After a moment of staring into Tucker’s frightened gaze, where I considered disobeying orders and made sure he knew it, I released my grip. Red skin marked where my fingers had dug in. Tucker looked away, no longer able to meet the fury I knew danced in my eyes.
I wiped off my clothes after I stood up and turned to Agent Booth. The skirt was ripped from the hem to the waistband. Anyone looking would see all of my leg and a bit of my hot pink undies. Lifting my chin, I tried to look dignified. If they tried to take me out, I planned to take down as many of them as possible, starting with Tucker.
Booth ignored me and turned to Tucker, who still gasped for breath on the floor. “I told you not to ask her that,” her flat tone echoed in the room. Her gaze flickered to me. “If you’ll give me a few minutes, Agent McNeilly, I will be right with you.”
I flopped back into a chair and tried to ignore the numbness in my ass cheeks. These contraptions were not meant for long term use.
“Will you require any more of my services?” O’Donnell asked from the corner of the room. He hadn’t budged since my attack on Tucker. At all. He hadn’t run to aid his co-worker. Would he have sat there while I killed him? Probably. Who knows, he might’ve helped if I needed it.
“No, that’s all, Donny. Thank you.” Booth’s expression softened when she looked at the old man. She liked him. And that made me like her. A little.
O’Donnell unfolded and walked over to me. His coyote followed.
“A pleasure to meet you, Carus.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. His whiskers scratched my face. “I’ve waited a long time to meet you.”
He smiled at my shocked expression and walked out of the room.
“Carus?” Booth asked.
“It’s a term of endearment amongst Shifters.” I shrugged it off. My heart beat rapidly and I was thankful to no longer be hooked up to the machine. It would have beeped and flashed like a Christmas display, and I’d be doomed to the government laboratories.
Rumpled and visibly shaken, Tucker picked himself off the ground and made a show of straightening his suit. Would he challenge me? Tell me I would regret what I’d done? Part of me hoped he would.
Good prey, my mountain lion hissed.
“Agent McNeilly,” he mumbled as he walked out of the room with his head down.
I turned to the other person in the room. She observed me, watching my reactions. Once again I tried to catch her scent.
“You have no scent,” I stated.
“Everyone has a scent,” she said, flipping her hand in the air as if to say, ‘no big deal.’
I shook my head. “How are you masking it?”
Agent Booth examined her nails, smiling at her little secret. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. “And we’re not here to discuss me.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “What now?”
Agent Booth picked a chair off the ground and sat in it. “Now, we get you a reliable handler.”
“So I’m not fired?” I perked up.
“As you pointed out, you did everything right and you passed the lie detector test.” She paused to examine her manicure. “The fault and blame lies with Landen.”
“No repercussions for my assault on Tucker?”
Agent Booth snorted. “Not even his daddy dearest can defend his actions.”
A slow smile spread across my face. “Do I get to choose my next handler?”
Booth’s features appeared to pinch inward, the neurons in her brain probably making a zillion calculations. “Do you know any other handlers in the agency?” she asked. “Who would you pick?”
“I don’t know any other handlers, but if I can pick, I want O’Donnell,” I said.
Agent Booth laughed, the rich sound didn’t match her raspy voice. “I will give you O’Donnell, on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You find out who Landen worked for and report back to me. Directly.” Her probing eye contact let me know how serious she was. Why did she want me to report to her? Was the SRD not the big happy family their public image implied? One thing was for sure—there was more going on and without having any knowledge, it left me in a vulnerable position.
I pulled back from the table and held my hand out. “Deal. I planned to do that anyway.”
Agent Booth stood and shook my hand. Her smile made me wonder whether I’d made a mistake asking for O’Donnell. She looked too pleased.
“Leave your number with Angie and I’ll have O’Donnell contact you.”
“Angie?”
“The tart of a receptionist they saddled me with.”