He slowed down as the truck maneuvered through a narrow entrance, stopping near the booth that housed Cracker, the night security guard. It had been almost a year since Jaxon had visited the premises, but Cracker was used to the secretive comings and goings of the certain select few who were allowed access.
The truck ground to a halt as Cracker stepped from his safe haven, a large semiautomatic perched lazily against his leg. The man was about forty-five, tall, broad-shouldered, and mean as all hell. He was ex-military, having resigned his commission after being in Iraq for several years.
He wasn’t one hundred percent human either.
His scent had always thrown Jaxon for a loop; it was something he’d never come across before. The man had never volunteered his lineage, but as long as he did his job, and did it well, Jaxon didn’t give a shit if oil ran through his veins.
As the truck slowly pulled up alongside him, Cracker’s eyes—so pale they were almost white—drifted toward the passenger that lay huddled against the door. They narrowed. It was the only noticeable sign of surprise, and his face quickly resumed the blank facade that was the norm, before acknowledging his boss.
“Evening, Castille. Declan’s already inside.”
“Thanks.”
With those few words, Jaxon proceeded through the gates until he was inside the center of a large courtyard type area. The entire perimeter was fenced in, with full coverage from security cameras and two roving dogs that were trained to kill on command.
In front of him was a series of eight large doors that led to a large underground parking facility. He drove the truck to the very end, depressing the remote inside his cab. The heavy steel door began to slowly recede, and he was able to drive through.
Once inside, he pulled into his spot and cut the motor. Jaxon sighed softly, his lips pursed into a hard thin line as he glanced at the still slumbering woman.
Libby had slept fitfully on and off the last forty-five minutes of the drive, occasionally moaning loudly and jerking her body wildly. Nightmares.
That was something they both shared.
He glanced to the left, smiling for the first time at the sight of the vehicle parked there. The long, sleek lines of the low riding viper were so Declan. It had been much too long since he’d been with his fellow operatives.
They’d been family once.
Until a little slip of ass had decided it would be a great idea to betray them. Once again anger flared. His eyes raked sparks of fire over Libby as the intensity of his emotions flushed his skin a deep red.
She’d stolen a lot more than Diego from him that day.
And she would pay dearly.
Jaxon swung the door open, sliding from the cab with the sinuous grace that came so naturally to his kind. His eyes were always moving, and he noticed there was only the one other vehicle parked inside the cavernous garage.
Guess Ana had decided not to join the party early. He slowly rubbed the kinks from the tense cords in his neck. She’d show. Although with the coming dawn, it wouldn’t be until later in the afternoon or early evening.
Yeah, he’d been away far too long. It felt good to be back, with a mission in hand, and a host of butts out there just waiting to be kicked.
He turned back to the vehicle and lugged the large bag from the back of the truck. After securing it around his shoulders, he opened the passenger door and grabbed Libby as if she weighed nothing. Which, given her state, wasn’t an exaggeration. The woman had lost some serious weight and probably tipped the scales at a buck ten, if that, soaking wet.
He quickly crossed to an elevator that opened only after a successful retinal scan and palm print. Once he’d initiated the procedure, it took less than a minute for him to exit the lift and step into the main area of the loft.
His loft.
And headquarters to the best damn paranormal antiterrorist team on the planet.
Magicks, lycans, vampires, and shifters had always existed alongside humans, invisible and silent, governed by their own. But over the last century things had shifted. Lines that were drawn straight and true had become blurred. New alliances had been formed as old ones were broken.
The general human populace was still unaware of the various creatures that walked the earth alongside them. And while most of the paranormals were content to exist in silence, there was a faction that needed to be watched closely. The ones that had no mind to heed their own laws, let alone the human ones.
It was up to organizations like PATU to police them. They were government sanctioned, and his unit had been the best. But after Diego’s death the team had disbanded and Declan turned to freelance work, while Ana was reassigned.
As for himself, Jaxon had always worked when he chose to, and had just recently returned from a particular nasty mission in the wilds of South America. It had taken well over a year out of his life, and he’d truly been at a crossroads when the information on Libby just fell into his lap.
Nice and easy. And like a fool he’d run with it and almost gotten killed.
He continued into the large atrium that was the focal point of the loft, his long l