HIS BABY TO BEAR - TWENTY ONE - FUR-FECT MATES - A SHAPESHIFTER SERIES

C H A P T E R T W E N T Y O N E

Jerome had never felt anxious before a mission before. After all, what was there to be concerned about? There were no other options; things would either go his way or they wouldn't. Stressing about it would only serve to distract him in advance, and he didn't have time for that. But this time, Jerome was a jumbled mess of nerves that couldn't be untied.

He shifted uncomfortably in the small red booth at the coffee shop where Ace had instructed him to meet. It was two minutes past the agreed-upon time, and Jerome was avoiding staring at the door by staring at a cup of coffee that seemed far too small next to his big, towering frame. Ace sat across from him, holding a matching cup.

When the man finally arrived, the temperature in the café seemed to drop a few degrees simply because he was there. He entered the house through the front door, cold and menacing as usual. Ace would have gotten a compliment if someone said he looked ruthless. When he was speaking with one of The Firm's top intel officers, Jerome was never sure whether he was drawing an ace or a joker from the deck.

"Have you come begging for help, Jerome?" Ace inquired casually as he slipped into the booth.

There were a lot of eyes on them now, but the majority of them belonged to young women staring at Ace. He was an inch taller and slimmer than Jerome, with a body more suited to a competitive swimmer than Jerome's linebacker form. One of the biggest assholes Jerome had ever known had cold green eyes, a perfectly chiseled chin, and a thin nose. Jerome had always thought Ace's nose could benefit from being broken a few times.

"Nice to see you, Ace," Jerome grumbled.

"Now that we've gotten past the chit-chat, what do you want?" Ace inquired, picking up a cup of coffee and taking a slow sip.

Jerome caught the tiniest smirk that escaped Ace's otherwise perfect expression. The man reminded him more of a machine, an emotionless robot than anything else. His jet-black hair was always neatly slicked back, and his clothes were always spotless. He always looked like he had just stepped off a magazine cover shoot, whether he was wearing a suit or jeans and a button-up like this time. That's all the more reason I can't stand him.

The fact that he was always the bearer of bad news did not help his popularity among the Shifter Squad squads.

"I need your assistance," Jerome admitted through gritted teeth, knowing that he would have to make that admission before Ace would even consider sharing any information. "I've got to find someone."

"Are those wolves harassing your child's mother?"

Ace asked casually, as if he were discussing yesterday's baseball scores.

Jerome leaned back against the booth's red leather, his brows knitted in perplexity.

What the fuck does he know?

"I know everything, Jerome," Ace stated flatly, his body language reading like a book.

Jerome's throat tightened, but he pressed it down, followed by a smirk from Ace. For as long as Jerome had been with The Firm, the tall intel officer had remained the same. He showed up at the worst possible time with the worst possible news, and he seemed to relish the opportunity to deliver it. Though he rarely showed any emotion other than that cold, sharp, knife-edge ability to read people, Jerome had always assumed that he took pleasure in being the bearer of bad news.

Nonetheless, he had to respect the man. He was extremely skilled at what he did, and the information Ace had passed along had saved his a$$ and the lives of his teammates on multiple occasions. They might have been friends in another life if he wasn't so easy to despise.

"Cut the nonsense, Ace. What do you think you know? ”

"What is the benefit to me?" he inquired, his elbows resting on the tabletop.

"I'm not going to smash your face in right now," Jerome growled, his hands naturally balling into fists.

"I don't think you fully grasp the concept of bartering." It's possible that just being here with you will get me fired. "Though intelligence officers are never fired, if you know what I mean," Ace said casually, his face expressionless.

Jerome was filled with rage. Reid Andrew was in the hands of who knows who right now, and Libby was in a state of denial, believing it was all her fault. It was up to Jerome to fix it, and instead of doing so, Ace gave him the runaround. It took everything he had not to jump over the table and choke the shit out of the steely intel officer.

"What exactly do you want?"

