Shifters: A Samantha Reece Mystery Book 1 Jaime Johnesee (best reads of all time txt) 📖

Chad for the love and security he provides. In reality, Chad's a nice guy, but he's not passionate about anything, and passion was something I sorely needed in my life. However, a guy like my maker, who didn’t seem to understand the concept of consent, wasn’t anything close to what I wanted.

Actually, what I really needed to do was take the time to think about everything I learned today. I needed to ponder on what my maker said. I'd often wondered why the jaguar who'd bitten me had done so. He told me today he'd been watching me. That kind of pissed me off and made me rather disgusted.

Don't get me wrong, the anger was there, but it was nowhere near as hot as it should be for the man who'd just admitted to stalking and turning me without my consent. There was something about him that took the edge off that rage. Perhaps it was that he seemed so honest in his plea for me to understand why.

He was so sure turning me would make my life better and he chose to do it for that reason. I feel like there was something more that I was missing in his confession, but most of me didn’t really give a shit. What I did care about were all the questions I had as a jaguar and how he could fill in those blanks. However, now was not the time for thinking about that stuff.

Now was the time to concentrate on my job—not to mention the pieces of women being left in cheap motel bathrooms. Quinn, Josh, and I finished our food while strategizing the day's events.

Josh said, “I’ll get in touch with this forensic team I heard of that has come up with a bulletproof way of confirming whether a blood sample is human, animal, shifter, vamp, or other.”

“Good idea.” I finished the last bite of my toast.

“From here on their testing methods should be used on any further victims.” Quinn took a bite of his oatmeal and grimaced.

“I agree. I know they use it at Interpol for every body they get. I wish we’d follow their lead.”

“Same here,” said Hahn.

I felt fairly certain we’d figured out the method to Grisly's madness thanks to the priest. Quinn and I were heading back to the office to let our boss, Gerald, in on what we'd come up with. After that we'd go and see the priest and get any info we may have missed from his earlier talks with other agents.

Once we'd finished our meals, we stood, slapped down a good amount of cash on the table as a tip, and strode to the cashier.

Genie met us at the register, beamed broadly, then turned to me and said, "Your friend paid for your breakfast before he left, sweet pea."

Then she turned to ring up Josh, leaving me to stew. I decided to pay for my breakfast, anyway.

“Hey, Genie, keep whatever money that bastard gave you as a tip. I wouldn't feel right not paying for my own breakfast.”

She shrugged, said thanks, and rang me up after Quinn. I felt vindicated that I didn't allow my maker to get the best of me.

Plus, I liked Genie, so seeing her get an extra tip was always a good thing. We said our goodbyes and then hustled off to the parking lot.

Josh climbed into his beat up red Ford F150 while Quinn and I went to my car. I figured he must have rode to the restaurant with Josh when he followed me to my Challenger. The drive back to the office was spent with both of us in contemplative moods and a lot of AC/DC. For some reason they really kick my thinking into high gear.

While we drove back to the Bureau I began to wonder if I would actually see my maker again. I had some choice words for him that I hadn't thought quickly enough to use at the diner. Part of me hoped I'd see him again and it had nothing to do with yelling at him. Stupid fucking bond. It's like I'm an undersexed teenager and he's on the cover of Teen Beat. Do they still have Teen Beat? Oh, well, it doesn't really matter.

What matters is that I don't allow my feelings to take over for logical thinking. Being attracted to the man who changed me was one thing, panting after the guy was something I would never be okay with. I wasn't that kind of chick.

Chapter 4

I FOLLOWED QUINN INTO THE OFFICE, still fuming at the whole situation. I should be happy to have a lead on Grisly, and yet that happiness was eclipsed by the impromptu return of my maker. A man whose name escaped me. A man that claims to have known me before he bit me.

I recall the coffee cart he spoke of. In fact, I still get coffee there at least once a week. More than that when I have to go to the DA's office. Was he watching me in the same way I’d watch the bird that frequented the patio birdfeeder outside my living room window? Had I been merely a repeat guest-star in his people-watching endeavors? Or was he actually stalking me? Did he wait by the window for me to arrive every day? It was too creepy to contemplate so I shook myself out of it.

"Hey, Sam, can you run up to thirteen and grab the results from forensics? I have to call Kelly," Quinn asked before turning to head for his desk.

"Yeah, sure. Don’t forget to lead off with the fruit and oatmeal." I grinned as I moved to the elevators.

Judging from the sheepish look on his face I was right and he was making the I had bacon, please don't kill me call to his wife. One of the most endearing things about Q is his sense of guilt.

He was the most loyal person I'd ever met and he wouldn't hurt a