Heart and Soul by Jackie May (interesting novels to read txt) 📕

the Agency was being called in to end it. When he put up a fight, we had no other choice, but Madison sure as hell did. She could have defended him, protected him. Hell, I half expected her to join him. The thing they had, nobody would have blamed her.

“But she didn’t. When it came down to it…she did it herself. I was there. I would have done it, but she wouldn’t let me. This was her thing to do. And she didn’t look away, Shayne. She looked him right in the eyes when she did it.” His gaze pierces mine, as if in demonstration. “Could you make that choice?”

Fear robs me of the bravado to lie. Some things simply cannot be faked. The best I can do is try to sound defiant when I croak, “I’ve already shown that I won’t.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he says, surprisingly with no hint of gloating.

Encouraged by the apparent moment of truce, I say, “Just one more thing, Gorgeous. Tell me what Agent Hillerman said? Brenner is what?”

“She said…” Nick sighs, reluctant to share. “She said, ‘Brenner’s just the sort of human we need right now.’”

Involuntarily, my hands clasp together. “She said that?”

“Then she asks me, she says, ‘When’s the last time you heard of a human who knew about the underworld, but didn’t absolutely despise it?’”

I lean in, not even caring how obvious it is that I’m desperate for his approval. “I know, right? And? When was the last time?”

Again, he sighs. “There isn’t one, because I’ve never heard of it.” He raises a warning finger. “But the jury’s still out on Brenner, far as I’m concerned. Just because he loves you don’t mean he loves the underworld.”

My breath hitches. “You think he loves me?”

He mutters, “Oh, hell no,” as he strides away.

I would have followed after him, but in that moment the door to Madison West’s office opens. She walks out, followed by vampire Parker Reed, her deputy director. When they both step aside, all eyes in the office are drawn to an impressive man in the doorway. He’s tall, lean, and impeccably groomed, not one styled hair out of place, not one imperfect line shaping his smooth beard. His mouth is open just enough to feature the two sharpened points of fangs. For a master vampire, his look is incredibly modern, with a fluffy fur coat over a T-shirt, gold chains, and track pants—all straight out of a hip-hop music video celebrating the billionaire thug life.

All of the dejected vamps in the office suddenly perk up when this guy appears. The loud chaos settles into a low buzz of anticipation. I join Ren and Darla behind their desks, where we can ogle inconspicuously. “Who’s he?”

“Theo Coltrane,” Darla says between heavy breaths. She tongues popcorn out of her hand while raking her eyes up and down his body.

“He’s the master of Cleveland,” Ren adds with a rapturous sigh as he too digs into Darla’s popcorn tub. “Come to take in these strays.”

“What, he just gets to claim all of Henry’s leftovers? Does that mean Detroit’s now his territory? What if he’s as bad as Henry?”

“Would you rather have the Windsor clan up in here?”

I shudder. “Good point. I just wish we didn’t need a Detroit master at all.”

“Theo Coltrane can be the master of the chains, whips, and handcuffs in my bedroom,” Darby says, chomping vigorously.

“I feel a blood donation coming on,” Ren volleys. And back and forth they go, whispering naughty nothings, reaching again and again for more popcorn. But when I try to reach in, Darla slaps my hand away without even looking.

“Dancing in the sheets,” she says, not missing a beat.

“Do the monster mash.”

“Give a dog a bone.”

“Press my upvote button.”

“Shaboink-boink!”

“Rumpy-pumpy!” That last one was a little too excited. Theo Coltrane glances over at us. We duck down behind the computer monitors. Thankfully, the vamp I brought in overtakes his attention. He approaches the Cleveland master with quivering, begging hands, practically on bended knee. “Master,” he whines. “Please.”

I’m surprised to see on Theo’s face an emotion I thought impossible for a vampire: compassion. Raising the vamp to his full height, Theo gently places a hand on his cheek and whispers a few choice words into his ear. Immediately, the vamp is soothed, as though a healing elixir has just coursed through his undead veins. His face relaxes into a blissful smile.

Behind them, Parker Reed makes a discreet check of his wrist watch. The sun will be up in minutes. That gives me an idea.

“You guys are so immature,” I hiss to Ren and Darla. “Imagine how embarrassed you’ll be if your lover boy comes over here and sees this mess.”

With a full mouth, Darla mumbles, “What mess?”

I swat the popcorn tub out of her hands and run away.

Thanks to the truck’s fussy starter, I barely beat Deputy Director Reed to his home under the Ambassador Bridge. I’ve pulled off to the side of the road, just shy of the magical ward that looks like a gate to human eyes, when Reed’s shiny black Mercedes rolls up beside me. I’d love to talk at him through our open windows, but that feels too casual for a distinguished gentleman like Reed. He’s the formal, classy type I would delight in mocking, if not for one thing: he treats me as an equal, even though there is nothing equal about a powerful vampire and a fox shifter. I like him.

So I return that respect by braving the ass-whipping cold to stand outside his window.

“Agent Davies, good morning,” he says, his voice polite but quiet. “You’ll catch your death out here. Won’t you come in?”

Shocked, I glance at the thick concrete walls beneath the Ambassador Bridge. Nora Jacobs lives down there with all her men. Terrance Balfrey, my old boss from club Underworld, owns the place, but he let Nora and her harem move in so they could all be together. It’s the most elite of inner sanctums in