I took a step back from the .
Nick took a step toward me.
I took another.
He did the same and pushed the door shut behind him.
"Take them off," I whispered. I didn't really mean to whisper, but that's all I could muster up at that moment. Desire that burned away everything else with the power of a flame thrower scorched me from the inside out.
Without a word, holding my gaze, he unclipped the first and his phone began chiming. He froze for a beat and silenced it. "I'll take care of it later."
The Scooby Doo theme song began playing from my phone. I glanced back at where it lay on the table. "That's Scoob."
With a groan, he re-clipped the shackle and pulled his own phone from his pocket. "Me, too."
"If she's calling us both, it's probably bad." My voice definitely did not crack as if I were on the verge of tears. Probably. But the last time somebody from work called me it was Mx. Landry, telling me Nick had been arrested for murder. "I'm just.. Uhm... Going to..."
He held out a hand toward my phone. "Yeah. Go on, then."
I scurried over and hit the green button just as the song clip began to play through for the second time. "Hey, Scoob, what's up?"
Nick wandered into my little kitchen area and helped himself to a few paper towels which he used to mop his wet face, neck and arms.
"I got a call from an old friend from my Seattle days," Scoob said. "He's on the tail of a rakshasa heading up a crime--"
"Hold on. Nick's here with me. I'll put you on speaker." I swiped the button and laid the phone on the counter.
While she repeated what she'd already said, he tossed the paper towels in the trash and moved around the counter to stand directly in front of me--close enough that I could smell the scent of his aftershave, mixed with the clean aroma of the rain-soaked fabric of his shirt.
I stared up into his eyes, mesmerized by the deep play of cobalt atop navy.
Scoob rushed on. "He's heading up a trafficking ring. They supply human children to supes for food and slaves."
Nick reached forward and laced his fingers through mine. "The worst kind of scum."
"Right. Also, the most well connected," Scoob said as I fought for breath against the frantic thumping of my heart. "He's got people everywhere who have a vested interest in keeping him in business."
Nick's free hand slid around my waist, beneath the hem of my sweatshirt. He pulled me closer to him, so close the dampness of his pants pressed against my bare thighs. Something more interesting pressed against my belly. "Constantly fighting for control is a truly exhausting game." His hand slid upward over my ribcage.
"It's one he's good at, though," Scoob said.
Nick bent and nuzzled his nose into my neck, drawing goosebumps across every part of me. His hand roamed over the bare skin of my back.
"My friend's been tracking him across the whole damn continent for weeks. They're close, but they're requesting backup."
I slid the fingers of my right hand through the thickness of Nick's hair. "Nick's been out for five minutes, Scoob. Can't he have a day?"
Nick drew his tongue the length of my neck and my knees nearly buckled.
"I know. The timing sucks, Nick, and I'm glad you're out, but they're making their move tonight and they're asking for a debriefing at twenty hundred hours so we can all go in together. I know that's cutting it close, but we have to move right now."
With an immense sigh, he stepped away from me. Looking directly into my eyes, he answered Scoob. "We'll be there."
I swiped the screen to hang up the phone. "We don't have to go."
"Yes, we do."
"We've got twenty minutes to get there. If we take ten, we could--"
He arched his stupidly perfect eyebrow at me. "We have to go."
I pressed my lips into a tight line to hold back the temper tantrum I desperately wanted to have.
The corner of Nick's mouth twitched. "I've known a great many people. I don't think I've ever met a single one who feels their feelings the way you feel yours."
"I hate it," I pouted.
He kissed the tip of my nose. "I do not."
***
We drove to The Recovery Agency separately and parked side-by-side. I rode the elevator down with my arms crossed over my chest. Nick's amusement filled the space between us, and it pissed me off even more. Which was confusing because why would I be made about not being able to fool around with a person I was mad at? Then I was just mad about being confused.
When the doors opened onto the lobby, he simply shook his head and stepped out.
Mx. Landry buzzed the door open, and Nick gestured for me to go first. I stepped through, got shocked, blinded, and electrocuted, and moved on to the hallway on the other side of security.
"Welcome back to the day that never ends," Mx. Landry droned.
The whole hallway smelled like fried chicken. I stalked off, following my nose, and found Scoob sitting in the conference room with Moose and Rider and four massive dudes with man buns and chiseled jaws. Moose glowered at me, looking pretty much exactly the same way I felt, and I wondered if his husband had told him he had to go. Stupid partners.
Was Nick my partner?
I was angry at him for leaving me in an undefined limbo.
I plopped down in the least squeaky chair available and set to work chewing on my thumbnail.
Rider pushed his bushy hair away from his face. His beady black eyes darted back and forth between Moose and me. "Everything okay?"
"Peachy," Moose grumbled.
Rider clamped his mouth shut and fiddled with his beard.
