Body Master (6 page)

Seneca stewed as they exited yet another bar without a lead. So much for her being in charge. It took all of fifteen minutes for that to change. Shifters.
Can’t trust ’em, can’t kill ’em—at least not tonight.

No bar owners had seen Dillinger’s human form in the photos or admitted to it. She told them to call her if he showed up. Her guess would be they’d give him money in hopes he’d leave. You got a lot of respect in this town for killing six people. Now if she could
tell
them that the guy could morph into a murdering monster, she’d bet they’d call in a heartbeat. But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

It was 3:00 A.M., and she was cold and sick of sucking smoke into her lungs. Seneca drew in a deep breath and let the frigid blast shock her brain to attention. Despite a few hours of precious sleep, she wasn’t one hundred percent and she knew it. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing that they had no leads. All that could change, though, because they were headed to the pier along Battery Park for her meeting with her best informant.

She noted that Dempsey had taken “cordial” to a whole new silent level, which was fine with her. If he was waiting for an apology, he’d wait for hell to freeze over. It wasn’t right that his people invade her planet.

She knew that too. The official word was that his race was being exterminated and a shipload of Shifters had escaped. They’d crashed here, and their ship had exploded. Unfortunately, a few thousand had managed to escape, giving the term “illegal aliens” a whole new meaning. Even with a swift military response to the crash, the aliens had scattered to parts unknown, picking up the culture and figuring out how to replace humans with surprising ease and skill. Most had been deemed harmless, at least by intelligence. However, she trusted her government intelligence about as much as she trusted Dempsey.

By the time they reached the park, her toes were numb in her boots. Bursts of vapor accompanied every breath. She looked over the calm water at the Statue of Liberty, standing proud and resolute.

Seneca huffed and wondered if Lady Liberty ever got tired of holding that big-ass torch.

Dempsey looked around. “We’re early?”

It was the longest sentence he’d spoken to her since Dave’s.

“A bit. Bart’s like a ghost,” she told him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s one of you.”

“How do you know he’s not?”

Seneca stilled, aware of Dempsey’s gaze on her and his curiosity. Damn, she needed to be more careful. “He doesn’t like Shifters.”

“Then how does he get all his information?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t ask. All I know is that it’s always good.”

A couple walked past them, and Seneca caught the shadow. One of them was a Shifter, the other a human. It took every ounce of her control to not let on in front of Dempsey.

A Shifter and a human. Just something else to worry about. Offspring. It was only a matter of time. It hadn’t happened yet, as far as she knew, but it wasn’t too much of a stretch. She glanced at Dempsey’s broad shoulders, rugged face, and quiet intensity. If he were a human, she might be more than a little interested. He wasn’t, and she knew it. But she was sure he’d met women who didn’t know what he was.

“Has your species ever tried to procreate with another?” she asked, surprising herself with the bluntness of her question. Must be the lack of sleep.

Dempsey’s eyes moved to hers, and she caught the iridescent glow as he turned all that intensity on her. “A little early to bring up the question of sex, partner. I figured you’d last until at least the second night.”

Crap. She should have kept her mouth shut. “I assume if you have human DNA that you also have human parts, Dempsey.”

He grinned suddenly, and she forgot the rest of her question for a moment until her teeth started chattering. “Forget it,” she said and shivered. “Obviously, men are men regardless of what planet they come from.”

“That is something I’ve noticed,” he said and moved next to her to block the brunt of the breeze coming off the water. She sidestepped to get back into it.

“And to answer your question,” he said, a smirk curling the corner of his mouth. “Yes. But every species is different. Yours doesn’t appear to be compatible enough to bear children.”

There was a God after all. If Shifters couldn’t procreate, maybe they’d all die off in fifty or sixty years. Or maybe they were like vampires and lived forever. Or worse, like cockroaches that could survive a nuclear war. They could be here forever.

Dempsey continued, “Now sex is another story. Personally, I’ve never had any complaints.”

She murmured, “Spare me the details.” But the visual had already formed and everything.

