Fire Dancer (Spellbound in Sedona #2)

Chapter Sixteen

INGO

It took my contact person until the next day to arrange a meeting, and when he did, it was a good hour’s drive to our meeting point in Prescott — a place called the Blue Moon Saloon. The bar itself wasn’t out of the way, and it wasn’t hard to find. But the minute I walked in, I knew it was different.

Not just thanks to the swinging saloon doors or the sign that read, Check Your Guns at the Door. Not even the 1870s Winchester hanging over the beautifully restored, old-fashioned bar or the pianist playing a jaunty tune.

More like the subtler hints that something here was unique, like the scene carved in the oak panel over the bar. A wolf howled at the moon, a bear waded in a stream, and an eagle soared above them.

Then there were the not-so-subtle hints, like the burly bear shifter wiping a glass behind the bar or the perky she-wolf serving customers at the tables.

Clearly, the Blue Moon Saloon was shifter territory.

The moment I walked through the swinging doors, the bear shifter pinned me with a hard stare that said, You, wolf. Watch how you conduct yourself in my territory.

The she-wolf gave me a friendlier version of the stare, and a moment later, an even burlier bear shifter emerged from the back, his dark eyes fixed on mine. The guy was a near double of the other. His brother, I supposed.

Like a gunslinger fresh out of bullets, I held out my hands to say, Not looking for trouble. I just want to ask a few questions.

Which could be as dangerous, frankly.

It was early evening on a Friday, and the place was filling quickly. The customers were mostly human, predominantly country-western types, and pretty boisterous — but those bear brothers clearly kept the place under tight control. One of the big, street-side window panes was newer than the other, hinting that they wouldn’t hesitate to eject an unruly customer the fast way.

I approached the bar, keeping my hands in view.

“Kemper?” one of them grumbled.

I nodded, and he led me down the dim hall to the back.

Well, maybe not so dim, but the guy was so big, he blocked the light streaming in from the rear. He rubbed a thick shoulder against every doorframe as he lumbered along, and my wolf huffed.

Goddamn bears. Always marking their territory.

Not that I could blame him. The pretty she-wolf in the front was his mate — their mingled scents were a dead giveaway — and the whole business, from what I’d gathered, was a tight-knit family operation.

The sun was setting, sending long, colorful rays through the stained-glass windows of the rear room. It was set up for private functions and sported a second bar, not as ornate but just as old and impressive as the one out front.

More impressive yet were the shifters waiting for me there.

I nodded to the only one I’d met before, though just once and briefly. My contact — a wolf shifter with spiky hair — was wearing his police uniform, though he’d made it clear he would only attend in an off-duty capacity.

Like me. Way, way off duty. Getting my ass suspended level off duty.

His expression remained guarded as he shook my hand. “Kyle Williams.” Then he turned to the others, introducing me. “Ingo Kemper of the ADMSA.”

I winced like a Green Bay Packers fan who’d wandered into Chicago Bears territory decked out in all the wrong paraphernalia.

“I’m not here on official business,” I said, putting it mildly. “Nothing here ends up on the books.”

The tall guy in the middle with thunder in his eyes — another wolf shifter — kept his thick arms crossed, unimpressed.

He was clearly the ranking alpha among a hell of a lot of powerful shifters. There were a couple of other wolf shifters, one wolf/coyote shifter, and even a huge boar — er, javelina — shifter standing in the corner as backup. The women who stood among them could have been textbook depictions of tough Amazonian warriors, apart from their modern clothing.

A straw-haired wolf shifter beside the alpha pointed to himself, then some of the others. “Cody Hawthorne. That’s Ty and Tina, and this is Lana. You know Kyle, and our host here is Soren.” All were wolves except the bear shifter he finished with.

He didn’t introduce the others, so yeah. They were backups in case I hadn’t come alone.

I heaved an inner sigh. No squad of agents to back me up today. I was well and truly on my own.

“Please have a seat,” Lana said.

She was friendly enough, and clearly the alpha’s mate, because while motioning me to a chair, she clamped a hand over her mate’s shoulder and pushed down in an obvious hint.

The guy scowled but lowered himself into a chair. Slowly.

I’d heard of him, of course. Ty Hawthorne, alpha of Twin Moon pack. The agency listed Twin Moon as an up-and-coming wolf pack, but an update was sorely needed. Not that I would be the one supplying that update.

