Night Season by Eileen Wilks Read Free Book Online

thorough search."
    Cullen asked very sweetly, "Are you by any chance talking about a strip search?"
    The first asshole wasn't as dumb as he looked. He took a quick, involuntary step back.
    "Because if you are, you should know that I strip for a living. If you want me to take my clothes off, it will cost you."
    "You can start with those crutches." Asshole Number Two smiled a tight, smug smile. "Hand them over."
    Cullen's fingertips itched. It would be easy to singe that smirk right off the man's pudgy face. "I'm missing my foot, and you want to take away my crutches."
    "They might be used as weapons."
    Cullen nodded thoughtfully. He'd better do what the man said, hadn't he? One crutch would go to Asshole Number Two—a head shot, he thought. Clip him across the front of the skull, which shouldn't do any lasting damage as long as Cullen minded his strength. The other would go in the stomach of Asshole Number One, who wasn't quite as much of a prick.
    One of the doors behind the assholes opened and a little over five feet of slender Asian woman emerged. "Chill, Cullen."
    He spun to glare at her. "Did you tell this pair of shit-for-brains to strip-search me?"
    Lily's eyebrows went up. She inspected the two guards, settling with admirable instinct on Asshole Number Two. "That your idea, ah…"
    "Baxter," he said, still smirking. He really wasn't very smart. "And I'm following orders."
    "Whose? No, never mind." She spoke over her shoulder to someone on the other side of the doorway. "Ruben, I'd like to bring Cullen in before he burns someone. Could you clear him?"
    The whirr of a motorized wheelchair preceded the man she'd spoken to. Cullen's curiosity shot up, eclipsing his temper for the moment. He'd met the head of the secretive Unit 12 once, but he'd been blind at the time. He knew how Ruben Brooks smelled, the sound of his voice, but not what he looked like.
    Gaunt, erect, and with a beak of a nose, it turned out. Brooks's navy suit was beautifully tailored; his tie, silk—and knotted with all the clumsy disinterest of a five-year-old. His shoes were polished; his socks, brown. Those details said "married" to Cullen, though he supposed it was possible the man's style-conscious partner belonged to his own sex.
    A quick glance at Brook's left hand found a gold ring, giving weight to the married theory. Long fingers, Cullen noted, though the joints were swollen. Arthritis? The product of whatever condition kept him in that chair?
    Behind the chair stood a skinny, red-headed gun freak. Brooks's bodyguard du jour. Steve Timms was human, intense, and barely back on duty after a month's medical leave. Cullen knew all this because he was the man's roommate at the moment.
    Ah , Cullen thought, amused, when Timms failed to reveal by the flicker of a sandy eyelash that he knew Cullen, my little boy is growing up. Hope he doesn't shoot me .
    The wheelchair required Brooks to tilt his head back to study the assholes. "The problem is, Agent Yu," he said mildly, "that I've already cleared Mr. Seabourne. So I'm confused, gentlemen. Whose orders were you following?"
    Asshole Number One was puzzled. "It's standing orders, sir."
    "And yet I didn't issue those orders, and you report to me. I remain mystified."
    Asshole Number Two wasn't puzzled. He didn't like Brooks, thought he'd one-upped the man, and was stupid enough to let it show. "Orders issued by Acting Director Hayes last month, sir. All nonhumans are to be given a level one search before entering a level one secure area."
    "Ah!" Brook's exclamation landed soft and cold in the hallway. "You are oddly ignorant. Those orders were rescinded two days after being issued. The President," he went on in that chill, quiet voice, "did not consider them helpful. Nor do I. You will call Mr. Croft now and inform him you are to be replaced here at once, as you are temporarily suspended from duty. Mr. Seabourne." He looked at Cullen. "I appreciate your promptness and apologize for the insult. Please