have been futile. He didn't swipe all the papers from his desk, curse a blue streak, or even growl like his kind was used to doing. As angered as he was by Jacques's words of killing Priya, he wouldn't let it show. He couldn't.

Sitting at his desk, he switched on his computer and waited. Elbows planted on the desk blotter, hands folded, he let his forehead fall into his palms. In and out, he breathed slowly, not counting down from one hundred because that tended to irritate him more than help. Instead he focused on the air around him, the intake and expulsion, his lungs inflating and deflating. Focus.

On that last intake of breath his teeth clenched. He could still smell her. Not the jasmine or hibiscus or the simply alluring scent he'd first lifted from her that night in the hotel, but her essence. It was the barest, most primal part of her and he could still smell it on his hands even though he'd stopped to wash them after leaving her in the spa. Inhaling deeply he let the scent waft through him and closed his eyes.

"Dammit!"

His palms flattened on the desk loudly.

Focus, he reminded himself. Just f.u.c.king focus.

His fingers moved quickly over the keyboard until his e-mail box was up displaying over one hundred unread messages. The first one he clicked on was from Jacques. It was Priya's background report. He read it word for word, twice. Then cursed again.

None of this was news to him. She was a reporter, the youngest of four children, struggling financially, but living the life she'd always wanted to live. Or so it appeared. There had to be something, a big-a.s.s something that would make her act recklessly enough to pursue a story that wasn't authorized by her boss and to risk her life.

There were three more attachments to the e-mail, one that was a list of IP addresses and locations. Another that showed an e-mail that had been sent to [email protected] from

They must be exposed. Deadline: 60 days Bas looked away from the computer to the desk calendar and counted from the date of the e-mail forward. Twenty-two days left. Now there was a rumble in his chest, his fingers curled into a fist, and his temples throbbed. Somebody was threatening her to expose them, the question was who and why.

Just as he was about to dedicate some time to trying to figure that out there was a knock at his door.

"Come in," Bas said, pressing a b.u.t.ton to clear his computer screen.

"Got something for you, boss," Dana Booth said as he stepped into his office.

The ma.s.sage therapist was also a shadow s.h.i.+fter and a d.a.m.n good researcher as well.

Bas signaled him to come in and waited until he was seated across from him before replying, "What did you find?"

"The s.h.i.+pment came from the lab, just like the labels said. As far as I could trace they left the Comastaz facility one week ago; the refrigeration apparatus built into the crates was only good for seven days. The samples needed to make it to their destination by then or risk contamination."

"So they're no good now?" Bas asked, not sure why but not altogether pleased by that a.s.sessment.

Dana shook his head. "No good now. But somebody at that lab put a trace on those crates. See, at first they were s.h.i.+pped through UPS to an address in Mexico. Then back to the US with the drugs and guns."

"Why?" Bas asked immediately. "Why s.h.i.+p crates of blood from the US to Mexico then back to the US again?"

"That's where I come up short. My thought is we need to get somebody into Comastaz to get some definitive answers. Unless one of those b.u.t.theads in the bunker starts giving up some real information."

Bas was almost positive he'd gotten all the information he was going to get from them. They couldn't tell what they didn't know and it made sense that they weren't trusted with all the pertinent information. After dismissing Dana and thanking him for the information, Bas sat back in his chair, thinking about how f.u.c.ked up things were becoming on the s.h.i.+fter front and how one woman was once again turning him inside out. He let loose a roar that may have startled the resort guests if he hadn't ensured that his office was soundproof and situated at the farthest end of the floor.

Inside his cat paced impatiently and Bas, against the training he'd implemented years before, let it roam. He allowed the pus.h.i.+ng and felt the crack of bones as the partial s.h.i.+ft took over. It wasn't something they did often, but his restraint and patience had taught the cat this type of obedience, this yielding to the human form that Bas had required after Mariah's death.

His elongated teeth p.r.i.c.ked his bottom lip, eyes dilated until he knew they were no longer gray but golden yellow. He roared again, pus.h.i.+ng away from his desk to go and stand at the window. It was growing dark outside even though he had no idea how long he'd been closed in here. The cat wanted to run, it wanted to hunt, to kill whoever was threatening Priya. Bas needed to find out who that was first, he needed to find that out before he did anything else, before she found proof of their existence and before Rome ordered her death.

Chapter 15.

She was in his room, again. Locked in, even if discreetly and it was partially her fault this time. After Bas had left her naked and unfulfilled on the table in the spa she'd hurriedly dressed and opened the door to go after him. Only to run face-first into the wide, hard chest of a man with a squared jaw and a tribal tattoo wrapped around his neck.

"I'll take you upstairs, ma'am," he'd said in a robotic tone.

