Chapter 12

ANITA

"Darby." Leaning back, I speak to the man in question over my shoulder, never once removing my gaze from Cassius. "I think he must be talking to you, because if he used that tone of voice to speak to me, he knows I would roast his nuts."

Without any prompting, a string of fire slithers between my fingers.

It's not an empty threat.

Maybe a little heat will improve his personality.

Soren grins at the warning, amusement dancing in his eyes. The tension eases from his shoulders, and he leans back in his seat, crossing his arms as if he's settling in to enjoy the show. Even if it might have been better for everyone if I left, my fire dances in my veins at the prospect of being near them longer.

Cassius' hand twitches, like he wants to cover his junk, and I can't contain my glee, a vicious smile curling my lips.

If he wants to be an ass, I'll treat him like one.

A brush of fingers on my arm distracts me. When I look toward Darby, my amusement fades, and I sigh. "Take a seat, Cassius. Darby was just going to tell us about the dead body we need to check out."

Everyone turns toward Darby, their expressions hardening as they get down to business.

"What body?" Porter grunts as he dumps a couple of packages on the table before dropping into a seat next to Soren and taking the last chair. Cassius glares at me like he's a harpy on the verge of attack, but I only raise a brow, allowing the flames weaving between my fingers to brighten.

With a hiss, he whirls away, grumbling under his breath about women who don't know when they should be afraid, then he grabs a chair from a nearby table. The giant man seated at that table rises with a deadly glower, fur rippling across his skin—a sasquatch, possibly? Not the least bit intimidated, Cassius just snarls. Whatever the poor beastling glimpses on Cassius' face has him paling, and he drops back into his seat with a plop.

Cassius storms toward us with his prize clutched in his hands. He slams the chair to the floor, wood screeching with the force, all the while glaring at me as he lowers himself into the seat.

Unperturbed by his anger, I wink at him, then turn and face Darby. "Temper tantrum complete. You may continue."

A beat of silence follows.

Then Darby's eyes widen, Soren chuckles, while Porter glances at each of us, probably knowing something changed, but not what. When his eyes land on me, I brace myself for more hatred, but his expression is contemplative.

I'm not sure that's much better.

I shove my hands under the table and clench my fists, snuffing out the flames, and immediately feel cold.

Now that I've decided to stay, I don't want Porter to tell me to leave. I lift my chin as he surveys me, and my breath halts as I wait for his verdict.

"Tell us what you've got," Porter orders, and I breathe a sigh of relief when he looks away from me.

I blink in surprise and blindly turn toward Darby, a warm glow shimmering in my chest at Porter's silent acceptance. A small smile tugs at my mouth, but I quickly bite my lip to squash it.

I won't admit it out loud, but I'm glad I won't be left behind and locked up somewhere while they take care of business. Though nothing could have contained me for long, being discarded would have broken something inside me.

Determined not to get in their way, I remain silent and listen intently as Darby goes over the information MID provided regarding the corpse.

I frown when it's basically just a location.

Pursing my lips, I glance at the rest of the men, but none of them seem the least bit perturbed. When they rise, ready to leave, I frown at them. "That's it? Don't any of you find that even a little bit suspicious?"

"If you're not up to it, little rabbit, then you can stay here," Cassius taunts, a cruel smile on his face, and I barely resist the urge to punch him in the dick.

He must have read the intent on my face, because he hastily takes a step back, twisting his hips so it wouldn't be such an easy strike. Before he can let his temper loose, Porter interrupts our battle of wills. "You suspect a trap?"

"You don't?" I lift my brows in challenge. "The information you received is pretty slim."

Porter grunts in acknowledgment but doesn't immediately deny it. "It's part of an ongoing case. They know we're in the area, so it makes sense for us to check it out, but" —he raises his hand before I can protest— "it makes sense to take extra precautions."

I breathe a sigh of relief at his concession, knowing it is a concession, and give him a nod. As I stand, he shoves half the packages he brought with him in my direction, then gestures toward the stairs. "While you get changed, the rest of us will find transportation and collect the rest of our supplies."