All my local sources agreed that Twin Moon pack was the dominant wolf pack in the Southwest and a positive force that ran their own…well, call it a neighborhood watch program.

A very effective neighborhood watch, and no surprise, judging by their leader’s thunderous aura.

Ty Hawthorne’s eyes blazed, but Lana cut in before he could growl, What the hell do you want?

“How can we help you?” she asked.

Same message, different delivery. Thank goodness for level-headed women.

“That hiker death in Sedona, about a week ago…” I started.

Ty looked at Kyle, their inside man in local law enforcement. Very handy.

“I read the report,” Kyle said. “The coroner ruled it accidental.”

I shook my head. “They missed the bear shifter scent. It was all over the ledge she fell from.”

Soren, the bear shifter and saloon owner, bristled.

“I couldn’t ID them,” I said before he took it as an accusation.

“Surely the agency has the resources to ID scents,” the one named Tina said.

She had a strong family resemblance to Ty, except she was beautiful and she actually smiled. His sister, I figured.

I took a moment to word my reply carefully. “They do, but my request was rejected because it was tied to an unapproved investigation.”

Ty Hawthorne’s lips quirked, the first glimpse of sunshine in his stormy expression. Any failure of the agency was good news for a pack that liked to run under the radar.

And honestly, I couldn’t blame them. As I saw it, my job was to hunt down bad eggs, not law-abiding packs that minded their own business.

“Unapproved investigation?” Soren growled.

Like many bears, his vocal cords didn’t seem capable of regular speech. Just growls, snarls, and grumbles.

I nodded. “Unapproved because the evidence so far is circumstantial.”

Also because of a certain restraining order, but I glossed over that part.

Ty didn’t seem concerned. Clearly, he was more of a trust-your-instincts type of guy than a champion of painstaking forensics. The question was, would he trust my instincts?

“On a separate occasion, I identified another suspicious bear shifter, new to Sedona,” I continued.

“ Another suspicious bear shifter?” Soren rumbled.

I shot him a look. No, not all bear shifters were suspicious. Hell, some of the best guys on the fire crew I used to work on were bear shifters. But Stacy’s driver gave me nothing but negative vibes.

“He works for a company based out of Park City, which I believe is tied to a place in Sedona called La Puebla.”

Lana cocked her head. “The one on Schnebly Hill?”

Kyle scowled deeply. Deep enough to make it seem personal. Why?

“Yes,” I said. “It has a new owner, but my requests for information at the agency have all been rejected.”

That drew a lot of raised eyebrows, so I went on quickly. “Every time I put in a request related to one particular individual, it’s rejected. Even some requests I thought were unrelated — a trace on the license plate of that bear shifter, for example — have been rejected, which makes me believe they are related to the same person of interest.”

“And that person is…” Ty stirred his hand impatiently.

“Victor Jananovich. A vampire.”

No one reacted, except to look to Kyle, who shook his head curtly. Apparently, Jananovich had managed to keep himself off their radar so far.

“Why would the agency reject requests for information regarding this vampire?” Lana asked.

“I suspect an insider.”

It was the only thing that made sense. Jananovich had to have an insider smoothing the way for him at the agency, in the same way that Angelina Saint James had tampered with agency files on behalf of Harlon Greene.

I nearly jolted with a sudden realization. Angelina, a vampire, had used her position at the agency to further Harlon Greene’s interests, using my ex-partner, Nash, in the process. Angelina was no longer with the agency — in fact, she was no longer with anyone, having been zapped by a lightning bolt at Pippa’s ranch — but maybe Harlon wasn’t the only criminal Angelina had sold favors to.

I stared into space, thinking. Had Jananovich gotten Angelina to engineer the restraining order too? The timing fit, because that had been months ago, before Angelina had been outed as a double agent.

Someone cleared their throat, and I forced my focus back to the shifters before me.

“Months ago in LA, I was working on a different case that put me on the trail of Victor Jananovich. Let’s just say he’s a problem vampire.”

Cody’s sunny attitude darkened. “We had a vampire problem a few years ago.”

Everyone went silent, and it was a while before I worked up the nerve to ask, “What happened?”

Ty shrugged. “Problem solved.”

Cody’s chest stuck out an inch farther. I took it he’d been the one to do the solving.

A phone rang, and Ty looked around, annoyed, until he realized it was his own. I half expected the device to melt under his wilting look, but when he saw the caller ID, his demeanor did a one-eighty.

