Interrogation Techniques by Charlie Richards

 

Chapter One

“You’re coming, Del, and that’s the end of it!”

Enforcer Delanrue Drudeson turned his head just enough to arch his left eyebrow as he pinned a side-eyed look on his youngest brother—Dakota.

“Seven,” his brother continued. “And if you want that shit microbrew stuff you like, you can bring it your own damn self.”

Delanrue—Del to his brothers and only his brothers—growled softly under his breath. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to go to his youngest brother’s Christmas party. Actually, Del did.

Instead, Del fought against curling his lip because he spotted Glade Kanston strutting down the corridor toward them. He found the other Shifter Council enforcer to be a piece of entitled, self-absorbed shit. Del had hoped he would be implicated in working with one of the rogue ex-councilmen, just so he could arrest him and never have to deal with him again.

Too bad that hadn’t happened.

Glade was not only straight as an arrow with a stick up his ass, that stick meant he wasn’t going to break any shifter laws, either.

Guess that’s a good thing.

“I mean it,” Dakota pressed, clearly misunderstanding his vocalization. He waved his finger under Del’s nose while adding, “If you’re not there by seven, I’ll send—”

“I’ll be there,” Del stated in a low, gruff voice. “Stop your bitchin’.”

Del couldn’t care less who Dakota thought he could send to get him to comply. If he didn’t want to go somewhere, he wouldn’t. The only time he did something that he would rather not was when he was ordered to by the Shifter Council.

Seeing as Del loved his job as an enforcer and interrogator for the Shifter Council, that didn’t happen too often.

“Good,” Dakota replied, sounding smug. Then he must have spotted who actually held Del’s attention, for he muttered, “Oh.”

Del grunted but left it at that, since by then, Glade had drawn close enough to be within earshot. Trying to avoid true interaction, he met the lion shifter’s gaze and dipped his chin in the barest of nods. Then Del focused his attention down the hall past the man.

From the corner of his eye, Del saw that Dakota did much the same thing. Then his brother returned to their conversation, and Del knew it was a ploy to keep Glade from attempting to engage them. Especially since Del knew Dakota was already aware of that which he spoke.

“Dane said he might be bringing a date,” Dakota stated, a chuckle in his tone. “If he can convince the lady to join him, that is.” With an open laugh, his brother added, “Guess our brother is having trouble convincing her that he’s sincere.”

“Probably because he’s not,” Del replied absently. Shaking his head, he thought about their middle brother’s desire to date a human woman named Linda. “She’s not his mate. I don’t see why Dane’s bothering. He can never reveal what we are to her, and he’ll have to dump her eventually anyway.”

Del had never understood why a shifter would date someone who was not only not a paranormal, but not their fated mate. There was no future there. Besides, even if they did decide to date a paranormal, Fate could place their mate in their path at any second.

Even though Del had warned his brothers of that very thing on many occasions, both of them had been in and out of many relationships over the nearly two centuries they’d lived. Del would sit back and watch, and when their liaison inevitably fell apart, he’d helped his brothers mend their hearts.

“Dane is dating some poor hapless woman?” Glade smirked, stopping to stand in their path. He even crossed his arms over his chest as if that would make him some immovable object. “I bet he hasn’t even let the lady know he’s a dick licker. Maybe I should swing by tonight and let her know.”

Del twisted his lips into a scowl as he glared at Glade. “Watch your mouth, Enforcer Glade,” he ordered. As the council’s lead interrogator, in the intricate hierarchy within those working for the Shifter Council, Del’s position topped the lion shifter’s. “Or someone on the council may hear about your slurs.”

Glade tipped his chin up and attempted to look down his nose at Del and his brother. “I’m sure I wouldn’t have anything to worry about. I work under Councilman Peregrine, after all,” he stated, referring to an elk shifter who disagreed with homosexual matings. “He knows the true value of loyalty.”

Councilman Georgio Peregrine’s views had nearly caused him to lose his position, since he’d been backing other councilmen who were committing crimes against shifter-kind. When those crimes had come to light, the councilman had turned against them. That hadn’t changed what he thought about gay matings, however. It just meant he was more subtle about where and when he voiced those views.

Evidently, he shares them with Glade.

Del knew better than to engage a bigot. Besides, he had places to be. He was in the middle of interrogating the last half dozen shifters who’d been captured when they’d taken down the now-deceased rogue ex-councilman Krakow.

Good riddance.

