Chapter 4
Vega stretched out her legs in the faux surveillance van. “I know you guys are the pros, but this van is so obvious.”
“That’s the point,” Eli said, his gaze on the panel of video feeds.
They were sitting outside the walled-in compound of a drug kingpin’s vacation home at two in the morning. The male was human and had no idea he was right on the cusp of Alpha Judoc McGrath’s territory. Or that said Alpha shifter wanted this guy gone—and he probably didn’t even know shifters existed, for that matter.
As part of their cover, she and Eli were a team and had allegedly been working all over the East Coast and Southern states, ripping off human assholes and giving back to shifter packs that needed help. Like modern-day Robin Hoods or something. Any minute now they’d eliminate the problem that had been bothering the Alpha. Mario Hernandez.
Once they laid enough groundwork so it was clear they were behind the attack, the hope was that Judoc, the Alpha, would come to them. They needed to be in his good graces and potentially gain an invite to his property—where they planned to take down Carson. Which was the real mission.
So here they were. The video security was the only thing real in the van. All the other computers had been downloaded with bullshit information.
“I know. It just seems so obvious. Like so obvious they’ll know this is a setup.” Because she and Eli wanted to get caught.
He snorted. “Trust me. Human government agencies use vans like this for surveillance. It won’t be obvious to these dumbasses. Look at them,” he muttered in disgust, his gaze on one of the screens. “They have the skills of toddlers. Pups are more stealthy than them.”
She giggled as she watched the armed men on the screen move at the van they were in from the outside. They didn’t bother using cover or anything, just ran at the van without checking to see if the thing was rigged or anything. And the way they held their weapons up, it was clear they didn’t have military training. Not that she did either, but she’d been trained by Neema and Eli, who did.
Straightening, she reached for a weapon, pulling the pistol out of her thigh holster and preparing to put on a good show. They’d decided to let these thugs take them in to see their boss, letting them think they’d overpowered them. Once inside, however, things were going to change. Since August knew how these men operated, he was going to let Vega and Eli get captured. It was the cleanest and most efficient way to infiltrate, and August had wanted to go with the simplest plan. That was something she’d learned in training: sometimes the most obvious answer or plan was the best.
The back doors of the utility van flew open. She drew her weapon—and had five drawn on her.
“Drop your guns!” the dark-haired man closest to her and Eli shouted. “Do it now!” He had on a long-sleeved sweater, cargo pants, and as far as she could tell, no tactical vest. Which seemed stupid.
Vega and Eli both paused until Eli said to her, “Drop your gun,” his voice trembling ever so slightly. Damn, he was a good actor. Their weapons clattered to the metal floor of the hollowed-out van.
“Get out now!” the same man, clearly the leader of this little team, shouted. She recognized his face from one of the many files she’d read. Terry Harris. High-level thug in Mario Hernandez’s organization.
As she reached the back of the van he grabbed her roughly by the arm and yanked her all the way out. Thanks to her hybrid genes, she landed evenly on her boots. After the thugs patted down both her and Eli for weapons—during which Harris lingered far too long on her breasts—she and Eli were marched toward the gate of the walled-in compound.
“Make sure you bring them in alive,” a faint male voice said from somewhere—the earpiece in Harris’s ear. “I want to interrogate them before I kill them.”
Yes! She did a mental fist pump even as Harris wrenched her wrists behind her back and snapped handcuffs on them. That voice was Mario Hernandez. Poor guy had no idea what he was in for.
There was a half-moon in the sky, blocked out by the giant oak trees surrounding the quiet, exclusive neighborhood in the small North Carolina town. There wasn’t another neighbor for at least two miles in each direction. All the security lights had been turned off, however, probably as a precaution in case anyone else was around. These guys didn’t want anyone to see them kidnapping who they assumed were federal agents. Hernandez was suspected of many crimes, including killing DEA agents who’d been keeping him under surveillance.
But he’d never tangled with shifters before. He was about to get schooled.
“Take care of the van. Disable the GPS if there is one, then destroy it,” Harris ordered one of his men as they rushed Vega and Eli past the arching gates.