" he finally yelled through clenched teeth.

"I need a favor. I can do whatever I want whenever I want. "There were no questions," Ace stated flatly.

"And if I promise you that, will you get off your high horse and tell me what you know?"

"Yes," Ace replied, wryly smirking.

Jerome gave him a scowl, but he couldn't deny Ace that much. He was certain that the promise would come back to haunt him one day, but given the choice between his son's and his woman's lives and the future possibility of having to do something unsavory for Ace, he was willing to take the bullet.

"And if I promise you that, will you get off your high horse and tell me what you know?"

"Yes," Ace replied, wryly smirking.

"What are they after with Libby?" " Jerome inquired, taking it all in.

"They aren't interested in her. They were after her boss. Jonas Ramos was a biochemist who shifted. He was a werewolf, which he seemed to keep hidden from everyone who knew him. He was a businessman who supported a number of charities, mostly for inner-city children with the goal of improving their science education, but he also supported some shifter charities. Ramos was active in his field until his death, but he began to spiral after the death of his wife. The theory is that she died as a result of one of the viruses he was creating."

“Yeah? But what does that have to do with my child? ”

"No, it doesn't. "He's just a pawn," Ace said, flashing a row of predatory teeth. "After her death, Rachel Ramos was cremated." She was stuck in her werewolf form, three times her normal size, horribly mutated after being exposed to her husband's new virus, not because she wished it. I'm sure it was an accident, but word got out that Ramos was working on something that could turn a werewolf into a supershifter with three times the strength and power. That's when he became of interest to us."

"And the Arctics," Jerome realized.

“Yes. Jonas contacting us himself, looking for a safety net, was a dumb coincidence. Being a paranoid man, he wouldn't reveal the details of his virus, but we set him up with a safety button and the understanding that if he felt he was in danger, he could push it and one of our teams would arrive on the scene. He made it clear that he did not want to be saved, but he did want those closest to him to be protected in the aftermath.

"Ramos told us that the person who came to him when and if he was attacked would be the most valuable." After being attacked by The Arctics, he called your girl instead of calling an ambulance, which we believe he did for the same reason we would. They were curious to see who he would call. We went through his house, notes, and lab and couldn't find a single trace of the virus or how he'd created it."

"So you thought Libby had it or was aware of it?"

Some previously incomprehensible puzzle pieces were finally falling into place, and his heartbeat increased. Everything revolved around Libby. Worse, it seemed increasingly clear that they would have to use her as bait if they ever hoped to reclaim Reid Andrew.

"They haven't had the opportunity to question her. I believe they found her in Batangas, and after you appeared on the scene again—the guy who ruined their previous plan—they had to act quickly. That's why they became sloppy. They appear to be interested in her. Bad. And they're willing to go through you in order to obtain her."

Jerome dully nodded, his mind racing with ideas. He didn't like where all of this was leading, but with Ace's information in hand, he didn't have many options. Either kill or be killed.

"I think I can work with that," Jerome said as he rose to his feet.

I just want this fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fuck If I don't get Reid Andrew back soon, I might not be able to hold myself accountable for what I do to the next person who gets in my way.

"Thank you," he said hesitantly, offering Ace his hand.

Ace pressed his palm against Jerome's, and the two shook. Jerome noticed that Ace's skin, like the rest of him, was cold to the touch.

"You do realize I'm going to have to report you to The Firm, don't you?" "We can't have rogue operatives on our team," Ace said as they let go of each other's hands.

Jerome's numb rage threatened to spill over the edges now, and he could tell he had to be growling from the sneer that crossed Ace's lips.

"Of course you do," Jerome stated emphatically. "Would you give me twenty-four hours?" ”

"I'll give you a dozen."

Jerome resisted the urge to punch Ace's lights out and stormed out of the café, enraged. But at least he had something to look forward to now. They had twelve hours to devise a strategy, carry it out, and succeed. Alternatively, he may never see Reid Andrew again.

It is now time to lock and load.