sucking cigar smoke and bad cologne into her lungs. She had a headache from trying to sort through the other scents and was getting meaner with every jostle. Jumbled music thrummed through the walls, floors, and patrons, making for a slurry of chaos. It wasn’t helping her mood.
Their suspect had been spotted here thirty minutes ago by an XCEL informant. She tried to squeeze between two humans who didn’t feel like moving until they noticed Mercer behind her and let her through. She glanced behind her and caught her breath. Mercer’s face was intense and fierce as he stared down the men who blocked her way.
She turned around before he saw her, surprised by the possessiveness he radiated. No man had ever looked like that for her. Maybe he was just doing his job, protecting his mission. It was no secret how much he wanted this and what he’d give up to get it. She was simply a vehicle. The thought didn’t bother her. Any pride she had had been lost years ago. It was a Shifter thing.
She moved from the front of the bar to the back and spotted their man sitting at a booth with three other Shifters. He wore a gray hooded sweatshirt that he had pulled down over his head. His skin was brown, and he had distinctly Latino features. The name they had on him was John Smith. Not exactly original.
Mercer stopped her about fifteen feet away from the booth, which was the best position they could get in the crowded joint. Cam was trying to figure out how to move close enough to check the suspect’s scent when Mercer slipped his arm comfortably around her waist to pull her against him. He nestled his mouth against her hair and whispered, “You see him?”
“What are you doing?” she asked, stunned by his sudden and totally unexpected touch.
“Trying to be quiet. I know that’s difficult for you.”
Her senses were taking a serious turn toward Mercer, absorbing every part of him. She could play along too. “Yes, I see him. But I need to get closer to identify him. This place smells like urine.”
Mercer turned them a bit so he could get a better look at the suspect. The movement sent a whole new set of sensations across her skin. Cam realized that no one was even paying any attention to him or her. They were embraced like any other couple in love. They belonged here. She’d never belonged anywhere before. It felt nice, and yet, terrifying.
Mercer said, “This is not a good place to approach him. We’ll wait him out.”
He was right about that. The suspect wouldn’t be happy when they tried to talk to him. And in a tight place like this, that’d be trouble. Mercer stepped back and took her by the hand as he led them to a quiet spot in the back where they could watch their man. The lamp over a pool table was the only tangible light in the vicinity, so it was dark, at least by human standards.
Mercer eased her against his chest. Cam put her hands out instinctively and then rested them on his jacket.
“Easy,” he said low.
“What are you doing ?” she asked in no uncertain terms.
He kept his gaze on the bar area. “If we order a drink, I won’t be able to handle him. Especially if he brings his friends along.”
He’d had only one drink tonight, but she was getting the feeling that he drank a lot. Of course, if she worked for Harding, she would too.
“And if we drink soda, we’ll get beat up,” he added with a rare smile.
Cam burst out laughing. “So that leaves groping me?”
He finally looked down at her. She was a few inches shorter than he was, but it still felt too close. His mouth curled. “Think of it as being handled.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Really? Is this how you handle everyone?”
His focus intensified, and her belly fluttered a little.
“That’s dangerous territory, Cam,” he said softly.
She moved a fraction of an inch closer. “Chicken.”
Time ticked by one heartbeat at a time as she waited. She shouldn’t provoke him, but he was buttoned up so tight by XCEL, Harding, and
Their suspect had been spotted here thirty minutes ago by an XCEL informant. She tried to squeeze between two humans who didn’t feel like moving until they noticed Mercer behind her and let her through. She glanced behind her and caught her breath. Mercer’s face was intense and fierce as he stared down the men who blocked her way.
She turned around before he saw her, surprised by the possessiveness he radiated. No man had ever looked like that for her. Maybe he was just doing his job, protecting his mission. It was no secret how much he wanted this and what he’d give up to get it. She was simply a vehicle. The thought didn’t bother her. Any pride she had had been lost years ago. It was a Shifter thing.
She moved from the front of the bar to the back and spotted their man sitting at a booth with three other Shifters. He wore a gray hooded sweatshirt that he had pulled down over his head. His skin was brown, and he had distinctly Latino features. The name they had on him was John Smith. Not exactly original.
Mercer stopped her about fifteen feet away from the booth, which was the best position they could get in the crowded joint. Cam was trying to figure out how to move close enough to check the suspect’s scent when Mercer slipped his arm comfortably around her waist to pull her against him. He nestled his mouth against her hair and whispered, “You see him?”
“What are you doing?” she asked, stunned by his sudden and totally unexpected touch.
“Trying to be quiet. I know that’s difficult for you.”
Her senses were taking a serious turn toward Mercer, absorbing every part of him. She could play along too. “Yes, I see him. But I need to get closer to identify him. This place smells like urine.”
Mercer turned them a bit so he could get a better look at the suspect. The movement sent a whole new set of sensations across her skin. Cam realized that no one was even paying any attention to him or her. They were embraced like any other couple in love. They belonged here. She’d never belonged anywhere before. It felt nice, and yet, terrifying.
Mercer said, “This is not a good place to approach him. We’ll wait him out.”
He was right about that. The suspect wouldn’t be happy when they tried to talk to him. And in a tight place like this, that’d be trouble. Mercer stepped back and took her by the hand as he led them to a quiet spot in the back where they could watch their man. The lamp over a pool table was the only tangible light in the vicinity, so it was dark, at least by human standards.
Mercer eased her against his chest. Cam put her hands out instinctively and then rested them on his jacket.
“Easy,” he said low.
“What are you doing ?” she asked in no uncertain terms.
He kept his gaze on the bar area. “If we order a drink, I won’t be able to handle him. Especially if he brings his friends along.”
He’d had only one drink tonight, but she was getting the feeling that he drank a lot. Of course, if she worked for Harding, she would too.
“And if we drink soda, we’ll get beat up,” he added with a rare smile.
Cam burst out laughing. “So that leaves groping me?”
He finally looked down at her. She was a few inches shorter than he was, but it still felt too close. His mouth curled. “Think of it as being handled.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Really? Is this how you handle everyone?”
His focus intensified, and her belly fluttered a little.
“That’s dangerous territory, Cam,” he said softly.
She moved a fraction of an inch closer. “Chicken.”
Time ticked by one heartbeat at a time as she waited. She shouldn’t provoke him, but he was buttoned up so tight by XCEL, Harding, and
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