Jack, page 11
part #2 of Hunted Shifters Legacy Series
Damn it. Lemuel must’ve been pestered to tell.
“It’s interesting, Jack,” Killian continued, voice and expression pleasant but very much insincere. “Because you have a pretty great place to work at in your apartment, and I don’t see any reason for you to be staying with her. She’s not in any danger, anyway, which makes me wonder if there’s something I’m missing here…”
The rat bastard probably thought Jack was investigating on his own and not reporting to his head—which, to Killian’s mind, was him. There was no way Jack could tell this man that he was here mostly for two things: because it was comfortable, and because it gave him easier access to her frequency device and a better chance at finding the killer. It was her secret, directly connected to her skill. Directly connected to the supernatural world, too.
But he needed to get Killian to leave, fast.
Before he could come up with an excuse, a cheerful voice flitted in his ears.
“Good morning. I couldn’t help but overhear that your name was Killian. Detective Killian, am I right?”
“That’s right. Detective Killian Malkovich of the Crime Investigation Department, Homicide Division. You must be Kitty O’Hara.”
To her credit, Kit didn’t wince at the name but simply beamed at him. Jack remained quiet, wondering where she was going with her sudden appearance.
He stilled when she slipped her arm around his back, a casual gesture that made it appear as if she’d been doing this too many times to count.
And he knew where this was going.
“Yes, yes, that’s me. And I couldn’t just stand here and let Jack appear guilty while he attempted to be noble and keep things from you.”
“Keep things from me?”
“Yes.” Kit squeezed Jack's back, which wasn’t necessary. It only made him aware of the heat there, and something else: nerves, hidden very well. “Jack’s being noble because he wants to keep me shielded from questions and scrutiny. And the only thing he’s keeping from you is the fact that we’re dating.”
Silence.
Astonishment flared in Killian’s eyes as if he hadn’t expected that at all. He eyed Jack, then eyed Kit, who stood on tiptoe and placed her lips on Jack’s cheek. Jack had to inwardly clench his jaw so as not to show any reaction. He watched as Killian took it all in, right before that scrutiny skimmed down. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack abruptly realized what the man was looking at: the bare stomach Kit had exposed as she’d tied her loose shirt in a knot, along with the visible expanse of her chest, which was surprisingly…substantial. Then there were the soft cotton shorts that exposed smooth, creamy legs. Too much, and too pretty.
Annoyed that the man was still staring, Jack’s hand snapped forward, pulling Kit closer. He gave extra care as he kept gliding his hand down, close to touching her butt. It turned scorching, her warmth and softness spreading over to him.
But it worked, as Killian followed the movement before turning slightly red and finally looking up.
“Killian, I’d like to keep my private life private, which is why I’m trying not to expose my relationship to the world. She’s not part of the investigation, and I’m going to make sure she and other innocent people are protected. But I’m still a cop, and my personal relationship with Kit isn’t going to interfere with my handling of the case. I’ve given you all the information I have.”
“I understand.”
A pause. “Was that all you needed from me?”
Killian visibly grimaced before turning pleasant again. “Yes. But I actually needed to talk to Kit, too.”
“She’s not a suspect.”
“She isn’t,” the man agreed easily. “But she can help us lure the suspect out.”
At that, Kit’s body jerked. Before she could respond, another voice interrupted their conversation.
“Kitty, are you here to bring me clients? Because you sure are crowding the hallway right now…”
Dean Samson came striding in with a smirk, which effectively died when he recognized Jack…then, when he saw the arm Jack had on Kit. Of course, those eyes still managed to round to her breast area, and Jack was instantly engulfed with the urge to punch.
“Or are you here to bring in lovers?”
Anger coursed in, but Kit’s hand squeezed his back again. The fact that she was so in tune with his emotions stunned him.
She beamed in Dean’s direction. “Actually, they’re both cops here to investigate some gruesome murders. Would you like to be added to the suspect list? I can direct them to your office.”
Dean paled, then began to blurt out reasons why he couldn’t be a suspect before booking it out of there. Jack fought back his smirk now as he watched the man hurry away, slamming his office door shut and leaving the hallway and lobby silent again.
Killian cleared his throat. “That was…”
“My ex,” Kit announced brightly. “An asshole, but he’s pretty harmless.” She turned her head in Jack's direction, and Jack did the same. Quietly, they eyed each other: her telling him something he couldn’t figure out, but he rubbed her back to let her know he would support her.
However, what she said next when she turned to Killian wasn’t what Jack expected at all.
“You said I can help lure the suspect out. Tell me how.”
* * *
The dressing room was small, with only four box spaces closed in by curtains and a waiting couch in the center. Mirrors surrounded the room, giving it a spacious illusion, but it only served to illuminate the harsh lighting.
Jack was trying his very best not to pace, but it was hard. Outside, Killian was waiting in his parked car, already set on putting his plan into action tonight before Kit could change her mind.
It was a stupid plan, and the only reason Jack was agreeing was because Killian had promised to stay out of the streets while it was in motion. That meant Jack got to watch over Kit, got the final say for it to stop.
