He pulled out his cell phone, and within minutes, an unmarked panel van pulled up to the curb. An agent dressed in black fatigues burst through the rear doors, scruffed the dealerby the neck and waistband, and threw his ass inside. Dom two-patted the side of the van, and it drove away.
One down, how many more to go? He ran a hand through his hair and walked slowly back to the Porsche parked around the corner.
It was the same thing, night after night, here and in Seattle. God, he was so sick of it. He didn’t know how much more of this bullshit he could take. He picked up an empty blood vial and tossed it into a nearby trash can.
These kids weren’t the problem. Pavlos was the problem, andhewas somewhere in the South.
When he opened the car door, his cell phone vibrated. He climbed in, glanced at the screen and cursed. Nice text. Where the hell did Santiago think he was?
Portland, he texted back.
The guy was a serious micromanager. Or maybe he just didn’t trust Dom. Especially given what had happened withher.He never should’ve told his boss. It should've been his own twisted little secret.
He cranked the seat back and closed his eyes. Not that Dom had come to the Horseshoe Bay Region with glowing recommendations, but no one—not his old commander, not the other field agents he’d led or trained over the years, or even the few humans he’d worked with who knew about the Agency—questioned his effectiveness or loyalty. But then, not all of them knew about what had happened with Alfonso, either.
Dom leaned his head on the steering wheel and his mind wandered to Mackenzie again. What was she doing right now? He checked his watch. Perhaps she was home watching a movie. Or organizing something. Or cleaning. Or maybe she was in bed early on a Friday night, curled up with a book. He rubbed that ever-present ache centered in his chest and groaned.
Irritated by his inability to keep her out of his thoughts, he jumped out of the car again, hit the alarm remote and jogged back to the freeway underpass. Usually he went weeks between live feedings, but maybe someone else’s blood would dilute the effects of hers, still present and way too strong in his system. Hopefully, the human loser he’d spotted earlier down by the river was still there. He’d take a quick mouthful, and if the guy was as drunk as he appeared earlier, Dom might not even need to bother with wiping his memory.
The phone vibrated again.Shit.Santiago had decided to call this time.
He answered it. “This is Dom.”
“Your old phone— You told me it was busted.” No hello or how’s it going for Santiago.
“Yes, and...”
“Come on, I know you haven’t forgotten. But let me refresh your fading memory. The goddamn phone with all the DB data that landed Stryker in the clinic and you with that sweetblood.”
Dom cringed. “Yes, what about it?”
“Care to explain something to me then?”
“What? The thing was busted. I told you already.” Dom clicked the volume button down a few notches and held the phone away from his ear just as Santiago erupted.
“Tell me why in the hell a broken phone would suddenly go online again. Why a broken phone started pinging from a cell tower near the mall in the Northend today. Why a broken phone has been pinging on St. Francis Hill where it’s been sitting for the last hour.”
Mackenzie’s neighborhood.Palming his keys, he turned around and sprinted back to the Porsche.
“You didn’t get the phone back from that woman, did you?”
“No. But I told you. I thought it was broken.”
“Thought? You thought? Goddamn it. You fucking lied to me. You know how important that data is. I’m sending Foss over to get it back from her one way or another.”
Dom felt his pupils dilate with rage as he yanked the car door open. “You keep him away from her.”
He had hoped his desire for her would wane, but the thought of Jackson getting close to her filleted his guts from pelvis to sternum. His focus narrowed to a dark tunnel, and her name drummed over and over in his head. He started the car and headed for the freeway.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph. You screwed up and I’m sending him to clean up your mess. First, the illegal blood transfer and now this. What the hell is going on with you?”
“No. I’ll handle it. I’m leaving Portland now. Be there in two hours.”
“Handle it like you did the first time? That damn phone better be back at the field office by midnight tonight or I’m sending Foss. Two hours? You’re crazy. You’ll be lucky to do it in four.”
“I said I’ll be there in two.” With a punch of his thumb, he ended the call.
Of course, Santiago was right. He should’ve gotten the damn phone back from her that night by walking right into her house and taking it directly from her as she screamed. A simple memory wipe, and that would’ve been it. But he hadn’t.
