5. Chapter 5 – Leo
" D etective Byers, a word."
Captain Raine's voice calls through the bullpen chatter, and I look up from my mountain of paperwork. She's standing in the doorway of her office, face as expressionless as ever. That's never a good sign.
"Yes, Captain." I push back from my desk, ignoring the sympathetic glance from my partner, Rodriguez.
The walk to her office feels longer than usual. I've been on edge since we found another shifter's body yesterday. It's the third one this month with signs of the Crimson Plague. The virus is spreading faster than anyone wants to admit.
Captain Raine closes the door behind me and gestures to the chair across from her desk. I sit, my back straight, and wait.
"I'm reassigning you," she says without preamble.
"Ma'am?" My fingers tighten on the armrests. "I'm in the middle of the Riverside case. We're close to…"
"Rodriguez will handle it." She slides a folder across her desk. "This is your new assignment, effective immediately."
I don't reach for the folder. "What kind of assignment?"
"Protective detail."
My jaw clenches. "I'm not a babysitter, Captain."
"You are whatever this department needs you to be, Detective." Her tone leaves no room for argument. "And right now, we need you to protect Dr. Dahlia Baldwin."
I know that name. Everyone in shifter circles does.
"The geneticist?" I finally pick up the folder. "Why does she need protection?"
“Her lab was broken into last week. All her research on the Crimson Plague was stolen or destroyed." Captain Raine leans back in her chair. "Blackthorn Biotech has requested our best officer for her security detail."
"Blackthorn." I can't keep the contempt from my voice. "Since when do we take orders from Evan Blackthorn?"
"Since he pays half the city's taxes and sits on the police commissioner's board." She narrows her eyes. "I know you have... reservations about scientists, Leo. But this isn't optional."
Reservations. That's one way to put it. Images of Tessa flash through my mind. My sister, hooked up to machines in some lab, studied like a specimen while the Crimson Plague ate her alive from the inside.
"With all due respect, Captain, I'm a homicide detective. Not a bodyguard."
"And she's our best chance at finding a cure for the virus that's killing our kind." Captain Raine's voice softens slightly. "I know about Tessa, Leo. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."
I clench my jaw so hard my teeth might crack. She's playing the Tessa card. And worse, it's working.
"How long?" I ask, already knowing I've lost this fight.
"Indefinite. Until we find who's targeting her." She hands me another file. "Here's the address. She's expecting you within the hour."
I stand, tucking both folders under my arm. "Yes, ma'am."
"And Leo?" she calls as I reach the door. "Try not to scare her. We need her brain intact."
I don't respond. I'm too busy fighting the urge to punch something.
Forty minutes later, I'm standing outside a modest apartment building in the university district, still seething.
I've read through Baldwin's file twice. She's a brilliant scientist with multiple degrees and a leading researcher on shifter genetics.
She probably also thinks my kind are fascinating lab rats.
I take a deep breath, trying to center myself the way my father taught me. The bear inside me is restless, agitated by my anger, and that is not a good combination.
I press the buzzer for apartment 3B.
"Yes?" A woman replies cautious.
"Dr. Baldwin? Detective Leo Byers, Metro PD. I've been assigned to your protective detail."
Silence. Then: "Come up."
The door buzzes, and I make my way to the third floor. My instincts are on high alert, scanning for threats out of habit. The building seems secure enough, but the locks are basic. Anyone determined could get in.
I knock on 3B, standing to the side out of ingrained caution.
The door opens, and I'm hit with a scent that nearly knocks me backward. Sweet honey and rain. I have to grip the doorframe to steady myself.
Omega.
Dr. Dahlia Baldwin isn't just any scientist. She's a shifter. An Omega.
And she reeks of another Alpha.
I can't help the low growl that escapes me, or the way my nostrils flare as I take in more of her scent, trying to identify the Alpha who's marked her.
"Detective?" Her voice breaks through my haze.
I focus on her face for the first time. She's beautiful. She has wide hazel eyes and full lips, and her light olive skin is glowing even under the harsh hallway lights. Her curly hair is pulled back in a bun, with a few strands escaping to frame her face.
I clear my throat. "Dr. Baldwin."
"Can I see some ID?" She's looking at me with suspicion, one hand still on the door like she might slam it in my face.
