The two texts were of an address and a list of the contents of a bag he’d found. She’d run everything through the computers, coming up with a name, Robert Slakeman of Slakeman Enterprises. Slakeman was a defense contractor. His weapons armed the U.S. military and some high-level cartel members, as recently alleged by a few FBI agents on the West Coast. Nivea had no idea what any of this had to do with the hybrids or what the shifters were dealing with now, but she certainly planned to ask Eli when he returned to Havenway.
She’d just finished viewing the picture message when there was a knock on the door. Her bed was on the far side of the room, her dresser and a desk closest to the door. She moved past both and pulled the door open, not in a million years expecting who was on the other side.
“Long time no see,” Richard Cannon said, making his way inside her room without an invitation.
Nivea’s heart immediately pounded and while she would have preferred he’d stayed out in the hallway, she wasn’t about to make a scene that would alert everyone that he was here. As she closed the door she wondered how he’d managed to get inside anyway, considering Rome and Nick were looking into his financial dealings. Maybe that wasn’t public knowledge as of yet, which would be the only reason the guards at the gate would have allowed him passage. That and the fact that he was a shifter and her father.
She sighed with that thought.
“What do you want?” was her question the moment the door was closed and she was relatively sure nobody would overhear what was going on.
Some would say he looked good for a fifty-seven-year-old man, with his black suit, crisp white shirt, and slate-gray tie. His hair was midnight black and combed back from his face so that his thick eyebrows and expertly cut mustache were prominent. Money really did do wonders, she thought, because the asshole that lived in those clothes would never be more than a dirty, scumbag pervert in her eyes, no matter what he wore.
“Is that any way to greet your father, whom you haven’t seen for years?” he asked, looking around her room as if there might be something there he had interest in.
Nivea knew that was not true. There was nothing at Havenway that interested her father. Nothing the Shadow Shifters were doing that he wanted to be a part of. After all, his number one goal for the last thirty years had been to kill off whatever shifter children he could in an effort to end the breed entirely because he believed the world would never accept them. He was the biggest, sorriest kind of hypocrite there was. While his nonprofit foundation boasted how many children they helped and saved from abusive homes and sickly situations, the man—Richard Cannon—had the blood of thousands of shifters on his hands. The wretched bastard.
“No, but that’s how I greet the man who made me swear not to ever tell what he was doing to anyone or he’d terrorize my sisters the same way he did me,” she replied vehemently.
Richard didn’t even have the gall to look affronted by her comment. Actually, his shoulders almost lifted in a shrug, but he took that moment to step closer to her instead.
“I specifically recall telling you to keep your mouth shut. So imagine my surprise when I find out you’re now spreading your vicious lies to this so-called Assembly Leader you insist on following.”
She took a step back, hating that she couldn’t control the instinct to get as far away from him as she possibly could.
“You’re the last shifter I would waste my time talking about.” Nivea spat. “Now you can just take yourself back to New York.”
Richard shook his head, clicking his tongue against his teeth, creating a sound that echoed through her small room, sending wary shivers up and down her spine. He used to make that sound whenever she cried. When she’d run into the corner of her room, turning her back away from him, and thinking that would be enough to
She’d just finished viewing the picture message when there was a knock on the door. Her bed was on the far side of the room, her dresser and a desk closest to the door. She moved past both and pulled the door open, not in a million years expecting who was on the other side.
“Long time no see,” Richard Cannon said, making his way inside her room without an invitation.
Nivea’s heart immediately pounded and while she would have preferred he’d stayed out in the hallway, she wasn’t about to make a scene that would alert everyone that he was here. As she closed the door she wondered how he’d managed to get inside anyway, considering Rome and Nick were looking into his financial dealings. Maybe that wasn’t public knowledge as of yet, which would be the only reason the guards at the gate would have allowed him passage. That and the fact that he was a shifter and her father.
She sighed with that thought.
“What do you want?” was her question the moment the door was closed and she was relatively sure nobody would overhear what was going on.
Some would say he looked good for a fifty-seven-year-old man, with his black suit, crisp white shirt, and slate-gray tie. His hair was midnight black and combed back from his face so that his thick eyebrows and expertly cut mustache were prominent. Money really did do wonders, she thought, because the asshole that lived in those clothes would never be more than a dirty, scumbag pervert in her eyes, no matter what he wore.
“Is that any way to greet your father, whom you haven’t seen for years?” he asked, looking around her room as if there might be something there he had interest in.
Nivea knew that was not true. There was nothing at Havenway that interested her father. Nothing the Shadow Shifters were doing that he wanted to be a part of. After all, his number one goal for the last thirty years had been to kill off whatever shifter children he could in an effort to end the breed entirely because he believed the world would never accept them. He was the biggest, sorriest kind of hypocrite there was. While his nonprofit foundation boasted how many children they helped and saved from abusive homes and sickly situations, the man—Richard Cannon—had the blood of thousands of shifters on his hands. The wretched bastard.
“No, but that’s how I greet the man who made me swear not to ever tell what he was doing to anyone or he’d terrorize my sisters the same way he did me,” she replied vehemently.
Richard didn’t even have the gall to look affronted by her comment. Actually, his shoulders almost lifted in a shrug, but he took that moment to step closer to her instead.
“I specifically recall telling you to keep your mouth shut. So imagine my surprise when I find out you’re now spreading your vicious lies to this so-called Assembly Leader you insist on following.”
She took a step back, hating that she couldn’t control the instinct to get as far away from him as she possibly could.
“You’re the last shifter I would waste my time talking about.” Nivea spat. “Now you can just take yourself back to New York.”
Richard shook his head, clicking his tongue against his teeth, creating a sound that echoed through her small room, sending wary shivers up and down her spine. He used to make that sound whenever she cried. When she’d run into the corner of her room, turning her back away from him, and thinking that would be enough to
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