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  “If you know something, you’re bound by your duty as Lead Guards to tell me now,” Rome said tightly. “Not to mention the fact that you’re as close to us as brothers. Nick deserves an explanation if you have one.”

  Ezra nodded. “You’re right, boss. Look, Seth called last night or early this morning, and said that X had taken her to his place. When he checked in this morning he said they were still there, had been all night.”

  The room was quiet and still except for the buzz of irritation that filled its space.

  “Okay, she’s with X so she’s safe,” Nick said, even though something about that statement seemed a bit off to him. “So get X on the phone and find out when they’re heading to Havenway.”

  Ezra nodded. “Right.”

  When the two guards left the room Nick stood for a few moments at the slim window looking out to the Great Falls National Park. That was where Havenway was located, deep within the park, hidden by dense trees and a small creek that almost gave the impression of their home in the Gungi. Well, not almost, but probably as close as they were going to get. The Virginia location was about an hour and a half away from their law firm in DC.

  “What are you thinking?” Rome asked.

  “Something’s not right,” Nick replied immediately. “Why didn’t he bring her back here? Why keep her in the city? And what the hell is she doing stripping?” He figured he’d be the one to approach the subject since he knew Rome was probably thinking it.

  When he turned to look at his friend he was rewarded with a look of relief on Rome’s face.

  “I wondered that myself. Do you know where she’s been for the last five years?”

  Nick rolled his neck, listened as muscles cracked with the effort, and tried to let his shoulders relax. “She didn’t say. I told X to look into it but he hasn’t gotten back to me with a report. I know she’s always loved to dance and was even enrolled in dance school before she left. This just doesn’t sound like Caprise.”

  Rome nodded. “She seems different now. I’ve noticed it in the weeks she’s been here.”

  “Ary’s been talking to her. She thinks Caprise is starting to adjust. But I don’t know,” Nick admitted.

  “She’s still not happy about being a shifter, that we all know for sure.”

  Nick shook his head. “She’s never been happy about that. I thought at least she’d come to terms with it by now. But she’s still in denial.”

  “Which isn’t good for us if there are Rogues roaming the streets, out for shifter or human blood,” Rome stated.

  “X was investigating Athena’s because Sabar’s savior drug was reportedly circulating there.”

  “You think she may be taking the drug?” Rome sounded skeptical but the question still stung.

  “No,” Nick replied adamantly. “She’s not on any drugs. I would know.” Or at least he thought he would.

  For the last few weeks he’d seen Caprise every day. Some days she looked almost happy and others she was sullen and agitated. Yesterday he remembered she’d made some remark about their parents and everyone having secrets. He’d been running late for work and so hadn’t stopped to ask her what the hell that meant. Now he wished he had.

  “It’s just a thought, man. I know she’s your sister but we’ve got to keep an open mind about this. I don’t believe in coincidences,” Rome said.

  “So the fact that Caprise was stripping at the same club X was investigating for the savior drug and they run into Rogues there is all connected?”

  “What do you think?” Rome asked.

  Nick sighed. “You’re right. It’s connected. I just hope—”

  His next words were cut off as his cell phone rang loudly. Reaching down to the case at his waist, Nick pulled the phone free and answered, “Delgado.”

  “Nick, it’s me, Caprise.”

  She was talking fast and she was whispering. Nick was instantly on alert.

  “Where are you? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m locked in the bathroom at X’s place. Some cop just came in talking about arresting him for murder.”

  “What?”

  “Just get over here as soon as you can!” she said. Then the line went dead.

  Rome had already stood and was glaring at Nick when he clicked off his phone.

  “What’s up?”

  “X is being arrested for murder,” he replied quizzically. Then he turned and quickly left Rome’s office.

  * * *

  The pounding at his door was incessant and irritating as hell. X rolled out of the bed cursing fluently as he moved through the condo, heading toward the door. He wasn’t wearing anything but the scowl he knew was on his face, and whoever was at his door at this ungodly hour deserved to get a damn eyeful.