"No, thank you. I know my way," she'd said, then tried to move around him. She should have known that wasn't going to work since he almost blocked the entire doorway with his spread-leg stance and bodybuilder-like physique. A body that should have aroused her, considering the nerve-wracking point she had approached with her celibacy endeavor. But there was nothing, only the low hum of being jilted by the infamous Sebastian Perry.

"I will take you," he continued as he stepped to the side to let her pa.s.s, and then quickly moved to stand beside her once she was in the hallway. "Mr. Perry's orders."

Of course, she thought, frowning at his words. "You follow all of Mr. Perry's orders?" Everybody around here seemed to do whatever that man said.

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am, I do."

"Why?" she demanded, then softened her voice a little. "I mean, do you work for the resort or Mr. Perry personally?"

There was no immediate response and Priya thought he might not answer her at all. When she looked over to him he seemed to be contemplating what to say.

"Does Mr. Perry dictate your answers too?"

He did something then that shocked her. He smiled, a wide toothy grin that gave this large muscled man a mischievous little-boy look that reminded her of Malik.

"He does not dictate anything. I just do my job," he told her.

"And right now your job is to escort me up to his room and lock me inside. Am I correct?" she continued when they'd walked through the reception area of the spa, out the double doors that led into the resort.

"My job is to make sure you are safe until he returns."

"Oh, like a bodyguard? I've never had my own private bodyguard before." Her fake exuberance did not appear to be lost on him, but it obviously did not change his course.

He shook his head. "Then I guess I'm honored."

Once inside the elevator she looked the man up and down once more. He wasn't her enemy, she thought drably. He wasn't the man who'd driven her desire up so high and so fast she thought she might actually die when the release finally hit her, then left her there looking and feeling like a fool. He was just doing his job and she was taking her s.e.xual frustrations out on him.

"What's your name?" she asked. "Or are you allowed to tell me?"

"I'm Paolo."

He spoke like he wanted to say more but was maybe being forced not to. That might be taking things a little too far, she thought, since there was no one here to actually stop him from talking.

"Nice to meet you, Paolo," was her simple reply.

From there Priya had chosen not to fire off any more questions about Bas or the staff. Mostly because she knew he wasn't going to give her any of the answers she hoped for. The fact was Bas was clearly the boss here at Perryville. He was the boss and he was the only man that had ever aroused her and left her hanging, which she feared was a bigger issue than his staff refusing to give up any dirt about him.

Still, she'd been amused as they approached the door to Bas's suite and she wondered how they would get in. Standing close and watching his every move, she asked, "Don't tell me you don't have a key," she quipped.

Paolo turned to her then, giving her a breathtaking smile that might have stopped the heart of another woman, but paled in comparison to Bas's reserved allure. "I have a temporary code," was his reply.

Priya nodded as he turned his attention back to the control panel, watching every b.u.t.ton he pushed, filing the information away for later use.

Now, here she was once again in the room that had secret doors and computers with basically no information on them. Light switches she couldn't find, windows that had no latches, automatic mini-blinds that worked on anyone else's command but hers. And just because she was already thinking that things couldn't get any worse, her cell phone chirped.

A few seconds later Priya was mumbling something to herself, dropping her head into her hands, and sighing. Lolo couldn't trace the e-mails, not even the one she'd received just yesterday. So she still had no idea who was blackmailing her. Two weeks ago they'd sent her a picture of Malik. He'd looked okay, disgruntled and probably angry as h.e.l.l at being held captive. But she had no idea where he was.

Coming here was supposed to help him. It was supposed to lead her to the answers they wanted. Instead, courtesy of the reputed playboy, she'd been sucked into his spell, letting him touch her and take her to higher heights than she'd ever reached before. She'd thought it would help break down his barriers, but she didn't know any more now than she'd known before. Obviously she wasn't good at the s.e.x-in-exchange-for-information work ethic, either.

In twenty-two days her brother would be killed and her mother would be devastated. Priya would be a failure both on the professional and the familial fronts. And then what?

"Dammit!" she cursed, replying to Lolo's text with quick keystrokes.

Pausing, she reached farther into her purse and pulled out that business card. She was texting him the e-mail address and telephone number of Agent Dorian Wilson. She wanted him to send the e-mail message to the FBI. If she couldn't save Malik, maybe the Feds could.

With that done, Priya also admitted that it was time for her to leave Perryville. Bas wasn't going to give her any information she needed, no matter his "trust me, I can help you" routine. It was all a part of his seduction. It was that reputed seduction that had garnered him so many women and his infamous reputation. Besides that, he would never betray Roman Reynolds, the same way none of his employees here would ever betray him. She found her other bag and pulled out some clean clothes. The first thing she needed to do, desperately because this scent that hovered over her was driving her mad with rage, was take a hot shower to rinse his traitorous touch from her skin. Then, she was getting the h.e.l.l out of this room; if she had to break through a window to get someone's attention, she was leaving Perryville Resorts tonight!

