Chapter One #3
“Shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair before turning back to her.
She was still standing there, rigid, though something sharp flashed behind her eyes.
“You made me lose my lead,” she bit out, stepping closer, her voice laced with barely restrained fury.
Arlo blinked. “Your lead?”
His gaze flicked down to the tactical vest snug over her frame, the holster strapped securely at her thigh. He knew authority when he saw it. Knew law enforcement when he saw it.
She was FBI.
Fucking perfect.
Arlo’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile, but wasn’t a snarl, either. “Didn’t realize the Bureau was so quick to claim credit for other people’s work,” he drawled. “Far as I see it, you just got in my way.”
Her jaw tightened, and she took another step forward, closing the space between them. “I got in your way?” she repeated, incredulous. “You’re the one who ran straight through my pursuit!”
Arlo let out a sharp laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Your pursuit? I was onto him first, sweetheart. You and your tactical team are the ones who stormed in like you own the place.”
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I do own the place as far as you’re concerned. You’re in my city.” She crossed her arms, tilting her chin up. “Who do you work for?”
Arlo just smirked, ignoring the way his shark was still circling beneath his skin, thoroughly relishing the argument they were having. “I could ask you the same thing.”
Her nostrils flared, and for a second, he could see the calculation behind her eyes, could practically hear the gears turning in that evidently sharp mind of hers.
Then, something shifted. Her shoulders relaxed a fraction, though her stance remained firm. “FBI,” she said simply, her tone clipped. “As you clearly already worked out. I’m special agent Violet Miller. Special operations.”
His smirk dropped.
So, she wasn’t just some field agent caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was obviously working the same trafficking case as Arlo and his team. But how much did she know? She’d said the word ‘mate,’ so she was obviously a shifter.
“Arlo Harrison,” he introduced, leaving out who he worked for. “So, what species are you?”
She opened her mouth to reply then closed it again as if reconsidering sharing the information.
As a shark shifter Arlo spent as much time as possible in the open water.
However, all his friends had either been mated to humans, or to a different species of shifter.
It wouldn’t have been the end of the world if her inner animal was a mammal, but he secretly hoped she would be some sort of fish, like him.
An image of them swimming in the ocean together in their shifted form flitted through his mind’s eye, but he shook the thought free.
The moment stretched out and both Arlo and his inner shark waited with bated breath. Finally, she heaved a sigh.
“Dolphin,” she disclosed.
Arlo arched a brow. So while she was a mammal of sorts, though she was one fully adapted to a life in the ocean.
“And you?” she asked.
Arlo’s grin returned tenfold. “Shark.”
Her gaze lowered to his mouth and Arlo didn’t miss the shiver that ran over her body.
“Of course you are,” she said dryly.
Arlo and his shark chuckled in unison.
For a moment, neither of them spoke and the silence crackled between them, as thick and charged as an oncoming storm. Her scent was still wreaking havoc on his senses, too damn potent. His shark was restless, pacing, testing the limits of his control.
Swim? His shark suggested hopefully. Claim mate?
Arlo ignored it and instead drank in every inch of his mate’s body.
She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. “If you’ve quite finished ogling me, you can answer my earlier question. Who do you work for?”
Arlo took a slow breath, shoving everything else aside—the bond, the maddening pull between them—and focused.
“CIA,” he said finally, nodding toward the alley. “Your guys are out there chasing a ghost, and so are my team. The suspect is long gone.”
She studied him, her expression unreadable, then exhaled sharply.
“Let’s get one thing straight.” She took one more step, getting toe-to-toe with him now, her voice dropping into something almost dangerous.
“I don’t trust you. You have no jurisdiction here or anywhere on U.S soil if I’m not mistaken.
You shouldn’t be here. So, why don’t you and your ‘team’ run along and let me do my job? ”
Arlo disguised a spluttered laugh as a clearing of his throat.
She fights! His shark said with relish.
Arlo’s lips twitched slightly.
Another beat of silence stretched between them before she rolled her shoulders back and took a step away, creating space. Space Arlo instantly hated.
“Well, see you around, Arlo Harrison,” she muttered before turning on her heel and heading for the alleyway.
“So, that’s it?” he called after her. “You’re just going to leave?”
She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “If you’re really CIA, I’m sure you can find me.”
Arlo’s mouth stretched into a shit-eating grin. Challenge accepted.