I pull out my badge and hold it up. "Detective Leo Byers, Shifter Crimes Division."
She studies it, then me, and her eyes linger on my face for a bit. "Fine. Come in."
I step inside, immediately scanning the apartment for exits, potential weapons, and vulnerabilities. It's neat but lived-in, with books stacked on every surface and a small collection of potted plants by the window. It smells like her but also like another Alpha.
My bear doesn't like that. At all.
"My life is drawing in too many shifters these days," she mutters, closing the door behind me.
I don't respond. I can't trust myself to speak without growling again. Instead, I position myself near the door, cross my arms, and watch as she moves around the apartment.
"We need to leave soon," I finally say, keeping my voice flat. "Mr. Blackthorn has arranged a safe house and lab facility for you."
She stops, turns to face me, and crosses her arms in a mirror of my stance. "And what if I don't want to go to Blackthorn's little hideaway?"
"It's not optional." I check my watch. "You have fifteen minutes to pack what you need. Clothes, toiletries, any personal research materials. Everything else can be replaced."
"Excuse me?" Her eyes flash with anger. "You can't just barge in here and order me around."
"I'm not ordering you around. I'm doing my job." I meet her glare with one of my own. "Someone broke into your lab, destroyed your research, and might be coming for you next. So yes, we're leaving in fifteen minutes."
She opens her mouth, likely to argue more, but something in my expression must convince her I'm serious. With a huff, she turns and stomps toward what I assume is her bedroom.
"Fucking shifters, thinking they can control everything," she grumbles, loud enough for me to hear. "First Onyx, then Evan, now this guy..."
Onyx. Evan. The names ping in my memory. Onyx Stonefang is an Alpha wolf, leader of one of the largest packs in the city. And Evan can only be Evan Blackthorn, the billionaire who's apparently now my boss.
Two Alphas, both circling around this Omega. Just what I need.
I hear drawers opening and closing, the sound of a suitcase being unzipped. At least she's cooperating, even if she's not happy about it.
I take the opportunity to check the apartment more thoroughly. The living room windows face the street which makes it a vulnerable spot. The kitchen on the other hand has a small window over the sink that leads to a fire escape and its potential exit route.
I'm checking the locks on the front door when she emerges from the bedroom with a small duffel bag in her hand.
"I'm ready," she announces, her chin lifted in defiance. "Though I still think this is ridiculous."
"Noted." I take the bag from her, ignoring the spark when our fingers brush. "My car's out front. Stay close to me."
She rolls her eyes but follows me out the door.
I position myself slightly in front of her as we walk down the hallway, my senses on high alert.
The bear inside me is protective now, despite my personal feelings about scientists.
She's an Omega. A rare, vulnerable shifter type that triggers every protective instinct I have.
Even if she does smell like other Alphas.
We make it to my car without incident. It's an unmarked police sedan. I open the passenger door for her, she hesitates, then slides in with a sigh.
“Real subtle ride, officer.”
“It gets the job done,” I mutter, shutting the door behind her. I round the hood and slip into the driver’s seat, still scanning the surroundings. Nothing seems out of place, but my instincts are still on edge.
"It's about a thirty-minute drive to the safe house. Try to relax."
"Relax?" She laughs with a sharp and humorless sound. "I'm being whisked away by a grumpy detective who clearly doesn't want to be here. What's not relaxing about that?"
I pull away from the curb, keeping one eye on the rearview mirror to check for tails. "I'm not grumpy."
"You've barely said ten words to me, and you growled when I opened the door." She turns in her seat to face me. "What's your problem with me, Detective? Did I step on your tail in a past life?"
I grip the steering wheel tighter. "I don't have a tail. I'm a bear, not a wolf."
"Oh, excuse me." Her voice drips with sarcasm. "Did I step on your paw, then?"
I don't answer, focusing on the road instead. The last thing I need is to get into it with her about why I distrust scientists. About Tessa. About how every time I look at a lab coat, I see my sister's face as she died, alone and in pain while doctors took notes.
"Silent treatment. Great." She sighs and turns to look out the window. "This is going to be so much fun."
We drive in silence for a few minutes. I can feel her watching me from the corner of her eye, studying me like I'm one of her specimens. It makes my skin itch.
