Were We Belong Read online

  “Seth knows we’re here,” Nicolai told us. “My brother’s on the tenth floor in his office. We’re to wait by the bank of elevators until he comes for us.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “Try not to kill anyone unless you absolutely have to.”

  Dima nodded and chuckled. “Roger that. Dragons already have a bad rep. We won’t add to it. Just get what you need and we’re out.”

  “If Seth has heard anything, take notes,” Hank instructed. “Even if it seems useless.”

  “Will do.” Nicolai said as he nodded.

  He and Dima walked to the left. Hank and I walked to the right. The hallways were unusually empty.

  “What gives?” I asked as we moved at a quick clip down the corridor.

  We’d skipped the elevator in favor of the stairs. The Bobs had a bank of TV screens in their shared and obnoxiously large office. The cameras in the elevators were outstanding. The stairs? Not so much. Plus, we stayed close to the walls, which would only give them a shadowy view.

  And the electrified state of my hair should throw them off as well. I suppose looking a mess could pay off. Who knew?

  “It’s lunchtime,” Hank speculated. “Hopefully the Bobs brown-bagged it today.”

  “Shit,” I muttered, realizing he was correct. “Well, if they’re not in we’ll make ourselves comfortable until they get back.

  “Maybe a quickie on their desk,” Hank suggested with a panty melting grin that made we want to slam him up against the wall and boink him until neither of us could walk.

  “God, I hope they’re out to lunch.”

  The shouting from within the Bobs’ office didn’t bode well for a quickie. It also didn’t bode well for whoever was inside.

  “Essie. Hank. It’s nice to see you,” Reginald said dryly from behind his desk, not meaning a word of it.

  Reginald was an imposing man. He’d served as the assistant to the Bobs for a century or two… or ten. I had no clue how old the Werewolf was, but I’d never seen him crack so much as a smile in the entire time I’d been in the WTF.

  Reginald knew everything. I was pretty sure the entire Federation would fall to pieces if he ever quit. However, that didn’t stop me from giving the man shit. It was sort of a perverse mission of mine. Hank didn’t like it. Of course, my mate wasn’t as into playing with fire like I was. I’d been able to throw Reginald off his game a few times in the last several months which had provided some interesting info.

  “Liar, liar, pants of fire,” I replied with a smile. “You have egg salad in your stash, dude.”

  Reginald’s hand quickly went to his handlebar mustache and he swiped at it. His eyes then narrowed as he growled at me. “I didn’t have egg salad for lunch.”

  “Whoops,” I said as I sat on the edge of his desk. “Maybe it was snot.”

  “Essie,” Hank said with a warning in his voice.

  “What? I’m just helping him out,” I shot back lightly. “What’s been happening, Reggie? Anything interesting?”

  “It’s Reginald. And no.”

  “My bad. Reginald. And you’re lying.”

  He shrugged and went back to his paperwork. Dumb move. As much as he didn’t like it, I was now his superior. If the Bobs weren’t going to keep me up to speed, someone else was going to have to.

  “Who’s in the Bobs’ office?”

  Reginald was silent.

  “Who am I?” I asked casually as I picked up a glass paperweight in the likeness of Cher and eyed it with curiosity.

  “Put that down,” Reginald snapped.

  “Answer my question,” I replied as I tossed the Cher head in the air and noticed there was also a Lady Gaga paperweight and a Barbra Streisand one too. Interesting. I had long suspected Reginald played on Dwayne’s team. That fact didn’t bother me a bit but his blatant disrespect did.

  “Essie McGee Wilson.”

  “Correct. And my position?”

  Reginald’s eyes narrowed and he growled low in his throat. “You are on the WTF Council.”

  “Correct again, Reginald.” I gently put his bizarre choice of paperweight back on his desk and got up in his face. “Who is in the office with the Bobs?”

  “Clark and Jones.”

  “Why?” I demanded. Nothing at this point was going to get by without Hank’s and my knowledge.

  “They fucked up,” he said flatly.

