There was no way he wouldn’t be prepared for us. This wasn’t a backwoods hick set out to purify his race or some bumbling idiot with a knife in a dark alley.
This man had come to play, and he was doing it hard.
They planned to replace Bea with a lookalike cop, a young rookie by the name of Marla Bennet who was about the same stature and shade of blond as my girl. The cops didn’t understand Bea had a special quality that couldn’t be replicated. An innocent light that throbbed like a torch in the dark, attracting the creatures that lurked in the shadows inexorably toward her.
This man was obsessed with Bea. I was obsessed with Bea. In this way, we understood each other. We were both psychopaths set out to claim her, but the similarities ended there.
I would not relinquish my claim.
He would not have her. Not now, not ever.
The closest he would come to her was me when I ripped him apart with my bare hands for scaring her.
My brave girl, so sweet and courageous, was fucking terrified. I watched as the dream turned dark in her mind, as she whimpered and twitched.
He had followed her even there.
Unacceptable.
I put my scarred, inked hand on Bea’s milky shoulder and shook gently before rolling her into my chest. Her body was boneless and sleep-warm against me. Without waking, she nuzzled into my body and gave a little, contented sigh.
Something turned over in my ribs.
“Bea,” I called into her ear. “Wake up, Little Shadow.”
“Hmm?” she murmured, cuddling so close it seemed she wanted to crawl under my skin.
The urge to laugh moved through me.
“Wake up, now. I’m gonna fuck you before we have to leave.”
Instantly, almost comically, her eyes snapped open, and she tilted them up to mine. The blue was so vivid, utterly untouched by any other pigment but that pure, bright azure.
“Are you fucking me because you want to claim me before I go face my tormentor?” she questioned.
I didn’t answer verbally. Instead, I bent down and pressed a searing kiss to that pink mouth.
She hummed as I pulled away, lashes fluttering. “Right. Well, I’m more than happy to indulge you, but Priest? I want you to know, no matter what happens, I’m going to be okay.”
“There is no fuckin’ way you can promise that.”
Her hand lifted between us, fingers trailing in that way she’d made into habit along my bearded jaw. “It’s not. I couldn’t live with myself if I let another person suffer or die for me. I don’t have it in me to be so ruthless.”
“I do,” I suggested unemotionally. “I could stop you. If you think I haven’t been lyin’ here thinkin’ of all the ways I could forcibly stop you from doin’ this, you’re fucked.”
Instead of an insult, she found humour in that. “You wouldn’t do that.”
I snorted because that was fucking debatable.
“Tabby would do the same thing for me,” she continued. “She practically took Phillipa and me under her wing after everything happened with my dad. Without Seth and her, we might’ve been social pariahs even with Grandpa being the pastor.”
“You don’t know that,” I argued reasonably. “You don’t know what the hell someone’s capable of sacrificin’ until they’re faced with the hard choice and no option out of it.”
“Maybe that’s true. But this is my hard choice, and it’s the only one I’m comfortable making. You once told me you were a killer, sin-stained and covered in blood. I accepted that. Can you accept that I’m the kind of woman who will always put her loved ones first?”
I scowled because the fairmindedness of her argument was impossible to refute. How could it be possible that she accepted a killer with so much more grace than I could accept her saintliness?
I grunted in affirmation. That was all I was willing to give.
She smiled up at me, brighter than the rising sun above us. “You can fuck me now.”
I rolled on top of her, already hard, hard since the moment I woke to her in my bed. “I’ll fuck you, and then we’ll do this harebrained fucking plan together ’cause I’ve got your back even when you make choices I disagree with. But you don’t leave my goddamn side the entire exchange, and if shit gets fucked, we’re outta there. No questions asked, Bea.”
“No questions asked,” she agreed a second before my mouth descended on hers, and all conversation was forgotten.
I should’ve known it would all go to shit and been better fucking prepared.
