Chaos

Chapter Twenty-One

** If you want to know what happened in the Bahamas, you can read the story in my Deleted Scenes.

Chapter 21

I pulled my thoughts out of the past and looked back out to the crowd. "So I guess you got my message?" I asked. At his nod, I began to explain everything that happened since I have been in Shifters' Den.

Halfway through, Berto interrupted me. "Damn girl. I leave you by yourself for all of three weeks and you've not only manage to hint to the shifters that you aren't one hundred percent human. BUT, you've manage to blow an alias?"

I gave Berto my puppy dog eyes and a pouty face. "It's not my fault." I said in a put out voice.

Berto chuckled, "Nothing ever is your fault is it?"

I threw my hands up in the air, "I do take responsibility when it's my fault. Remember last year in New Mexico? I totally fessed up. And I even cleaned it up."

Berto rolled his eyes. "Okay, how about the Bahamas?** Ever going to own up to that?" I gave him a mock-horrified look. "Hell no. Because it wasn't my fault. How was I suppose to know the helicopter was going to run out of gas? Besides, I totally owned that crash landed."

At his raised eyebrow, I huffed, "You're still alive aren't you?" I sent an elbow into his stomach when he muffled, "Just barely." After our mock-fighting, I continued with my adventures at the Den.

He nodded his head thoughtfully. "Yeah, I agree with you. Peter is definitely up to something, but I don't know what. I have some contacts that can look into the situation."

I waited a beat before I told Berto the real reason why we were meeting at this party. "Joe's been made." I gritted, still pissed at Joe and the whole problem.

Berto swore. "What are you going to do?"

"Damage control." I answered, shrugging my shoulders.

"Chaos, you can't kill him. He has contacts and his fingers are almost as sticky as yours."

"I know and you know, but he doesn't know I won't kill him." I flashed Berto my best deranged smile. "Wish me luck, buddy." I pushed off the wall, stalking over to my prey, Joe. He was sitting at the end of the bar, as if he didn't have a care in the world. Which just pissed me off even more.

Joe was at average height, atleast 5'6. His wheat blonde hair was combed over perfectly to the side. His skin was tanned to the perfect shade of bronze. His clothing matched the warehouse party scene perfectly, all the way down to his combat boots. He had color contacts in to make his eyes a perfect blue to match his wheat blonde hair, perfectly. Joe Mika might be many things, but he could never be called a slob. He was in short words, vain. Very vain. So one tiny threat to mess up his perfect facial structure should have him singing to the birdies. I smiled wickedly.

"Wait," Berto whispered. I glanced over to Berto. He jerked his head over to the left. I followed his motion. I locked onto the exotic black-haired amazon, who was teetering on gold heels. Her hair fell in silkily strands down her back. She wore a low scoop shirt, that revealed a tantalizing amount of cleavage. Her black leather pants looked painted on.

"Damn! I thought we had more time." I whispered-yelled to Berto. My eye shifted to Joe. He was still sitting at the bar, lazily stirring his drink. Even though his head and shoulders were slumped forward, Joe was not inattentive. His somber ocean blue eyes were as sharp as a hawk's. Nothing went unnoticed by Joe. He probably already knows I am here.

"How long, do you think?" I asked as Berto saddled up next to me.

"I think after she makes a pass at him, he'll call her out." Rasped his voice.