She came to her feet slowly, clutching her purse under her left arm and staring down at Dorian.
“If you don’t take what I say seriously you’ll keep running in endless circles trying to pin this murder on Xavier. He’s not a killer. And the longer you keep looking in his direction the longer the real killer circulates the streets, being ingested by innocent victims and making a mad race up the charts for the world’s number one drug killer.” Then she shrugged. “But what do I know, I’m the traitor on the force. The one who wouldn’t be handled like a puppet in your game of politics versus justice any longer. It was my fault to think you, of all people, might be above that. My fault indeed.”
As she turned to leave, Dorian got up from his chair, racing around the desk to grab her by the arm and turn her back to face him.
“Kalina, wait,” he was saying only about a split second before Jax pushed between them.
He held a palm to Dorian’s chest while his bulky frame blocked Kalina from further assault.
“Don’t touch her again,” he told Dorian.
Dorian looked down at Jax’s hand, then reached for the gun in his holster, pulling it out and clicking off the safety right in Jax’s face.
“You do realize you’re assaulting a federal agent. I can either kill you or arrest you. Take your pick.” Dorian’s brow wrinkled, his lips going to a thin line.
Kalina put a hand on Jax’s bicep but looked directly at Dorian. “You won’t do either if you know what’s best for you,” she said as calmly as she’d come into his office and spoken ten minutes ago. “We’re finished here, Jax.”
The shifter gave Dorian a slight push as he moved his hand from his chest. He backed away from Dorian, keeping Kalina protected by his body. Dorian continued to hold the gun outstretched. He continued to stare at both Kalina and Jax. He did not pull the trigger and he did not call for backup to have them arrested.
Later, Dorian would wonder why.
It was just after five in the afternoon when Kalina walked into Havenway—or into what she considered complete chaos.
Jax always brought her in through the underground entrance. So after she’d taken the elevator up to the main level she came out at a side door in the front hall of the building. The original dwelling had a T shape, but Rome had ordered new construction to start on the remaining side so there would be two very long hallways with rooms and a connecting wing that would house their main briefing room, the kitchen, dining hall, and medical center. Normally, this hallway was quiet; everybody liked to use the side entrances. But today, it was brimming with shifters, guards all wearing their com links, some in small groups, others lining up and heading to the temporary briefing room. All of them were spitting mad.
Her nostrils flared at the scent of anger and rage wafting through the air. It was a strong, potent, and very distinctive smell that reminded her of the ammonia her foster mother made her use to clean the bathrooms. Something was definitely going on.
An alarm blared and she startled, putting a hand to her chest. That was the signal that Rome was ready for them in the briefing room. She had just taken a step to join them when Jax grabbed her arm. He’d been right behind her when she entered; then she lost track of him because of her concern for what was going on in the place she called home. He was whispering something in his com link but wouldn’t let her go.
“FL wants you with him, now,” was all Jax said before guiding her through the mass of guards heading in the same direction.
Her heart beat frantically in her chest as so many different scenarios raced through her mind. At least Rome was safe; she could breathe easily about that. But this, everything going on around her, was definitely a sign of something big.
The briefing room was roughly the size of a gymnasium, which wouldn’t be able to house all the active shifter guards in DC much longer. There was a stage toward one end, and a podium with a sound system had been set up there. Behind the stage the wall was draped in black, the Topètenia insignia in a vibrant green color that reminded her of the foliage in the Gungi poking through the intense black, growing and dominating just about every part of the rain forest. The floor was a dark laminate with cushioned chairs lined in rows of twenty across, ten upward, on each side with a three-foot-wide aisle in between.
Jax escorted her down as guards filed inside, taking whatever seats were available. The stage was still empty, so she looked around for Rome and let out a breath of release when he and Nick followed by Eli and Ezra came through a side door. Everyone took the stage except Rome, who stood there looking at her like he’d lost his best friend. The fact that his slacks and suit jacket were black added to his somber facade. His shoes were shined as always, the dark-chocolate hue of his skin and deep brown eyes lending its own air of resignation to his stance.
“Oh God, X,” she said rushing toward him, falling into his open arms.
He shook his head, enfolding her against his chest, holding her there tightly. “No. It was Seth.”
The strangled cry that came from her then was heartfelt and cut through her with a ruthless intensity that had tears stinging her eyes. “What happened?” she asked, pulling back just enough to look into her husband’s somber brown eyes.
“Rogues” was all he said.
Kalina could tell this was hard for him. His teeth clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his jaw.
“They’re all here,” Eli whispered to Rome.
Rome nodded and kept his arm around Kalina. She took the stairs to the stage before him, but felt comforted by his hand at her back. Eli and Jax followed them both just like shadows. She could literally hear them breathing behind her, they were so close.
When Rome approached the podium it took only a few seconds for silence to fall over the room like a drape. His presence beckoned obedience throughout. Maybe it was because of the pure power his six-foot-two-and-a-half-inch stature exuded, or it could have been the calm that emanated from him regardless of the situation. Whatever the cause, the guards sat straight in their chairs or stood with legs partially gaped, hands clasped in front of them, eyes focused on their leader, waiting for his command. He stood strong, Kalina standing right beside him. She’d been clasping and unclasping her hands until he reached down and laced his fingers through hers.
“We’ve just been alerted that Seth Jamison is dead. As many of you may already know, Seth was attacked earlier this morning. The attack was not by a human.”
Collective sighs, curses, and gasps sounded immediately. Rome lifted a hand to silence them.
“His vehicle was recovered. We’re reviewing the video that was picked up from his dashboard camera. Preliminarily I will say that it was a shifter of unknown variety.”
More comments and some slamming and stomping filled the room. Jax stepped even closer to Kalina.
“For now, we will stand down,” Rome continued.
The crowd did not like those words.
Rome spoke even louder, so that it sounded like his voice would break every speaker in the place.
“I said for now,” he reiterated, taking a slow, deep breath before continuing. “But we will find out who did this and when we do, he and whoever he’s connected to will pay.”
Now there was applause. From her peripheral vision she could see that even Nick clapped. At that Rome stepped to the side and nodded to Nick.
The butter-toned shifter who stood about an inch above Rome was dressed in a navy-blue suit, crisp white shirt and sky-blue tie. On his left hand he wore a diamond-encrusted wedding band. On his right wrist was a Tag Heuer, its face glistening in the spotlight that had been lit on the podium. And when he spoke, as with Rome, there was complete silence, absolute obedience. This could be attributed as much to Nick’s volatile nature as his sculptured good looks and lethal candor.