Read Online Savage Betrayal: Savage, Book 2 by Shelli Stevens - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shelli Stevens
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anymore suicides . Do we have an understanding?”
Jocelyn just lifted a shoulder and gave another brief smile. “Ultimately, the choice was his? Was it not?”
Grace turned and walked away. “I’m still waiting on the autopsy.”
“Beer? Whiskey?”
Darrius studied the two options on the table in front of him, then glanced back up at Larson.
“You look like you could use one or the other,” Larson added.
Reaching for the beer, Darrius gave a jerk of his head to mark his appreciation. “Thanks. I think I do, actually.”
The bar they were in was dark, near empty, and filled with the tormented voice of Kurt Cobain from an old Nirvana album.
The Doornail was an unspoken shifter hangout located in a hole in the wall in Pioneer Square. The building had to be over a century old, and the pub itself had resided on the first floor for nearly as long. It had been owned and operated for three generations by the Neilson shapeshifter family.
“Good choice.” Larson tossed back the shot and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “It’s fucking weird not having Donovan here as much.”
“The guy’s married now, has a wife to take care of, and all that jazz.”
Larson’s mouth twitched. “Sienna can take care of herself pretty damn well, from what I understand.”
“Yes. But there’s the love factor and being mated bit. Makes you all crazy and not want to be away from your significant other for any longer than necessary.”
“Sienna works for the P.I.A. now. She’s right down the hall from him when he’s in the office.”
“Yeah, but he’s not in the office all that much,” Darrius pointed out. “We’ve been in the field more often.”
“Yeah. Speaking of. What happened today? The truth, not just what you wrote on the report.”
Shit. Larson wasn’t just their team leader, but the alpha of their pack. Lying wasn’t anywhere near an option.
“Interviewed Thom’s widow. Spoke with the forensic guy for a bit. Then left.” Darrius paused to take a swig of cold beer. “And that’s when Gra— Masterson was nearly run down by some jackass in a minivan.”
Larson cursed. “Did you catch the plates?”
“I don’t think I’d be here right now if I had.” No. He’d be out pounding some guy’s face into the pavement.
Darrius’s fingers tightened around the beer bottle until he felt the slight cracking of glass. He eased up, forgetting his strength.
“You don’t think it was an accident.”
“No. I don’t.” There was no point in lying to his alpha. “But Masterson would have my balls if she knew I was telling you this.”
“Tough shit. It’s your goddamn duty to tell me these things, and I sure as fuck don’t want any of my agents getting hurt.”
Colin, the pub’s owner, came over at that moment to say hi and grab their food order. Darrius asked for ribs, but wasn’t really hungry. He didn’t even want to be here right now. Everything inside him was coiled tight with the need to check on Grace. To see her again and make sure she was all right.
“Now tell me. Who would want to hurt Agent Masterson?” Larson asked once Colin had left to deliver their orders to the cook.
“I don’t know. Feloray Industries? Maybe they want to off all the survivors of the experiments.”
“That’d make them pretty fucking stupid. And obvious.”
Which was around the same lines of what he’d been thinking. “I don’t know who else it could be. Who else out there wants her dead?”
“Maybe not dead. Maybe just messed up a little. Hell, who knows? But I think we’d better keep a closer eye on her.”
“Already am,” he admitted, before thinking whether it was wise or not.
“Is that so?” Larson paused as their food was delivered. “Are you going to tell me what’s up with you lately?”
“What do you mean?”
“You seem a little…protective of Masterson.” He cut into his steak, then lifted his hard gaze again. “A little concerned—more than normal,
Jocelyn just lifted a shoulder and gave another brief smile. “Ultimately, the choice was his? Was it not?”
Grace turned and walked away. “I’m still waiting on the autopsy.”
“Beer? Whiskey?”
Darrius studied the two options on the table in front of him, then glanced back up at Larson.
“You look like you could use one or the other,” Larson added.
Reaching for the beer, Darrius gave a jerk of his head to mark his appreciation. “Thanks. I think I do, actually.”
The bar they were in was dark, near empty, and filled with the tormented voice of Kurt Cobain from an old Nirvana album.
The Doornail was an unspoken shifter hangout located in a hole in the wall in Pioneer Square. The building had to be over a century old, and the pub itself had resided on the first floor for nearly as long. It had been owned and operated for three generations by the Neilson shapeshifter family.
“Good choice.” Larson tossed back the shot and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “It’s fucking weird not having Donovan here as much.”
“The guy’s married now, has a wife to take care of, and all that jazz.”
Larson’s mouth twitched. “Sienna can take care of herself pretty damn well, from what I understand.”
“Yes. But there’s the love factor and being mated bit. Makes you all crazy and not want to be away from your significant other for any longer than necessary.”
“Sienna works for the P.I.A. now. She’s right down the hall from him when he’s in the office.”
“Yeah, but he’s not in the office all that much,” Darrius pointed out. “We’ve been in the field more often.”
“Yeah. Speaking of. What happened today? The truth, not just what you wrote on the report.”
Shit. Larson wasn’t just their team leader, but the alpha of their pack. Lying wasn’t anywhere near an option.
“Interviewed Thom’s widow. Spoke with the forensic guy for a bit. Then left.” Darrius paused to take a swig of cold beer. “And that’s when Gra— Masterson was nearly run down by some jackass in a minivan.”
Larson cursed. “Did you catch the plates?”
“I don’t think I’d be here right now if I had.” No. He’d be out pounding some guy’s face into the pavement.
Darrius’s fingers tightened around the beer bottle until he felt the slight cracking of glass. He eased up, forgetting his strength.
“You don’t think it was an accident.”
“No. I don’t.” There was no point in lying to his alpha. “But Masterson would have my balls if she knew I was telling you this.”
“Tough shit. It’s your goddamn duty to tell me these things, and I sure as fuck don’t want any of my agents getting hurt.”
Colin, the pub’s owner, came over at that moment to say hi and grab their food order. Darrius asked for ribs, but wasn’t really hungry. He didn’t even want to be here right now. Everything inside him was coiled tight with the need to check on Grace. To see her again and make sure she was all right.
“Now tell me. Who would want to hurt Agent Masterson?” Larson asked once Colin had left to deliver their orders to the cook.
“I don’t know. Feloray Industries? Maybe they want to off all the survivors of the experiments.”
“That’d make them pretty fucking stupid. And obvious.”
Which was around the same lines of what he’d been thinking. “I don’t know who else it could be. Who else out there wants her dead?”
“Maybe not dead. Maybe just messed up a little. Hell, who knows? But I think we’d better keep a closer eye on her.”
“Already am,” he admitted, before thinking whether it was wise or not.
“Is that so?” Larson paused as their food was delivered. “Are you going to tell me what’s up with you lately?”
“What do you mean?”
“You seem a little…protective of Masterson.” He cut into his steak, then lifted his hard gaze again. “A little concerned—more than normal,
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