I'm busy grabbing the packages before they can escape my arms and slide to the floor. By the time I look up, the guys have scattered. Funnily enough, it's Cassius who glances back at me. If I didn't know better, I would say he's worried that I might disappear if no one is here to watch over me, which is odd, since he's the one who wanted me gone in the first place.

As I scramble up the stairs, I wonder if this is a ploy to ditch me, but that's not Porter's style. If he didn't want me with them, then he would have dumped something in my drink to knock me out and left me tied up in my room.

Feeling more confident, I take the stairs with a bounce in my step.

I'll show them I can be an asset to the team.

I'll make myself indispensable, so they won't want to get rid of me.

PORTER

Idrum my fingers against the steering wheel in the truck, the window down to pick up any sign of danger. The chilly bite in the early morning air is refreshing as it sinks into my skin, my shadows welcoming the cold. Information filters through the shadows, ready to alert me to any threats…or if the girl tries to escape.

While part of me wants to let her go—which would be better for us in the long run—the thought of her in danger has my shadows twisting in anger. I peer at the pub, cursing myself for even allowing her to come on an active MID investigation, but the thought of leaving her behind is intolerable.

I suspect if we went without her, she would disappear before we got back.

No, I'm doing the right thing by keeping her close.

I watch the door to the pub, pretending I'm not eager to see Anita in the clothes I managed to procure. It's not much, but it's the best I could do under the circumstances. Don't get me wrong, while I love seeing her in nothing but a shirt—or just my shadows—that sight is reserved for no one else but us.

I didn't intend to get her anything but the basics, wanting her covered so she wouldn't draw more attention to us, but my shadows insisted we needed to provide more. Though I don't understand it, a weird sort of satisfaction heats my chest at getting her things I thought she might enjoy.

To distract myself, I study the guys. Darby is once more lost in his tech as he searches for information on our latest case, though I don't miss the way he glances up every few minutes to check for the girl. As much as I hate to admit it, she is a good influence on him.

Same with Soren.

Instead of our normal sulking menace, the giant brute hums a cheery tune under his breath, and I have to admit, that's almost more terrifying than facing down the beastly Cerberus that lingers beneath his skin. The three-headed creature is a juggernaut in a fight, taking great pleasure in ripping his enemies apart and bathing in their blood.

The song he's humming is the same song he usually whistles while hunting his prey.

Only Cassius seems unaffected…until you look closer.

The basilisk is agitated, and that's never a good thing. I tilt my head, then hear it—a low, rattling hiss that fills the truck. Most would assume it's a tire losing air, but I know better. His beast is pissed, and I can practically see the snake writhing and twisting upon itself with the need to escape his human skin.

When his gaze meets mine in the rearview mirror, the sound stops abruptly, and his expression turns sulky. "Bringing her is a rookie mistake. Not only is it against policy, but she's likely to get us killed."

"Do you want to leave her behind?" I keep my eyes on his and don't miss the slight flinch at the suggestion. "Because my intuition says that we need her, and I trust my instincts. It's the only thing that's kept us alive this long. If we leave without her, I doubt we'll ever see her again. Are you okay with that?"

Darby reaches for the handle of the car door, ready to throw himself out of the vehicle if I dare to take off without her, while Soren's merry whistle cuts off abruptly, a menacing rumble filling the vehicle as he slowly turns to glare at Cassius.

His pupils swell until they completely swallow the whites of his eyes, leaving the orbs a soulless black. Dark red shimmers in their depths as his beast rises to the surface, and the scent of sulfur fills the vehicle. A hint of fangs peek out between his lips, and alarm has my shadows rising from my skin. While I might be able to get between them fast enough if he lunges for Cass, I've learned from experience that his hellhound can hurt my shadows.

Cassius rarely bothers to antagonize the hellhound. Their beasts are pretty evenly matched in a fight and just as deadly. They both grew up rough and fight dirty. If they truly fought in earnest, they would both likely end up dead.

