Night Shift by Nalini Singh

Author:Nalini Singh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2014-10-07T00:00:00+00:00

A group of us took the elevator down to SPI’s parking garage in silence. Moments later, a pair of steel doors slid apart in a whisper of air, opening into one of the city’s many abandoned subway tunnels. In this particular tunnel, the tracks had been removed, and the ground smoothed and paved into a parking garage. Beyond, what looked like a perfectly normal street—except it was more than five stories underground—stretched into the distance; I’d seen it once on my orientation tour of the complex.

A shadow suddenly loomed in—and over—my peripheral vision.

“This is Yasha Kazakov,” Ian said from beside me. “He’ll be our driver and backup.”

I turned in the direction Ian indicated, extended my hand, and froze.

Yasha Kazakov was a werewolf.

At least that was the aura my seer vision showed me.

Though, believe it or not, that wasn’t why I was staring. I’d seen werewolves before; I’d just never seen one carrying a massive .45 in a shoulder rig, and wearing fatigues and a T-shirt that read: “Don’t run, you’ll only die tired.”

And if that wasn’t enough—and it was plenty—he was big, somewhere between six foot seven and Sasquatch. His hair was brown trying real hard to be red. Add the werewolf aura my seer vision showed me, and Yasha Kazakov was well over seven foot tall.

“In a city where there are more supernatural perps than parking spaces, having a reliable drop-off and pick-up guy’s a must-have,” Ian told me. “And there’s no one better at turning a rampaging monster into a hood ornament.”

The Russian stuck out a paw that promptly engulfed mine. “I am Yasha.” His accent was almost as thick as his chest. His grip was human firm, not werewolf crushing. I was glad he’d learned to ease up before he got ahold of me.

“Makenna,” I managed, my voice sounding almost as small as I felt. “Call me Mac.”

The Russian gave a quick nod and a smile, and gave me my hand back with everything intact. “Mac.” He looked at Ian and the smile broadened into a grin on the verge of becoming a laugh. “Which den of sin do we visit first?”

“We’ll assume the leprechauns didn’t go back to the club they vanished from. Regardless, the first team will stake that one out.”

Yasha gave a single, booming laugh. “This time they can watch, yes?”

One of the elven agents gave Ian a wave as he, the second elf agent, and the human female agent who’d given Hand Crusher a hard time, got into one of the sedans.

“Mike, Steve, and Elana will be teaming with us,” Ian told me. “Mike knows our contacts in the clubs and can talk his way into or out of anything. Steve has enough mage skill to convince anyone that anything they saw has a perfectly normal—and non-supernatural—explanation. Comes in handy when things get too strange for civilians.”

“And Elana?” I asked.

“When there are dark alleys that need investigating, she goes in first.”

“Preternatural night vision?”

Ian shook his head. “Just mean.”

“And I am the extractor,” Yasha told me.

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