Buried and Shadowed (Branded Packs #3)

Ignoring his grumbling, Mira used his internet to connect to her private cloud. A few minutes later, she was pulling up the file she’d been searching for.

“This should get us past the front guard,” she said, turning the phone so he could see the I.D. badge that filled the screen. “And hopefully to Lowman’s room.”

He leaned forward, studying the officially CDC document with a furrowed brow.

“Who is Dr. Rachel Miller?” he demanded, reading the name listed beneath a picture of her.

“She’s me,” Mira said.

His gaze lifted to study her guarded expression. “I don’t understand.”

She cleared her throat, suddenly realizing that Sinclair wasn’t going to be happy when she confessed why she’d made the badge.

“When I was running searches through the CDC system, I occasionally needed a clearance beyond my pay grade so I invented a new employee who had the credentials to open the most sensitive files,” she said, keeping her voice light, as if it were a common habit to create imaginary employees. “Unfortunately, we both know any information related to the Verona Virus and the shifters’ blood that created the vaccine had already been purged from the archives.”

He stiffened, his nose flaring as he visibly struggled to maintain control of his temper.

“Christ, Mira,” he snarled. “You were supposed to be running background searches on any connection between the SAU and the Verona Clinic. I had no idea you were taking risks that could have gotten you thrown in jail.” His eyes glowed with the power of his inner animal. “Or dead.”

She was instantly on the defensive. “You asked for my help.”

His growl rumbled through the truck, making the seats vibrate.

“When this is all over, I’m locking you in my lair,” he snapped. “I don’t care how much you bitch.”

She ignored his threat. They both knew he wasn’t going to lock her away. Although, she wouldn’t entirely mind spending some quality time alone with the male…

Giving a sharp shake of her head, Mira forced herself to focus on a plan.

Unlike Sinclair, she didn’t have fangs and claws that could rip a man in half. She needed her brainpower if she was going to get them to Dr. Lowman’s room.

“I can use this ID to get us inside without setting off any alarms,” she assured her companion.

His jaw tightened. He clearly wanted to tell her no. It was etched on his face and showed in the tension of his lean body.

Thankfully, he was still capable of realizing that she was offering the best chance of them accomplishing their goal.

“Shit,” he said in resignation.

Releasing a silent sigh of relief, she reached out to lightly touch his arm. She wanted him to know that she appreciated his faith in her.

“I need something to wear,” she told him, knowing he needed to channel his frustration into some sort of physical action.

He sucked in a slow, deep breath, clearly hanging on to his temper by a thread.

“What?”

She glanced toward the building. This was a place that would put a high value on privacy. She would have to come in with the big guns if she intended to get past the front door.

“A nice pantsuit or a dress,” she said. “Oh. And a lab coat if you can find one.”

Without warning, he leaned across the seat to press an aggravated kiss against her parted lips.

“Don’t. Move,” he commanded.





Chapter 10


It took Sinclair less than half an hour to return with a black pantsuit that hugged her curvaceous body to perfection, along with a lab coat that hit her mid-thigh and a pair of sensible heels.

She didn’t ask where he’d found them. Or how he’d known her precise sizes, she simply wiggled out of her sweats and into the new clothing.

Then, slipping on her lab coat, she led Sinclair across the parking lot and into the front foyer of the building. Behind her, she could feel the pulse of Sinclair’s power beating against her back. It never failed to amaze her that he could pass as human. She’d only been in his company for a few minutes when she’d suspected that he was something more.

“Let me talk,” she said, touching her braid to make sure the stiff breeze hadn’t allowed any curls to escape.

His fingers brushed down her back, as much a warning as a gesture of comfort.

“First sign of trouble and we’re out of here,” he warned in a low voice. “Got it?”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Yeah, I got it.”

Entering the small foyer, Mira blinked. White walls, white tile, and a chrome desk where a uniformed guard was seated.

It was blinding.

Moving forward, she pretended to ignore the guard until he scrambled from the desk to stand directly in her path.

“If you’re here to visit a patient, you need to make an appointment,” the man said, puffing out his chest as if to draw attention to the shiny badge on his shirt pocket. “No one is allowed in without a doctor’s approval.”