Taking a step to the left and forward, Del began rounding the idiot standing in the middle of the hall. He noticed Dakota doing the same to his right. He peered beyond the man, turning his thoughts to the upcoming interrogation he needed to do.

That morning, Del had picked the brains of two bear shifters and one tiger shifter. Then he’d stopped to have lunch with Dakota. His afternoon would consist of the last three men they’d found.

Finally, the dungeons would be empty... of those people anyway.

Del knew a few shifters had been brought in for other crimes, but they hadn’t been a priority. The council wanted all the information they could on Krakow’s contacts, so they’d focused on his associates. Unfortunately, the wolf shifter hadn’t shared too much about his organization with his minions—probably because he thought they were beneath him.

I bet Pedro knows something, though.

Pedro Kenbrook had been Krakow’s accountant for over a hundred years. He’d created false accounting information to hide his boss’s activities—payment for the sale of shifters as well as the money Krakow had paid to the mercenaries who captured them. Their cyber team had also uncovered files on the serums that the military was concocting by experimenting on shifters, although the formulas were incomplete.

Can’t wait to make that guy crack.

They’d purposefully made Pedro wait until the end, allowing him to watch cell-mates disappear from around him.

“Hey, don’t you walk away from me,” Glade snapped, grabbing Del’s upper arm. “I’m not done talking to you.”

Del barely resisted rolling his eyes. With his thoughts on his duties, he’d nearly forgotten Glade was there. Pausing, he pinned the moronic lion with a cold gaze. “Not wise to put your hands on me,” he stated, cutting a quick glance at where Glade had the audacity to touch him without permission.

Glade scoffed, although a hint of uncertainty crossed his features, but only for a second.

No sense of self-preservation.

“Like I said,” Glade claimed. “You can’t do anything to me. I’m Peregrine’s favorite.”

Del was damn tempted to sock the other shifter anyway. He couldn’t give a shit that Glade thought he was untouchable. Seeing Dakota move to stand next to him and taking in his brother’s angry expression, he knew Dakota was on the same page and Glade was way out-classed.

We’d wipe the floor with him.

That was exactly why Del resisted.

Reaching over with his left hand, Del gripped the pinky and ring finger of Glade’s hand. He wrenched them away from his bicep in what he knew was a painful hold. Hearing Glade hiss as his hand came away from him, Del released him, pushing his hand away further.

“We’re done here,” Del declared coldly, then began to turn away.

As if Glade had taken stupid pills that morning, he began reaching for Del’s arm again. His expression had darkened to a thunderous look. Self-righteousness gleamed in his hazel eyes.

Del blocked Glade’s attempt to grab him, and Dakota took it a step further. His brother snagged the lion shifter’s outstretched wrist. Using his momentum, Dakota pushed Glade sideways, making him stumble several steps in the direction the shifter had been heading—toward the cafeteria.

“I’m gonna make you pay for that,” Glade snapped, his hands fisting. He took a step back toward them. “When Councilman Peregrine hears how you pushed me around, you’re gonna be sanctioned.”

“If you keep grabbing me, the councilman will hear how we more than pushed you,” Del warned. “I have places to be, and you’re interfering with my duties.”

Dakota scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. A rakish grin creased his features. “That means we’re well within our right to extricate my brother from your grabby hands via any means necessary.”

“Bullshit,” Glade barked. “You were just eating lunch together. I know you, Delanrue.” His eyes narrowed as if he had discovered some secret. “If you were in the middle of your duties, you wouldn’t be having a long lunch with Dakota.”

Although Del didn’t care for the way Glade dropped his title of respect, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he replied calmly, “How I spend my lunch hour is not your concern, Enforcer Glade.” Turning, Del began striding in the opposite direction. “Good day.”

“I told you not to turn your back on me,” Glade warned, anger filling his voice anew. “We’re not done. I wanna know—”

“Enforcer Glade, stop hindering Enforcer Delanrue from returning to his duties,” a deep voice ordered, drawing Del’s attention to beyond the lion shifter. “I know you have somewhere you need to be, too.”

Del spotted Mycroft Portent, an uber-dominant cheetah shifter, who worked as the head enforcer for the council. He ran a tight ship that Del appreciated. Mycroft had a frown creasing his lightly tanned features, and he was focused on Glade.

“Sorry, sir.” Glade’s tone immediately turned respectful. “I was just trying to get clarification on a matter.”