Instead of showing fear, Cass just rolls his eyes and shakes his head, then he turns and looks out the window. "Whatever. If you get her killed, then that's on you."

Before Soren can completely lose his temper and his beast can slip his leash, Darby holds up his hand. "Do you honestly believe she would be safer in the borderlands by herself than surrounded by us?"

Cass glares at him, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "You're all obsessed with her. Do you think you'll be able to protect her when you're too busy watching her ass to see the danger coming?"

Before anyone can start throwing punches, a snort sounds by my window. I nearly jump out of my skin, unnerved that my shadows didn't alert me to anyone's approach. I whirl, pulling my shadows close, ready to throw them at the person and steal the air from their lungs…only to halt dead in my tracks when I see Anita standing just inches away with a scowl on her face. With my heart pounding like a drum against my ribs at the near miss, I barely hear her words when she speaks.

"Hey, asshat," Anita snarls, her hands on her hips as she gazes into the back of the truck. "I don't need you or anyone to protect me. I can do that on my own, fuck you very much. Anytime you want to try me, fang boy, I'm game."

"Enough," I snap, not waiting for them to come to blows. The thought of anyone laying a finger on her has my shadows writhing with the effort to keep them from exploding off my skin, and I'm not sure if I could stop myself from shredding his flesh from his bones. "The decision is final."

Soren doesn't hesitate to open the door and hop out. Instead of offering her a hand to help her enter, he slips his arms around her, then boldly picks her up by her hips and settles her in the vehicle.

"Jeez!" Anita huffs, then scrambles inside the truck the instant her feet touch down. "Warn a girl next time you plan to manhandle her."

Though she snarks at him, there is a breathless quality to her voice that says how much she enjoyed it. My shadows still at the familiarity of his touch, and I'm not sure how to react at knowing he laid his hands and probably more on her.

My mind immediately fills with images of him exploring every inch of her body, and the different ways he would pleasure her over and over until she screamed his name. I wait for my shadows to fill the truck and seek vengeance…so I'm caught by surprise when they creep forward with curiosity instead. My cock immediately hardens when image after image of her naked and pressed between us flash through my head.

The slamming of the door snaps me back to attention, and I blink, struggling to get my breath—and my cock—back under control.

Unable to speak, I wait while Soren carefully buckles her into the middle seat, then I start the truck and pull out. The only way I can keep my eyes from wandering back to her again and again is by focusing on the darkness and watching for anyone who might be following.

As we drive down the road, the morning light slowly crawls across the desolate landscape of crumbling buildings and barren streets. Many people think the borderlands are creepy at night, but they obviously haven't visited during the daylight hours.

The town falls away after a few minutes, leaving open land as far as the eye can see. While it might give the illusion of safety, it's a mirage. Danger lingers everywhere, ambushes and boobytraps waiting for the unwary.

The road is almost familiar after traveling over it so many times in the last few weeks, our truck a recognizable sight in this area. While an MID officer might scare some predators away, it makes us a bigger target for others—those who want revenge or the prestige and bragging rights for taking out an MID agent.

Darby gives directions to the crime scene, his voice the only sound in the vehicle. Cass remains stiff, staring out the window like the rest of us don't exist. Soren blatantly stares at Anita like she's a snack he wants to eat. To my surprise, Anita ignores both of them, her eyes scanning our surroundings, taking everything in like she's expecting an ambush at any second.

Smart girl.

My eyes slip lower, scanning her form in her new clothes, and my chest puffs up at how well they fit. The shirt clings to her curves, outlining her body in every detail. Though she might be small, her curves are killer and more than enough to distract a guy. Her pants display every delicious inch of her legs and ass.

Who knew someone so short could have legs that go on for days?

She is a goddess wrapped up in a delectable package—one that I want to slowly strip naked and worship every inch of her as I go.

Something about seeing her wearing clothes I purchased just does it for me, almost like a stamp of ownership. When my shadows slowly skim across the floor, as if trying to reach her, I shut down my ridiculous thoughts hard. The shadows disappear in a poof, and I wilt back against the seat, both relieved and disappointed.

