Inside Broken Chains, Carmen Vargas sat back in her chair, took a sip of her drink and surveyed the smoky room. As always, every table had been taken, and those without a seat stood shoulder to shoulder. Carmen had arrived early and claimed her usual prime spot near the back, close enough to have a view of the dance floor, but not so close that the loudness of the band would make any attempt at conversation impossible.
Her friends Maddie Kinslow and Shayla Dover-Cantrell usually met her here, but Shayla had recently gotten married and was just getting back from her honeymoon. The three of them had formed a supernatural private investigative agency and had recently successfully closed their first case. Carmen imagined Maddie had already gotten busy hustling for a second. Still, she was very late. Not like her. Carmen figured she’d give her a little bit longer before calling her friend’s cell phone.
“Have you got a minute?” The low growl of a masculine voice to her left had her betting he’d be a Shape-shifter. With a lazy movement, she swiveled her head to look. Damn. She, who never was shocked, sucked in her breath. Talk about hot. This guy had to be new. His aura revealed she was correct. Shape-shifter. And a damn good-looking specimen, too.
Exactly her type, if she’d had one. Tall, close-cropped dark hair, bright blue eyes, broad shoulders, narrow waist and muscular arms. He looked like a cop, or some other straight-laced profession. She’d learned from experience that those kinds of men were almost always the most fun in bed.
She let herself experience a delighted shiver before responding.
“Of course,” she purred, indicating the chair next to her. “Have a seat.”
He pulled out a chair and sat down, his bold stare frank and assessing. Confidence. She liked that in a man.
This evening had just gotten a thousand times more interesting. After so many centuries on the planet, Carmen rarely felt an overwhelming attraction like this.
“I work for the government,” he said. No surprise there. “And I’ve been talking to the Pack Protectors. They let me know about your Shadow Agency, operating right here in Galveston.”
A job. He wanted to discuss a job with her. Years of practice enabled her to hide her disappointment. She simply eyed him calmly while waiting for him to elaborate.
Instead, he glanced around. “Is there somewhere quieter we can talk? This is classified, so not information I’m comfortable shouting.”
She took a moment to consider, enjoying the way his gaze traveled over her. “Maybe later,” she finally said. “I’m waiting for a friend and I don’t want to lose our seat.”
His gaze narrowed and his mouth tightened. “This is a matter of national security.”
Though intrigued, she pretended not to hear him at first. Only when he leaned close, his mouth against her ear, and repeated himself, did she nod. “Perhaps you should make an appointment with our office. I’m certain you don’t want to discuss such a weighty matter in a bar.”
Instead of putting him in his place as she expected, a flash of annoyance sparked in his eyes. “This is urgent. I don’t have time to make an appointment. If you don’t want the job, just say so. I’m sure I can find someone else.”
Rueful, she conceded. “Wait. I’m interested. If you could just give me a few minutes until my friend arrives, I’ll find a quieter place where the two of us can talk.”
“Five minutes,” he said. “No longer.”
Clearly, he was the kind of man used to giving orders. She found this incredibly arousing. Most men were too intimidated by her frank and blatant sensuality. They tended to fall all over themselves trying to please her.
“Five minutes,” she agreed, smiling. Maddie had a tendency to run late, but never extremely so.
The allotted time passed. Still no Maddie. Handsome Guy eyed her and she knew he meant to leave.
“Come on,” she said, getting to her feet. “They have private rooms in the back. Let me see if I can secure one and we’ll go there and talk.”
He followed as she strolled to the bar. One glance over her shoulder showed no less than six people had rushed the table the instant she’d left. They’d have to duke it out among themselves over who ended up with it. Or share.
As luck would have it, she was able to rent a small room for half an hour. She sent Maddie a quick text to let her know where to go once she arrived, and then led the way through the double doors to the private part of the bar. She’d heard stories about some of the goings-on in these private rooms.
Stopping at room number 7, she used her key to unlock the door. “Here we are,” she said, entering. Handsome Secret Agent Man brushed past her and began looking around. As in, seriously searching for something. Fascinated, she watched, realizing he must be checking the room for recording devices.
When he finally finished, he turned to face her. “I’ll need your cell phone,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” she replied. “I’m not handing that over to a total stranger, just because he’s cute.”
Her choice of adjectives made him blink, but that was his only reaction. Disappointed, she pulled out a chair and sat. “You were about to tell me why you needed to hire me?”
“Not until I know for certain that you’re not recording,” he countered, stoned-faced. “At least put your phone on the table.”
“Are you serious?” she asked, even though she knew he was. With a sigh, she retrieved her phone from the depths of her Prada bag and placed it on the table.
“May I?” he asked, as he reached for it.
“You can look at it,” she replied. “But I want it back on the table once you’re done.” Though she had no idea what she’d do if he decided to drop it into his pocket. By virtue of being a Vampire, she had the elements of superspeed and strength on her side, but he was some kind of Shape-shifter, which made him a much more even match than, say, a human would have been.
Finally, he finished checking out her phone and placed it back on the table.
“My name is Rick Fallin,” he said. “I’m a member of a covert intelligence agency within the FBI. Our country is being threatened by terrorists and we need the help of someone with your credentials.”
“My credentials?”
“Yes. You are one of the top biowarfare scientists.”
She nodded. “True. But you could have approached me at the lab. Why here? Why ask for help from The Shadow Agency?”
“Because we need you for one other reason. You’re a Vampire. And as such, you’d be immune to a deadly, human-created virus.”
“You’re a Shape-shifter,” she shot back. “And if you’re full-blooded, you’re also immune.”
“We’re not sure about that,” he replied. “Let me explain. This is a completely new virus. We’re not completely sure of the effects it will have on the paranormal population.”
“Now I’m really intrigued,” she drawled. “I can’t wait to get a look at this thing.”
* * *
Though several of his colleagues had warned him that he’d take an immediate dislike to the Vampire woman, Rick Fallin discovered they were all wrong. Instead of the usual revulsion his kind normally felt around those of her ilk, he got a jolt of attraction every time he looked at Carmen Vargas instead. Which he struggled mightily to do as seldom as possible, aware he needed to focus on the job and only the job. This was far too important to mess up.
“A terrorist group has developed a new disease,” he said, once he had her full attention. “Not a known group, either. They call themselves Sons of Darkness.