One Eye Open. Karen Whiddon
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She stared. “Are you threatening me?” Humans usually had sharper instincts.
“If you have reason to feel threatened.”
If he looked for arrest information on her, he would find nothing. She’d never broken a law in her life. Since blending in with humans was one of her people’s first and most important rules, she, like most others of her kind, lived an exemplary life. She worked as the sole librarian in the tiny upstate New York town where she lived. A librarian on leave.
Having no fears of a police record, Brenna studied the human. His dark eyes carried many shadows; his rugged features bore an unmistakable stamp of pain. She needed to find out what this man knew about her brother. Without causing him harm, if possible.
Though patience had never been her strongest virtue, she took a deep breath. “Please. I need to know. Why do you want to find Alex?”
He took a step closer, his long shadow menacing, though he kept his hands jammed in his coat pockets. “Do you know what your brother is?”
His words slipped like icicles down the back of her parka. “I do,” she retorted, though she knew they were speaking of different things. “The question is, do you?”
A metallic click from the trees behind them made her spin. She’d once had the misfortune of being in the forest during deer hunting season, and she recognized the sound.
“Down!” she yelled, dropping to the pavement at the same time. To his credit the big man didn’t hesitate, going to the ground immediately. A millisecond later the sharp crack of a gunshot confirmed her guess. With her preternatural hearing, she heard the bullet whiz past harmlessly.
Immediately another shot rang out, again barely missing them. She stayed down. Though she had many powers, immortality was not one of them. A bullet would do the same damage to her that it would to any human.
Her companion swore. “Stay here.” Without waiting to see if she would obey his terse order, he was up and running for the trees, crouched low. Bemused, she watched him go, though her senses told her the shooter had fled.
Who had shot at them? Though this man’s questions bothered her people, she doubted any of them would take such a drastic step. Especially since she was the only one who truly believed Alex’s life was in danger. She alone was hunting for him; her goal was to find her brother and make certain he was safe. The sudden appearance of this stranger with his numerous questions worried her, confirmed her fears. Alex was in grave danger.
Again she inhaled. The icy sigh of the winter wind in the trees told her that the danger was past. Standing, she wiped the snow off the front of her wet jeans and waited for the stranger to return.
A moment later he did, jogging awkwardly in the soft snow. He slowed as he approached her. Narrow-eyed, he shot her a look more icy than the glaciers of her ancestral homeland.
“Who was it?” Moving with a speed that startled her, he grabbed her arm. “Are you with them?”
Anger flared, clogging her throat. Jerking away, she stepped backward. “With whom?”
“Right.” He cocked his head. “I’m taking you into custody.”
Custody. “So you are a cop?”
“Of sorts.”
“Odd choice of words.” Hands on hips, she stared at him, unafraid. “So you think you’re arresting me? For what?”
“Your own protection, maybe?” His deep voice dripped with sarcasm.
“I had nothing to do with that gunshot.”
“Maybe you did and maybe you didn’t. Still, they’ve been trying to kill me for a long time. I wouldn’t put it past them to send a woman. Either way, you’re coming with me. As insurance.”
About to protest again, Brenna reconsidered. Going with this man might not be a bad thing, especially since she had no other leads to Alex’s whereabouts. If she spent more time with this stranger, she might be able to get him to tell her what he knew. And if his intentions were evil, her physical presence might help keep her brother safe.
But she would make him suspicious if she seemed too eager.
“I don’t even know your name,” she said. “Or who you are or what exactly you do.”
“Well, Brenna.” The menacing way he spoke made her wonder. “You’ve had the bad luck of trying to prey on a DEA Agent. Special Agent Carson Turner. Pleased to meet ya.”
Stunned more by his word choice—how he had known that she’d considered him prey—Brenna simply stared. After a moment she realized he was waiting for her to respond.
“D…E…A.” She enunciated each letter deliberately. “Interesting.”
“Come on.” Indicating a snow-covered SUV, he reached again for her arm. “Let’s go.”
With a simple step she evaded him. “I want proof.”
“Proof?” All but snarling the word, he reached into his pocket and, fumbling with his gloved fingers, withdrew a plastic covered ID, holding it up for her inspection.
“Drug Enforcement Agency,” she read out loud. “Carson Turner, Justice Department.”
“Yeah.” Pocketing the ID, he flashed her a humorless smile. “That’s me. Now get in the car.”
She examined the black Tahoe parked to the side. It was one of only two four-wheel-drive vehicles amid the seven or eight motorcycles in the parking lot. He pressed his remote control, and the vehicle lights flashed as the doors unlocked.
“I need to get my bag from the car.” She started forward.
“I’ll get it,” he said. “Toss me your keys.”
Without another word she did as he asked. So he worked for a government agency—was that good or bad? Since Alex wouldn’t do anything illegal, what would the DEA want with him? No one in the Pack used drugs of any kind. Doing so could seriously impair the ability to change, causing far greater damage than any brief moment of pleasure would be worth.
Climbing in after her, Carson tossed her duffel bag in the back seat and started the engine, turning on his wipers to clear the powdery snow from the windshield. She waited until he’d backed from the parking lot and pulled out onto the road before trying again.
“Tell me what you want with my brother.”
He gave a rude snort, shooting her a look of fury that felt like a slap. “I thought you said you knew what your brother was.”
Holding on to the shreds of her patience, she gave a slow shake of her head. “Alex disappeared over a year ago. No one in the Pack—” she stopped, heart in throat, then shook her head “—I mean, no one in my family has heard from him. I’m worried.”
Only the quiet rumble of the motor broke the silence.
“You know, if I didn’t need to keep my hands