I rip my attention away from her and focus on the mission, cutting off my infatuation with the girl before it can grow into something more dangerous. None of us can afford to be distracted, not when dead bodies have been showing up more and more frequently, the violence increasing with each death.

As the sun rises in the sky, sand blows across the desert landscape, sounding like rocks peppering the exterior of the truck. Most vehicles are sandblasted within a week, the paint stripped down to the frame.

Even inside the vehicle, I can feel the temperature rising. By mid-morning, the air will be stifling. My shadows wrap around me, sinking into my skin to seek shelter from the light. The tiny shadow that attached itself to Anita buries itself in the strands of her hair, then dips under her clothing to skim across her body.

She shivers at the sensation, many people associating the feeling with someone stepping across their grave. Then I'm distracted by the feeling of her silken skin. Her sweet but spicy scent fills my mind, and I'm suddenly desperate for a taste.

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, the plastic groaning in protest, and I grit my teeth as I shift in my seat when it feels like my pants are trying to strangle my cock. It takes all my willpower not to send my shadows coasting over her body until she writhes in her seat and moans my name in pleasure.

Turnabout is fair play, after all.

The fact that she's completely unaware that she's torturing me is irrelevant.

I blow out a breath, tear my eyes off the rearview mirror—again—and focus on the directions Darby reads off, ignoring the look he gives me when he has to repeat himself twice. While there are some shacks along the way, they are obvious traps for the unwary, and we keep our distance.

One hour turns into two, and the first hint of trees dot the horizon.

Many would breathe a sigh of relief to see trees and shelter, especially if they are stranded on foot, but that would be a mistake. The forest is where the real dangers hunker down and lie in wait—wildlings once known as beastlings who have long since given up on their human forms, and mages who have warrants out for their arrest after turning to dark magic, curses, or blood magic.

Once a mage turns dark, the power can be addictive.

It twists a person's magic and soul. Their blood darkens with each spell until it looks like black sludge slithering through their veins. By that time, the taint is so severe, their magic basically consumes them from the inside out.

It's surprising how often that happens.

It's a disease that has no cure.

Many people dismiss the warning, thinking it won't happen to them. Some spells can cover it for a while, but even illusions aren't strong enough to hide the effects, not when the blood slowly starts to erode them from the inside out until they resemble the decaying monsters of legends—zombies.

I slow the vehicle as we near the woodlands. As soon as we cross the threshold, the sunlight disappears. The silence is so thick that not even the insects dare make a sound. It's like entering a different world. The trees are ancient, towering in the sky. Their branches stretch overhead, the leaves thick and bright green.

They should look healthy, but they are a little too picture perfect. If you look a little closer, the crevices in the bark are stained dark red from dried blood. We stay on the road for the next ten miles, the trees growing thicker, the path narrower. I can practically feel eyes watching us from the shadows.

The forest is endless and seems to move on its own. No one has been successful in mapping it. They disappeared long before they could complete the job.

Only the desperate venture here.

The road weaves through the trees, narrowing until it's only a rutted path, and the truck slows to a snail's pace. When we reach a dead end, I turn off the ignition, and the engine pings in the silence.

The animosity between the guys is long gone, each of them searching the trees for danger.

Anita leans forward, not taking her gaze away from the forest. "Does anyone else feel the wrongness?"

I exchange a look with the guys. It's the same sensation that has been present at each crime scene. With a heavy sigh, I push the door open and send out my shadows. They don't go far, just enough to watch our backs. "Let's go."

Everyone piles out, and we follow Darby as he winds his way through the trees. We walk single file behind him, and I note how the guys automatically keep Anita between them. Despite how much he might protest her presence, even Cass is protective of her.

We don't go more than a mile before we come into a clearing. We all stop dead and stare at the body tied spread eagle between two trees. The corpse is so mangled that it hardly resembles anything human. The violence of the crime is brutal, and I barely resist the urge to stand in front of Anita and block her view.

Cass was right.

Bringing her was a mistake.