She heard the gates rolling shut behind them, the mechanical whir likely silent to human ears. Everyone was quiet, the boots and sneakers pounding the pavement as they strode up the long, winding driveway the only sounds filling the icy night air. There was no snow, but a frigid wind cut over them. Not that it affected her.
She’d never felt so amped up on adrenaline in her life. She’d been drugged, kidnapped and shot when she was younger, and yeah, she’d been scared then, but this was different. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She was a trained operative and she didn’t want to fuck up her first op.
Hyperaware of her surroundings, she dismissed the non-important things like the scents of the humans on the property. Instead she focused on the locations of the video cameras on the house and in the trees—and one sniper on the roof of the palatial Mediterranean-style villa.
The men were still silent as they marched Vega and Eli up the stone walkway to the already open front doors.
“I’m going to enjoy you later,” Harris murmured low enough for her ears only as they crossed the threshold.
She resisted snorting and instead drank in everything. Expensive art in the foyer, lots of dark, polished wood, and the scent of a jasmine and honey cleaner. There was also an underlying scent of gun residue lingering in the air as if shots had been fired recently. Marijuana also tinged the air, but it was faint. Not exactly surprising, though Hernandez was linked up with a cartel that ran cocaine and human cargo.
As they stepped into a huge living room with plush couches, throws and a built-in bar, her gaze immediately went to Hernandez. Standing by the polished wood bar, he was pouring himself a drink. Whisky, if she scented right.
She snorted at the sight of the big, bad drug kingpin. “Oh my God, you were right. He’s like something out of a seventies porno.” Not that Vega had actually seen a seventies porno, but the dude was wearing a thick gold chain and his Tommy Bahama-style shirt was open, showing a bushel of chest hair. A bushel. Man, he needed to get waxed or something. She’d seen face shots from the files, but this was different.
Eli laughed next to her. “Ridiculous, right?”
Hernandez blinked in utter shock, the pure scent of the surprise rolling off him a punch to all her senses. “You stupid puta—”
She snapped the cuffs free as if they were made of straw, reared her elbow back and slammed it into Harris’s nose with all the force she had. His head snapped back, the crunch of his nose breaking. Before he’d even hit the ground, she lashed out at two of the guards as Eli was doing the same to others.
Fist to the face, kick to the stomach, claw slash to the chest.
She twisted and moved like the lightning-fast hybrid she was, mowing down guards until she stood behind Mario Hernandez—who’d only managed to draw his weapon in the time she took out his men—and wrapped her arm around his neck.
He jolted at her grip and dropped his weapon. “What the—”
She cut him off, choking him as he struggled against her, his fingers digging into her forearm. She barely felt his weak attempts to stop her. Vega had always trained with supernaturals, so fighting this human felt like she was going up against a toddler.
As she dropped his unconscious body to the ground, two new males spilled into the room, which unfortunately had three separate entrances. Just wide open spaces with no doors.
She raced at the nearest couch. Using it as a springboard, she dove at the human, fist raised.
He lifted his weapon and she watched as if it was in slow motion. Training with Neema and Eli meant she never got a break, couldn’t even blink when sparring. It was strange to be overpowering these men so quickly. As if she was forgetting to do something.
But his trajectory would work, could potentially hit her. Midair, she twisted, slightly changing her direction. She landed a foot to his right as the gun went off. The bullet blasted out, the flash in her periphery also in slow motion as she rammed her fist against his jaw. It fractured as he flew back, his body seemingly suspended in midair for a long moment before he slammed into a wall. She was aware of Eli finishing up with the other human male.
Plaster cracked as she swiveled, ready for another threat. But everyone in the room was unconscious, their bodies piled up in a bloody, macabre scene.
The power suddenly went off and she smiled. That was August and Neema cutting the security feeds so the last of the guards would be working blind. Perfect timing.
“Make your way upstairs,” Eli ordered in a quiet voice, surveying the fallen humans. “Empty out his safe and take any other valuables you can carry.”
Picking up one of the fallen pistols, she nodded and quietly ducked out of the room. They had a layout of the place so she knew where she was going.