It was quiet in his room when Bas returned, blissfully so. During the entire ride up the five floors to his penthouse suite his mind had buzzed with words like human, rogue, b.r.e.a.s.t.s, guns, blood, sweet, wet, drugs, until he was sure his fist would connect with the wall at any moment. Squeezing the bridge of his nose as he stepped off the elevator, Bas reached for focus once more, for balance. Two things that had been hard as h.e.l.l to come by in the years since he'd returned from the Gungi.

Memories of that night had a.s.sailed him on a regular basis, and then, each time he opened or closed his eyes he'd see hers-blue eyes, light and helpless, and soulless because of him. On the heels of his parents' divorce, not being able to save Mariah had been devastating to Bas. It had also been the catalyst to his rebirth, or should he say the emergence of the man he was today. The fearless and shrewd businessman who never took no for an answer and never did anything half-a.s.sed. On a good day he was flawless, on a bad one, he was still better than the vast majority of a.s.s-kissing backstabbers in the business. As far as the a.s.sembly went, he was a h.e.l.l of a fighter and a leader, as recognized by his appointment to Faction Leader. He was also a loyal friend to Rome and had pledged his allegiance to him eternally.

Or until the moment the leader asked him to kill Priya.

Then, they were definitely going to have problems.

As he walked into the suite he couldn't come up with the words to explain why he felt so protective of her, or why he wanted so desperately to harbor the one person on this earth at the moment that could do the most harm to his people. She could destroy them all with one story, one revelation, and then where would they be? The staunchest and fiercest rule of the etica was their autonomy, because it not only prevented the s.h.i.+fters from having to go into a defensive mode among the human world but it also protected the humans from the unknown that would surely be the death of them. With that said, was it fair not to give them the heads-up that there was another race living amongst them, a very deadly-if-provoked race at that? Priya had posed that question to him last night and Bas had been haunted by her words ever since.

You don't think we have a right to know if something else is out there? If we need to protect ourselves?

Everyone had a right to protect themselves, Bas thought. He just never really considered the fact that the humans would need to protect themselves from the shadows because a huge part of Rome's platform as leader was for their kind to live peacefully amongst the humans. Which, Bas had to figure, would make it slightly harder for Rome to immediately order Priya's death. They would be knowingly killing a human. Even if that act would save their tribe. His temples throbbed as he sympathized with each party in this argument. Unfortunately, his birthright dictated he reside confidently on one side over the other.

When he arrived in his suite he realized Priya was in the tub. And for Bas, at that very moment, nothing else seemed to matter. He moved through his private living s.p.a.ce based on memory alone as he wasn't actually seeing anything that was there, just moving until he stopped at the bathroom door. It was open because he was sure she didn't know how to close it. Everything in his rooms operated on a remote that responded only to his touch. Jace and Cole had thought the innovative technology was over the top and vain, just as they often described him, but Bas had implemented it for the security and privacy benefits. Maybe he'd had the forethought that there would come a time when someone would be in his personal s.p.a.ce looking for any d.a.m.ning information they could find on him.

When he'd had the bathroom designed Bas had thought going with the stained concrete floors and floating cabinets was a great idea. The marble sink and countertops had been one of his favorite aspects of the room. But tonight, none of those amenities fazed him. Seeing her just a few feet away sitting in the s.p.a.cious, oversized spa bathtub that adorned each of the suites in Perryville, surrounded by big fluffy bubbles was the absolute highlight of this s.p.a.ce. Folding his arms over his chest, Bas leaned against the counter, settling in to watch her until ... well, until that became too much torture to bear.

She seemed not to notice his arrival as she lifted a mocha-toned leg into the air, using a loofa sponge to pour water over that limb. Bas swallowed deeply. When she did the same with the next leg, he lifted a hand to rub a finger along the line of his jaw. Next came her arms, one first, then the other, water cascading down over her shoulders and neck in lovely rivulets that made Bas more than a little envious. Her head tilted back as she held that sponge above her neck and squeezed so that a splash of water drizzled down the long, enticing curve of skin.

His d.i.c.k was rock hard, pressing painfully against the zipper of his pants. At his sides his fingers, sans the claws that had been there only about thirty minutes ago as he'd stood in his office, clenched and unclenched with the desperate need to touch her. The scented bubbly water did nothing to ease the intensity of her personal aroma and on each inhale desire filtrated throughout his body.

