mail and walked around the desk to come face-to-face with her. Her pulse jumped as his eyes flashed iridescent. It was never far from the surface.
“What happens to the Shifters you capture or kill?” he asked softly.
She blinked at the off-topic question. “The cleanup crew takes care of them.”
“Which means what?”
She shrugged. “They bag them and take them away. I don’t know what they do with the dead ones, but they put the live ones on ice. Freezing them is the only safe containment solution we have right now.”
Dempsey’s tone turned bitter. “But they don’t have any problem developing new weapons. Jail cells must be low on the priority list.”
Seneca studied him and realized that he was furious. What did he expect? “It’s the best we can do.”
She watched as Dempsey moved closer. His eyes were dark and unfriendly. “Then how do they know that their new weapons will work on Shifters?”
For a moment, she went blank. Then her mind kicked in. “Wait, you don’t think they’re using our captures for experiments or something?”
“How are they testing the weapons?” he pressed.
She put her hands on her hips. “Maybe they use rats.”
“Works for human testing, why not?” Then Dempsey smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile. “Do you really think it’s that hard to come up with a cell for a Shifter?”
He was trying to confuse her. “Yes, I do.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’d like to think that. It’d justify your job.”
She said, “It’s not my decision whether or not to make cells a priority.”
“No, but it is your decision to work here.”
“If you Shifters weren’t here, then I wouldn’t be here,” she snapped back.
“Do you think XCEL will stop at the bad Shifters? What about the others? The ones who want nothing more than to be left alone?”
Now he was pissing her off. “I don’t know. All the Shifters I meet tend to kill and maim. Maybe deep down you’re all bad.”
His gaze held as if he was going to say something, and then he shook his head in disgust.
“My mistake,” he said. “I thought you were different.”
You have no idea. “I guess not.” She shoved Dillinger’s folder into his hands. “We’re working late again.”
He shoved it back. “Can’t. I’m taking the night off.”
She gaped at him. “You just started here.”
He walked back to his desk. “Prior engagement.”
“MacGregor—”
Dempsey cut in. “MacGregor knows.”
Sonofabitch, he went behind her back. “Got a hot date or something?”
He grinned, and she could have sworn she heard a growl. “Or something.”
For some reason, her gut tightened and her interest took a mean turn. “So you are blowing off work for date?”
Dempsey pulled on his leather jacket. “It’s personal.”
She waited but he didn’t elaborate, and she wouldn’t ask. No, she’d just stand here and fume. It would be petty to pry. She crossed her arms. Fine, she was petty. “Does your date know what you are?”
He hesitated just long enough for her to know she’d hit her mark. “Believe it or not, I have Shifter friends. Some of them don’t even murder people.” He fixed his sleeves. “Are you done?”
Seneca felt the heat rise in her face. “Be home by midnight.”
Dempsey gave her a long, lingering look that made her want to squirm. She could only imagine his effect on other women. Thick hair, square jaw, intense eyes, and a body made for long, hot nights. How hard would it be for him to get a date? Seconds.
“Think you can stay out of trouble until tomorrow?” he asked.
She smiled. “I’m sure I’ll find something to do.”
“That’s what worries me,” he said, and then he brushed by her and left.
Seneca sat down at her desk and tossed the file on the desk. The last five minutes felt like three rounds in the ring. Working with Dempsey was exhausting.
She drummed her fingernails on her desk. So what exactly did Dempsey do in his free time? Besides dating
“What happens to the Shifters you capture or kill?” he asked softly.
She blinked at the off-topic question. “The cleanup crew takes care of them.”
“Which means what?”
She shrugged. “They bag them and take them away. I don’t know what they do with the dead ones, but they put the live ones on ice. Freezing them is the only safe containment solution we have right now.”
Dempsey’s tone turned bitter. “But they don’t have any problem developing new weapons. Jail cells must be low on the priority list.”
Seneca studied him and realized that he was furious. What did he expect? “It’s the best we can do.”
She watched as Dempsey moved closer. His eyes were dark and unfriendly. “Then how do they know that their new weapons will work on Shifters?”
For a moment, she went blank. Then her mind kicked in. “Wait, you don’t think they’re using our captures for experiments or something?”
“How are they testing the weapons?” he pressed.
She put her hands on her hips. “Maybe they use rats.”
“Works for human testing, why not?” Then Dempsey smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile. “Do you really think it’s that hard to come up with a cell for a Shifter?”
He was trying to confuse her. “Yes, I do.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’d like to think that. It’d justify your job.”
She said, “It’s not my decision whether or not to make cells a priority.”
“No, but it is your decision to work here.”
“If you Shifters weren’t here, then I wouldn’t be here,” she snapped back.
“Do you think XCEL will stop at the bad Shifters? What about the others? The ones who want nothing more than to be left alone?”
Now he was pissing her off. “I don’t know. All the Shifters I meet tend to kill and maim. Maybe deep down you’re all bad.”
His gaze held as if he was going to say something, and then he shook his head in disgust.
“My mistake,” he said. “I thought you were different.”
You have no idea. “I guess not.” She shoved Dillinger’s folder into his hands. “We’re working late again.”
He shoved it back. “Can’t. I’m taking the night off.”
She gaped at him. “You just started here.”
He walked back to his desk. “Prior engagement.”
“MacGregor—”
Dempsey cut in. “MacGregor knows.”
Sonofabitch, he went behind her back. “Got a hot date or something?”
He grinned, and she could have sworn she heard a growl. “Or something.”
For some reason, her gut tightened and her interest took a mean turn. “So you are blowing off work for date?”
Dempsey pulled on his leather jacket. “It’s personal.”
She waited but he didn’t elaborate, and she wouldn’t ask. No, she’d just stand here and fume. It would be petty to pry. She crossed her arms. Fine, she was petty. “Does your date know what you are?”
He hesitated just long enough for her to know she’d hit her mark. “Believe it or not, I have Shifter friends. Some of them don’t even murder people.” He fixed his sleeves. “Are you done?”
Seneca felt the heat rise in her face. “Be home by midnight.”
Dempsey gave her a long, lingering look that made her want to squirm. She could only imagine his effect on other women. Thick hair, square jaw, intense eyes, and a body made for long, hot nights. How hard would it be for him to get a date? Seconds.
“Think you can stay out of trouble until tomorrow?” he asked.
She smiled. “I’m sure I’ll find something to do.”
“That’s what worries me,” he said, and then he brushed by her and left.
Seneca sat down at her desk and tossed the file on the desk. The last five minutes felt like three rounds in the ring. Working with Dempsey was exhausting.
She drummed her fingernails on her desk. So what exactly did Dempsey do in his free time? Besides dating
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