Float like a butterfly. Kill like a swallowtail.
Scott knows his boring day is over the second a bloody and scared George Kelvin crashes into his office, claiming people are trying to kill him. He knows he should pass the case over to one of his brothers, but he can’t seem to do it. The strength and resilience of the man mixed with a quirky sense of humor fascinate him. He may be a human in the company of powerful shifters, but he’s just as deadly and well trained as the rest of his brothers.
With devious CIA agents, foreign forces gunning for what George possesses and George’s power-hungry father, who is also Deputy Director of the FBI, Scott begins to wonder if he’s bitten off more than he can chew.
George always knew his father was dangerous and cruel. However, he never thought that those titles would inadequately sum up the lengths his father is willing to go to, to get what he wants. The only chance he has is using whatever is on file against his father. Staying alive to do that is another challenge. When he runs into the Shifter Protection Specialists, Inc. office, he’s desperate, but isn’t convinced anyone can protect him from his father. Risking more than he’d thought possible, he discovers that maybe he is more than he’s always been taught to believe.
One thing is for certain—his father is not going to give up easily.
General Release Date: 1st December 2015
Cradling his injured hand to his chest, he clutched the strap of his go-bag with the other. His boots were a little big, clumping slightly as he walked, and they were starting to rub up one hell of a blister. But it had been worth it.
His laptop was safely tucked away under a loose tile in the ceiling of his old music room. Thank God the school staff hadn’t found the secret way in and fixed the broken fence bar and window. Of course, none of the students at the prestigious boarding school were the sort to sneak out, especially since it would involve going into a supply closet. That would be beneath them and more suited for the glorified servants of the janitorial staff. This escape route probably hadn’t been used since George had been there learning violin as a means to avoid going home. It had been either learn an instrument or join a sport team.
He’d traveled for hours to his old school, careful to keep his collar up and his baseball cap down. Every time he got off one bus, he ducked into a store and changed his appearance in the restroom. It had really confused the store security guards.
So far, he’d gone through a blue zipper jacket, an orange hoody, a Christmas jumper and a thick second-hand winter coat as well as one pair of black shoes, flip-flops, trainers and the scruffy gray boots he was wearing now with his skin-tight gray jeans and winter coat. He’d also swapped out two caps, one beanie, a pair of mirror shades and a fairly convincing brown curly wig. He’d used makeup from the free sample shelf in the beauty aisle to cover the birthmark on his left cheekbone.
There could be no trail from him to his laptop.
Ducking into yet another café, he used the last of his emergency money to buy a small coffee. The server must have been only about seventeen, but as she poured the dark, delicious liquid into a cup, she looked him up and down, popping her gum. Her name tag read ‘Milly’.
“I get off at six, you know, if you want to do something,” Milly said with a grin wide enough to scare off a shark.
“I’m too old for you,” he answered with a kind smile. Hopefully this wouldn’t turn into some sort of scene.
Frowning, Milly’s sultry body language changed to confusion as she hesitated in holding out his coffee. “I’m old enough. I could show you a good time.”
“I have no doubt. You’d chew me up and spit me out.” George was very aware of the small queue of angry office workers trying to get their caffeine fix on their short breaks that had formed behind him. Their collection of stares and glowers was beginning to drill a hole in the back of his skull.
Milly laughed at his hushed words, and he sighed in relief. His mouth had spat the words out before his brain could vet them. Sometimes he just had no filter.
“On the house, hon.” Milly waved off his offer of money and winked at him. “You could just have said you weren’t batting for my team, hot stuff. Dom, the chef, is single, though, if you fancied a go ‘round with him. He used to be a model and he’s ripped.”
Dear God, why couldn’t the ground swallow George up right now?
“Umm, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the coffee.” He mustered a smile and quickly scuttled over to take one of the empty tables and a seat facing the door. He’d be able to kill some time here and keep an eye on everyone going by. Breaking up the timeline of his journey would make it even harder for him to be tracked by anyone looking for him.
Taking off like he had would not only have infuriated his father, but also, his fleeing would have been taken as an admission of guilt. Yes, George did have the file. No, he hadn’t stolen it. Frank Jr. had, actually. But that truth was never going to fly with good ol’ Colonel Kelvin.
