On the opposite side of the table, I pulled out a chair and waited for him to gulp the entire bottle of water. He could probably use some more, but I wanted answers first.
“What are you?”
Kael leaned back into his chair and folded his arms. The sweat-heavy shirt made his muscles look even more pronounced. “I told you, I work for the—”
I waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. The Supernatural Investigative and Tracing Organization.”
“It’s Paranormal Intelligence and Tracking Organization .”
“Whatever. That isn’t what I meant about what you are, anyway.” I narrowed my eyes. “You turned into a jaguar . How?”
Kael muttered something about humans, then said, “I’m a shifter. A jaguar shifter. Everyone who works for PITO is a shifter of some kind.”
Of some kind .
Implying what? That those who worked for this organization were capable of turning into some kind of animal, not just jaguars?
I shook my head to dislodge the thoughts screaming at the impossibility. “You were in the rainforest when I was there. When I found the key.”
If he had any surprise that I recognized him, he didn’t let it show. “I was. I’ve been assigned there for a few years now. And now, because of you , I have to be here .”
Slowly, I set my knife down. I left it sitting on the glossy surface of the table where Kael could plainly see the weapon. I sat against the back of the chair. “You tried to stop me from getting the key. Why did you want it?”
“I didn’t want it. I was protecting it.” He gripped the edge of the table with tight fingers. “Protecting it from people like you who want to take things that don’t belong to them and mess everything up.”
“You tried to kill me.”
Kael bared his teeth, a gesture that somehow seemed more unnerving now that I knew about the beast hiding beneath his skin. “I tried to stop you, not kill you. Your thievery cost my partner his life. You’re lucky I didn’t rip your throat out.”
Until that moment, I had forgotten about the other jaguar. He had been shot and killed by the guides.
“I’m sorry,” I said, a sick feeling pinching in my stomach as the weight of that reality crashed into me.
He sighed, the sound whispering from his bones. “What’s done is done. Not that it gives much comfort to his mate.”
Was he trying to make me feel worse? In an effort to move past the sudden, stabbing guilt, I asked, “So, did you find anything?”
“Not a trace. Which is unusual.”
“Sooo… What are we going to do?” We . Already I was referring to us as ‘we.’ I was a part of this now, though. I had to help get the key back.
Kael laid his forehead in his hand, massaging his temples with fingers and thumb. “I may know someone who can help us.” He lifted his head and fixed me with a calculating stare. “Are you certain you want to go?”
Did he expect me to hesitate after basically telling me I’d killed his friend and some woman’s husband? What was I supposed to say? ‘Your problem, not mine?’
“Yes,” I said, a familiar but different feeling bubbling up inside of me.
I knew some of this feeling was the excitement of adventure. I felt it before every dig. But this time, it was accompanied by fear. And not a fear of failure, but a fear for my life.
“Good.” Kael’s chair scraped across the floor as he stood. “Get some rest today and pack some things. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. We’ll leave this evening.”
He toed his boots off in the middle of my dining room floor and proceeded to make himself at home by flopping down on the couch in my living room.
I shoved away from the table. “Don’t you have somewhere else you can go until then?”
Kael cracked an eye open. “Not really. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on you.”
“I’m not going to leave.”
He attempted to mash one of the throw pillows into something comfortable to rest his head on. “I would notice if you tried.”
I didn’t like the way he looked at me just then, a mix of caution and determination on his face.
“Besides,” he continued, “normal humans can’t do the things you can. Until I figure out what you are, you’re stuck with me.”
His words were unsettling, but no more than the fact that I didn’t know what I was anymore, either.
“So, where are we going?” I asked.
“Pinnacle. It’s a nightclub.”
The name seemed vaguely familiar. Was that the club the cashier at the store had been rambling about?
I didn’t bother to pry for more information, though. I left the interloper taking up my couch and headed upstairs.
If I was going to leave on some mission to find an ancient, powerful being to recover a cursed key with the help of a cranky jaguar shifter, all while trying to figure out what was going on with my suddenly occurring magical powers, I had to prepare.
I opened the door to my study. Research was calling my name.
Chapter 11
Kael Rivera was in my kitchen, helping himself to the pasta I had intended on cooking for supper the evening before. The man had some nerve. I dropped my suitcase onto the wooden floor, and his attention snapped to me.
I propped my hand on a cocked hip. My messenger back was resting against the other, weighing down on my shoulder. “Are you eating my food?”
He grabbed the paper towel next to his mostly empty plate and wiped sauce from his mouth. A quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall to his left, and his gaze swept back to mine. “It’s nearly eight. Time to go.”
Most of my day had been spent in the study, rifling through every scrap of paper, books, and journals of notes I could get my hands on. My vision had gone bleary from staring at my computer screen. I’d taken a nap, had a shower, and packed. Kael never deigned to tell me exactly what I would need or where we would be going, so I had chosen a variety of clothing. I’d skipped lunch, too busy and too stressed to worry about food at the time.
And now he was lounging in my kitchen, eating my food, and acting as though I was the one holding things up .
I marched across the kitchen to the stove and lifted the lid on one of my pots. There was hardly a tablespoon of sauce left. “You ate all of it?”
As though not the least bit fazed by my annoyed scowl, Kael pushed back the chair and stood. He put his dirty dishes in the sink, at least.
“I’ll grab you something on the way,” he said.
I was about to tell him I was capable of buying my own dinner, but then again, he had eaten my food. A meal on him was definitely called for. “Fine. Whatever.”
The PITO agent quickly washed his dishes as I laced my boots and gathered my jacket.
Glancing down at my outfit, I added, “I’m not exactly dressed for a club.”
He stacked the washed dishes in the drying rack beside the sink. “Doesn’t matter. Come on.”
He headed out the back door as I hefted my suitcase, but I paused in the doorway. Turning, I peered at the kitchen and into the adjoining dining room. A prickling sensation ran over me. One I couldn’t put my finger on. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be seeing my home again for a very long time.