surprise at his declaration. She knew it was a sure sign she knew more than she was letting on, but that was all right. Let the bastard think what he wanted to.
Another raised eyebrow. “Of course not. And the FBI hasn’t sent me to Memphis to investigate the recent incursion of Russian… family members.”
“Again, how would that be in your jurisdiction?”
“Funny thing about werewolves, Officer. There’s not a whole lot of written regulations on them. Most government entities like to pretend they don’t exist. We show up, they’re more than happy to let us take cases like this off their hands.” He looked back to his paperwork. “As I was saying, you and your partner are being transferred to my team.”
Didn’t it just figure the FBI would have a unit to deal with werewolves? Miller held out paperwork, which she refused to take. “Team? What team? What have you done to my partner?”
“Done to him?” Agent Miller sat back in his chair as he waved a dismissive hand. “Ms. Duprey, there’s nothing your partner can teach us about werewolves. In fact, from the looks of things, we may be able to teach him a thing or two. We need to focus on who’s the enemy, here. The Russian pack that’s moving into Memphis is nothing your department wants to deal with on its own. The fewer people who know werewolves exist, let alone that they’re taking over some of the biggest US crime gangs, the better. The last thing we need is widespread panic. However, since you already know about werewolves, your chief seemed to think it best to transfer you along with your partner. If you’d rather speak to your captain…”
A shadow filled the doorway, blocking out the midday Memphis sun. “She’ll accept the transfer.”
“Jarod!” It was all Belle could do not to throw herself into his arms. Damn him and his professional , anyway. Her relief was almost immediately followed by a surge of anger. The bastard had her worried sick, and he was perfectly fine! “Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on? I thought you were dead!”
“Werewolves are nothing if not resilient.” Miller waved Jarod to the empty seat beside Belle.
By now Belle knew to expect almost anything from Jarod -- anything but him following the rules. But instead of the tirade she’d expected, Jarod sat down beside her, accepting his folder as if… as if this was just another assignment. As if this was normal. As if anything would ever be normal again.
Jarod. Calm. Self-assured. Looking like he knew what the hell was going on. It was more than she could take. “What the fuck is happening here!” she shouted at him. At them both. “I wake up, not in the hospital, where any sane woman expects to be after a friggin lunatic pack of Russian werewolves blows up her and her partner along with some warehouse full of -- whatever the fuck was so damn important, anyway? I wake up and find out I’m in the infirmary at the FBI Regional Headquarters -- which, by the way, does not friggin exist! I’ve barely got my Jell-O down when some skinny-ass nurse orders -- orders -- me down here. My clothes are gone. Everything I’m wearing’s got FBI all over it in eight-inch-high letters. And now I find out everyone but me knows everything! I’m sick of being the last to know what the hell’s going on!”
“Looks like the two of you need to talk.” Miller stood, gathering the files in front of him as he did. “I imagine you have quite a bit to discuss.”
“Not here,” Jarod growled, tugging Belle to her feet. She stumbled after him down the hallway, his longer strides urgent and almost forcing her to jog to keep up. “This isn’t a peep show, and I know you have that room wired for video and sound.”
Chapter 4
Belle’s face flamed. Did the big oaf have to go and mark his territory so blatantly? The whole damned FBI would know he was fucking her before the day was out. If they didn’t already. Was that the only reason she was here?
Another raised eyebrow. “Of course not. And the FBI hasn’t sent me to Memphis to investigate the recent incursion of Russian… family members.”
“Again, how would that be in your jurisdiction?”
“Funny thing about werewolves, Officer. There’s not a whole lot of written regulations on them. Most government entities like to pretend they don’t exist. We show up, they’re more than happy to let us take cases like this off their hands.” He looked back to his paperwork. “As I was saying, you and your partner are being transferred to my team.”
Didn’t it just figure the FBI would have a unit to deal with werewolves? Miller held out paperwork, which she refused to take. “Team? What team? What have you done to my partner?”
“Done to him?” Agent Miller sat back in his chair as he waved a dismissive hand. “Ms. Duprey, there’s nothing your partner can teach us about werewolves. In fact, from the looks of things, we may be able to teach him a thing or two. We need to focus on who’s the enemy, here. The Russian pack that’s moving into Memphis is nothing your department wants to deal with on its own. The fewer people who know werewolves exist, let alone that they’re taking over some of the biggest US crime gangs, the better. The last thing we need is widespread panic. However, since you already know about werewolves, your chief seemed to think it best to transfer you along with your partner. If you’d rather speak to your captain…”
A shadow filled the doorway, blocking out the midday Memphis sun. “She’ll accept the transfer.”
“Jarod!” It was all Belle could do not to throw herself into his arms. Damn him and his professional , anyway. Her relief was almost immediately followed by a surge of anger. The bastard had her worried sick, and he was perfectly fine! “Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on? I thought you were dead!”
“Werewolves are nothing if not resilient.” Miller waved Jarod to the empty seat beside Belle.
By now Belle knew to expect almost anything from Jarod -- anything but him following the rules. But instead of the tirade she’d expected, Jarod sat down beside her, accepting his folder as if… as if this was just another assignment. As if this was normal. As if anything would ever be normal again.
Jarod. Calm. Self-assured. Looking like he knew what the hell was going on. It was more than she could take. “What the fuck is happening here!” she shouted at him. At them both. “I wake up, not in the hospital, where any sane woman expects to be after a friggin lunatic pack of Russian werewolves blows up her and her partner along with some warehouse full of -- whatever the fuck was so damn important, anyway? I wake up and find out I’m in the infirmary at the FBI Regional Headquarters -- which, by the way, does not friggin exist! I’ve barely got my Jell-O down when some skinny-ass nurse orders -- orders -- me down here. My clothes are gone. Everything I’m wearing’s got FBI all over it in eight-inch-high letters. And now I find out everyone but me knows everything! I’m sick of being the last to know what the hell’s going on!”
“Looks like the two of you need to talk.” Miller stood, gathering the files in front of him as he did. “I imagine you have quite a bit to discuss.”
“Not here,” Jarod growled, tugging Belle to her feet. She stumbled after him down the hallway, his longer strides urgent and almost forcing her to jog to keep up. “This isn’t a peep show, and I know you have that room wired for video and sound.”
Chapter 4
Belle’s face flamed. Did the big oaf have to go and mark his territory so blatantly? The whole damned FBI would know he was fucking her before the day was out. If they didn’t already. Was that the only reason she was here?
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