But since there were still more guards in the house she was going to have to disable them if they got in her way. Eli was going to finish sweeping the rest of the downstairs and Neema and August would be disabling the guards outside before meeting with them.
Her heart rate was steady as she eased up the stairs, pistol in front of her. The darkness didn’t affect her ability to see, though her eyes slightly glowed, illuminating the path in front of her. Nothing she could do about that.
She scented humans as she stepped onto the top landing, but it could be residual. There were too damn many scents to sift through. Her boots were silent as she moved down the carpeted hallway.
Hernandez’s office was three doors down. When she reached it, of course it was closed. She tried the handle. Locked.
With a flick of her wrist, she snapped the handle free. Easing the door open, she visually swept it. Empty.
Using her hip, she pushed the door shut. She tucked the pistol into one of her holsters and moved to the closet, letting her eyes illuminate the way.
Once inside the walk-in closet, she moved to the safe that had to weigh a thousand pounds. Definitely not moving that thing.
Grasping the handle, she twisted, then pulled. It groaned under the weight of her strength. Sweat beaded along her forehead as the door finally tore open.
She pulled it fully outward, her eyes widening as she took in the contents.
Diamonds. So many diamonds. And stacks of cash. Drugs too, but they would stay. After locating a couple black duffel bags, she started transferring the valuables into the bags. Once she was done, she did a quick sweep of his office for any more valuables, then headed back the way she’d come.
Downstairs she found Eli pouring an accelerant over the bodies. It was immediately clear that everyone was dead. The scent of the kerosene was pungent. “You killed everyone?” She wasn’t sure why she asked when it was obvious the answer was yes.
“You get what was in the safe?” he asked, not even looking at her as he moved with a supernatural efficiency.
“Yes.”
He took one of the bags from her, hoisted it against his back as he pulled out a Bic lighter. “Come on. We’ll meet at the rally point.”
She fell in step with him as he tossed the lighter over his shoulder, racing along a hallway until they reached a garage. He must have gotten keys earlier because he palmed them and hit the key fob to a brand-new F350.
She jumped into the passenger side as he took the driver’s side. He didn’t bother opening the garage, just rammed through the door. It splintered and cracked as they flew through it. In the rearview mirror she saw flames through the windows, the fire starting to spread.
“They were always going to die,” Eli said quietly a few minutes later when they were well out of range of the house.
She swallowed hard, but nodded. Vega had known they’d be disabling them, but… “I guess I just assumed. Hell, I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t want to think about it.” Supernatural laws were harsher, more brutal than humans’. They had to be. In the supernatural world, strength was respected. She understood that more than most, considering who her parents were. Her father was an Alpha who always walked the tightrope between being just and fair, or crossing that line into too brutal.
“Not to sound too simplistic, but they were bad men. They made a living off the pain of others. If it had just been drugs…” He shrugged, then his jaw tightened, his eyes going dark before he turned back to the road. “Hernandez sold people. Kids included. Everyone in that house associated with him had to die.”
“Thank you for…just thank you.” Vega understood and even agreed with him. She knew what she’d signed on for. But she was glad she hadn’t had to go around killing men already incapacitated.
Eli simply nodded and turned back to the road. “You did good tonight.”
“It was easier than I expected.”
“Because they’re humans. When you go up against our kind, it’ll be a new ballgame.”
Of that she had no doubt.
The rally point was an all-night diner. Her heart rate was steady by the time they pulled into the graveled driveway. She spotted August and Neema in a four-door sedan, but didn’t approach them as she and Eli got out. He took the duffel bags and dropped them into August’s trunk while she headed to the midsize SUV with a clean license plate that August had left for her.
August would do whatever it was he did with the diamonds and cash, and she, Eli and Neema would all head to their respective places.
Now it was just a waiting game to see if Judoc decided to reach out to them or not.
Vega started the engine. It purred to life immediately. After a quick glance in the rearview mirror, she saw the others leaving and did the same, heading to the townhome she’d rented for a couple weeks under her cover ID.
She felt as if she’d done a good job tonight but she wouldn’t rest easy until she got feedback from the others. To them, this was standard operating stuff, but she felt as if she’d just run two marathons back-to-back.