Relentless (Silver Bullet Security #1)

1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Abby

Seattle was on my bucket list. See the world from the Space Needle. Wander Pike Place Market on a rainy day.

Dry heaving on the side of I-5 as the nerves crashing around my stomach finally got the better of me wasn’t in that daydream, but I hadn’t specifically excluded it as a possibility, either.

So far, I hadn’t even spotted the Space Needle on the horizon. I was too focused on getting to my destination on time. Sweat pooled on my palms, making it hard to keep hold of the steering wheel as stand still traffic suddenly became a NASCAR race. Hopefully, my armpits weren’t doing the same. I was wearing deodorant, but it was written into my contract that it had to be unscented, just like my soap, shampoo, and any other personal products I used.

Either way, my new boss was going to know I had sweaty pits.

He won’t care about the way you smell. Relax.

Oh, he would care. That was written into the contract, too. They were going to smell me. Not just the boss. All the employees at the firm were going to smell me.

What the hell am I getting myself into?

I flexed my quaking hands, reminding myself to breathe. This was an adventure. I wanted to travel during my college days but never had the money. Now I’d driven solo through at least five states. I saw a teddy bear museum. A giant rock balancing on another rock. Cows. So many freaking cows.

What a rush.

For the nine hundredth time, I felt the urge to ugly cry. Just pull the car over, crank the radio up, and scream out the emotions that were nearly choking me to death. I denied those urges, clenching my teeth and reminding myself why I was here.

This is my fresh start.

I was in a new city with nowhere to live, I didn’t know anyone, and I was about to start my first day at the scariest job I’d ever done. It took guts to get here. To even apply for this job.

It also took three days of driving and the last few dollars in my bank account. There was no going back.

I finally made my exit into an indistinct business park. Grey building after grey building blurred by my window. My foot stalled on the accelerator as I came around the corner to a sudden shift in color. The streets were lined with decorative maples, their red leaves showy against the dull backdrop. Behind them stood a shimmering three story building, more windows than walls.

Evergreens towered over the building, shading the roof, and contrasting beautifully with the dark sky. I’d never seen trees that big, and here they were in the middle of the city.

This was it. I made it.

When I finally found a street parking spot I could pull into without hitting the bumper of a very nice car, I barely had fifteen minutes to spare. My flats skidded across the pavement as I hurried to the double doors. Thank God this job didn’t require heels in the dress code.

I straightened my blazer, hoping it didn’t look as cheap as it was. My budget for business clothes—after someone tossed mine out a window and shredded the rest—was pennies. Most of what I was wearing came from a resale shop.

A beefy man in a suit approached me as I entered through the heavy glass doors, waving me over to a high-tech metal detector that would put the TSA to shame. He had me walk through twice, then directed me to a reception desk.

The desk appeared to be solid wood, a rich cherry color that matched the dark reds and blacks of the reception area. The floor to ceiling windows were abundant here too, letting the dim afternoon light pour across the marble floors.

Though he had the demeanor of a marine, and the physique to match, the man behind the desk was friendly as he requested my name and date of birth.

“Nick Nguyen.” He held a thick hand out to shake mine. “Mister Griffin tells me you’re going to be a regular around here.”

“Unless I get eaten on my first day.” I laughed nervously, realizing too late that Mister Nguyen could be a shifter too.

Mister Nguyen echoed my laugh, genuinely, and I exhaled a silent breath. “The last three made it out alive, but they didn’t stay through the first week. If you can make it that long, you’ll be fine.”

“The last three?”

“Assistants at Silver Bullet. They didn’t tell you?”

They told me good help was in short supply, not that they’d sent the help running. “Tell me what?”

Mister Nguyen schooled his face, taking on a more professional tone. “Silver Bullet is a very particular kind of work environment.”

Those weren’t the exact words my new boss used, but I had been informed that this job could be “unconventional.” That working with shifters would be exciting and also a little jarring for a human. He told me there would be times that what we were doing didn’t seem to align with security work and that if I was willing to commit to it, I would be immersed in a culture most humans had no chance of seeing up close.

I asked him how soon he needed me to start.

I don’t know why I asked him that. It was a three-day drive—if I really pushed myself to the limits—and I had no clue how to behave while immersed in shifter culture. Three months ago, I was the type of person that never changed her takeout order even though the restaurant had an amazing menu because, “What if I don’t like something new?”

And what if my husband was spending his once-a-month business trips trolling for something new while I bit my nails over a cheeseburger versus chicken Caesar salad?

And what if the whole reason I didn’t eat the damn cheeseburger wasn’t even my fear of not liking something new? What if it was my fear of what he would think if I wanted to try something new?

To be bold.

To make a choice for myself.

Well, here I was, making a choice for myself.

I rolled my shoulders back with feigned confidence. “I’ve dealt with shifters before. Have a nice day, Mister Nguyen.”

I punched in the six-digit code Mister Nguyen provided for the elevator, forcing myself to inhale deeply to calm my heart rate. When the doors dinged open to the third floor, I stepped out with a slow, confident pace, though I was pretty sure I only had two minutes left before I was officially late.

Power walking would only add to the frantic nervousness I was putting off. Showing up fretting and shaky wasn’t a good look when you were about to take a job in an office full of elite killers.

Okay, they weren’t killers, necessarily, but when I heard Shifter Special Ops, it didn’t scream pacifist.