That meant if tonight was unsuccessful, she could go back to her normal life, and Killian would be out of her hair.
“Are you still there? Is anyone else there?”
“Just me,” Jack replied. “Come out and let me see you.”
“It fits me well, but I’m not sure if it looks good, so don’t be too harsh on me…”
The curtain was parted to the side. Kit stepped forward, eyeing herself critically in the back mirror before she straightened her spine and turned to him.
Jack hadn’t stopped staring since the curtain had been parted, and he still couldn’t stop staring now.
“How do I look?” she asked nervously.
Pretty, his mind called out. So fucking pretty, it had to be illegal. The dress was black, sparkling, and fit her like a glove, showing off curves often hidden by her preferred fashion of loose or layered clothes. Because it was made of some stretchy material, it stretched over a substantial amount of butt…a substantial amount of breast, too, hitched up in round globes and accentuating the fact that her throat, shoulders, and neck were bare.
Highlighting creamy skin that went on for miles.
Fishnets completed the look, but she frowned at them and bent over to roll them down and expose even more leg. The fact that she did so in front of him gave him a tantalizing view of more cleavage, and he felt himself choke over whatever was stuck in his throat.
Saliva, most likely.
“What the hell are you doing?” he grunted, then cleared his throat.
“Removing the fishnets, they look too trashy,” she replied matter-of-factly. A triumphant expression blazed when she managed to get them off, and she began to dance around. That had the hem of her dress riding up, exposing soft upper thighs—
That had his cock twitching, an abrupt reaction that also had him shooting up and walking away.
“Jack?” she asked, startled at his sudden exit.
“Quit playing. You look good, and it’s time to go.” He went to the counter, paid for the purchase, and led her to the front entrance of the boutique, trying to calm his racing heart. Before they could step out, he realized she’d grown quiet and glanced back, only to find her looking nervous again. “Kit?”
“I look stupid, don’t I?” she blurted out, her cheeks turning pink in dismay. “That’s why you’re acting funny.”
Oh, if only she knew.
Unable to help it, Jack turned to face her and placed his fingers under her chin, ignoring the fascinating softness as he tilted her head up. Brown eyes met his, no contact lenses, an almost dark caramel color. He didn’t like sweets, true, but he could stare at those caramel eyes forever.
A dangerous thought, his mind warned him.
He gave her a stern look.
“I couldn’t look at you because I’m impatient, and I just want to get this over with—which I know is a mistake, because we have to be meticulous about this. You don’t look silly. Not at all, Kit.”
And he realized every word was true.
But not completely honest.
It seemed to ease her, though, as her eyes gentled, and she smiled up at him. It was a soft, almost lazy smile, the kind one would wear when they just got out of bed. Or when they—
“Thank you, Jack. For being such a great friend.”
Whatever thought process he had popped like a balloon, abruptly pulling him back to the present. Jack accepted it, drawing an inward breath. Awareness thickened, his hand dangerously close to sliding down that bare expanse of collarbone. He wanted to press his thumb there and see her reaction.
Instead, he removed his hand and gave her a reassuring nod.
“Of course. Now come on, before Killian changes his mind and decides to tag along with us to the streets. We can’t have rookies making this more complicated.”
With an amused grin, she nodded and followed him.
Chapter 15
This was a bad idea.
Never mind that Jack was on a lookout in his car, hidden in the shadows and ready to help in case it was needed.
Never mind that her earpod device was locked in her ear, and it was currently connected to her other earpod device in her home—which was turned on beside the frequency device currently locked in on Queens, allowing her to hear if there was a call for help.
Never mind that in her two hours roaming the area and pretending to be a vulnerable damsel exploring the city, nothing suspicious popped up.
Something was ticking—a clock, some internal timer that nagged at her brain and taunted her every attempt to calm down. Kit fought it, reminding herself she wasn’t alone, and she wasn’t helpless in this. She worked for a vicious clan, for goodness’ sake.
This was a piece of cake compared to clan troubles.
“Talk to me, Kit. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Not a single thing. This is the most boring stakeout, and I guess we should be thankful there’s no trouble. Talk to me, too. I haven’t gotten updates from your latest research.”
“I’ve researched the dagger and most of the materials tracing back to here, but I haven’t found any producers of that exact kind. Those I found were from different sources, and they’ve used the materials for different things: the wood for furniture, the silver for jewelry. No shady back businesses, either.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re trying to say?”
“Yes. Most possibly, our killer was the one who made the daggers. But Killian doesn’t agree and thinks I’m just not researching enough.”
The thought that someone could be so skilled in making weapons brought a shiver down her spine, and she tried to shake it off as she kept walking. Eyes peeled, Kit focused on the second statement.
“So what did you say to Killian to get him off our backs for now? Surely he would’ve wanted to be front and center in an exciting undercover stint.”
“I told him a brilliant mind like his shouldn’t be out doing measly activities like these, and that he should be inside an office where he could make further breakthroughs and bust high-level criminals.”
She grinned. “You didn’t.”
