Smoke & Mirrors (THIRDS 7) - Page 1

Chapter 1

SOUND EXPLODED in Dex’s ears. His head throbbed, and his face hurt. He tasted blood, and his body didn’t feel like his own as he struggled through the lethargy. His limbs felt heavy, like he was swimming in molasses. With a groan, he forced his eyes open. It was dark save for the halo of light floating somewhere above his head. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was Sloane’s strong arms around him, wrapping him up in warmth, holding him close. Sloane had nuzzled his face in Dex’s hair, then kissed him good night, followed by a soft “I love you.”

Sloane….

Dex bolted upright, a gasp caught in his throat as he surfaced through the haze. His eyes widened, and his heart beat furiously as he realized his wrists and ankles were zip-tied to a chair.

“What the hell is this?” He looked up and reeled from the stabbing white light. It seared his vision, and he shut his eyes tight for several seconds. A halo was all he could see before he was finally able to focus on the stretch of nothingness around him. Shadows surrounded him on all sides, the only light coming from the lamp hanging over his head. “Hello?” It struck him then.

They’d taken him from his home.

Oh God, where was Sloane? His blood ran cold, and he jerked against the restraints. “Somebody answer me!”

“You’re awake. Good.”

Dex froze. He peered into the shadows and could just about make out an outline, along with the glow of eyes. A Therian.

“Who are you? What is this?” Dex demanded, his voice hoarse from his dry throat. It was like his mouth was full of cotton. Most likely a result from whatever they’d given him to knock him out. He did his best to ignore the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Someone had broken into his house and taken him from his boyfriend’s arms. He had no idea where Sloane was or the condition he was in. Was he hurt… or worse? Please let him be okay.

“I’ll be the one asking the questions here, Agent Daley.”

“Where’s Sloane?”

A tall wolf Therian in an expensive gray suit emerged from the shadows. “Looking for you, I imagine. I don’t really care. My interest lies with you, not Sloane Brodie.”

Dex had expected a thug or a raging psychopath. The Therian before him didn’t appear to be either, but appearances could be deceiving. Refined, smooth, chiseled jaw, and handsome, with rich black hair neatly styled, he looked to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties. The Therian cocked his head to one side, his sharp gray eyes studying Dex. He seemed to come to some kind of conclusion and pulled a chair out from the darkness to place in front of Dex.

Dex studied his adversary, noting how nonchalantly he unbuttoned his tailored suit jacket and took a seat. He crossed one leg over the other and placed his laced fingers over one knee, as if he were about to have an informal business chat.

“Where is it?” he asked smoothly.

“Why do you spooks always start with such cryptic questions?” Dex frowned down at himself. “Why am I in a suit?” He was pretty sure he’d gone to bed in a T-shirt and pajama bottoms. The suit was tailored to fit. Everything from the black dress pants to the pristine white button-down shirt to the black jacket fit like a glove. Even his shoes hugged his feet comfortably. “How do you know my shoe size?”

“I know everything about you.”

Dex glanced around the room. There were no cameras, windows, nothing but the bare concrete floor and walls. “Why?”

“Where is the file?”

“Why the tie?” This was bizarre. Someone had painstakingly fixed a tie around his neck while he’d been unconscious. Who kidnapped people and dressed them up in fancy clothes?

“Answer the question.”

“How about we start small,” Dex offered. “What do I call you?” He needed to figure a way out of this. There had to be a door somewhere behind the Therian. The guy hadn’t just materialized out of thin air. Of course, first Dex would have to get himself out of the chair. It was steel and bolted to the floor.

“Don’t act cute with me, Agent Daley.” The wolf Therian smiled pleasantly. “And you can call me Mr. Wolf.”

Mr. Wolf. Right. “Now who’s being cute?”

Wolf chuckled. “I do appreciate a man with a good sense of humor. You’re very charming.” He looked Dex over and smiled warmly. “You’re taller than I imagined, and your photo hardly does you justice. You’re far more handsome in person.” He motioned to his own eyes. “Beautiful color. Absolutely stunning.”

Dex leaned forward, his lips curling up wickedly. “You trying to get information out of me or date me?”

Wolf chuckled. “I can see you’re going to be a handful. All right, Agent Daley—May I call you Dex? Agent seems so formal.”

“Sure.”

“Dex, your little ‘I’m just a ditzy blond’ act isn’t going to fly with me. I know perfectly well who you are and what you’re capable of.”

Tags: Charlie Cochet THIRDS Romance
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