  Before I could find out why, a very pale Clark and Jones exited the Bobs’ ridiculously formal office. I used to be just a regular WTF agent. Clark and Jones had been part of my team. They weren’t incredibly fond of me then… and the feeling was mutual.

  They’d always gotten the good cases because they were men. Gender bias wasn’t flying at WTF anymore. We had a new sheriff in town. I was the first woman ever to serve on the Council and I was now instrumental in spreading the love. Women at WTF now got equal pay and equal rights.

  Times… they were a-changin’.

  Of course, this didn’t make anyone at WTF any fonder of me.

  “McGee,” Clark said with a curt nod.

  “Clark,” I replied coolly. “Problem?”

  “Not at all,” Jones mumbled shakily as he pushed Clark towards the door.

  We were no longer on the same playing field but I wasn’t in the mood for half answers at the moment. I’d had enough of that from the Bobs.

  Hank stepped in front of the door, blocking their exit. He didn’t say a word and didn’t have to. It was common knowledge that Hank had defeated a Dragon single-handedly. No one wanted to mess with him—not to mention he was also a member of the WTF Council.

  “I do believe I asked you a question, boys,” I said calmly.

  Clark and Jones stiffened. If I wasn’t mistaken—and I wasn’t—Reginald chuckled. My former co-workers clearly didn’t know what to make of my placid demeanor. I was usually a fight-first and talk-after kind of gal. That was then. This was now. I was a far different woman than when we had worked together several years ago.

  “We’ve been demoted,” Clark admitted with great reluctance as his fists clenched at his sides.

  If his fangs so much as dropped even a little bit, I was going to smack down on his arrogant ass. They’d caught me on a bad day.

  “Why?” I demanded.

  Their silence coming directly after Reginald’s was the last straw. My kind understood violence. It was archaic and stupid, but it was what it was. Proving myself repeatedly was getting tiresome, but a girl had to do what a girl had to do.

  Hank grinned. His fangs peeked out from his full lips. It was incredibly hot. My man was all kinds of crazy. He got turned on when I went apeshit on idiots. Well, he was about to get really horny. I was going to get some respect… the Werewolf way.

  Faster than a human eye could track, I disarmed both Clark and Jones. With a swift and brutal kick to Clark’s knees, I knocked him to the floor. His legs now bent in the wrong direction. He would heal in a few hours. Shifters recovered quickly. I wasn’t going for the kill at all. I was just sick and tired of the disregard shown by these idiots.

  They were part of a problem. I liked solving problems.

  As he rolled around in agony, Jones tried to best me. He lost. A well-placed right jab to his stomach had him coughing so hard it sounded like he had an enormous hairball caught in his throat. I finished him off with a knee to his junk that made him scream in an octave that made both Hank and Reginald gasp in phantom pain.

  Tossing Jones on top of Clark, I pulled up a chair and sat down in front of them. “Have you had enough?” I inquired politely.

  “Yesssss,” Clark hissed. “You broke my damn legs.”

  “Better than your neck, don’t you think?” I asked.

  “I think so,” Hank chimed in supportively.

  My mate always had my back.

  “Tell me why you were demoted,” I demanded. “Now.”

  “What an unpleasant surprise,” Bob Harold said, stepping out from his chambers and taking in the now destroyed lobby of h
is office suite. “Was this entirely necessary?”

  “Yep.” I stood up and approached the imperious man. Strangely with each encounter, I became less afraid of him. “I asked a question. Jones and Clark didn’t answer it. I nudged them a little.”

  “A little?” Bob Harold asked with a raised brow.

  “Trust me,” Hank said, stepping up next to me. “That was a little nudge. There would be no office left if it had been a big nudge.”

  “This is true,” I confirmed, glaring straight at Bob Harold. “You see, I’m getting really tired of not getting answers when I ask questions. Makes me antsy. But do you want to know what makes me want to kill shit?”

  “I’m quite sure I don’t,” Bob Harold stated, glaring right back at me.

  “Oh, but I think it would be to your benefit if you knew,” I replied with sarcasm dripping from each word.

  Again, I was fairly sure that Reginald chuckled.