* * *
* * *
It had snowed overnight, a thick blanketing of sticky white that clung to every surface of Entrance and made it gleam diamond bright under the full light of a cool toned sun. The glitter of it in the pine boughs caught my eye as I stood at the edge of the forest backing the Waverly’s property staring across the field at a rusted old car and two figures wrapped in dark clothes already waiting for us.
The cops had started setting up their scene deep in the night. The two forms and the rusty bucket had already been there. It irritated the cops, but then, at least they’d known better than to try to conceal their presence from the killer. He would know they were there no matter how hard they tried to hide.
He’d picked the right spot for the exchange. Aside from the copse of trees on either side of the clearing, the expanse was large and flat, unideal for snipers or any other surprises the pigs might’ve used against him. The forest at his back gave him the ideal cover to disappear, or at least get a head start in the chase. I traced the path of the trees over the flat valley up onto the incline of a decent mountain farther in the distance. Lion confirmed plainclothes policemen were surrounding the broader area too, but I had as much confidence in them as I did in any kinda God.
Again, the killer was proving smarter than the average lowlife.
“Got a bad fuckin’ feelin’ about this,” I muttered as I leaned against the cop car harboring my woman.
If I had it my way, she wouldn’t leave the damn thing until this was done. In my mind, there was no reason she even had to be there, but the cops wanted her there in case the killer requested verbal confirmation it was her.
“You gotta have some faith,” Lion encouraged, even though he looked drawn and pale as he studied the maps on the hood of the car that traced out the area.
“He’s got too many places to run from here,” I pointed out, driving my finger into the map. “Fuck, Lion, how the hell do you think this is gonna go down?”
“He’s here, man. This is as close as we’ve gotten to seeing the fucker. Even if we just get a visual, it’ll be fucking worth it.”
“If anything happens to her…” I growled, hand flexing so hard on the hood it made the metal pop beneath my grip.
Lion shot me an unimpressed look. “Rein it in, Priest. If the cops decide you’re obstructing them, they’ll arrest you in a heartbeat. You think they don’t want to already? You got a reputation, and any one of these men would be happy for the boost it would give to their careers to take down The Fallen’s enforcer.”
I grunted as I turned away to watch the faux-Bea shift on her feet at the front of the police cars and cops with equipment. She was wearing Bea’s puffy white winter coat and thick cream pattern tights under a pink dress that just peeked out from under the hem. Her hair was down and curled in the way Bea did hers and she was doing a decent job of affecting Bea’s innocent manner.
Still, she wouldn’t pass.
Maybe from three hundred yards.
Maybe from fifty paces.
Any closer and the killer would see the square face instead of the heart, the brown eyes instead of the blue, the pretty girl instead of the fucking angel.
“How’re you doing?” Hutchinson asked as he walked up to us.
I shot him a cold look.
He chuckled without humour. “Seems about right. Listen, we’re ready to go in. I know you’ll stay here with Bea, but I’ll put Moore on her too. He won’t leave the
car.”
“Fuck Moore.” The bastard was the one to interrogate me about the murders.
“He’s on edge,” Lion explained calmly. “Ignore him.”
“We could use you up front,” he offered. “We’re sending Bennet out with Harcourt, but if you wanna go with, I won’t object.”
Lion cast me a sidelong glance, probably wondering if I would cause trouble unsupervised, but eventually, he nodded. I received a back slap as he moved past.
I’d never liked Lionel Danner before he hooked up with Harleigh Rose, and I barely liked him now. In my mind, once a fucking cop, always a fucking cop. But I got that he was looking out for the club, for Bea, and even for me, though before being with Bea, I wouldn’t have even acknowledged that.
As if my thoughts prompted her, Bea slid to my side of the car in the back and knocked on the window. I bent down to peer inside, catching sight of her smile. She pressed her hand to the window, and I got the idea she was thanking me for my trust.
