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probably a good amount of humans he’d come in contact with deathly afraid of him.
    Bas shrugged. “She says she has a source who saw a man whose face began to look like a cat’s in an alley behind Athena’s. The source also stated you were there.”
    With the mention of Athena’s and Bas’s obvious nod in his direction, all eyes went to Xavier, better known to the shifters as X. The muscled arms of this shifter who was built more like a WWF wrestler, were what everyone saw first. The fact that he was a computer genius who used to work for the FBI was secondary, and often unbelievable. X had been the one hanging out at Athena’s. He’d also been accused of killing one of the strippers there who he’d been in contact with. And his companheiro, Caprise, had also danced there.
    “There’s no source, Drake was there in the alley and the next day she wrote a story about the raid on Athena’s,” X said definitively. “We were dealing with the whole Rolando situation. He was the one who was shifting when Nivea dragged the reporter and the photographer out of the alley,” he finished.
    Rome squeezed the bridge of his nose. Nick cursed. And Bas shook his head, rubbing a hand casually over his jaw before replying. “It was dark in the alley. She’d just come out of a nightclub where there’s known drug activity. As long as there’s no one to corroborate the story we’re fine,” he told them in the nonchalant manner he was known for.
    That was Bas’s way, he was the cool-under-pressure FL, the relaxed and always composed owner who didn’t take any crap from anybody but rarely had to get violent. He worked hard as hell to keep that persona as his general profile, preferring that over being considered the vain and superficial one in leadership. A low-level reporter—not even as hot as Priya Drake—could not rattle him because the alternative wasn’t safe for anyone.
    “So you denied everything she said?” X asked.
    “You know he did,” Jace added with a smirk. “And he did it with that smooth-ass smile of his. She probably couldn’t remember what the hell he’d said because she was transfixed by his pretty-boy looks.”
    Bas smoothed down his low-cut mustache, shaking his head. “You have your way of dealing with problems, and I have mine. But I didn’t give her any additional information, if that’s what you’re really asking.”
    “We’re asking if your smoother-than-silk, lover-of-the-century plan is going to keep this female’s mouth closed?” Nick inquired.
    Bas didn’t like the way X and Nick were looking at him, didn’t like the implications that were floating around this room, but he didn’t plan to address them either, not unless absolutely necessary. His hand moved to glide slowly down the length of his light blue Ferragamo tie. “She won’t tell a soul what she saw until she’s absolutely sure,” he said with confidence. “And if she does, I’ll fix it so that nobody believes a word she says.”
    Nick, who used to have his own reputation as the handsome and unattainable attorney, until he’d found his companheiro and had a joining ceremony, followed by a beautiful little daughter, only shook his head. “Where is she now?”
    “Probably still in his bed,” Jace quipped.
    “You slept with her?” X asked, incredulous, because sometimes, even Bas’s closest friends believed the hype of his notorious reputation.
    Besides the image of Bas that had been created solely by the press, it was common knowledge among their tribe that shifters had an insatiable sexual appetite, especially when they found their companheiros. There was nothing more important to them during the companheiro calor. What none of the shifters in this room knew was how successful Bas had been in banking that desire to save his own sanity and to keep the guilt that ate at him daily with a voracious appetite from consuming him completely. But that wasn’t for them to know, it was his business and the way he