  “Half answers. Omitted information. You know… general bureaucratic bullshittery. Those are the things that make me want to do so much damage that no one would survive it. You feel me, dude?”

  “Why don’t you step into the office,” Bob Hiram said, joining the party. “Unless this is a social visit and then we can go to the cafeteria.”

  “Are you freakin’ serious?” I asked.

  “Completely,” Bob Hiram replied.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I shot them a look that made most cringe and run for cover. “Does this look like a social visit?”

  “I’d vote no to that,” Reginald chimed in, seeming to enjoy the shit show that was unfolding.

  “Your office. Now,” I snapped at the strangely calm Bobs. “Reginald, please put Clark and Jones in my office. Cuff them, tie them up and gag them.”

  Reginald looked to the Bobs for approval and I rolled my eyes.

  “Fine. I’ll do it myself,” I said as I moved to the moaning pile of Clark and Jones.

  “Not necessary,” Bob Herm said. “Reginald will take care of it. Please blindfold them as well.”

  “Yes, sir,” Reginald said as he jerked Jones and Clark up and dragged them from the lobby.

  “Please join us,” Bob Herm said. “We were about to partake in lunch.”

  “Not hungry,” I said rudely as I marched ahead of them into their office. “I’m here for answers. Period.”

  And I had no intention of leaving without them.

  Chapter Five

  “For such an exquisitely beautiful woman, you are quite violent,” Bob Herm pointed out as he offered Hank and me a cheese tray.

  “Thank you,” I replied, ignoring the cheese. I loved cheese. However, the sneaky bastards were not going to distract me with brie.

  “It wasn’t a compliment,” Bob Harold said as he gestured politely for Hank and me to take a seat.

  “Ahh, but it was,” I shot back. “You knew exactly who I was when you basically blackmailed me into joining the WTF Council. My looks are hereditary, so I can only guess that you’re impressed with my prowess. And might I add… pot, kettle, black about the violent part?”

  “Touché,” Bob Hiram said with a shrug. “To what do we owe this surprise visit? I believe you’re supposed to be supervising the summoning of a Demon.”

  “Oh my golly gee, you’re right,” I said as I slapped myself in the forehead. “How could I forget something sooooooo important? Crazy isn’t it?”

  “I’m not following,” Bob Harold said, watching me warily.

  “Of course you are,” I replied as I gave in and grabbed the entire block of brie. “Everyone forgets. Right? Maybe even the Bobs forget?”

  “State your complaint,” Bob Harold snapped, glancing over at the others.

  “State the fucking facts, gentlemen,” Hank countered, joining in as he propped his combat boot-clad feet on the priceless coffee table much to the Bobs’ dismay. “All of them. Like the last Jazz Cabbage outbreak for starters.”

  Again, glances were exchanged.

  “It’s not related,” Bob Hiram stated flatly. “It was forty years ago.”

  “I want to bash their heads together,” I told Hank telepathically. As mated Werewolves, we could communicate in this nifty way.

  “Not your best idea,” Hank replied.

  “It would feel sooooo good,” I whined.

  “Things that feel great in the moment don’t always work out well in the long run. It’s about the long game, baby.”

  “What about sex?” I asked.

  “Sex doesn’t count. Sex is always good.”

  “So sex is good and don’t go apeshit on the Bobs?”

  “Bingo.”

  “What if they don’t come clean?” I questioned.

  “Then we both go apeshit on the Bobs.”

  I considered Hank’s advice. It was solid. However, I still wanted to bash the Bobs. But I’d grown smarter over the last few years. As much as I wanted a go at the Bobs, there was a fine chance I wouldn’t come out of it alive.

  “Deal,” I said.

  “That’s my girl. Keep them talking. And if we get out of the building without killing anyone, we can go to the amazing taco joint on the outskirts of Chicago.”

  “Oh. My. God. That might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I told him, trying not to laugh. It wouldn’t do to have the Bobs know we were conversing. However, the taco joint Hank was referring to was positively orgasmic.

  “Well, shit,” Hank shot back with a chuckle. “I’m gonna have to step up my game. Go back to work, baby. Clock’s ticking.”