  After disengaging the locks he pulled the door open and was shocked to see Agent Dorian Wilson standing on the other side.

  Agent Wilson was likewise shocked to see X in the state he was in, as witnessed by the widening of his eyes then the setting of his features.

  “Mornin’, Agent Markland. I need a word with you,” he said. “But I can wait until you’re a little more decent.”

  X stepped to the side, letting the agent into his home. No apologies, no words. He just let him in and stalked back to his room to throw something on. Caprise was still asleep, thankfully. The last thing he needed was her questions on top of asking himself why Agent Wilson was here in the first place—which, by the way, was a good goddamn question.

  He remembered this guy as the one Kalina had been working for to look into Rome’s financial dealings. His entire profile had come up in the database search he’d done on Kalina. He was a thirty-three-year-old native of the DC metropolitan area; single, two siblings and parents still living. Eight years with the DEA, army four years, three years MPD, and elevated to DEA after one major drug bust. Those were the immediate details coming to X’s mind. The question of the hour still remained: Why was he here in X’s apartment, right now?

  Upon his return to the living room he saw the agent studying one of the black-and-white pictures on his wall.

  “It’s South America,” he offered, crossing the room to take a seat on his couch.

  Agent Wilson nodded. “Been there recently?”

  “I’ve got family there” was X’s reply. “What can I do for you, Agent?” he asked because this small talk wasn’t going to work well for him.

  Wilson turned around, keeping his eye on X as he crossed the room to sit on one of the remaining chairs.

  “I have some questions for you, Markland.”

  Not Agent Markland, X noted. Suspicion wasn’t a scent X smelled often. But he knew it when it was circling around him like vultures over a carcass. With practiced ease X kept his face and emotions blank. He stared back at the agent and said, “Ask your questions.”

  “Do you know a woman named Diamond Turner?”

  X remained perfectly still while inside his cat paced, watched, and waited. “I met her about a month and a half ago. She was standing outside of Athena’s.”

  “Did you see her again after that?”

  “No.”

  “Did you have any contact with her after that night?”

  “No.”

  Wilson didn’t believe him. X could see it in his eyes, never mind the ever-growing stench in the room—like rotting vegetables.

  “Why?” X asked in return.

  Wilson waited a beat, sat back, and rubbed a finger over his clean-shaven chin. “She’s dead,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Again, X was sure not to show any emotion at all. Of course he knew Diamond was dead, had seen her body himself at the morgue. None of that came as a shock to him. The fact that Wilson was here in his living room asking him about it was.

  “And you’re here telling me because?” X asked.

  Wilson wasn’t any superior of his; they were both special agents working within their own government agencies. For years X had worked in the human trafficking department in an attempt t
o stop the ever-growing trade. It also gave him time to work off the anger that still boiled in his system at the thought of helpless females being repeatedly abused by men who were supposed to be their saviors.

  Wilson, on the other hand, worked with the DEA, in the international drug trade. Diamond’s neck had been bitten almost in half. She had nothing to do with international drugs. At least X didn’t believe Wilson knew what her link to international drugs was. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be sitting in X’s living room looking as if he were really about to arrest him. Then again, if Wilson had some idea of what drug Diamond had taken and if he knew about Sabar and his twisted gang of shifters, then it might lead him back to X. But X doubted the latter very seriously.

  “This was found with her things,” Wilson said, flicking a business card between his fingers.

  He didn’t extend it for X to see and X didn’t need him to. He knew it was his and almost cursed. Instead he did what he always did when faced with bullshit. He shrugged.

  “So she had a business card.”

  “She had your business card. A special agent with the fuckin’ FBI. You want to explain that to me?”

  So Wilson’s calm, cool, and collected exterior could be ruffled. X had figured as much. They’d both been taught to bluff with the straightest face possible, to play everything close to the vest and remain professional. X would hold up his end of the bargain.