“He bought every word. The bastard was pleased about it, too.”
“You’re impressive, Jack.”
“That I am.”
“Also cocky,” she teased, rolling her eyes. Noises from a passing crowd had her pausing, right before she crossed the street and turned a corner to where larger buildings were located. There was a police car cruising by, stopping by a building stall that sold hotdogs.
There were figures hiding in the shadows, following the car in a subtle, methodical manner.
“Jack,” she said sharply, keeping her voice low.
“You found our guy?”
“No, but I think we have a nightwalker-cop situation about to happen here.”
“How many minutes?”
Kit studied the car, then the shadowed figures lurking by. “As soon as these cops buy their hotdogs and continue their cruise. They’re headed to Hodpodge Avenue, which is fairly new and doesn’t have that many finished buildings yet. There are a lot of abandoned ones, though.”
“Alright. Can you make a commotion?”
The firm, calm tone had her shoulders straightening.
“I’m on it.”
Putting on her coat, Kit strutted her way over to the cops, making sure her heels made loud sounds. When she was near, she increased those sounds by practically running over.
“Officers! Officers! I’m so glad I found you!”
She leaned against one of them, making sure her panic shone through. She then began pointing to the other end of the street.
“What’s wrong, miss?”
“I just came from the theater area down the corner building, and there’s this guy being a pervert and trying to molest the women inside the cinema! Can you please, please take care of him?” Her bottom lip trembled. “He tried to put his hands on me, too, and it was awful. I can’t imagine…there are teenage girls in there.”
It was more than enough to snap them to attention, and they were soon getting in their car and offering her a ride. Kit declined, then watched them leave towards the crowded area the theater was located at.
When the car was out of her line of vision, she became highly aware of the fact that the hotdog stall’s owner had gone to the back, the sounds of frying filling the air.
One of the shadows stepped forward, then started walking in her direction.
With a quiet curse, Kit started walking, too, away from the hotdog stall and towards the direction the cops went. Stupid, now that she thought about it, to refuse that ride. But she didn’t let her panic show as she kept going, using the streetlights as her ally and trying not to talk to Jack. Vampires had pretty sensitive hearing, and there was no point letting them in on the fact that she owned such high-tech devices and worked for a clan.
Up ahead, one of the streetlights flickered, making her pause.
Figures popped out: from the side building, from behind a tree. Too late, she realized they’d been following her, and this area was dark enough for them to carry on without outsiders seeing.
Fear spiked up her throat as the first hiss skirted down her spine.
Then she was pushed to the ground, her back used as a stepping stone before the crocodile went flying in the air, defying gravity and any standard crocodile movement. Jack, ramming with brute force towards two of the vampires and knocking them down. Jack, who fought off their fast response time and proceeded to wrestle for dominance with them.
The third didn’t join in, focusing on her instead. That made it three vampires—not a big number, but enough danger for her to tense, anyway. This third one’s skin was milky white, almost translucent, and the face was probably one of the prettiest Kit had ever seen. A civilized nightwalker, then, who probably thought it would be a good idea to prey on her and drain her blood out before moving on to their next victim. They’d leave enough blood to make it seem like any regular murder to keep their kind hidden.
Anger surged in her veins.
The vampire moved in a blur, fangs flashing as it targeted Kit’s bare neck. But Kit was already ready, pushing the weapon she held inside her coat towards the creature until it made contact with the creature’s stomach.
The effect was instantaneous: a great spark, followed by the female’s body lurching violently. The taser remained in Kit’s hand, but the vampire was now on the ground, hissing incessantly as her body became riddled with electric shocks.
Shock had Kit growing numb before the next hiss snapped her back to attention. She froze at the sight of blood, then stumbled back when one of the three wrestling figures jumped up and towards her.
Recognition flickered. Panic flared when one of the creatures attempted to follow him, leaving the unmoving one behind. It was close to Jack’s back, ready to attack.
She didn’t think as she ran towards them. With a grunt, she pushed the taser forward and watched as the vampire went flying in the air before sputtering to the ground. Kit didn’t have much time to recover before Jack was dragging her off. He was back in man form and eyeing the creatures in amazement.
“Run. We have to run,” she muttered.
“Yes.”
They ran.
When her heels wobbled, Kit cursed and removed them, then pounded on the pavement as if her life depended on it—perhaps it did, because she could see the figures she’d just tased already struggling to a standing position. Jack’s hand was on her back as he led her to his car, where she shimmied to the driver’s seat and floored it out of there. She heard rummaging in the back, tried to keep her eyes on the road as he got dressed.
“Keep driving straight. They saw your features, and it’s best not to lead them to your home. Mine’s safer for now. They only know my reptile form, and I’m getting rid of this car as soon as I can. You can work on a new look at my place.”
There was urgency in his tone, driving her to believe him. Nerves assaulted her and kept her going as she followed his directions, which led them to a slightly posher neighborhood than hers. He parked the car in a swanky building’s garage, then ushered her to the elevator. Once inside, Kit leaned against one side of the wall and felt her body sag in relief.
