“You took the part that you wanted, dumped the non-consensual crap aspect of it and made it your fantasy. Nothing wrong with that. It was neat seeing what goes on in that head of yours. Shane added it to the list, by the way.”
Shamira actually laughed. “He would.”
“It must’ve been strange having your deepest fantasies satisfied like that. And what was that at the end?”
Shamira covered her face. She hadn’t figured out what that had meant yet. “You mean when it turned into . . . you know –”
“Clara?”
“Yeah, that. Renata, I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Maybe you should talk it over with her,” Renata said smugly.
“I can’t. What would I say? How would I even tell here?”
“Shamira?” Renata said smoothly.
“Yes?” Shamira uncovered her face to find that Renata was pointing behind her. Shamira’s heart dropped in her chest. “Please don’t tell me –”
“Shamira, is that true?” came a soft, beautiful and young (sounding) voice behind her.
“Gotta go,” Renata said, ducking out the other side of the kitchen.
“That bitch,” Shamira muttered. She slowly turned around to find Clara staring at her wide-eyed.
“Is it true?” her friend asked. “The conduit looked like me?”
“Uhm . . . yeah. Kind of. I mean, towards the end and . . . yeah towards the end. Well, it still had the tentacles instead of legs and it had a penis and . . . well, a cock for a tongue too, but besides that –”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” the slim beauty asked.
“Because I don’t know what it means. You’ve been amazing to me since I came here and I didn’t want to freak you out and have you not want to be around me anymore.”
“Fat chance. You’ve had sex with strangers, a weird octopus-thing, and everyone else in this house just about, but you still fantasize about little old me?”
Shamira nodded.
Clara smiled. “I wish you’d told me. Because I could’ve told you I fantasize about you too.”
Shamira’s eyes opened wide. “You do? Me?”
Clara approached her friend and put her hands on the counter on each side of Shamira, trapping the woman in place. “How could I not?” With that, she kissed Shamira, shoving the girl up onto the counter while she used her lips and tongue to wash away all doubts from the muscular newcomer’s mind as to exactly how she felt.
“See,” Shamira said after a minute, “you kiss a lot better than the conduit could.”
“I could’ve told you that.” Clara did it again, just to prover her point. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’ve been important to me since the first time I saw you. It doesn’t mean that you or I can’t enjoy other people’s company. It just means that what we have can be special. We just need to take it one day at a time.” It was Clara’s turn to look a little sheepish. “I feel kinda silly. I haven’t been this nervous about courting someone’s affections since I tried to get Shane to bring me over.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” Shamira asked. “Courting me?” She wrapped her arms around Clara’s waist.
“Kinda feels that way, doesn’t it?”
The house siren started to blare and Shane’s voice came in, telling all enforcers and assassins to meet at the armory.
“Damn it,” Clara grumbled, stealing another kiss before Shamira had to rush off. “Finish this later.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Shamira was off to the armory, finding herself to be the first one there. She was half into her body armor before the others started arriving, starting with the crew that had woken up to watch football and the regular day shift. Soon, nine people were getting prepared while Shane gave them the run down.
“We received an anonymous tip that some shell walkers have been hassling a number of non-human owned business in downtown and College Park. They’re shaking people down for money and telling the store owners to ‘be ready for a changing of the guard.’ This likely means –”
“Lacroix?” Henry said. “Sir, this is getting out of hand. I can’t believe he’d be moving forward with this after the Tribunal has warned him and the meeting is just a few weeks off –”
“He has been somewhat arrogant, hasn’t he?” Shane said. “Once Bunny and Pierre have been brought over, my personal house will be full. We will then step up our surveillance on Lacroix and work on expanding our out-of-house forces. But to recruit more help from the local populace, we need a show of strength here today.”
“Uhm, what’s a shell walker?” Shamira asked.