“Get it another time,” Mycroft ordered. Then he flicked his gaze between the brothers and gave them an almost infinitesimal nod. “I look forward to hearing what your afternoon’s assignments have to say.”

“Me, too,” Del replied honestly as he returned the cheetah shifter’s nod. “I’ll have my report to everyone as soon as possible, Head Enforcer Mycroft.”

“Good,” the man replied.

Happy to get away from the annoying and obnoxious lion shifter, Del headed toward the interrogation wing. His brother broke off to the left, bidding him good-bye and see you later. Del responded by waving.

Del took the elevator down to the third underground level where the cells and interrogation rooms were located. As soon as he stepped off the elevator, a light, airy scent caught his attention. The pleasant fragrance was completely out of place within the hallway of cool concrete that ended in a heavy steel door which led to the cells.

To Del’s increasing confusion, he felt the komodo dragon he shared his psyche with rumble with interest. His body warmed, and arousal began simmering sluggishly through his veins. He took in a slow, deep breath, hoping to squelch the unexpected and completely ill-timed rush of desire, but all that did was allow another surge of the pleasant aroma into his lungs.

What the hell?

Doing his best to dismiss the oddity, Del strode toward Germaine—a fellow enforcer and anaconda shifter. The tall, whipcord lean man stood outside the second interrogation room on the left. Two rooms were on each side of the hallway, just in case several had to be interviewed at once, so they could compare stories.

Of course, since a paranormal could normally tell when a person was lying, that didn’t happen very often. Coincidentally, that was one of the things Krakow’s serums had been trying to remedy. They’d done it, too, although the side effect meant the user had a distinct odor of patchouli. Now, every person smelling of that scent was suspect.

In my opinion, anyway.

“Hello, Enforcer Germaine,” Del greeted the wiry black shifter. At six-foot-five, Del was nearly able to look the inch taller shifter in the eye. “Who’s next on the list?”

“He says his name is Miggs. A guy we caught in his guinea pig form at the warehouse. Claims he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He hasn’t said anything beyond that,” Germaine told him as he handed over a clipboard. When he sniffed, his black brows furrowed. “Uh, everything okay?”

While Del was known for being excellent at his job, he’d never become aroused by it. He figured the faint scent was confusing the snake shifter—or concerning him.

Grimacing, Del admitted, “There’s a scent here that’s getting to me.” Then he focused on the page attached to the clipboard, trying to will away his burgeoning erection. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll still do—”

If Del had had a lightbulb in his brain, it would have suddenly flicked on.

Del grimaced as he peered toward the closed door. “Or maybe I won’t,” he muttered. “Hang on.”

Cocking his head, Germaine didn’t comment as Del reached past him.

Opening the door, Del didn’t even need to take one step into the room. The light, airy scent pervaded the space with its deliciousness. His dragon rumbled with delight, urging Del to find the source and capture it for all time.

Mine!

Pinning his gaze on the shifter chained to the table, Del barely resisted the urge to run to him and free him from his bonds. The small man sat hunched at the table. His short hair hung lank against his skull, as if even the locks were admitting defeat.

Del wanted to wrap the little shifter in his arms and comfort him. He wanted to assure him that everything would be okay, and he would keep him safe. Then Del wanted to strip the baggy clothes to discover the body within.

Except, he had a job to do.

When the man—Miggs—lifted his gaze and peered at him with fear-filled brown eyes from beneath his lashes, Del realized he couldn’t.

Stepping backward, Del closed the door, and even putting that scant bit of distance between them tested his control.

Shit! These mating urges are intense.

“Call Enforcer Malone,” Del murmured, tearing his gaze away from the closed door. He met Germaine’s questioning look and told him, “That shifter, Miggs, is my mate. There’s no way I can interrogate him objectively.”

Germaine’s jaw sagged open, and his eyes opened wide. Then his lips curved into a wide smile. “Damn, man. Congrats.” Just as quickly, Germaine cast a worried look toward the room. “Hope he was telling the truth.”

Del nodded. “Me, too.”

Clamping his hand on Del’s shoulder, Germaine offered him an encouraging smile. “We’ll get it sorted.” He took the clipboard, then used it to indicate the interrogation room. “Go comfort your mate. The little fellow looks like he could use it.”

Nodding again, Del silently agreed.

As Del heard Germaine talking on his phone, he reopened the door and slowly headed inside, ready to meet the shifter who was about to turn his world upside-down.

Still, I can’t wait.

An emotion flooded Del, and it took him a second to identify it.

Joy.