Buried and Shadowed (Branded Packs #3)

“There’s no sign that she was forced to leave,” he said.

“No,” Donaldson agreed, slamming the window shut. “I would say Mira Reese has been playing us for fools. She’s obviously working with the shifters. They wanted the use of our computers, so she let herself be taken.” He paced to the center of the over-priced, hand-woven rug. “Which means she got what she wanted and called in one of the animals to get her out.”

Markham scowled. How could anyone choose one of those freaks over her own people? He’d heard that some humans even took the animals as lovers.

Sick.

Of course, if she did have a lover…

Markham abruptly reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, tapping the password onto the screen.

“I never did trust her,” he said.

Donaldson pivoted on his heel, his lips twisted in a humorless smile.

“That’s not what you were saying less than an hour ago.”

Markham held up his phone. “Do you need proof?”

Donaldson folded his arms over his chest. “Astonish me with your brilliance.”

Markham once again thought longingly of his Glock. At the Division headquarters, he was treated with respect that bordered on reverence. His companion, however, was roughly on the same level as he was when it came to the SAU hierarchy. Which meant Markham couldn’t demand the deference he so richly deserved.

Dammit.

“After we brought the woman here, I called a security team in Fort Collins to install a camera in case someone decided to come searching for her,” he said, thoroughly enjoying Donaldson’s brief spurt of annoyance before he was smoothing his expression.

“Can you access the tapes?”

“Of course.” With a few taps on the screen, Markham was rewinding the images. “Your technology might be easily compromised, but mine is far more dependable.”

Donaldson said a foul curse. “Jesus, you’re annoying.”

Markham didn’t bother to hide his satisfied smile, quickly skimming until he was at the beginning of the tape. The camera had been hidden in a tree in the front yard, giving a perfect view of the house, along with the driveway.

He paused as a woman appeared from the brick house next door, holding a cat.

“The neighbor,” he said as the woman used a key to enter the house and then left ten minutes later.

“Doubtful that she’s the animal that helped Mira escape from here,” Donaldson said.

Markham agreed. A woman didn’t risk her life for a neighbor, no matter how friendly they might be.

She did it for someone who satisfied her in bed.

He fast-forwarded, abruptly slowing the images as a truck pulled into the driveway, and an unknown man climbed out.

“There.”

“Damn, we can’t see his face,” Donaldson said. “Can you zoom in on the license plate?”

Markham scowled, oddly convinced that there was something familiar about the set of the man’s shoulders, and the way he moved. But unless he turned, it would be impossible for him to place whom it might be.

Dismissing the odd sensation that he might be acquainted with the stranger, he halted the video. Then, sweeping his finger over the screen, he managed to enlarge the image.

“Got it. I’ll send this to my division.” Taking a screenshot of the license plate, he quickly had it emailed to his head of security. “They can start a search for the truck as well as contact the cops to put out a BOLO.”

Once again put in the position of follower, not leader, Donaldson squared his shoulders.

“Okay.” His expression was condescending. “It’s a decent backup plan if my men don’t find her first.”

Markham released a sharp laugh. “Accept defeat, Donaldson,” he urged the older man. “You and your soldiers let the woman slip from beneath your noses. Now it will be up to me to save your ass.” He pocketed his phone, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s hope Colonel Ranney doesn’t learn of your slip-up before we can get her back.”

Donaldson jerked at the unmistakable warning. No one wanted to be on the wrong side of the SAU’s founder. Not unless they wanted to end up in an unmarked grave.

“Bastard,” the military man hissed.

****

Mira was doing her best to ignore Sinclair’s brooding gaze. This wasn’t the first time they’d been in a small motel room together.

This wasn’t even the worst motel room. In an effort to avoid detection, Sinclair had often set up meetings in places that were barely fit for bedbugs. This room was at least clean with comfortable furniture.

Including a soft, inviting bed.

She gave a sharp shake of her head. Nothing has changed, she fiercely reminded herself.

Okay, Sinclair had actually gone to the effort of tracking her down. And he’d been possessively protective as he’d carried her away from the air base.

But she would be a fool to let herself think this was anything more than a desire to guard a valuable asset.

“So now you understand why I need to get to the Great Plains Home of Tranquility.”

His expression was guarded. “I understand that someone needs to go. But not you.”