"So," she finally says, apparently unable to handle the quiet, "how long have you been a detective?"
"Eight years."
"And before that?"
"Patrol officer."
She waits, but I don't elaborate. After a moment, she tries again. "Have you always worked with shifter crimes?"
"Yes."
"Because you're a shifter yourself?"
I flick my eyes to her briefly. "Yes."
"Are all bear shifters this chatty, or is it just you?"
Despite myself, I feel the corner of my mouth twitch. She's persistent, I'll give her that.
"Just me."
She throws up her hands. "He speaks in complete sentences! Alert the media!"
I keep my eyes on the road, but it's getting harder to maintain my stony facade. There's something about her that cuts through my defenses.
"I'm not much for small talk," I finally offer.
"Clearly." She shifts in her seat. "But since we're going to be stuck together for who knows how long, we might as well try to be civil."
"I am being civil."
"This is civil? What does unfriendly look like?"
I don't answer that. She doesn't want to know.
She sighs again, louder this time. "Fine. Be that way. I'm going to close my eyes for a bit. Wake me when we get to prison."
"It's not a prison," I say, but she's already leaning against the window, and closing her eyes.
"We're here."
I pull the car into the long driveway of the safe house.
It's a secluded property on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by thick woods and it's perfect for a shifter who might need to transform without prying eyes.
The house itself is modest but secure with reinforced windows, top-of-the-line security system, and enough distance from neighbors that screams won't be heard.
Not that I'm expecting screams. But in my line of work, you plan for the worst.
Dr. Baldwin doesn't respond. Her head is still resting against the window, and her eyes are closed. I turn off the engine and study her for a moment. Even in sleep, she looks tense. There's a slight furrow between her brows, and her breathing seems shallow.
"Dr. Baldwin," I say, reaching over to gently shake her shoulder. "We've arrived."
She doesn't stir. I frown and lean closer.
"Dahlia?"
The moment I get near her, I'm hit with her scent again but now it's hotter, more urgent. Literal heat is radiating off her skin.
I press the back of my hand to her forehead and nearly jerk away. She's burning up.
"Shit."
Her eyes flutter open, unfocused and glassy. "What's happening?"
"You're running a fever." I keep my voice calm despite the alarm bells going off in my head. "Can you walk?"
She nods weakly and tries to sit up straighter, but sways. I quickly exit the car and circle around to her side, opening her door and offering my arm.
"Lean on me," I say.
She doesn't argue, which tells me how bad she must be feeling. As she stands, her legs wobble, and I catch her around the waist. Her body is like a furnace against mine.
"Sorry," she mumbles, clutching my jacket. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
I do. I can smell it now, unmistakable and overwhelming. She's in heat.
My bear stirs, suddenly very awake and interested. I grit my teeth and force it down. This is not the time.
"Let's get you inside,"
I half-carry her to the front door, fumbling with the keys while trying to keep her upright. Her head lolls against my shoulder, and her breath comes in short pants that tickle my neck. Every exhale sends a jolt down my spine.
Focus, Byers. You're a professional.
I finally get the door open and guide her inside, kicking it closed behind us. The house is cool and dark, pre-stocked with basic supplies. I head straight for the master bedroom, the bear in me insisting she needs a safe, comfortable space.
"Almost there," I tell her as we make our way down the hallway. "Just a few more steps."
"Everything hurts," she whispers, and the pain in her voice cuts through me. "Why does it hurt?"
I don't answer. I'm trying so hard to maintain control. The scent of an Omega in heat is designed by nature to drive Alphas crazy, to trigger our most basic instincts. And right now, those instincts are screaming at me to claim her, mark her, and make her mine.
We reach the bedroom, and I guide her to the king-sized bed. She collapses onto it with a soft moan that sends another wave of heat through my body. I need to get away from her. Now.
"I'll get you some water," I say, already backing toward the door. "And something for the fever."
"Wait." Her hand shoots out and grabs mine, her grip surprisingly strong for someone who could barely walk a minute ago. "Don't leave me."
I almost drop her hand like it's burned me. Maybe it has. My skin tingles where she touches me, and the bear inside roars its approval.
"Please," she says, looking up at me with those hazel eyes, now dark with need. "Help me, make it stop."