No one could bad mouth the golden child without reprisal.
Now, his brother could be psychopathic, but there was usually a reason for his schemes, some end goal that eluded everyone until whatever master plan had been completed. It was more than a little twisted.
That was another thing he had to worry about. How was he suddenly mixed up in whatever Frank Jr. wanted? It could just be that his brother wanted to get him into trouble with their father. That had been a favorite pastime of his over the years.
Picking up his cup, George blew over the hot liquid to cool it enough so that he could take a sip. It soothed his nerves as it warmed his throat, and he could almost imagine the glorious caffeine hitting his blood and perking up all his cells.
“I adore you, coffee. Our affair will never last, though. You’re way out of my league. An expensive high for a morning of love.” He ignored the strange looks he was getting from the people around him and drank again. They clearly didn’t understand. Coffee was a luxury George allowed himself only once in a blue moon. He shouldn’t really. But damn, it was good.
All too soon, he swallowed the last of the glorious elixir and the small cup was empty. It was time for him to change clothes again before moving on.
Getting up from the table, he grabbed his bag then made a beeline straight for the bathroom. He was almost there when a businessman reading a newspaper caught his eye, making him slow down. The man appeared to be in his late forties and wore a simple, plain suit, had his hair cut in a nondescript short style and wore a large-faced silver wristwatch. He wasn’t sure what it was that set him on edge…until he noticed the front page of the newspaper.
MODEL ATTACKED BY DISGUISED VILLIAN INTERVIEWS
His heart pounding hard and fast, he came to a stop next to the bathroom and squinted to read the smaller print below the headline. The story was about some male model who had been stalked and kidnapped. According to the interview, the model was now back to work after a hospitalization in Italy with his brother and shifter boyfriend.
That wasn’t what chilled his blood, though. It was the description of the events leading up to the attack and the stalker’s MO—the traps, the chasing and being an expert at disguising himself and assuming identities. It all screamed Frank Jr., and when the man reading the paper adjusted his grip, and the paper lifted, George caught sight of the model’s photo—dark hair, cheekbones to die for and an innocent temptation written in the stunning eyes.
The model would be like catnip for Frank Jr. It had to be Frank’s work.
“Can I help you?”
The annoyed tone snapped him back to the here and now, and he glanced up to see that the person reading the paper was now glaring at him with suspicion.
“Sorry, sir, I was just reading the article on the front.” He did his best to smile and portray light interest. Telling the man the truth would only freak him out. Hell, it was freaking George out.
“Oh. Call me Edgar. Terrible business, all these pyschos running about.” Edgar looked him up and down before obviously deciding that he wasn’t a threat. “There’s another article about it in today’s. This is yesterday’s. I’m just checking the sports result. I put a bet on without the missus knowing. I wanted to know if I need to buy her flowers or not,” Edgar said, tapping a finger to his nose and winking.
Pretending to understand, George chuckled and nodded with a wink back. “May I ask whether you’re in the dog house?”
Smirking and closing the paper, Edgar grinned widely. “No, in fact I may just have to buy my wife something shiny to celebrate.”
“A win-win situation for your lovely wife, then.” Wetting his lips, George finally asked the question he wanted to. “Did you say there was another article about this story?”
“Yes. I have today’s, I’ve gone through that already. Here you go, have them both. I need to get to the office anyway.”
Accepting the folded paper, George smiled and waved Edgar off as he got up and left. George ran into the bathroom and closed himself away in one of the empty stalls. As soon as he slid the lock into place, he then turned to put the lid down on the toilet and sat, dropping his bag at his feet then opening the newspaper and searching for the story Edgar had referred to.
He didn’t need to search for long. It was the second page in. The front page was taken up with another sex tape scandal from some waste of space Barbie doll.
DISGUISED KILLER SLAIN BY SNIPER
“Oh, fuck.”
This was bad. This was very bad.
Add to Wishlist
Read a Sample
Send as a Gift
Available in:
epub, mobi, pdf 
Facebook
Twitter
Newsletter