Nick strolled through the door, followed by Mx. Landry, and they took their seats on either end of the table. He leaned back and folded his idiotically beautiful hands over his stupidly fabulous abs and scanned the group with his daggonit perfect blue eyes. "Scoob tells us you worked together in Seattle. I hope we're able to help you today. A portion of my team is otherwise occupied, but these folks are some of the best in the business." He gestured to each of us in turn, "Moose, Rider, Mx. Landry, and Nowicki."
The beefcake to Nick's right jerked his chin upward by way of greeting. "I'm Rowan. These are my brothers, Ricky, Atlas, and Leigh. Thank you for your willingness to help."
Not sure willing was exactly the right word. At least two-thirds of the people in the room would have rather been just about anywhere else.
He picked up the remote that was lying on the table and pointed it to the screen on the wall. An image of a humanoid beast with giant tusks, bulging eyes, and the most crazy-ass eyebrows I've ever seen leered at us.
"This is our fugitive. He goes by Ram these days."
"Ugly fucker," Scoob muttered.
Rowan nodded. "Always, but not always ugly in the same way." He clicked through a series of images that showed the demon as a drooling, bulldog with a massive underbite, a horse so rippling with muscles it looked mutated, an eagle with a weirdly misshapen skull. "He can shift into the form of any animal."
"Rakshasa can also shift into various unnatural shapes," Nick said.
"Never seen this one do it," Rowan replied. "Not saying he can't. I just don't have a record of it." He clicked forward to a map. Red pins dotted every populated part of the earth. They were clustered in big cities near seaports. "Easiest way for him to make a kid disappear is to get them on a ship and into international waters."
"So what's he doing around here?" I asked. "The nearest port is... what? Toledo?"
"Monroe, just south of Detroit," one of the too-identical-to-tell-apart brothers said. "He's making a delivery."
"Here?" The cuffs on Nick's wrists glowed more brightly and I had no doubt his eyes would have been sparking if he hadn't been wearing them. He was pissed that this was going down in his town.
"Here," Rowan confirmed. "You're central to half a dozen urban centers, big enough that nobody's going to notice out of towners lurking around for a day or two, and small enough that The Organization doesn't run constant HQ surveillance."
"Are you aware of the recent situation with The Organization?" Mx. Landry asked. "They've had an increased presence in the area for the past several days."
Rowan waved their words away. "It's of no concern. I have a warrant and a fugitive on the run."
"I'm thinking perhaps you could make this their problem instead of ours," they said.
He shook his head. "He's my bond. You know how it is."
"Is he alone?" Rider asked, his voice quavering a little.
"Nope." Rowan flashed through several more pictures showing a ragtag group of creatures that were the stuff of nightmares. "We expect at least half a dozen of them to be at the warehouse tonight. They've got over twenty kids and they'll need muscle just to move the crates."
My gut clenched at the thought of children stuffed in shipping crates to be sold off as food or worse.
Nick leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table. He pressed his fingertips together and leaned his chin on them. "It's important that the children aren't collateral damage if there's a fight."
"There's definitely going to be a fight," one of the brothers said. "No way I see him coming easy."
"Better to lose twenty now and save a thousand down the road," one of the others said.
The cuffs on Nick's wrists glowed even brighter. "It is crucial that the children remain unharmed. Our priority will be protecting them at all costs."
Rowan tossed the remote down. "We need to nail this bastard before an--"
"We will protect the children," Nick said. "And we will apprehend your fugitive. What time is the drop?"
Rowan held his gaze for several seconds and finally relented. "Twenty-two hundred hours."
"Where?"
The guy picked up the remote again and showed us a picture of an abandoned warehouse on the east side of town.
I knew the area because one of my favorite Mexican restaurants was just down the road. Most of the surrounding buildings had been demolished or had caved in on their own and nature had violently reasserted her authority, devouring everything in thick layers of vines, pushing saplings up through cracks in the asphalt, and sprouting tall, scraggly weeds in any available patch of dirt. Any part of the building still showing was covered in gang tags.
"There's a covered approach here." He pointed to a narrow path hiding among the trees. "If we leave the cars we can split up and enter the building here, here, and here." Red arrows appeared on the screen near a door, a row of broken-out windows, and a skylight.
"What about the other door?" Scoob asked.
"Our best guess is that's the one they'll be using."
"Are we apprehending the buyers?"
"Nail every one of the bastards you can lay your hands on and turn them over to The Organization, but Ram is the priority. He's the kingpin and he's the one out on bail."
"The children are the priority." Nick's voice was soft and somehow as threatening as a lion's growl. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
The guy from Seattle swallowed hard. "Yeah. After them, I mean."
Nick checked his watch. "If you're going to stay on your timeline, you'll want to be parked and waiting within the hour. Mx. Landry, please see to it that everyone has the equipment they need." His gaze fell on me. "Good luck."
***
Author's note: I know some of you are feeling as frustrated as Olivia with all the interruptions. Rest assured, good things will definitely come to those who wait. ;)