She knew he was there, knew he was watching. That knowledge came quick, like a slap, to be followed up by a smirk.

"Look all you want," she spoke finally. "But your touching privileges are revoked. Permanently," she continued with a stony look over her shoulder.

"Get dressed," was all he said to her. "I ordered dinner to be brought to the room."

She stopped bathing and stared at him incredulously. "I'm not staying."

Another slap to his face. Bas was not having a good night and when he didn't have a good night, his cat didn't have a good night and that could lead to all types of chaos. So he gritted his teeth and looked at her-at her dark brown eyes and firmly set lips. He did not look to the remnants of soap and bubbles running down her shoulders and her chest, creating a path between the plump globes of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"We're having dinner and we'll talk about you staying." That was the best he could do. Especially since what he really wanted to do was grab her from that tub and slip his d.i.c.k deep into her p.u.s.s.y, which he knew was still hot and waiting for him.

This was not working for him. Being this close and not touching her, not tasting her was harder than not breathing. So instead of continuing what he thought was a pointless conversation with her, he turned and walked out of the bathroom. All the while he breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't stood up to confront him. All his blessed control and focus would have surely been lost at that point.

Priya smiled at his retreating back. He'd been watching her. She'd heard the moment he stepped into the bathroom and thought she couldn't have planned that little performance any better. Once she knew she had an audience-a very captive one at that-she'd given him a little show. He deserved to be teased after he'd done that and then some in the spa.

Unfortunately, he'd bailed before the grand finale, but that was fine, her leaving Perryville could have the same effect. If she thought for one crazy moment that she meant anything more to Sebastian Perry than the nuisance reporter that wanted to know his secrets, she was in for a rude awakening. Luckily for her she didn't think that, it was crazy to a.s.sume, to even consider that a man like Bas would want ...

He didn't want anything from her and neither did she from him. That's what she told herself while toweling off and reaching for the simple paisley-print sundress that she slipped over her head and s.h.i.+mmied past her hips. It wasn't Vera w.a.n.g but it was cute and it hugged her in all the right places. If she were trying to catch the infamous Mr. Perry, she could give some of those fancy-schooled and even fancier-dressed women a run for their money, easily.

"Good thing I'm not trying," she quipped then looked into the mirror, fluffing the top of her hair. The sides were beginning to grow out so she switched on the water to wet the tips of her fingers then patted it down. After a resolute sigh she reminded herself that this was all pointless; she wasn't here to seduce Bas, and she definitely wasn't going to stick around long enough for him to finish seducing her. With that thought in mind she headed out of the bathroom.

Right into an empty bedroom.

And an empty living room.

Where the h.e.l.l had he gone?

She was just about to head back into the bedroom when a whoos.h.i.+ng sound signaled one of the floor-to-ceiling windows sliding open. This entire s.p.a.ce was full of gadgets, secret doors, lights illuminating on some silent command. It all made her think of a man with too much money to spend and too much time on his hands. Or an obsessively irritating version of both.

"What do you have against doork.n.o.bs and well, real doors?" she asked because the whole Bruce Wayne vibe she was getting from his resort to his private living quarters was beginning to rub her the wrong way.

He wore dark gray slacks and leather shoes, the s.h.i.+rt a pullover this time, yet it still lay over his broad shoulders and muscled biceps as if the designer knew Bas was going to be the one wearing it.

"I've set dinner up outside. It's a nice night and I thought you'd like to enjoy it," he told her.

"That would sound nice if I planned to stay for dinner. But I'm not. I'm leaving," Priya replied, rubbing her hands together as she moved toward where he stood.

He sighed as if he were tired even though his body didn't give way to any of the usual exhaustion symptoms-slumped shoulders, weary eyes, slight frown. No, he still looked perfect, d.a.m.n him. "Can we just have dinner first? If you still want to leave after that, we'll work something out."

This was new, she thought. It wasn't an order, but a request, and it was sincere and almost humble. He'd never spoken to her that way, never looked to her the way he was right now. "Why?" she asked.

He rubbed a hand over his light mustache, down around his chin. "I'd like to have dinner with you, Priya. Would you please join me?"

d.a.m.n, she should have had her cell on record or she should have had her tape recorder out to memorialize this moment. She was sure none of those other females had ever been asked to dinner like this by him, or at least telling herself that made her a little giddy.

"My flight leaves at ten thirty," was her lame response.

He nodded and came to stand directly in front of her. "We've got time," he said.

Priya swallowed, loving the scent that always seemed to surround him. It was musky, and earthy and fresh and just d.a.m.ned arousing.

"And for the record..." He leaned forward and whispered into her ear, "There are plenty of doors in this room, you just have to know where to look to find them."