Primal Law (Alpha Pack #1)(29)
"Who's got the bodies?" Zan asked.
"Melina and her team will have them as of this morning, when they pick them up from the coroner. We'll be able to learn a lot more about the victims after they conduct some tests, much more than a few crime scene pics will tell us."
Aric leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the table. "This is all real fascinating, but I don't see what we can do here. I mean, point me at a demon or whatever and I'll smoke it. Fuck, we're soldiers, not detectives."
"Well, it looks like you'll have to be both," Nick snapped. "Unless you've got another Paranormal Black Ops team on speed dial to take this mess off our hands. No? Didn't think so."
Aric shut his trap, but shook his head, his displeasure clear.
Nick parked his ass on the corner of the table. "Our advantage is our Psy skills. We'll use all of our resources to get a lead on what happened to these poor guys, and why. Which brings us to the drifter in the cemetery. Witnesses report he's young, early to midtwenties, with collar-length black hair. Deveraux personally ran him off night before last. Said he's very Goth, wears a heavy silver pentagram, three studs in each ear, black eyeliner, and a black leather duster. Translation-he ain't from Wyoming."
That got a good laugh from everyone.
"All kidding aside, in light of the discovery of the bodies and their proximity to the cemetery, he's a person of interest. Deveraux got his name-Kalen Black. Go figure. If the bodies had been found at the time, he would've held the guy for questioning. Tonight we'll stake out the cemetery, see if he shows. If he doesn't, we'll ask around and try to pin down where he might've gone. We'll leave at sunset. Questions?"
No one had any, and Jaxon made himself scarce before anyone could ask him where he was going. Hell, this was supposed to be their weekend off, and that had sure been shot to shit, hadn't it? He was entitled to some of the R & R they'd all been forced to abort last night, and he didn't feel one bit guilty about taking his due or not inviting his friends to ride into Cody. They were big boys.
And where he was going, he didn't need any tagalongs.
Instead of taking one of the team's black Mercedes SUVs, he jumped onto his baby-a sleek silver and dark blue Honda Shadow ACE 750, a big, bad boy with plenty of power for the road. Aric and Zan were Harley men, but in Jaxon's opinion the brand was overrated. Appalled, the other two declared that was just "un-American." It was a friendly debate they kept going while tinkering in the garage and flexing their muscles, so to speak.
Slipping on his shades, Jaxon took the winding road away from the compound, relishing the wind in his face, raking cool fingers through his hair. Wearing a helmet would've been the smart thing, regardless of the fact that adults in Wyoming weren't required to, but he was feeling a little reckless. Even a shifter couldn't heal from his brains being splattered all over the pavement, but for a while he simply wanted to feel free. Not trapped by rules and regs.
Not to mention by his own nature.
The miles slipped away and he roared into Cody more relaxed. But no less aroused. The purr of the machine between his legs hadn't helped, but he was going to get that remedied very soon.
Forcing himself not to think about how he'd gotten into this state, or who was responsible, he turned onto the familiar street in the older neighborhood and turned up a weed-choked driveway as he'd done several times before. An ugly thought crept in and he tamped it down with an effort.
He was not using Jacee. Hell, she got every bit as much satisfaction from their scorching interludes as he did. All she had to do was say no and order him not to come around anymore, and he wouldn't. No big deal. But she never once had.
So he parked behind her Focus, shut off the engine, and strode to the door. Fist raised, he hesitated, and then knocked, ignoring the greasy feeling in his gut. It was probably his breakfast refusing to settle. Eggs messed with his stomach sometimes.
When Jacee opened up wearing a big smile and stepped aside to let him in, he pushed everything but her from his mind. As she locked the door, he took in her skintight jeans and the snug white top with spaghetti straps that rode just above her midriff and showed off her flat, toned belly. She wore no bra today, and the white cotton hugged full br**sts, dark ni**les clearly outlined underneath. They puckered under his hungry gaze, anticipating what was to come.
"Wonder what brings you to my humble abode, hmm?" Stalking him like a cat, the brunette stepped up and pressed her lush body against his, twining her arms around his neck. Her full br**sts were squashed against his chest and her crotch rode his erection, grinding into him suggestively.
"What do you think, gorgeous?" he replied teasingly. "You got a problem with that?"
"Do I ever?" Her voice was like whiskey, smooth and dangerous. "Damn, it's been too long."
His body responded and he captured her mouth, thrusting his tongue inside. She was a tall woman, so he didn't have to bend his head to enjoy the kiss. She was all curves, built like an Amazon, arms strong from tending bar and tossing out drunken patrons at work. She was tough, rough, sexual, and liked her men the same.
So unlike pretty little Kira.
The thought was so unwelcome, he broke the kiss in reflex and stared into Jacee's brown eyes. They were smoky with lust as she grinned and palmed the rod in his jeans, stroking it.