Chapter 3
Tyce sat behind his desk, already fully aware that Monroe was on the premises and headed straight for him. It was irksome. The two Dominants avoided each other at all costs except for those rare occasions when they collaborated on a mission or in the recent case of the attack on StoneCrow Estates. Tyce didn’t care for Monroe, not as a fellow Dominant Skin Walker and not as an individual. Monroe was too conniving, too near-sighted when it came to the rapidly depleting Skin Walker population. Procreation. It was Monroe’s one goal, and it was juvenile. Where Monroe had built a fortress where his Walkers could mate and procreate in safety, Tyce’s compound, Apex, was more like a military barracks. Hoarding weapons, training his men, and fighting their enemies occupied his time. After all, why create more Skin Walkers? So they could be slaughtered? It made no sense. No, they first needed to exterminate those who hunted, captured, and experimented on Skin Walkers. That was the only priority. Why hide from the humans and Megalya when Skin Walkers could annihilate them? They were the superior species after all. On several occasions Tyce had advocated for all-out war, but Monroe had rallied against him. As Monroe had put it, Skin Walkers were out-numbered and outgunned. The loss of a single Skin Walker was unacceptable in Monroe’s eyes, which meant that he would avoid war at any cost, even if it meant trying to control Tyce. Tyce knew Monroe had been searching for a weakness in him, any weakness. There was none to be found. Unlike all the other Walkers who Monroe brought to heel by manipulating said Walker’s mate, or Angel, Tyce was proud to be without an Angel, without any form of personal attachment save for his relationship with the Sentries who chose to follow him into battle. Battles that happened to cost a small fortune, and had forced Tyce to expand into other ventures to fund his missions. Let Monroe merrily skip about, forcing happy endings for his Walkers. Tyce would remain firm in his goal to eradicate Skin Walker enemies.
Without knocking, Monroe entered the office flanked by his Chief of Security, King Mulholland.
Offering a grin that tugged on the recent scar bisecting the left side of his mouth, Tyce couldn’t help but goad, without bothering to stand, “Monroe. I see you still require a bodyguard.” His smile broadened at the dark scowl Monroe shot him before Monroe claimed a seat in front of the desk.
“I have a mission. I need your assistance.”
Direct and right to the point. It was actually one of the few things Tyce appreciated about Monroe. The two were polar opposites in everything, including appearance. Where Monroe was jet black hair, ice blue eyes, and crisp business suit that matched his attitude, Tyce was more laid back. While the men sported similar hairstyles, short on the sides, longer on top and slicked back in a formal manner, Monroe’s was a mop of inky black where Tyce’s hair was sandy blond. Often, people mistook Tyce’s eyes for blue, because from a distance that’s how they looked, and at a distance is how he liked to keep people. In all actuality, his eyes were a strange silver color, a color few would get the chance to ever see up close and personal.
The scars on his face were new, badges he’d earned in a recent rescue attempt gone awry. Unlike Monroe, Tyce actually preferred to participate in the various missions he commissioned for his Walkers. The last one had earned him a knife wound down one side of his face. It interrupted one dark eyebrow and extended onto the cheek below. As if that weren’t bad enough, a second injury was sustained on the same side of his face, where his lips had been slashed by an errant claw in the thick of the battle. C’est la vie. There were worse things than having one’s pretty face marred in battle.
Dressed in dark slacks and matching button-up shirt with sleeves rolled to mid-arm, Tyce looked downright casual compared to Monroe’s starched dark slacks and pressed suit coat.
“Aaah.” Tyce leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk. “Finally realized that you need a true Dominant’s aide?” He didn’t wait for a response. “What’s the mission and what do you need?”
“There’s a female…”
“Of course there is,” Tyce cut him off. “Isn’t there always where your missions are concerned?”
“It’s not that kind of mission. This female is different.”
“And your Sentries won’t do?”
“Most are mated,” Monroe muttered, feigning annoyance.
“Yes,” Tyce smiled. “That damn affliction thing. Finally coming back to bite you in the ass, eh?”
