A. Arthur - Shifter's Claim

Nick, who used to have his own reputation as the handsome and unattainable attorney, until he’d found his companheiro and had a joining ceremony, followed by a beautiful little daughter, only shook his head. “Where is she now?”

“Probably still in his bed,” Jace quipped.

“You slept with her?” X asked, incredulous, because sometimes, even Bas’s closest friends believed the hype of his notorious reputation.

Besides the image of Bas that had been created solely by the press, it was common knowledge among their tribe that shifters had an insatiable sexual appetite, especially when they found their companheiros. There was nothing more important to them during the companheiro calor. What none of the shifters in this room knew was how successful Bas had been in banking that desire to save his own sanity and to keep the guilt that ate at him daily with a voracious appetite from consuming him completely. But that wasn’t for them to know, it was his business and the way he handled it was solely up to him.

“I did not sleep with her. I gave her a couple of drinks then took her home,” he told them. “She’s smart but I’m not certain she even believes what she thinks she saw.” He almost said he wasn’t sure she was pursuing this story because she wanted to, either, but he didn’t. His concerns for the reporter, the ones he knew he shouldn’t be having, were to be kept private, like so many other aspects of his life.

“Besides, nobody believes reporters half the time,” Cole added, leaning forward in his chair. Cole led the Central Zone and lived in Dallas. He was an investment broker who focused on two things only—his money and his job as the FL. Female entanglements definitely took a backseat in Cole’s world and he had no problem voicing his concerns over how the other sex could interfere with a man’s life. To say he was bitter in that regard was an understatement.

“To the contrary,” Jace, the wild card in the group of FLs added. “They believe them way too much. People are so predisposed to believe anyone with power—politicians, superstars, millionaires—are all natural-born liars and cheaters, that anything they find in print that corroborates those facts becomes the law to them.”

Jace’s words rang true, especially since he dealt with the press more than any of the other FLs in his line of work as the brash and opinionated talent agent and owner of Maybon Artist Management in Los Angeles.

“We have no connection to the bank robbery. That was all crazy-ass Sabar and his league of felines,” Nick stated. “I’m so glad that bastard’s dead.”

“We’re all glad he’s out of the equation but that doesn’t mean there aren’t still rogues he had following him out there. And, we do have a connection to Athena’s.” Cole eyed X, an action that earned him a lethal glare from the former agent.

“Caprise is keeping a low profile at Athena’s,” X reported. His mate continued to dance at the club, using that as her cover while she kept a lookout for the rogues that had occupied the place like gangsters before.

“And I stay away from the place altogether,” X continued tightly. There was no doubt how he felt about that fact.

“I think we may be seeing more in this than is necessary,” Bas spoke up. “I reported it to you as a problem just so we would know what we’re dealing with, but I don’t think she has any more information than what’s been floating around in the D.C. news for weeks.”

“Maybe you’re the one not seeing enough,” Cole directed to Bas. “Did something else happen between you and this woman, because it almost seems as if you’re defending her. Are you sure the two of you didn’t have some type of personal connection?”

At that question Bas spun around. He was in Cole’s face so fast it took a moment before Cole could stand to address him, and Nick and X could get close enough to both, one of them putting a hand on Bas’s shoulder.

“What are you accusing me of, Linden?” Bas questioned the other FL, a low rumble building in his chest.

“Sit down,” Rome ordered. “Both of you,” he added since no one had moved.

Bas backed away, mentally kicking himself for losing his cool. He never did that and wasn’t about to venture into why Cole was easily able to bait him this time. He wanted to storm out of the room, to go someplace to be alone, to try and figure out why this reporter and her inquisitive eyes and alluring scent had haunted him for the first half of the night and why during the other half he’d dreamed of her in the Gungi, her dead eyes looking up to him instead of Mariah’s.

Instead, he took a steadying breath and sat down. When he looked at Rome again it was to find the leader watching him closely.

“You’re right,” Rome admitted. “We do already have history with Ms. Drake. But so far you’re the first one of us to have personal contact with her, so tell me how you think she should be handled.”

It wasn’t out of the norm for Rome to consider their opinions, that’s just the type of leader he was. He knew that keeping the Shadows safe and protecting the humans at the same time was a team effort and he’d acquired one hell of a team to see that through. Bas only hated that Rome’s use of the word “handled” had succeeded in stroking a serious protective instinct in him that he knew the others would never understand.

Once again deciding that now was definitely not the place to let his personal feelings interfere, Bas spoke on what he knew from a strategic standpoint. “For now, I think the best plan of attack is no attack at all. Nobody’s going to believe her ramblings, she’ll discredit herself by even putting them in print. She has absolutely no evidence and I doubt the Post would be willing to take on the liability for printing anything about Rome without solid proof to back them up. They don’t want the Lethal Litigator suing their asses,” he ended, trying for a lighter mood.

Bas continued to look down the table at Rome, who readily acknowledged his reputation as a ruthless litigator in D.C., with a nod.

“The rogues should remain the priority,” Bas added with finality.

Rome was quiet for a few moments, obviously contemplating what their next move would be. His mind would no doubt be on the issues that were now permeating the very fabric of the democracy he was trying to build for the shifters. His actions from this point forward would undoubtedly set the stage for how they would proceed, how their lives would go on in this world of humans who had no clue what they were.

“We’ll keep her in our peripheral for the time being.” Rome spoke decisively. “Right now, I want all of you to head back to your zones. Nick received a report this morning about a shipment possibly coming into Arizona tonight.”

“Coming in from Mexico?” Bas asked immediately. The last shipment they’d intercepted in his zone had given them Felipe Hernandez, a former lieutenant in the Cortez Cartel. The man was still being held in the lower bunkers of Bas’s resort where they’d locked him up after X had come to Sedona to question him.

“It’s not Cortez,” X offered, shaking his head. “No way they’re going to send in another shipment after we captured the last one and their lieutenant at the same time. Not this soon.”

“Whoever it is, there are two boats expected to dock at midnight mountain time,” Nick reported.

“Where’d you get this intel?” Bas asked.

All eyes fell on Nick. “It was an anonymous e-mail sent to my work e-mail address. I didn’t have a chance to give X a heads-up so he could do his computer mojo and find out where it originated from before coming into this little get-together. But we’ll get on that trace right away.”