  “No. I don’t want to explain it to you. I told you I met her one night and didn’t see her again after that. There’s nothing more that I have to say.”

  X stood as he spoke. “Now if that’s all you wanted to ask.”

  Wilson stood as well. “You’re really going to make me take this route?”

  Again X shrugged. “What route would that be?”

  “I can get a warrant, search your place. Then I can arrest you, have you indicted in a capital murder case. You’d lose your career, your life as you know it now, everything.”

  “Or,” X said, taking a step closer to the agent, “you can put that card back in your pocket and walk your ass out of my house. I’m done talking to you.”

  “If it was personal, I can try to help you. Maybe we can work something out with the director,” Wilson insisted.

  Dorian Wilson was about six feet tall. He had a deep brown complexion and dark, generally honest eyes. His frame was strong; he worked out regularly. He was a damn good agent. X was also willing to bet his next paycheck that Dorian was here with more than suspicions about Diamond Turner’s murder.

  “I don’t need to work anything out. But you definitely need to go.”

  Wilson shook his head. “This isn’t going to go away just because you don’t want to deal with it. I’m going to keep digging because I know something’s going on with you.”

  “Then get out your best shovel and have at it” was X’s flip retort.

  He was very close to losing his cool with this guy. How dare he come up in his house asking him everything but if he’d killed Diamond himself? Obviously he had nothing besides that business card to go on, so X wasn’t giving him the time of day.

  Just as they reached the door and X opened it, Nick was strolling down the hallway, sporting one of his designer suits and a royally pissed-off look on his face.

  Chapter 9

  “Do you have a warrant?” Nick asked Agent Wilson.

  “Not yet” was Wilson’s tight reply. He wasn’t looking very pleased with the new arrival.

  Nick nodded. “Then you were just leaving. Here’s my card. If you need to speak to my client again you go through me.”

  Wilson took the card Nick extended to him, giving both Nick and X a very pissed-off gaze.

  “I’m not through with you yet,” he told X.

  “Fine. But you’re wasting your time,” X told him with a serious glare.

  “Like I said, get in touch with me if you need something else from my client.”

  Nick was using his best lawyerly voice. X would have laughed at how polished and professional his friend sounded, when his usual dialogue was about kicking somebody’s ass. But he refrained.

  “Right,” Wilson said, giving Nick a nod, then walking out the door.

  The same door that Nick subsequently slammed so loud X thought the windows that lined the entire side of his apartment might break. He didn’t bother to stand there and wait for Nick’s tirade. Instead he walked into the kitchen and reached into the fridge. It was still early, but he definitely needed a drink to deal with what was about to take place here.

  X pulled out a bottle of beer and twisted the cap off, taking a deep swallow as about two minutes later there came a quiet knock at the door. On a curse he heard Nick’s dress shoes clicking across his wood floors. Then he heard the door open and close once more. X began counting, had only gotten to five when Nick and Rome walked into the kitchen.

  “What the hell’s going on?” Rome asked first.

  Nick was shaking his head. “More important, where the hell is my sister and why didn’t you bring her home last night?”

  X rubbed his free hand down his bald head and took another swallow of beer. “Number one, I don’t know what’s going on. I suspect they think I killed Diamond Turner, the stripper from Athena’s I met a while back.”

  He was already walking out of the kitchen, a very angry Nick and a perplexed Rome following behind him. When he was once again sitting on the couch, X emptied the beer. “And two,” he stated, looking directly at Nick, “I wanted to keep Caprise safe. So I brought her home with me.” Not entirely the truth but he figured if he’d said, I wasn’t finished fucking your little sister, that’s why I brought her home with me, things were going to go to shit pretty fast.

  “Safe from what? What were you even doing at that club?” Nick asked, standing directly in front of X.