His lips cracked into a smile, and his eyes danced when he turned the screen to Lana. Then he cleared his throat, got to his feet, and wandered to the back door, rumbling, “Give me a minute.” His voice changed completely as he addressed the person on the other end of the line. “Hiya, pumpkin.” He paused. “Sweetie, now is not the best time…”

It was like one of those split-personality psycho movies, but with a really sweet alter ego.

“Okay, but just one…” Ty went on, wandering out of earshot.

The others looked at one another, barely hiding grins.

Cody laughed. “He has to sing his daughter a lullaby.”

I stared out the back door. I couldn’t picture that guy singing, let alone a lullaby.

Soren bristled at me, as if to say, Real men sing lullabies. You got a problem with that?

Hell no. My dad was a badass fire fighter and smoke jumper, and I’d loved his lullabies. I’d always figured I would sing them to my own kids someday.

My chest squeezed. The way things were going with Pippa, I might never have kids.

Then I thought back to our kiss and the way she’d held me. Maybe if I closed this case and put Jananovich away forever, I could be the kind of partner she wanted. I could help around the ranch and spend some more time at her workshop. I could actually use weekends as weekends and not just the chance to clock overtime…

Never had I been as tempted. But it all hinged on one big if. The one about putting Jananovich away forever.

My jaw hardened. Back to priorities.

Ty wandered back in a few minutes later, looking as grim and remorseless as ever. But, ha. Now I knew his terrible secret — that under that tough exterior, the guy was a pushover, at least when it came to his kids.

He sat and glared at me, like I’d been the one taking a time-out to sing.

“Before the case was shut down, I was gathering evidence to link Jananovich to a series of murders in LA,” I explained. “Mostly young women who worked for him as escorts. Some human, some relics. No pure supernaturals, however.”

Tina frowned. “What kind of escorts?”

I shrugged sadly. “The usual. Pretty young women with more looks than sense. But all consensual, from what I could tell.”

“Only as consensual as a desperate person can be,” Tina pointed out.

True, but I still shook my head. “These were high-end escorts. Not so much desperate as ambitious. Too ambitious for their own good, sometimes. Several turned up dead.”

“And you see a link to the dead woman in Sedona?” Kyle asked.

“Just a hunch — and today, a bad feeling about a missing woman. Again, no evidence…just a bad feeling. Bad enough to want to follow up before it’s too late.”

A tic started up in my cheek, the way it always did when I thought of my one big failure. Jananovich…California…a woman named Bridget, drained of all her blood…

Ty Hawthorne studied me closely, and I swore he could read all that in my expression.

Well, fine. Let him.

A long, quiet pause stretched.

“So, what is it you want from us?” Ty finally asked, not as gruffly as before.

“Information — whatever you have on Jananovich, La Puebla, or those bear shifters,” I said immediately.

Ty looked around, but everyone except Soren and Kyle looked blank.

Kyle spoke first. “Stef’s company sent her over to La Puebla last fall to put in a bid for a new solar installation.”

I didn’t know who Stef was, but Kyle’s eyes went all dark and protective.

“And?” Lana prompted.

Kyle’s expression remained grim. “She said there was a bad vibe to the place, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. She was relieved when her company didn’t get the bid.” He waited a moment, then answered an unspoken question. “I’ll ask her more about it when I get home.”

Aha. So, Officer Kyle Williams and Solar Power Stef were partners. Another interesting connection — and a reminder that as hard as the agency worked to build networks, nothing beat the real thing. And the wolves of Twin Moon Ranch seemed to have very handy connections.

Pippa does too, my wolf pointed out.

True, but those connections could also drag her into trouble. Like now, with Stacy.

Another phone rang — Kyle’s this time. He pulled one device from each pocket, then frowned and showed Ty one. His work phone?

Ty nodded, and Kyle stepped toward the door to answer. “Williams here.”

Lana seemed poised to continue our conversation until she saw Kyle freeze.

“Where? When?” he asked.

Everyone looked over, listening.

“Roger…” he murmured.

Definitely a work call.

Kyle turned, looking grim. He ran a hand through his hair, making it even spikier. “Has the body been ID’ed?”

My gut twisted, and everyone went very, very quiet.

For the next minute or so, Kyle nodded into his phone. Then he signed off with a curt, “Yes, sir. I’m on my way.”

My lips moved, but I couldn’t spit out my question.

As it turned out, I didn’t have to. The second Kyle’s eyes met mine, I knew.