Sebastian moved to Shane’s side before speaking. He wasn’t trying to usurp the stage, but was just trying to avoid startling Shamira and getting decked again. “Shell walkers are insectoids that can take the shape of other beings. It’s an imperfect disguise that even a regular human can spot; a hard and almost shiny skin is a dead giveaway. They can pass for whatever they’re imitating if people don’t look too closely. See one in its true form . . . well, you won’t mistake it for anything else. If these are working for a vampire, then they’re renegade drones, which means they’ve got a poisonous bit. The poison will kill mortals and make weres really sick, but doesn’t effect vamps.”
Shane nodded. Sebastian knew his stuff, and Shane was glad to have him on board. “We’ll be sending out three groups of three to investigate, mixing up the weres and vampires. Henry, take Sebastian and Reaper, and start your search at Antonio’s jewelry store. Bjorn, Banshee, and Bangaly, you will all start at Prime Cuts, a were-owned restaurant. Shamira, Yosyp, and Valeska, hit as many other downtown areas as you can. I’m willing to bet Shamira’s already memorized the maps and she knows the streets better than anyone. There may be other stores that were approached where the owner’s are afraid to come forward. It may be Sunday, but it is daylight in downtown Atlanta. Don’t expose yourselves and try to keep things quiet. But make no mistake, I want these things taken care of. Capture one if you can, but don’t let any escape. Any questions?”
Everyone was gearing up and everyone shook their heads. Then, Shamira stopped.
“Sir, how do you know those other two specific businesses were hit?”
“They called in. Why?”
“Before or after the anonymous tip?”
“After.” Shane saw the gears turning in Shamira’s head. “Why?”
“I’m just wondering why someone would call you anonymously.”
Henry was loading a couple of knives into hidden compartments in his jacket. “They may not want to get involved publicly, in case this gets ugly.”
“But they aren’t a store owner or employee, otherwise they’d have told us who they were so we could help them. So a magical being just happened to see this bug men and call it in, but not tell you who they were? Not try and curry any favor with the boss? I . . . it’s nothing. Never mind. It just sounds a little weird to me.”
Shane nodded, deep in thought. “So you think something else is going on here?’
“Maybe, maybe not. Pierre has a couple days of life left, right? He was a super spy? Any chance of him being able to track down who made that phone call?”
“I’ll contact him right away.”
“Thanks,” Shamira replied, feeling relieved. “And be careful. In the end, this is about Lacroix versus you.” The group broke and everyone headed to the garage. Shamira looked at Yosyp on the way. “Are you going to be okay? I know the sunlight affects older vamps more –”
“I’ll be fine. I can’t levitate in the daylight and I would be hard pressed to defeat opponents I might normally take with ease. As long as we do not brawl in the middle of the streets, I will survive.”
“Good. I’m driving.”
Shortly thereafter, three nondescript SUVs with tinted windows were tearing downtown on I-75. Shamira realized that, between her and the two other people in the car, that she’d been with Shane the longest. And she really didn’t know anything about Valeska. She knew Valeska was a weresnake who could supposedly turn into the biggest damn anaconda she’d ever seen and that she was going to be Shane’s newest assassin, but that was about it.
“So,” Shamira started, “tell me more about you.”
Valeska was a tall, lean, beautiful woman with that light-brown skin similar to Renata’s. She gave a shy smile, showing off perfect, pearly white teeth that contrasted well against her dark lips. Her dark brown hair was done up in cornrows that reached to her shoulders and was decorated with dark green beads. “This is a little out of the chute, isn’t it?” She had a definite accent, but Shamira couldn’t place it.
“Seems to be par for the course around here.”
It turned out that Valeska was from Chile and was of Spanish/Amerindian descent. Her mother and father had been staunch opponents of Augusto Pinochet when he began his coup. She and her parents had gone into exile in the jungle, because they were too poor to escape to the “civilized” world, and most places they could afford to go were almost as bad. Valeska was taught to hunt, track, and kill by tribesman from her mother’s side of the family. Her father had been captured when Valeska was only ten, and had become a victim of the infamous Caravan of Death.
Shamira’s heart broke a little as she listened to her new colleague’s tale. Being born into that kind of oppression and losing your father that way . . . Shamira had it easy by comparison.