  “How do you know the last outbreak isn’t related?” I demanded of the Bobs, slapping the cheese down on a brocade table runner that was probably hundreds of years old.

  All three of the Bobs winced in pain as they watched the cheese become one with the irreplaceable piece of fabric. I felt a little bad about that. I now knew why Granny covered everything in her house with plastic. I was kind of messy.

  “Sorry,” I said, trying to peel the cheese up which only made it worse. Instead, I dropped a monogrammed napkin over it. Out of sight, out of mind. “However, I repeat. How do you know it wasn’t related?”

  “There were no Demons involved,” Bob Hiram said. “It was an experiment.”

  That floored me… and horrified me. “Run by who?”

  “Scientists.”

  “WTF scientists?” Hank ground out as he stood up.

  Bob Hiram sighed and sat down. “Yes,” he admitted with what I thought might be regret. “They were able to create Jazz Cabbage in a lab—no Demons involved.”

  “Why?” I asked, wondering how sick and insane the Council really was.

  “Because knowledge is power,” Bob Harold said without a shred of emotion.

  “And death of innocent Weres was just a silly byproduct?” I snarled. “What is wrong with you people?”

  “Is it wrong to kill a few to save millions?” Bob Herm asked.

  “When did you become God?” I snapped. “Your logic is appalling.”

  I sat down heavily, picked up a banana and then thought better of it. I needed something that wouldn’t cause property damage when I threw it or squashed it into the furniture. I settled for some crackers.

  “We knew about Devil’s Lettuce. We didn’t believe it was a real threat,” Bob Hiram said.

  “Short-sighted on our part,” Bob Herm added. “We created it to see if there was an antidote—a way to render it impotent. We needed a way to fight the Demons if it became necessary.”

  “And?” I asked, knowing what the answer would be.

  “And we failed,” Bob Harold said in a hollow tone. “The Weres in the experiment had to be destroyed. They became so violent we couldn’t control them.”

  “So you killed them?” Hank growled.

  “Not exactly. We let them kill each other.”

  The silence was deafening. I felt ill.

  “How do you know this isn’t some kind of experiment again?” I fired out, furious.


  Bob Harold ran his bland and deadly hands through his nondescript brownish hair. “The Vampyre sensed a Demon in the warehouse. We felt the Demonic presence as well.”

  “Plus the Were scientists who developed the batch of Devil’s Lettuce are with us no more,” Bob Herm informed us.

  “Do I want to pursue that one?” I asked.

  “No. No, you don’t,” Bob Herm assured me. “Suffice it to say, that chapter of our history has been put to bed.”

  “Six feet under?” I asked.

  “More than that,” Bob Herm confirmed. “There was no reason to bring it up, so we didn’t.”

  I silently mulled over what they had just revealed. It made me sick and ashamed to be part of an organization that would do what they had done. I wasn’t exactly alive or in charge when the heinous experiment had gone down, but it was part of the legacy of this place. I needed a new damned job.

  “What else have you omitted?” If they said nothing, I was going to have an accident with the four open bottles of red wine that were perched on the full-service bar. I’m sure they would look beautiful splashed all over the wildly expensive rugs we were standing on. If I couldn’t bash their heads in, I could certainly leave a few ugly reminders of my visit.

  “You have the files,” Bob Herm said. “Everything we know is in there—pictures, locations, dates, approximate times of death. What more do you need?”

  I was at a loss. I didn’t know what I needed… except my head examined for staying part of this organization. I needed to know everything I didn’t know. However, the Bobs were very literal and I didn’t have the correct questions. Shitshitshit.

  “Why were Clark and Jones demoted?” Hank asked.

  Bob Harold sighed and poured himself a glass of wine. “They made decisions that weren’t theirs to make.”

  “Would you like to be more specific?” I picked up the cheese tray and held it over my head.

  “Are you serious?” Bob Harold asked in an astonished tone as he took in what I was about to do.

  “Quite,” I replied with a smile. “Since it would be bad and potentially deadly form to rip you idiots new assholes, I have to go with a simpler plan.”