“Carmen’s gone on one of her disappearances,” Maddie said, relieved. “But I’d love to meet up with you for a drink at Broken Chains when you have time. I need to talk to you about something.”
“I hope that’s not as serious as it sounds,” Shayla teased. “Either way, you know I’m full of advice, whether needed or not. Can you make it tonight around eight?”
“Perfect. I’ll get there early to snag our usual table.”
After ending the call, Maddie felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from her chest. Even though her friend wasn’t Pack, Shayla understood all too well the intricate nature of keeping their truths hidden from humans. Heck, Maddie wouldn’t have minded if Shayla brought Zach, her husband. Since Zach was also Pack, Maddie would definitely welcome his input, though she wouldn’t have been able to speak as freely if it were just her and Shayla.
Trying not to look at the clock too often, Maddie caught up on housework, went grocery shopping and checked her email. She heated up leftover pizza for her dinner, reapplied her makeup and tried to decide what outfit to wear. In the end, she went with a simple black skirt and light green sheer top over a black camisole. Though she usually wore ballet slipper–type flats, she tried on a pair of heels. In the end, she discarded them and slipped on her usual comfy shoes.
Dangly silver earrings and several cute bracelets and she was out the door an hour early. As was her habit, she parked near Pier 21 and walked back in the direction of the bar. The salt-scented sea breeze felt warm and familiar, reminding her how long it had been since she’d visited the beach. Now that tourist season was over, she needed to go. Fall was always a good time, even though her favorite time to meander down the sand was winter, when the colder water kept even most locals away.
As she strolled toward the bar, she found herself wondering where Jake hid when he did his surveillance. He’d claimed to have spent weeks watching the dead-end alley, but for the life of her she couldn’t see where. This time, she’d pay special attention to her surroundings and see if she could spot him.
When she reached the alley, she slowly pirouetted. Regular protocol demanded those entering the alley check left and right, making sure no humans were in the vicinity before proceeding to the door. Now, in addition to that, she realized the abandoned warehouse across the street still had numerous windows that had not been boarded up, some with shattered glass. It would be a simple thing for someone like Jake to gain entrance and set up a camera in one of those windows. In fact, for all she knew he might be there right now.
Refusing to wave, she finally made her way down the alley, knocked on the weathered door and waited. After a moment, it swung open and she stepped inside, then waited until it closed automatically behind her.
Because she was Shifter, the smells hit her first. Smoke and beer and whiskey, along with the various scents of other bodies. Next came the noise. Even though the band had not yet started playing, there was the low hum of voices, the clinking of glass and silverware, the scraping of chairs on the old wooden floor.
She sighed with pleasure. Of all the places she frequented on the island, this bar felt the most like home.
Wending her way through the crowd, she smiled when she saw Jason, her favorite bartender, had placed a small Reserved sign on her favorite table.
Waving at him, she took a seat. Immediately, he brought her a tall glass of wheat beer, her usual. She told him Shayla would be joining her, but not Carmen, and he nodded, whistling cheerfully as he walked off.
A shadow fell and she looked up, smiling. Her smile faded as she realized it wasn’t her friend. Instead, a tall, muscular male Shifter stood glowering down at her.
“I’m not interested,” she started to say, then gasped when he grabbed her arm in a painful grip.
“We need to talk,” he said. “You’ve been seen with that human reporter. I’m a Pack Protector. I don’t think I need to warn you of the severity of your crime against the Pack if you’ve revealed anything to him.”
* * *
Nothing could have prepared him for the way Maddie affected him. After all, Jake considered himself like a bulldog. Once he fixated on a story, nothing got in his way. Nothing.
Not even a sexy redhead with a smattering of freckles across her nose. Then why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?
When he’d asked to hire her, he hadn’t expected her to eventually agree. After all, he knew she had secrets and they were tied in with whatever was behind that damn door. If his investigative reporting uncovered something illegal, something dangerous, he had to be prepared to take her down, too. This knowledge made his stomach churn.
Especially since he knew it could be worse than he’d originally suspected. When he’d seen the news of the explosion in a warehouse near Pier 21, he’d immediately thought of them, the mysterious group of individuals who met behind that strange old door.
Especially when, without any proof, the anchorman speculated that this might have been a terrorist attack. He’d said this as casually as if speaking about the weather. Sloppy reporting, Jake knew. Yet of course, this possibility made him wonder. Terrorists. What if a local cell of them met in that place along that dead-end alleyway? That would explain the reason for refusing to open the door and for the two men to jump him there.
No. He refused to play a guessing game. His journalistic integrity demanded facts. Without them, he had nothing.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized Maddie Kinslow might be his best chance at getting an actual lead.
He pulled out the business card she’d given him. The Shadow Agency was emblazoned across the top. Underneath that, A specialized private investigation firm. And then simply her name and phone number.
Specialized. In what? He turned the card over in his hand. To be fair, she’d tried to tell him her company handled only a certain type of clientele, though she hadn’t been specific.
Deciding, he pulled out his phone and dialed her number. His call went straight to voice mail. He left his name and number, nothing else. Now to see if she’d actually return the call.
When his phone rang five minutes later, his heart leaped in his chest. “That was quick,” he said after answering.
“Yeah, well...I’ve been worried about you.” She made the confession in a husky voice that had his body stirring.
Ruthlessly, he tamped down the desire. “Don’t,” he snapped. “I’m fine. I just need a little time to heal and I’ll be back to normal.”
To his surprise, this statement made her chuckle. “I’ll never figure out what it is about men that they think they have to be so tough. You forget, Jake. I was there. I saw you.”
Instead of replying, he let his silence speak for itself.
“Okay,” she said when he didn’t respond. “What did you need? Why did you call me?”
Though he’d already begun to doubt the wisdom of his decision, he decided to go through with it. “I want to hire you.”
Now she went quiet. He waited her out.
“For the same reason as before?” she finally asked. “Because you want me to help you find out what’s behind the door?”
“Yes.”
She sighed. “Are you absolutely certain you truly want to continue to pursue this? Because I can tell you this—it’s dangerous. As in, you could lose your life, dangerous.”
Deep down, he’d suspected as much, but hearing her confirm it made his gut twist. “Are you involved in whatever it is?” he asked.
“I can promise you, whatever you think you know is wrong,” she said, without answering his question.