Monroe rolled his eyes as if he’d anticipated Tyce’s antagonism. Leaning back, the dark-haired Dominant relaxed in the chair, propping an ankle on his knee while pulling a bright red apple from his pocket. He made a show of slowly shining it on his sleeve before sinking even white teeth into the fruit.
Tyce merely smirked before sliding a desk drawer open and pulling out an orange. He wore an amused grin as he dug a thumbnail into the rind and began peeling; the only sound in the room was Monroe’s chewing as he watched Tyce in annoyance.
Fitting. Apples to oranges. Preservation versus domination. The two Dominants were alike in so many ways. Both intelligent, both calculating, and both self-serving; however, the differences in their leadership styles were vast, and so insurmountable that they couldn’t even reside at the same compound.
Coolly, Monroe offered, “This female has Intel on the Megalya safe house.”
Okay, that piqued his interest. “The safe house?”
Monroe grinned and Tyce knew he’d sounded too interested. He couldn’t help it. He’d been searching for the place for some time now.
“Yes. That safe house.”
Months prior, Monroe’s Skin Walkers, with the aid of the Keepers, had battled the Megalya and defeated them. There was one lone survivor on the enemy’s side. Sam. Tyce knew her because she’d actually infiltrated Apex—Tyce’s compound—by seducing one of Tyce’s men, Remy McCabe. As a prisoner, Sam hadn’t talked, and now that Bellis StCroix had claimed her, he’d taken his Angel into hiding, leaving the Walkers to find the Megalya safe house on their own.
The safe house was rumored to hold several Walker prisoners, but that wasn’t what interested Tyce. It was the purported tens of millions of dollars kept at the site that had Tyce’s hands itching for Monroe’s Intel. The Megalya didn’t want to take the chance of ever being traced, so all transactions were done in cold hard cash. Which meant that, somewhere, the proceeds from the sale of Walkers was sitting unprotected. And Tyce wanted it.
Monroe’s steely tone drew Tyce’s attention. “I need to find those prisoners.”
And I’ll take the money. “Sure.” Tyce’s wheels were already spinning. “I can provide a team, but it’ll cost you.”
Annoyance flashed across Monroe’s features and the sound of clenching teeth carried through the room. “The rescue of Skin Walkers and the preservation of their lives isn’t payment enough?”
Tyce smirked. “Maybe for you. I need something a little more…tangible.”
They both knew he meant payment from Monroe.
“Fine,” Monroe clipped out, “You’ll get what’s coming to you.”
Just to be clear, Tyce voiced his demand. “I get paid for the job, and I want the cash I find at the safe house.”
Monroe’s eyes hardened to sharp pinpoints of ice. “You’re a greedy bastard, Tyce Steele.”
“Yes.” Tyce didn’t even bother denying it. “I am. But if you want my aid, that’s the price. You get a woman and rescued Walkers, and I get paid and I keep the Megalya cash. Do we have a deal or not?”
“You heartless prick!”
Tyce was back to smiling. “Do we have a deal?”
“Fine!” Monroe barked.
“What do I need to know?”
“D.C.” Monroe responded without preamble. “You’ll need to send a Sentry that’s versed in wealth. She’s a spoiled little thing. A wealthy brat who’d scent a fake a mile away. None of your boys’ll do.” There was a pregnant pause before Monroe offered, “I’ll see if Mason will…”
“Fuck off!” Tyce sneered, insulted at the implication that neither he nor any of his men would fit the bill. “Send me the Intel you’ve got, it’s all I’ll need from you.”
Standing, Tyce strode to the door, pulling it open and turning to stare pointedly at Monroe.
“Well,” Monroe looked from Tyce over his shoulder to King. “Guess that means we’re finished here.” Standing, he buttoned his jacket as King followed him to the door. He didn’t look at Tyce as he passed. “I’ll expect a report as soon as you’ve located the woman.”
Tyce snorted, and as soon as King crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut. He had no idea that in the hall, Monroe’s face cracked into an all-out smile.