Steel had laid down his weapons, for the most part, several years ago. He'd resigned after a mission turned hideously bad. In a war-torn rain forest, he'd learned the real truth about the world. He'd learned the hard way about shifters and other kinds of supernaturals.
And he would never be the same.
He'd been contacted by a representative of the Altor Custodis not long after. How they'd gotten his name, he still didn't know, but this band of watchers had even more resources than Interpol or the CIA. He ought to know. He'd worked with both during his long career in black ops.
All in all, this new gig wasn't bad. Steel traveled the country at his own pace, doing investigations and sending back reports. His expenses were taken care of and he got a nice, hefty bounty for each report he sent in. The money was going straight into his retirement fund-an overseas account he'd set up with an eye toward disappearing and reinventing himself once he was too old to work and still young enough to enjoy life a little. But the AC job wasn't that difficult. At least his life wasn't in constant jeopardy, as it had been elsewhere.
Sure, he had to be covert. A lot of the supernaturals he investigated would take exception to being watched and documented, so there was still enough of an element of danger to amuse him and keep him on his toes. But it wasn't nearly as bad as the old days. Steel was too good now to be tracked, seen or caught.
Or so he thought.
He'd just taken a bite of his sandwich when the hairs on the back of his neck prickled in alarm. He was being watched. No, more than that. He was being stalked.
Steel set aside his lunch and took a casual look around. Three marks-southwest, northwest and due east. That left him little choice for escape, but he spotted a few small alleys and driveways between the buildings that could prove useful. The three all had the look of were. Well, wasn't that interesting?
They'd crept up on him, though how they'd managed to do it, he didn't understand. Sure, they were were, but Steel prided himself on his instincts. He'd have thought no supernatural could take him unaware after the training he'd received from the AC. Perhaps today was the day he'd be proven wrong, but he wouldn't go quietly.
Aware of his odds, he had to make a quick decision. Flee, fight or surrender. It wasn't in his nature to surrender right off the bat, and he wasn't in the mood for a fight. For one thing, he had no beef with these people. He had a few principles left and one of his cardinal rules was never to kill someone who didn't deserve it.
He didn't recognize any of these shifters, but could tell right off they were supernaturals. They didn't try to hide it. In fact, they let the distinctive shift show in their eyes-about the equivalent of a muscle man flexing. It was a silent signal that said, «Don't fuck with me.» He saw the eyes flare on the woman heading straight for him and didn't stick around to find out why a bunch of were had tracked him down. So he took the third option. He fled.
But he didn't get far. They'd double teamed him, which meant they wanted him bad. The second string was waiting as he fled down an alley, and this time he recognized the leader of the group, a werehawk named Collin Hastings. Steel knew the man's reputation as an elite private detective and had even seen his service record.
Hastings had served in the U.S. Army Rangers. Seemed he was a natural parachutist. If only his superiors had known the man gliding so effortlessly on the wind currents was as at home in the sky as he was on land. But the Army didn't know everything about Hastings. They'd signed him up, trained him, and let him go when his last stint was over.
To be fair, Hastings had spent more than his share of time in the Army. He'd re-upped a few times, rising through the ranks to retire as a Captain. Privately Steel thought the werehawk would still be in, had his lack of appropriate aging not been so visible. Even the Army would eventually look twice at a man who didn't seem to age at all.
Steel stopped running when he saw the second team closing in. He was in an alley and were blocked both ends. They'd trapped him good and well. Even with all his training and experience, he knew he didn't stand a chance against six werecreatures, at least one of whom he knew could claim the high ground in the form of a raptor. He cursed as he raised his hands in surrender. No sense getting the snot beaten out of himself by seeming to resist. These folks wanted to talk to him and they'd gone through a hell of a lot of trouble to do it. The least he could do was hear what they had to say.
«All right, you got me.» He spoke loud enough to be heard by sharp were senses. «Now will someone tell me what the fuck is going on here?»
Hastings strode forward, his people closing in around Steel. «We mean you no harm, Mr. Steel. As long as you're not Venifucus.»
Venifucus? Steel started at the word. He'd been briefed about the ancient evil society, but his handlers in the Altor Custodis claimed the Venifucus were long gone. His interest was piqued. Why would these people think he was one of those long-gone bad guys? Unless…
«I heard they were wiped out a few centuries ago. You've got the wrong guy.»
He stared down the leader of the group, impressed with the way Hastings carried himself. Here was a man who knew the score, and how to operate in the real world. Steel respected that. He thought they might've even been friends had they met under different circumstances.
«Haven't you heard? They've been making a comeback. Whether or not you're one of them remains to be seen, Mr. Steel, but you'll understand we have to make certain.»
«I'm listening.»
Hastings' head tilted, his ears cocked. Steel knew that look. The were had exceptional hearing and could pick up stuff most humans would never hear.
«Not here,» Hastings said shortly. «Please come with us, Mr. Steel. We have quite a bit to discuss and I can assure your safety as long as you're not on the wrong team.»
Shrugging, he decided to play along. They had him. Six were against one mortal were bad odds, even for him. They walked in formation, Steel in the center of the group, to a parking area a short distance from the mouth of the alley. Two black SUVs waited there. Hastings and two of his operatives escorted him into the first vehicle, the rest of the team taking the second. They piled in and headed out on a circuitous route. They wasted little time getting out of the downtown area, but after that, they took quite a few twists and turns to foul their trail.
As soon as they were on open road, Hastings seemed to relax a bit. «I regret the abduction, Mr. Steel, but as I said, the Venifucus are back and we need some answers.»
«So why me? I'm nobody.»
The werehawk leveled a cold stare at him. «Evil has followed in your tracks for the past year, Mr. Steel. Either you're a very skilled liar or someone near you is killing off supernaturals as they find them. Through you. Just on gut instinct, after meeting you, I'll admit my money's on Gonzalez.»
«What did you say?» His mind spun as he realized the watchers were also being watched. This guy knew his contact's name and claimed to have information about his movements for the past year. A chill ran down his spine though he didn't let his apprehension show.
«Mario Gonzalez. Don't play coy, Mr. Steel. I have another team picking him up as we speak. One of you has left a trail of bodies in your wake. Right now, I'm willing to entertain the idea that it wasn't you, though knowing your history and training, I would've bet money on you as the perp before today.»
«That's comforting.» Steel's sarcasm was obvious.