Page 5 of Under Dark Skies

This shifter was a complete stranger, and Layla had learned from a young age that you don’t instantly trust strangers. But she was seeking his help, and he was clearly adamant about giving it. But to go somewhere completely new and try to start again? That was beyond her comfort zone.

“What if I stayed with a friend? Someone I work with.”

The machine clanked and scanned loudly. Rafe paused while it finished its intrusive whirl before he responded.

“That would be too predictable. That will be one of the first places they look.”

Layla knew that already, but didn’t want to admit it to herself. She really didn’t want to admit the depth of the shit that she was actually in anyway.

Sometimes dental is easier to cope with.

“Okay.” Layla said, fiddling with her fingers. Rafe finished photocopying and returned to his desk, placing his copy in a drawer beside him and then handing the original to her.

“It was right of you to come to her for this. The cops wouldn’t know what to do with it, and its clear that there is a fair level of corruption brewing. I am very discreet and efficient, I assure you.”

She took the piece of paper back, holding it between her hands. Her eyes were mesmerizing due to the fact that they were terrifying. Striking may be the better word. For that reason she only held eye contact for a brief few seconds.

“Thank you.” Layla said in a low voice, then perked it up louder out of sheer annoyance that a man could intimidate her so.

“How long do you think this will take? How long should I be lying low for.”

“There is no way to determine that at this point.” He had returned to his computer, and was typing rapidly. “I’ll have to do some digging and then go from there. Do you have a cell phone?”

Layla nodded.

“Good.” His fingers move like lightning across a bare sky. “When you aren’t using it, be sure to turn it off. I would say to get rid of it entirely but then there would be no way for me to contact you. And Layla, can I call you Layla?”

“That’s fine.” She looked up from staring at the sheet of paper that had caused her so much strife.

He moved his eyes from the computer screen and has halted typing. His eyes pierce her to make a point.

“Make sure you don’t show this to anyone. You never know who could be around. Or who has perhaps already been gathering intel.”

Layla felt like her throat was dry. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away. He gave her no indication of sympathy. He turned back to his computer.

“Now get to that hideaway as soon as you can.” He pushed a piece of paper with the address written hastily.

“Be sure to burn that once you get there. I will contact you for further instructions.”

Layla stood up and left the office without a word.

Six

Rafe

Rafe leaned back in his chair and placed his hands in front of his face in a praying position. He closed his eyes and sighed. This couldn’t be happening. It seemed outrageous, but the letter from this mysterious woman pointed to the outrageous being true. The emotion in her eyes could not betray her either.

She was human after all, which meant Rafe could read her like a lie detector. Humans usually sweated more when they were lying, excreting certain hormones that a wolf like Rafe was too experienced to miss. Her tears would have to have been elaborate acting as well, which in general, wouldn’t fool Rafe either when it came down to it.

The sun had gone down. Rafe didn’t even have to look out the window to know that. The darkness was just something he felt. It ran through his blood like a river.

He shot his eyes open. The first person he was going to visit was Sol, one of the alpha’s accused in Layla’s letter to be stirring up an overthrow of the elders. It would be easy to spot Rafe investigating, so he needed to cloak it with a sheer indifference toward the elders. Make Sol think he was on his side. But he wouldn’t lean too hard—Sol was a wolf too after all, and could more than likely sniff out a lie when he caught a whiff of one.

Rafe closed up his office and headed straight for Sol’s club. It was Friday, so he was sure it’d be bumping. When he got there, the line ran along the block. Rafe thought about using his name at the door, but he didn’t interact with Sol often, so taking advantage of his status might irk Sol. He decided to wait in line with humans and shifters alike, all ready for a loud and hectic night ahead of them.

It took almost half an hour, but eventually Rafe was able to get inside. When he did he headed for the emptiest side of the bar. It was only ten, so the party was just getting started. He ordered a whiskey and nursed it, pretending to watch the women in their tight outfits walk by. It wasn’t that he couldn’t appreciate them as works of art—he did—but he was working, and nothing got in the way of that.

It had been years since he’d been there, but not much had changed. The music thumped with modern tunes, and vibrant lights flashed neon blue and pink. Everyone was gaining some liquid courage to head to the dance floor. Rafe half hoped Sol would remember him, half hoped he wouldn’t. Either result had its pros and cons.

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