Page 58 of Covert Affections (Shadow Agents/PSI-Ops #5)

Chapter Forty-Four

Jesse

The scent of death hit Jesse before he reached the crime scene. Even through the heavy rain, the stench of blood mixed with hybrid rot was unmistakable. Not even the hard-driving rain could wash it away. It filled his senses, coating the back of his throat.

White pop-up canopy coverings dotted the area.

Portable floodlights cast harsh shadows through the trees while bathing the shallow graves in unnatural light.

The hum of generators mixed with the steady stream of rain.

Crime scene technicians in white Tyvek suits moved methodically through the scene, placing numbered markers and taking photographs.

From the looks of it, they’d already processed three of the grave areas fully.

They had more to go.

Blue tarps had been set up over key areas to protect evidence from the elements. The ground was wet beneath their feet, and Jesse had to wonder how much evidence the storms were washing away.

Not that it would matter.

When The Corporation learned this had been discovered and that shifters were suspected, they’d swoop in with a cleanup team, making evidence vanish and inventing cover stories everyone would be spoon-fed.

Medical examiner reports would be altered, saying whatever it was that The Corporation needed them to say in order to sell their tale.

They’d find a scapegoat, such as a pack of wolves or wild coyotes, and blame them.

They’d bring in professional hunters who would hunt and eliminate the threat to the public.

Innocent animals would lose their lives while The Corporation’s fuck-ups—the hybrids—continued the reign of terror somewhere else.

If the hybrids had already told The Corporation about Jesse’s betrayal, there was a high likelihood his employers would try to find a way to pin it all on him.

To make him look as if he were the reason all these innocent women were dead.

That or he’d be found in the next shallow grave law enforcement uncovered.

Such was the way of things.

He’d known for a long time the only way out of The Corporation was feet first. He was one of their puppets and deserved whatever fate had in store for him.

His dreams came flooding back to him, bringing with them the memories of being with Samuel when he was young and of standing over their mother’s deathbed.

Of Samuel talking to him about being a Shadow Agent—a covert division of PSI filled with solo operatives and small teams who reported to handlers.

Their missions were top secret and often off-book.

Did Jesse dare to hope his dream was true? That he wasn’t an evil fucktwat? That he was on some kind of extended undercover mission?

It had been way longer than the year the vampire from his dream spoke of. Why didn’t he remember everything fully if it was true?

Flashes from his dreams came at him faster.

They have to want to remember , the vampire had stressed.

Holy fucking hell. Did that mean Jesse was to blame for not remembering his past if the dreams were even true? Did he not want to remember? Was he blocking himself from it all for some reason?

He thought back to the lab incident. To the last time that he’d spoken to Samuel, Benat, or Nick. Benat had said Jesse was never going to break through the mental barrier—that he didn’t want it bad enough.

If it was true and he was a Shadow Agent, why had no one from the organization come for him in all these years? Why had they left him there on his own? He’d been tortured and forced to do unspeakable things. PSI was nowhere to be found.

Had they abandoned him?

Were his dreams warning him of what had really happened? Had he turned into the same monster as the man who fathered him?

If so, what did that mean for Lindy? Jesse had sealed the deal, tying her to him for the rest of their days.

He’d done it without thinking of the repercussions.

Of what The Corporation would do to her if they found out she was his mate.

If they knew the truth, which he had to assume they did, that he’d taken a stand against the hybrids in front of Charley’s rescue, they’d send a strike team for him.

Lindy would be collateral damage, or worse—taken and tortured for daring to be his.

He growled loudly, the sound echoing through the woods despite the storm.

Two deputies stood near the outer perimeter, their cruisers’ red and blue lights cutting through the darkness as they kept watch. The flashing colors painted their raincoats in alternating hues, casting long shadows on the muddy ground. They jerked around quickly, both facing Jesse’s direction.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell was that?" one of them asked. His hand instinctively moved to his holster, fingers trembling slightly.

"Did you see that?" The other deputy's flashlight beam jerked toward the tree line, where Jesse was crouched in cat form. The light cut through the sheets of rain and darkness, to the undergrowth where Jesse was watching from.

"See what?" The first deputy asked, squinting in Jesse’s direction as rain pelted him in the face—the wind rendering his wide-brimmed hat useless against the onslaught of weather.

"There! By the tree line… looks like a mountain lion,” said the other, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It made that noise.”

“That sounded like a massive animal. Bigger than a mountain lion even,” said the first deputy, taking a step closer, his boots sinking into the muddy ground.

The other rushed to his cruiser and returned with a shotgun. “I know what I saw. You think it might be what tore the women apart?”

Jesse's muscles bunched, ready to retreat, when Robert burst through the rows of vehicles and hurried toward the deputies. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“Lieutenant,” said the man with the shotgun, water streaming down his face, his eyes wide, almost crazed. “I saw a huge mountain lion. It’s in the tree line. I think it’s coming back for its kills.”

Robert shook his head. “And you think a mountain lion would dig graves for each woman at the same depth and bury them?”

The other deputy lowered his gaze. “No, sir.”

The one with the shotgun waited for Robert to turn away partially and then aimed the weapon toward the tree line—toward Jesse. “I know what I saw, and I’m not letting the fucking animal kill anyone else.”

The shotgun blast rang out just as Robert shoved the barrel skyward, trying to make the shot go wide.

Pain exploded through Jesse's hindquarters as buckshot tore into him.

He launched himself into the underbrush before tumbling over the edge of a ravine.

The tumble added to his pain. He blacked out before he hit the bottom.