Shift Work (Carus #4) Read Free Page B

Tucker.
    Obscure books lined his bookshelves and today Tucker had The Catcher and the Rye , by J. D. Salinger, facing out for all to see what a complex individual he really was.
    The room reeked of Tucker’s expensive cologne and his bland, boring as paper norm scent. I ground my teeth and approached him. He sat behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded across his lap. My thin file with the coffee mug ring stain sat ominously on the smooth desk surface between us. The folder used to be stuffed full of documents, none of which I’d been privy to, but Booth had “cleaned” the file before taking off.
    “Ms. McNeilly.” Tucker waved his hand at one of the faux-leather seats across his desk. “What an unexpected surprise.”
    Foul-smelling, like a manky chicken truck, his lie moved through the room obliterating all other scents. This, in addition to my folder on his desk, contradicted his words. I plastered on a fake smile and set my shoulders back. “Agent Tucker,” I said and sat down.
    “What can I do for you?”
    “Well, given that you addressed me as Ms. McNeilly instead of ambassador, I assume you’re already aware of the power shift in the local Vampire court.”
    “Of course.” His bright hazel eyes bore into mine, his only remarkable feature. Everything else about the man came across as bland, average, nondescript. That wasn’t me being mean either. Honest truth. The man would’ve made a great undercover agent. Blending in with any crowd, he could’ve slipped in and out of crime scenes. Too bad he was soft and Daddy handed everything to him instead of making him work for it.
    With the urge to throw insults at him somewhat suppressed, I decided to cut to the point and make this as professional as possible. “The new Master Vampire made it expressly known he doesn’t wish to continue the liaison relationship with the SRD.”
    “You could have informed us of his decision via the phone.” Tucker stretched his arms out before leaning forward and resting them on his desk. “Why are you really here?”
    “I want to be reinstated as an agent.” I held my breath and cringed on the inside. My blood pumped slowly with a gritty sensation, as if asking Tucker for something left grime in my veins.
    Agent Tucker chuckled and flopped back into his chair. He smiled at the ceiling. “Priceless.”
    “I’m glad you think so.” The desire to leap across his desk and finish what I started months ago pulled at me hard. We’d seen each other more than I’d like since our first fateful meeting, but the urge to hurt him hadn’t dissipated. I clutched the armrests of my chair and dug my toes into the soles of my shoes.
    “Answer me this, Andrea.”
    I nodded, not trusting my speech at this moment. Sure, I was capable of saying something, but whatever came out of my mouth would be accompanied with a string of curses that would make a salty old sea dog blush.
    “How’d you survive?” he demanded.
    I pursed my lips and forced my breathing to remain controlled. How’d he know I survived before I showed up at his office? That’s what I wanted to demand in return. I bit my tongue instead, and forced the tension from my muscles before responding. “What do you mean?”
    “How’d you survive Lucien’s death?” he asked again. “You were blood bonded to him and should’ve died.”
    Burnt cinnamon rolled off his body. So, Agent Tucker was a bit pissed I lived. Had he heard the news about Lucien’s death and danced around in his office because he thought I’d died as well? Did news of my survival crash him back to reality? Sorry to disappoint you, ATF.
    “Oh, Agent Tucker. I didn’t know you cared.” I forced my body to stay relaxed, and shushed the animals snarling in my head.
    Tucker recoiled, and his hands balled into little fists. “How?” he demanded.
    I shrugged. “Lucien must’ve released me from the bond before his untimely demise.”
    Tucker pursed his lips and drummed his