Nell lifted her beer bottle. “Doesn’t stop me from wanting a good shag, though. Embarrasses Shane and Brody, but too bad for them.”
Cassidy had to laugh. “They’ll get over it.”
“My boys try to intimidate the hell out of any male I show interest in. Not that males aren’t intimidated by me already. Damn, I wish I were petite.”
Cassidy squeezed Nell’s hand. “Males don’t like alpha females.”
“I know that, the shits. Until there’s a fight. Then they want us to save their asses.”
Cassidy shook her head. “Males.”
“That human of yours is no submissive himself, you know.”
“I figured that out the day I met him,” Cassidy said. “I saved his life, and it seriously pissed him off.”
“Yeah, I heard the story. Alphas don’t like to show weakness, especially to their females.”
Cassidy thought about that for a while, and also about the phone call that had made Diego back away from her, away from Shiftertown. He’d said it had nothing to do with Reid, but Cassidy wanted to know what it was about. Whatever it was had upset him, though Diego had tried not to show it. She’d scented his distress.
“Is Brody busy, Nell?” she asked.
“Brody? Sure you don’t want Shane?” Nell gave her a hopeful look, one she’d been giving Cassidy since they’d all moved to Shiftertown.
Cassidy sighed. “Nell, you know I like Shane, but…”
“But you aren’t interested in him as a mate. I know. I wouldn’t mind having you for a daughter-in-law, Cass, that’s a fact. But I understand. The mate bond can’t be forced, and now this human has caught your eye.”
“Diego was good to me when he didn’t have to be.”
Nell snorted with laughter. “Oh, please. You mean he’s majorly hot. I have eyes, sweetie.”
Cassidy couldn’t help her grin. “Well, that too.”
“Go. Get Brody. Do what you have to.”
Cassidy leaned down, kissed Nell on her smooth cheek, and walked through the darkness to the house next door.
Diego drove around the last corner and felt like he’d traveled backward in time. The same houses were still there, the same liquor store with men and women standing idly in front of it, slot machines inside flashing white and red lights into the night. He could swear the same homeless guys hung around the Dumpster on the other side.
Diego had left this street fourteen years ago when he’d enlisted in the Marines, vowing he wouldn’t be back. He had to come back, of course, from time to time. First to move his mother and brother out to the house his mom lived in now. Then, once he’d become a cop, his job had brought him back. Diego knew the streets and the people, which made him an asset to the LVPD.
One person Diego knew was Enrique Gonzales, a former gang leader who had made the young Diego’s life an unmerciful terror. Diego now approached the one-story row apartments where Enrique lived with a feeling of pity.
Enrique was dying. He’d contracted HIV from a shared needle a while back, and pancreatic cancer was taking him. Not long now, probably. A month or so at most.
The man lived in the same apartment his parents had, they having succumbed to disease years ago, bodies worn down by drugs. Enrique’s sister had fled the neighborhood the night she’d tried to kill him.
Enrique lived alone, getting money to pay for his needed medication by selling information to the police. Enrique knew everyone and had many connections, and he’d stopped worrying about people killing him for being a nark.
Diego took a step back when Enrique opened the door. Enrique had never been the cleanest of guys, and the house had always smelled. Now with Enrique alone and uncaring, the stink was bad.
A Shifter would run away howling. Maybe that was why Shiftertown was so damn clean—anything else offended their superior senses of smell.
“Hola, Diego.” Enrique shuffled away from the door. Formerly a huge man, he’d lost so much weight that his flesh sagged on his bones. “I got beer somewhere,” he said in Spanish.
Diego followed Enrique into the living room. “No, thanks.”
Diego took out a roll of cash, five hundred dollars, all twenties, and handed it to Enrique. Enrique pocketed the money without counting it and motioned for Diego to sit on a threadbare armchair.
The state-of-the-art TV in front of the chair had its sound muted, but a movie rolled across the screen in vivid images. Enrique plucked up a remote, shut off the TV, and slumped into another chair.
“It’s sometimes hard to find people in Mexico,” Enrique said, sticking to Spanish. “But I did it. They’re holed up in a little town called La Nébeda. They’re gringos, so they stand out, and they’re stupid, so they really stand out. Want me to have them taken down?”
Diego shook his head, though his heart beat faster in hope. “Stay out of it.”
Enrique shrugged. “Don’t matter to me. I won’t go to prison, won’t have time to make the trial even. Doesn’t matter what I do now. But I get that you want to do it yourself. They got your friend.”
Enrique did understand, in his own way. “Keep it cool,” Diego said. “And go in peace.”
Enrique laughed, a harsh sound. “I’d rather go out fighting. You know, in a good battle. Don’t know why you’re so concerned about me, Diego. I was one of the reasons you ran out of here like you were on fire.”
“You were taking way too much money from my mom, who was working her ass off just to keep me and Xavier fed. She says hi, by the way.”
The man’s laughter rumbled again. “Juanita Escobar is one tough lady. She gave me the money but told me what she thought of me. You were a shit. A mouthy, too-tough-for-your-own-good kid, which is why I kept having you beat up. Heh.” He shook his head. “Look at us now.”
Yeah, right, those were good times.
Diego stood up and moved to leave. “I appreciate the info.”
Enrique looked up at Diego with tired eyes. “Why don’t you shoot me, Diego? Right now. I know you’re carrying. You always hated me. You can tell everyone I offed myself. Wouldn’t be far from the truth.”
Diego hesitated. Enrique was suffering. The pain in his eyes was real. He’d been a strong man—an alpha, in Shifter terms—though Enrique always put his own interests first. Eric, on the other hand, ensured that his family and everyone in his jurisdiction was protected.