I tipped my chin at her, then turned away, bracing my hips back against the door, blocking her from sight. Within the vehicle, I heard a little laugh.
At the front, Moore, Lion, and the fake-Bea started forward with five minutes left on the clock before the killer threatened to off Tabitha Linley.
Their slow march across the snow was difficult to watch in the bright, glittering light of the sun, but I narrowed my lids and hardly blinked.
They were halfway to the two unmoving figures when something glinted between the dark pair.
My mouth was open on a shout of warning only a second before a gunshot echoed through the clearing.
The faux-Bea crumpled to the ground. I could see the red of blood stark against the snow even from there.
I moved, rounding the car to get to the driver’s seat.
Officer Travers stood before me.
“Move,” I ordered. “We’re gettin’ outta here before this goes to hell.”
“I have orders to keep her here. We don’t know what’s happening yet,” he argued.
Chaos erupted behind me as the cops shouted at each other, and the radios exploded with noise.
“I’m gettin’ my girl out of here,” I growled. “You have one second to move your ass, or I’ll gladly move it for you.”
He blinked at the feral expression on my face but didn’t move.
“Your funeral,” I promised as I bent slightly and barreled into him.
He tried to brace but went flying backward hard into a snowdrift.
I stalked forward, hand reaching for the handle when something sharp bit into my back. A second later, electricity jolted through my entire body, seizing my muscles, contracting them against my control. I fell to the ground, head bouncing against the side of the car as I went.
A fucking Taser.
I gritted my teeth against the sensation, trying to fight through it so that I could be prepared to move the second it let up.
Instead, a hard knee landed in my back the moment it did.
“Hold still, motherfucker, you’re under arrest for obstructing justice,” a strange voice said in my ear.
I recognized it only vaguely as belonging to one of the RCMP officers.
I fought his hold, surging to my knees, then lifting into a half-crouch with his entire weight clinging to my back. I reared back, slamming him into the car to shake him loose.
He fell.
But the commotion had drawn the notice of other cops. One came at me. I landed a hard punch to the corner of the jaw, snapping his head back so he went out cold before he even hit the ground. The next was smarter and drew his Taser, aiming it at me with a warning. I moved forward still, dodging the prongs as they flew toward me to tackle the arsehole around the legs. As I straddled him, I said, “I just want to take my woman home. Let me get her to safety.”
He tried to punch me in the face, but I grabbed his fist and twisted so hard something popped in his wrist. He screamed just as another cop tackled me from behind, pinning me to the ground. I struggled, but there was another cop after that, Travers having recovered.
He snarled in my ear as I tried to get free. “You’re done, motherfucker. Done!”
Above the cacophony, I was vaguely aware of tires crunching in the snow. Panic like I’d never known spiked through my blood. I snapped my head back into Travers and heard him curse as he fell to the side. The other cop tried to pin my hands behind my back, but I was able to leverage my body into a roll that half pinned him beneath me. When he tried to get up, I elbowed him in the face.
I sprang to my feet, ready to turn around to face the car that held Bea, to fucking kill anyone who tried to get between me and that vehicle.
“Hold, you bastard,” someone seethed beside me as the cold press of a gun kissed my temple. “I swear to God, I’ll put you down where you stand if you try to assault any more of my men.”
I snarled. “Your operation is fucked. I need to get Bea out of here.”
“Officer Moore has her,” he said. “He’s taken her back to the department to keep her safe. The motherfucker in the clearing wasn’t the killer. Just a kid tied to a fucking stake and an older woman posing as Linley. She fired the gun, but the kid got shot in the crossfire.”
Winter settled in my bones, silent and deadly. “Radio Moore.”
“I just told you, he’s taken her to the PD.”
“Motherfuckin’ radio Moore!’ I snapped, done with this shit.
I kicked out, catching the cop in the leg so he stumbled, then swiftly turned to grab the gun in his hand, releasing the mag with a quick jerk of my wrist. It fell to the icy ground with a clatter. I used the barrel of the weapon as a handle and swung it at the cop. He grunted as it contacted his jaw.