My new boss, Levi, didn’t give off military vibes, though. Lighthearted, easy to talk to. He was obviously not someone that buckled under pressure, which meant he was also not the kind of boss to yell at you when he was having a bad day. The last office where I was an assistant was home to the world’s meanest battleaxe. Anything would be better than that.

Despite the abundance of windows, the exterior of the building made it seem dark, as if the windows were almost swallowing the light instead of welcoming it in. That must have been some kind of protective tinting, extra privacy for the high paying clientele that came for the services here.

The lobby of the building was more luxurious than most offices, but it wasn’t that different. Security at the front desk, uncomfortable chairs, generic modern art on the walls, that single customary fake plant.

The same could not be said for the Silver Bullet Security offices when I punched in a second security code and heaved the thick door open.

The first thing I noticed was the plants. Not lackluster plastic but real, living plants. They lined the massive glass window on one side of the office, reaching leafy green hands around the plush chairs in the reception area. More were stacked around the empty reception desk. I smiled at a cute fern-looking one in a pot shaped like a bear.

It made sense that they would want a lot of nature around them. The animal in them would like that, probably.

More than the plants, the light coming through the windows was perfect. There was no feeling of being imprisoned in some fluorescent-lit hellscape. Autumn sunshine poured across the carpet, seeming brighter than it had outside. The cedars that surrounded the building only added to the refreshing beauty, almost tricking me into believing we were in the middle of a forest somewhere and not minutes away from downtown Seattle.

“Abby?” I jumped at the sound of my voice, glancing up—and then up and up because damn, he was tall—and gulping at the sight of my new boss.

Levi agreed to interview me on a video call three weeks earlier. Even on the grainy screen I’d seen his dimple, winning smile, and baby blue eyes and known he was a man that got a lot of attention. Now I was adding up his above average stature, muscular build, and clean-shaven jaw and realizing that not staring at him might be the hardest part of the job.

Except he was my boss, and I wanted to make a good impression and now he was holding a hand out for me to shake and I was staring at it like a drooling idiot.

Sink or swim, Abby.

I quickly grabbed his hand and shook. Levi gave me a friendly smile and said, “Nice to finally meet you in person. Looks like you made it in one piece. Are you excited for your first day?”

“Thrilled!” I squeaked. Before now, it was easy to shrug off the idea of working for one of them . He was polite, good-looking, and proud of the work he did. How could Levi seem anything but human to me?

The answer wasn’t immediately obvious. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, or a gleam in his eye that whispered “predator.” An aura to his presence that just didn’t feel normal .

Shifters had been integrated into our society for as long as I’d been alive. Mostly, they kept to themselves. Governed themselves within United States law—with a few congressionally approved exceptions. To my knowledge, I’d never met one.

Well, I’d never met one until my husband came home from a business trip with a bite mark and a shifter babe on his arm.

Rumor was that their populations were shrinking. Living amongst humans in major cities instead of in small, secretive communities like they used to meant they were having fewer children. Supposedly, shifters could only have shifter children with another of their kind, or if they found a mate.

Mate . What a load of bullshit. It was the shifter homewrecker’s version of “soul mates.” An excuse to justify selfish behavior.

Not sounding bitter at all there, Abby.

Really, I just couldn’t believe you would walk up to some stranger and instantly know they were the right one for you. Abby six months ago believed in soul mates and happily ever after. Present day Abby was justifiably cynical.

I forced my attention back to Levi, making mental notes as he showed me the layout of the office and explained each area. There was an oval reception desk at the front. That would be my place of honor if this final step went right, and I didn’t blow it by worrying about whether my new boss could smell my pits.

The door to the left of it was a client meeting room, specially fitted with soundproofed walls and tinted windows. To the right of the desk was the office for the cybersecurity guy. He and I would work closely together, as part of my job would be compiling and organizing the information he found during his investigations.

In addition to providing private security, Silver Bullet also offered private investigative services. Cybersecurity guy was a private investigator on top of being a computer genius.

I hadn’t met him during my three-part video interview, but he ran my background check, so it was almost like we knew each other. I’d been told he was very thorough. Thankfully, he had to sign legal documents guaranteeing confidentiality of any sensitive information. How many details about my divorce were considered sensitive?

“Gage has a cool job title, and I think that gets to his head sometimes. Don’t let his ego crush you when you meet him.”

I raised my eyebrows, surprised by his levity. Levi had explained that all the employees at Silver Bullet were old friends, members of the same specialized military unit years ago. Still, I hadn’t expected him to be so casual. When I applied for a job at a security firm, I imagined a bunch of grumpy ex-military dudes that couldn’t remember what a smile was.

“It’s okay.” Levi paused at the entrance to a long hallway beyond the reception area, gesturing for me to go first. “He’s my little brother. Being a dick to him is my personal responsibility.”

I laughed, feeling some of my nerves melt away.

It wasn’t just that I was a thousand miles from everyone I knew, or that my new boss was a shifter, or that I needed this job like a life raft in a storm. Working reception at a marketing firm was easy. The clients were important but not need-a-bodyguard important. I was terrified I would show up to this high-stakes job as a recently divorced loser with nothing but a collection of fuzzy socks to her name and absolutely drown.

But the moment that laugh left my lips—the first real laugh since the divorce, probably—I knew I was going to be just fine.

I was a strong swimmer, after all.