Dempsey grinned and wisely ended discussion on the topic. The wind picked up, and Seneca ducked her head lower in her coat collar. She covertly watched Dempsey’s profile as he scouted the park. He wasn’t at all what she expected. She expected arrogant. Well, he was that. And cold-blooded, which he might be since the frigid weather didn’t seem to affect him. And uncivilized, which he definitely wasn’t.

In fact, he seemed intelligent, determined, driven, and totally into his work. He could have any job he wanted, so why was he here, trying to catch his own kind? She couldn’t be the only one who gave him shit along the way, who didn’t trust him. So why would he do it? Why take the flack?

World peace, my ass.
She wasn’t buying that for a minute. He had another reason for being here. She could feel something below the surface, something he kept under tight wraps.

“Incoming,” Dempsey murmured, his gaze fixed on the sidewalk ahead. Seneca couldn’t see anything in the dark and wrapped her hand around the gun in her holster under her long coat.

A few moments later, a small man approached wearing black jeans and a gray sweatshirt with the hood over his head. She released a breath of relief and shoved her hands back into her pockets. As Bart drew closer, he slowed and eyed Dempsey with suspicion.

She said, “It’s okay. He’s cool. New partner.”

Bart nodded at Dempsey and then settled his gaze on her. She could smell the booze on him and no doubt Dempsey could too. Bart’s eyes were bloodshot and a little unfocused, and his nose was bright red.

“Nice seeing you, Seneca. Sorry about Riley.”

“Thanks,” she said and didn’t ask how he’d found out. Bart always seemed to know what was going on. She liked him, even if he did spend too much time with the bottle. He had been her main man for the past year, and he was a decent guy. More than that, she trusted the information he gave her.

She gave him the photos of Dillinger, and he bobbed his head after studying them in the dim light. “I heard of this guy. Bad dude. Likes to cut people.”

“Any idea where he might be holed up?”

Bart pulled his hood down farther over his head and looked around. “Maybe. Maybe he’s part of the new game in town.”

She sensed his edginess. “Someone new?”

He looked at her soberly, bloodshot eyes and all. “Now I ain’t been down there to check this myself, you understand.”

“Down where?” Seneca asked.

He whispered, “The tunnels.”

“Subway?” Dempsey asked.

Bart looked at Dempsey. “Yeah. Train tunnels too. Sewers, everywhere down there. The Shifters have taken over.”

Seneca knew there were miles of underground networks crisscrossing the city. Thousands of exits and hiding places. If the Shifters were down there, they could come and go under the city practically undetected.

Bart wiped his nose on his shirtsleeve. “A new Shifter moved in. They call him Skinman, and he ain’t alone, if you know what I mean. He’s got friends.”

“What’s he doing?” she asked.

“He supplies DNA,” Dempsey said next to her.

Bart eyed him. “You know? Christ, man. You gonna put me out of business?”

“Don’t plan on it.” Dempsey’s eyes cut to hers for a moment. “I just know the type.”

“Yeah, well, he’s selling DNA to Shifters. So they can come up top,” Bart said. “And not just for money. He’s taking guns, drugs, whatever he can get.”

Seneca’s entire body was shaking, cold to her bones. “Where’s he getting the DNA from?”

“He’s cleaning out the people in the tunnels.”

She closed her eyes at the realization. “The homeless.”

Bart nodded a bunch of times. “Yeah.”

She glanced at Dempsey, but his expression was as unreadable as his emotions.
Exactly what do you know about this?
she wondered.

Bart looked around while he continued. “Everyone’s running scared. People are vanishing, and no one knows what happened to
’em
. Some go missing and when they come back, they’re different.”

“What do you mean?” Seneca asked. “They look different?”

Bart shook his head. “No, they look the same, but they ain’t the same people inside. Don’t know their friends. Don’t know the tunnels.” He sniffed. “I think the Shifters are taking their place.”

That explained how Shifters were getting into polite society. Seneca asked, “Who else knows this?”

“Nobody,” Bart said. “Some people went to the cops, but no one believes ’em. They think it’s drugs or booze talking.”