Cassidy had to laugh. “They’ll get over it.”
“My boys try to intimidate the hell out of any male I show interest in. Not that males aren’t intimidated by me already. Damn, I wish I were petite.”
Cassidy squeezed Nell’s hand. “Males don’t like alpha females.”
“I know that, the shits. Until there’s a fight. Then they want us to save their asses.”
Cassidy shook her head. “Males.”
“That human of yours is no submissive himself, you know.”
“I figured that out the day I met him,” Cassidy said. “I saved his life, and it seriously pissed him off.”
“Yeah, I heard the story. Alphas don’t like to show weakness, especially to their females.”
Cassidy thought about that for a while, and also about the phone call that had made Diego back away from her, away from Shiftertown. He’d said it had nothing to do with Reid, but Cassidy wanted to know what it was about. Whatever it was had upset him, though Diego had tried not to show it. She’d scented his distress.
“Is Brody busy, Nell?” she asked.
“Brody? Sure you don’t want Shane?” Nell gave her a hopeful look, one she’d been giving Cassidy since they’d all moved to Shiftertown.
Cassidy sighed. “Nell, you know I like Shane, but…”
“But you aren’t interested in him as a mate. I know. I wouldn’t mind having you for a daughter-in-law, Cass, that’s a fact. But I understand. The mate bond can’t be forced, and now this human has caught your eye.”
“Diego was good to me when he didn’t have to be.”
Nell snorted with laughter. “Oh, please. You mean he’s majorly hot. I have eyes, sweetie.”
Cassidy couldn’t help her grin. “Well, that too.”
“Go. Get Brody. Do what you have to.”
Cassidy leaned down, kissed Nell on her smooth cheek, and walked through the darkness to the house next door.
Diego drove around the last corner and felt like he’d traveled backward in time. The same houses were still there, the same liquor store with men and women standing idly in front of it, slot machines inside flashing white and red lights into the night. He could swear the same homeless guys hung around the Dumpster on the other side.
Diego had left this street fourteen years ago when he’d enlisted in the Marines, vowing he wouldn’t be back. He had to come back, of course, from time to time. First to move his mother and brother out to the house his mom lived in now. Then, once he’d become a cop, his job had brought him back. Diego knew the streets and the people, which made him an asset to the LVPD.
One person Diego knew was Enrique Gonzales, a former gang leader who had made the young Diego’s life an unmerciful terror. Diego now approached the one-story row apartments where Enrique lived with a feeling of pity.
Enrique was dying. He’d contracted HIV from a shared needle a while back, and pancreatic cancer was taking him. Not long now, probably. A month or so at most.
The man lived in the same apartment his parents had, they having succumbed to disease years ago, bodies worn down by drugs. Enrique’s sister had fled the neighborhood the night she’d tried to kill him.
Enrique lived alone, getting money to pay for his needed medication by selling information to the police. Enrique knew everyone and had many connections, and he’d stopped worrying about people killing him for being a nark.
Diego took a step back when Enrique opened the door. Enrique had never been the cleanest of guys, and the house had always smelled. Now with Enrique alone and uncaring, the stink was bad.
A Shifter would run away howling. Maybe that was why Shiftertown was so damn clean—anything else offended their superior senses of smell.
“Hola, Diego.” Enrique shuffled away from the door. Formerly a huge man, he’d lost so much weight that his flesh sagged on his bones. “I got beer somewhere,” he said in Spanish.
Diego followed Enrique into the living room. “No, thanks.”
Diego took out a roll of cash, five hundred dollars, all twenties, and handed it to Enrique. Enrique pocketed the money without counting it and motioned for Diego to sit on a threadbare armchair.
The state-of-the-art TV in front of the chair had its sound muted, but a movie rolled across the screen in vivid images. Enrique plucked up a remote, shut off the TV, and slumped into another chair.
“It’s sometimes hard to find people in Mexico,” Enrique said, sticking to Spanish. “But I did it. They’re holed up in a little town called La Nébeda. They’re gringos, so they stand out, and they’re stupid, so they really stand out. Want me to have them taken down?”
Diego shook his head, though his heart beat faster in hope. “Stay out of it.”
Enrique shrugged. “Don’t matter to me. I won’t go to prison, won’t have time to make the trial even. Doesn’t matter what I do now. But I get that you want to do it yourself. They got your friend.”
Enrique did understand, in his own way. “Keep it cool,” Diego said. “And go in peace.”
Enrique laughed, a harsh sound. “I’d rather go out fighting. You know, in a good battle. Don’t know why you’re so concerned about me, Diego. I was one of the reasons you ran out of here like you were on fire.”
“You were taking way too much money from my mom, who was working her ass off just to keep me and Xavier fed. She says hi, by the way.”
The man’s laughter rumbled again. “Juanita Escobar is one tough lady. She gave me the money but told me what she thought of me. You were a shit. A mouthy, too-tough-for-your-own-good kid, which is why I kept having you beat up. Heh.” He shook his head. “Look at us now.”
Yeah, right, those were good times.
Diego stood up and moved to leave. “I appreciate the info.”
Enrique looked up at Diego with tired eyes. “Why don’t you shoot me, Diego? Right now. I know you’re carrying. You always hated me. You can tell everyone I offed myself. Wouldn’t be far from the truth.”
Diego hesitated. Enrique was suffering. The pain in his eyes was real. He’d been a strong man—an alpha, in Shifter terms—though Enrique always put his own interests first. Eric, on the other hand, ensured that his family and everyone in his jurisdiction was protected.