  Rome touched a hand to Nick’s shoulder. “The fact is that Caprise is safe. Right?” Rome asked, looking around the room.

  “She’s still asleep,” X said, then thought about his words again.

  Nick was shaking his head. “Negative. She’s locked in your bathroom. That’s where she called me from when she heard somebody talking about arresting you. That’s why we used Rome’s helicopter to get here as soon as possible, to keep your ass out of jail.”

  “Fuck!” X stood and placed the bottle on the coffee table. He was about to walk back to his bedroom when Nick grabbed him by the arm.

  “Whoa, you have some explaining to do first.”

  “Get your hands off me, Delgado,” he said, a rumbling in his chest signaling his cat was damn tired of sitting on the sidelines.

  “Just calm down, both of you clowns.”

  That was Rome, always the negotiator, the problem fixer, the fucking Faction Leader.

  Both Nick and X stood still. X looked down at Nick’s hand on his arm then back up to Nick.

  Begrudgingly and with a look that clearly said this wasn’t finished, Nick yanked his arm away. “You and I are going to have a conversation,” he told X.

  X thought about flipping Nick off, which wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary. It wasn’t as if they were planning some big-ass shifter wedding in the rain forest like Rome and Kalina had, or even a quiet ceremony at Havenway like Nick and Ary had shared not too long ago. No, he and Caprise had just had sex—some damn good sex, but still, just sex. Nick was X’s friend; they were even closer than friends; the three of them were like brothers. They’d been there for him when he needed them and hadn’t asked any questions. For that X would always be grateful. And it was that gratitude that wouldn’t allow him to disrespect Nick by brushing him and his concern off totally.

  “First, Caprise is obviously okay because she was able to call you, Nick. Second, I want to know everything that happened at Athena’s. Then I want to know what that cocky-ass DEA agent who used Kalina in his sham of an investigation was here questioning you about.”

  Rome had taken off his suit jacket and thrown it across the back of the love seat. He was
loosening his tie as X came to stand by the fireplace. With his arms folded over his chest, he looked directly at Rome, who had now sat down.

  “I wanted to see what was going on inside the club. We know Sabar’s running his drug through there, so I wanted to check it out. When I got there, Caprise was dancing,” he said, casting a glare at Nick. He wasn’t sure if Nick knew about his sister’s occupation. No, X was certain he didn’t. And the curse that came from Nick the moment he said it confirmed that notion.

  “I waited for her to get off stage then took her back to her dressing room to question her.” He omitted the rest for everyone’s sake.

  “Question her about dancing or the drugs?” Nick asked, as if he had to in the first place.

  They were like family … except Caprise wasn’t related by blood, which meant he could sleep with her and remain loyal to Nick. Or at least he hoped so.

  “I questioned her about the dancing. Up to that point I hadn’t seen any drugs—or any Rogues, for that matter. Then the scent came. They were coming to Caprise’s dressing room.”

  “For what? Does she know any of the Rogues that frequent the club?” Rome asked.

  “She wouldn’t associate with Rogues,” Nick said. “She’d kick ’em in the balls and laugh in their faces.”

  X did chuckle at that, even though he was feeling anything but happy at this moment. “You’re right about that. But no, she said she didn’t know who could have been at the door. And I didn’t stick around to find out. My first concern was getting her to safety. So we jumped through the window. Seth and Zach were already waiting at the truck. I left them there to keep watch and brought Caprise back here.”

  “And at no time did you think it was necessary to call me and let me know?” Nick questioned, jamming his hands into the pockets of his dress pants and staring at X as if he could pounce on him at any moment.

  “Last time I checked I was a grown-ass man. I don’t have to check in with anyone” was X’s heated retort.

  Rome held up a hand to stall Nick’s next comment. “Okay, so Caprise has been dancing at the club. Has she seen anything useful to us?”

  X shook his head. “I don’t think so. Then again, she’s not really looking for Rogues. She’s sort of doing her own thing.”