“Priest!” Lion yelled, jogging toward me as more cops converged with their guns drawn.
The rest were in the clearing, an ambulance wailing in the distance, cops gathered around the fallen Bennet and the injured kid.
I stood in the semi-circle of men in blue, not breathing hard, just vibrating with coiled tension. I’d kill them all if they didn’t get me to Bea.
“Priest,” Lion barked, stepping through the ring to my side. “What the fuck?”
“They took Bea, they said,” I ground out. “Moore took Bea to the station. Call that motherfucker, I want Bea’s voice on the line.”
Lion’s eyes widened fractionally before he could curtail the expression. “I’m sure she’s fine, brother. Just a precaution to get her outta here when shit went down.”
“Call. Him.”
Lion didn’t hesitate again. He shouted for Hutchinson, who was running operations on this with the RCMP rep. Hutch took one look at my face and blanched before he called in to Moore.
No one answered.
Conviction settled over me like a heavy mantle.
I knew what had happened.
It was a trap.
Distract everyone so they could send in some fucked religious convert to take Bea away from me.
I knew it before Hutch tried again and then again. Before he called the PD and confirmed with the receptionist that Moore hadn’t arrived.
In truth, I’d known it in my bones when I woke up this morning.
“Priest,” Lion said through the muffled chaos of my own mind.
But I was done.
Done with the fucking pigs. Done with the rules. Done with everything.
This man wanted Bea?
He’d taken my woman from me? Torn my shadow from my side?
I was going to make him pay so painfully, he’d weep blood as he begged me for mercy.
“We’ll find her,” Hutch was saying.
The cops around me had dissipated, called to duty to find the girl they’d let go.
Hutch stepped closer to me.
A mistake.
I hauled him into my arms and snarled viciously into his face. “You did this, motherfucker. I told you all it was a dumb fuckin’ plan, and you were too convinced of your own invincibi
lity. Wearin’ a badge doesn’t mean shit if you don’t protect the fuckin’ innocent, and Bea was the best of that. I’m done. I’m gettin’ her back before the motherfucker kills her, and I’m doin’ it my way. You try to stop me, I’ll end you too. You hear me?”
He swallowed thickly but held his hands up in surrender. “I hear you.”
I tossed him away without another thought, stalking to my bike parked at the side of the ride. Bea’s helmet was still attached to the seat. Fury crackled through me, searing my skin, burning the backs of my eyes.
I was alive, alive, alive with fury.
“Priest,” Lion called.
I revved the engine of my bike to drown him out.
“I’m here,” he persisted, raising his voice even louder as I spun out into the street. “You need me, I’m here.”
I didn’t respond as I gunned the bike down the road. This wasn’t cop business anymore. It was club business. Family business. My fucking business.
I wouldn’t stop until I had this motherfucker’s blood on my hands and down my fucking throat.
My entire shite life had prepared me for this moment. It gave me all the fucking hard-earned skills I needed to hunt him down and end him. It taught me to embrace the pain instead of succumbing to it.
All the horror of my life was worth it if it meant I’d get my heart back.
Bea
I couldn’t wake up.
For what seemed like hours, oppressive darkness weighed down my lids, pressing on my entire body like I was encased in a concrete grave, buried alive. I tried to fight the sinking, terrifying sensation, but there was no give in the blackness. I could only lie there wondering if this was death. Not the soft embrace of the Reaper the way I’d always believed, but a deep, dark hole you sink into and never return from.
Gradually, so gradually it seemed to take an eternity, sensation returned to my limbs. There was a tingle in my fingertips that felt like an itch. I wiggled my toes, finding them cold and stiff in my boots.
With wakefulness came pain.
Pain as I remembered Cleo fighting for her life in the hospital.
Dead Man Walking (The Fallen Men, #6) Page 37
