The heavy oak door, scarred and weathered, looked like something out of a medieval castle. Above, a simple sign. No words, just a rusted iron bar from which hung two chain links, each half of what had once been whole. There were no lanterns, not even a streetlight to illuminate the shadows. The entrance sat near the end of a dead-end alley, innocuous enough that no soul, human or otherwise, would give it a second glance. Unless, of course, one knew what lay inside.
Maddie Kinslow usually preferred to take her time. Her slow and steady approach, sometimes viewed by others as reticence, enabled her to take full notice of her surroundings. When in her human form, her eyes were her primary tool, and when she shape-shifted into her wolf form, her nose took precedence over her other senses.
Tonight, with the moon a perfect sliver in the cloudless sky, she walked a little faster than normal, intent on reaching the dead-end alley that led to Broken Chains, the Galveston bar where only others of similar ilk were welcome. She, along with two of her best friends, had recently formed The Shadow Agency, a private investigative firm catering exclusively to Shape-shifters, Vampires and Merfolk. They’d recently successfully closed their first case and she’d gotten a lead that someone might be in the bar tonight who wanted to set up a meeting about becoming their second client.
Since Maddie lived and breathed her goal of making The Shadow Agency a success, her eagerness to meet with this individual had her practically running.
Until she stumbled over the bloody and beaten man halfway up the alley.
She tripped, caught completely by surprise, screamed once and fell. Right on top of the unfortunate human, who let out a guttural groan.
Naturally, she scrambled up, away from him. “What happened to you?” she asked, not even sure he could answer her. He appeared to have been on the losing side of a run-in with a semi truck. Digging her phone from her pocket, she realized she couldn’t call 911. Not from here, so close to the unmarked door. By spell or by due vigilance, it would never open, not for humans and not without potential death. To be safe and prevent any unnecessary curiosity, she needed to get this poor man out of the alley.
“I was beat up,” he said, his voice clear, despite the fact that his lip had been split. “Two big guys.”
“Were you robbed?”
“No.”
She watched in disbelief as he managed to heave himself off the ground to his feet. With one eye swollen shut, he squinted at her with the other.
“They went in there,” he said, pointing at Broken Chains’ unmarked door.
Heart pounding, she shook her head. “In where? There’s nothing around here but some old abandoned warehouses.”
“Lady, come on.” He swayed slightly as he took a step toward her. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I’ve been watching this place. I’ve seen you here before. What I want to know is what’s going on behind that door? People come and go all night. I don’t know what they do to get inside, but they do. I’ve tried, but no one will let me in.”
He had no idea what kind of danger he’d placed himself in. A human, trying to gain entrance to Broken Chains? Now she understood. A couple of the bouncers must have taken exception to him pestering them. In light of that, he was lucky he’d only been beaten rather than killed.
“You need to go somewhere else.” She didn’t even bother to try to hide the urgency in her voice. “It’s not safe here for you. Go away and forget you ever saw this door.”
Judging from the way he perked up, her heartfelt warning only made him more determined to stay. She eyed him—as far as human males went, he looked tough, with his broad shoulders and muscular build. But even the most fit human had no hope of fighting back against a Shape-shifter or Vamp. Both had power reserves of at least ten times those of any human.
Which explained why this guy’s swollen face made his features unrecognizable.
“I’m not going anywhere.” He crossed his arms, exposing purpling bruises and several small cuts that still oozed blood. In addition to the split lip and black eye, and judging from the multiple bruises and swelling, he’d been pummeled. Again, lucky to be alive, even if he didn’t get that. “My name is Jake Cassel. I’m an investigative reporter.”
“You can barely stand,” she pointed out. “I’d think you’d want to get yourself some medical assistance.”
“Good idea. I’ll dial 911 and when the paramedics arrive, I’ll ask for them to also send cops. I’m sure they can find out what’s behind that door.”
Exactly the situation she hoped to avoid.
“It’s not safe for you here,” she reiterated. “How about I walk you to my car and drive you to the ER?”
Her offer appeared to confuse him. “What? Why? You don’t know me. What if I turn out to be a predator? You’ll be alone with me.”
Of course she had no answer for that. She wasn’t about to tell him that as a full-blooded Shifter she knew she’d be safe. “I’ll be fine,” she finally replied. “I might even be willing to tell you what I know of that door.”
That finally got his attention. “Seriously?”
“You sound skeptical. I don’t blame you.” Somehow, she managed to keep herself from glancing at the still-closed door. “But I should also let you know that I expect those guys to come back at any moment.” And she did. “If they attack you again, which they will if they find you still here, they’ll kill you this time.”
While she had no idea if he believed her or not, he shuffled forward. “Give me your word,” he demanded. “Give me your word that you’ll tell me the truth about that door.”
“I’m Maddie Kinslow. You have my word.” And she would tell him. Because one thing she’d learned was to be very specific when relaying what one wanted. This human had asked for information about one item only—the door. She knew where it had come from, when it was installed, what kind of wood it had been made of and how often it was painted.
And a careful reciting of those facts was exactly what he’d get.
Driving as fast as she could without breaking the speed limit, Maddie soon pulled up in front of the ER at UTMB Health John Sealy Hospital. Despite his best efforts to remain alert, her passenger lost consciousness before they arrived. Well aware of how these human hospitals worked, she hoped Jake Cassel had his ID and an insurance card on him.
After leaving him in the car, she rushed inside and up to the triage window. “I found a man beaten on the sidewalk,” she said. “He wouldn’t let me call for an ambulance, but he allowed me to drive him here. He’s outside in my car, now unconscious. I need help getting him inside.”
If she expected a medical team to jump into action like they did on TV, she was wrong. The nurse simply nodded and told her she’d send someone out with a wheelchair in just a moment.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity but was in fact four minutes, an orderly appeared with a wheelchair. She led the way out the double doors to where she’d left her car parked, with the injured human in the front seat.
But the front seat was empty.
Cursing under her breath, she spun around. “He couldn’t have gone far,” she promised. “He was pretty beat up. And he lost consciousness on the way here.”
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