Page 22 of Blood Bearon
He hesitated. They rarely went by last names among his House, since they were all the same. Ursa. If he told the detective though, she would think he was a relative.
“Unknown,” he admitted. “He just goes by Korred.”
“Okay. How do you know it’s him? What’s his story? How does he fit into the picture here? Why is he targeting your businesses?” Rachel stared at him eagerly, pen poised over paper, ready to scribble information down.
“Uh, I guess you could say he’s a disgruntled employee.” Khove stumbled over the words, forcing himself to explain things in terms that would sound normal to a human. “You know the type. Thought he should be promoted. In charge, really. He wanted to make the decisions. When that was denied to him, he attacked the, um, the CEO and the Board, and then fled.”
The pen flew across the paper. “He attacked? Was a police report filed?”
“No.”
“How come?”
Khove shrugged. “Not my call to make. I guess they figured it wouldn’t be worth the attention to the company.”
“A company that seems to own a large portion of real estate in Plymouth Falls, that nobody has ever heard of? Right.”
He declined to say that they owned companies, properties and more across the globe, and were worth more than all but the biggest multinationals. That was information they workedextremelyhard to keep off public radar, though it was growing increasingly more difficult in the information age.
“Something like that. All we know is he has a lot of money, and apparently contacts with whatever sort of organized underworld exists in Plymouth Falls. He’s come back and seems intent on destroying what he can’t have.”
Khove sat back, crossing his arms, upset at airing his House’s dirty laundry to the human public. These were the sorts of things that should be solved by shifters without involving humans. But Korred was throwing a temper tantrum that he couldn’t have what wasn’t his, and he’d dragged the neighbors into his fight now.
“He sounds like a real gem,” Rachel said, putting the pen down and reading over what she’d written.
“You have no idea,” he muttered. What he’d just told her was averywatered down version of what the true Korred was like.
After all, how did you explain that he was actually a maniacal, traitorous magic-wielding man who could shift into a giant bear and was intent on taking down one of the most powerful institutions in the paranormal world, High House Ursa?
The answer was: you didn’t. Khove needed the detective at her best and brightest, so she could focus on tracking him down. Then Khove would kill Korred. That wasn’t going to happen if she was too busy trying to put her shattered world back together if he showed her the truth.
He brought himself back to reality, only to be pinned into his chair by Rachel’s stare. The sun was shining in from outside the diner and reflecting off her eyes, turning them a brighter shade of blue. The intensity in them never wavered, and he felt like shifting in the chair as she continued to bore into him.
She knew. That was the only explanation. She knew he wasn’t telling her the complete truth, and now she was trying to decide how hard to push him about it. It only made sense, of course. This was a trained police detective, who by all accounts was pretty darn good at her job. Khove shouldn’t expect her to take him at face value, and she wasn’t doing.
“Why didn’t you share this from the start?” she asked calmly, letting him off the hook. For now.
They would revisit this topic, he was certain, but for now she let it slide.
“Because,” he growled, picking at a fingernail. “We’re much more akin to a family.”
“I don’t follow.”
Khove looked everywhere but at her. “We don’t like airing our dirty laundry in public, okay? We try to handle it ourselves, so that it doesn’t get out. Staying off the radar, out of the news. That’s our specialty.”
He desperately wanted to avoid lying to Rachel, but he wasn’t about to bring her into his world either. It was a fine balancing act he was attempting here, but he had to make it. Khove had seen deep in her face the night before, noticing just how badly she’d been rattled by his disappearance. Much more so than she had let on.
Khove had, in a way, hurt her, though he wasn’t sure how, and he didn’t intend to do it again. Something was calling to him, telling him to stay near her. Whether it was her feisty attitude, desire to protect those around her, or simply her searing good looks, he wasn’t sure. But he was going to find out.
“Dirty laundry,” she repeated. “Right. So instead of the police, they send you. A private…assassin, to do the job?”
“Excuse me?”
“Seriously Khove? Think about all the training and expertise you told me you had. Look at your size, your muscles and athleticism. You’re clearly ex-military, and this company keeps you on for skills that are perfectly suited to preventing dirty laundry from being aired.” She leaned in close, eyes blazing. “Tell me the truth. Am I working with the mafia?”
He had to choke back his laughter.Thatwas where she was going with this? Rachel thought he was part of some sort of organized crime syndicate? He sagged with relief.
“I am not the mafia or associated with them,” he said, somehow keeping a straight face.