That wasn’t a bad thing, Seneca realized. XCEL had used the whole urban myth thing for all it was worth. Giant alligators under the city. It was one of the reasons they’d managed to keep the aliens a secret for this long. Their PR would put any presidential candidate to shame.

Dempsey asked, “So you think our man is one of them?”

Bart shrugged. “Could be he used Skinman to get his human form. Maybe not. I’ll ask around.”

“What about Skinman? Can you get a location for us?” Seneca asked.

Bart flinched. “No way.”

She’d never heard Bart turn down a job, which made her want the info even more. Skinman sounded like a serious threat, and she wanted him. “I’ll pay you five hundred to hook us up.”

Bart’s eyes widened, and then he rolled his head. “Man, you’re killing me here.”

“A thousand,” she said.

He blew out a booze -laden breath. “I’ll see what I can do. I ain’t promising anything. And I ain’t going down there to find out. Hate the tunnels. Nothing good ever comes outta there.”

“Understood,” she said. “Thanks.”

Then Bart glanced around and bounced on his feet. “I need to be rolling. Been here too long already.”

Seneca slipped him a couple fifties. “Be careful out there.”

He tucked the money into his jacket and headed back the way he came. Seneca watched him until he blended into the night, and her stomach trembled uncontrollably. It was the perfect setup. Dark, underground, abandoned tunnels and caverns filled with their choice of homeless people to steal DNA from. Who’s going to worry about a street person? They went missing all the time. Shifters steal the DNA, kill them, replicate them, and get their ticket to the surface. Dear God.

As soon as Bart was out of earshot, Seneca turned to find Dempsey watching her.

“We need to get down there,” he said.

“I know.” She headed past him, back to her car before she froze to death. Although, at this point, that was the least of her worries. Dempsey stepped along next to her, and she asked, “What are the chances that Dillinger got a skin from this guy?”

“Possible. The city is a tough place for a Shifter to sneak into without it.”

Lovely. “You said you smelled Dillinger’s scent. Could you ID him by scent if you ran into him again?”

“Yes.”

That was a quick response. “Because he’s a Shifter?”

Dempsey shook his head. “Wouldn’t matter. I have an extremely acute sense of smell. We all do. It’s one of the few senses we can use in any form.”

“How acute?” she asked, looking at him.

Something flickered in his eyes as he focused on her. For a moment, she didn’t think he would answer. For a moment, she forgot about her toes. He finally said, “I could pick you out of a crowd from a city block away. Blindfolded.”

Her jaw dropped a little. “That’s impossible.”

One corner of his mouth curled as he looked straight ahead. “You use Ivory soap when you shower. Your shampoo has an aloe scent additive. You wear deodorant but no perfume. And you put on a clean shirt before coming out tonight.”

She frowned at the accuracy and the unsettling intimacy. Hell, he probably knew what color her underwear were. “Lucky guess.”

He grinned as he slowed at the car, and she took out her keys. He added, “Unfortunately, a city block isn’t very far. I need a decent trail to follow.”

Seneca unlocked the doors. “I’ll take care of the trail. Just don’t forget that scent.”

She was in the car when she heard him say, “I never do.”

S
eneca stifled a yawn as she sat at her desk with Dempsey’s file.

She hadn’t slept well today, what with the impending demise of the human race thanks to Skinman. All she could think of was thousands of variations of freshly deceased homeless people taking Manhattan. It’d be like every bad B movie come to life.

On top of that, she’d had to come in well ahead of the normal night shift, before Dempsey, in the hopes of finding something wrong with him.

Unfortunately, his file was filled with citations and certifications, and glowing performance reports. He’d scored at the top of his class in every aspect. Were all shapeshifters this good? She hoped not. Because humans would become obsolete. Or worse. She’d be reporting to Shifters.

On the personal side, he’d been granted legal status in the United States, no doubt by higher-ups who had never seen the world she lived in. He had an apartment on the Upper West Side, drove a used Toyota, and paid his bills on time, even his taxes. A model citizen. Part of her was grudgingly relieved, part of her was suspicious of anyone who was that perfect, and the last part of her was worried for her job and her country.