by Paige Tyler
The sun had been going down on a really long day, and he was looking forward to getting home—and Selena, who’d finally agreed to go to his place and get some rest after spending the night along with Lana and his other packmates’ significant others in the small dorm room of sorts in the admin building where the team could catch some shut-eye if they needed to—when his cell had rung. It had been Ruben, giving him this address on Sovereign Row, saying it was where the gang was making the spiked energy drink. According to the kid, the man who’d taken over and consolidated most of the local gangs would be there overseeing the movement of several truckloads of the stuff. Apparently, they were shipping it out of state.
Gage had offered Brooks half the team, but instead, he’d stuck with the four guys who’d been with him on this from the start. And Zane.
“Side door is open,” Zane’s calm voice murmured over the line. “We’re ready to go.”
Brooks had told Gage he needed Zane along to handle task force coordination. He’d said Zane wouldn’t be going in with the entry team, but that had been a lie. One Gage had almost certainly seen right through.
Zane had risked his life for Selena, and there was no way in hell Brooks was ever going to forget it. If that meant taking a risk on this raid and letting Zane take part, he’d do it in a second. That said, he’d put Zane with Ray’s team, figuring his friend wouldn’t be able to get himself into any trouble if he was stuck with the slower moving team of human cops.
Brooks nudged Connor. His eyes snapped open immediately, a light gold ring around the edges of his pupils.
“We go in five seconds,” Ray called out.
Brooks gave his packmates a nod, then led them around the trailer and onto the loading dock.
“Three…two…one…go!” Ray shouted.
The moment they were through the door, Brooks and his team spread out slightly as they moved toward the center of the building. The chemical smell was even worse inside the warehouse, making his eyes water. The scent of fentanyl was predominant, and Brooks wondered briefly if he and the others could get high from breathing in the fumes.
The mechanical noise coming from the endless miles of moving conveyor belts was unreal, too, and as they slipped deeper into the building, weaving around the belts, heavy equipment, and half-stacked pallets of Buzz energy drink, Brooks realized their greatest werewolf advantages—namely their senses of smell and hearing—were completely neutralized in there. They’d be forced to do this the old-fashioned way, depending on their training and instincts like every other cop in here.
He was surprised how uncomfortable he was at that thought. He hadn’t been forced to deal with a situation like this without access to his enhanced senses in a long time. Not since Gulfport in fact. And he didn’t like to think about how that had ended.
They were nearly to the middle of the warehouse before they saw a guy pushing a pallet of shrink-wrapped cans toward the locking dock. The gangbanger took one look at them and reached for the handgun shoved in the waistband of his pants. The moment he yanked it out, everything went crazy, as shooting and shouting immediately filled the cavernous space.
Connor took a round in the shoulder, but they got the gangbanger down and zip-tied without killing him. Then they were moving, Brooks calling out updates over the radio as he came to grips with the sheer scale of this drug operation. There were dozens of pallets loaded with the spiked energy drink, not counting what had already been loaded into the trucks outside. If they distributed the drink like they intended, the number of overdoses would be mind-boggling.
Random shots continued to ring out around the building. Based on those and the number of hostile contacts getting announced over the air, there had to be at least twenty or thirty gangbangers in there. That was a lot more than Brooks and the other members of the task force had expected. But there wasn’t anything they could do about that now.
He and his teammates kept moving through the warehouse, arresting those who made that an option, doing what was necessary in the other cases. It wasn’t a choice he preferred, but getting into long, drawn-out confrontations would only put other members of the task force at risk. Fortunately, more of the gangbangers gave up instead of fighting.
Brooks thought the raid would actually go down easier than he’d feared, but then he heard heavy weapon fire coming from the right, in the direction of Ray’s team and the side exit.
“Need backup on the east side of the warehouse,” Ray said calmly over the radio. “We’re pinned down by four men with automatic weapons.”
Brooks threw a quick look at Connor and Diego, who simply nodded and kept moving forward without him.
“On the way,” he called out over the radio. “Keep your heads down.”
Luckily, Brooks didn’t have to engage with any other gangbangers on the way. Mostly because there weren’t many left. He followed the sounds of heavy gunfire, the stench of chemicals getting worse as he ran past several large industrial kettles, each bigger than a car. This must be where they made the energy drink. The odor alone was enough to make him wonder why anyone would drink the crap. It smelled like scented battery acid. While the noise wasn’t as bad in this part of the building, he still wished someone would shut down the damn conveyor belts. The constant clank and rattle was digging right through his sensitive ears and giving him one hell of a headache.
Brooks liked to think his werewolf instincts led him directly to Ray, but that would probably be pushing it. The truth was that one second, he was running down an alley between two long rows of cardboard boxes, and the next, he saw Ray on one knee behind a heavy steel support column, facing a guy with an automatic rifle. The gangbanger was walking right toward Ray, keeping him pinned down with a hail of bullets.
“Dallas PD!” Brooks shouted, instinct and training forcing him to give a warning that he knew would be ignored. “Drop the weapon!”
The man spun, the cheap knockoff M4-style automatic rifle spraying the walls and ceiling with bullets as he tried to change his aim point and take Brooks out.
Brooks didn’t give him the chance.
He scanned the area to make sure it was clean but didn’t see anyone, even though Ray had said there had been four men with automatic weapons here earlier. He sniffed the air, hoping that would give him a clue, but the odor of fentanyl was so strong, he almost got dizzy from it. He kept going, approaching the downed suspect and kicking the rifle away as Ray moved to join him.
“Where are the other shooters?” Brooks asked as he dropped to a knee to see if the man he’d shot was still breathing.
A flash of movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he snapped his head around to see three men step out from the walkway between the boxes. Everything seemed to freeze as he recognized the big man in the middle of the group, even as his head tried to tell him what he was seeing couldn’t be right.
Ernesto.
Selena’s friend, the man who’d become like a brother to her after Geraldo had been murdered. What the hell was he doing here?
Before Brooks could even try to answer that question, Ernesto and the two men with him lifted their weapons and started shooting. Brooks whirled around as he got to his feet to return fire, knowing he was probably going to be hit at the same time but not caring.
Suddenly, a blur passed in front of him. Brooks had only a second to shout in warning as Ray went down, hit multiple times with a spray of bullets as he attempted to protect Brooks from the incoming rounds.
Brooks brought his weapon up, firing an entire thirty-round magazine at Ernesto and the other two gangbangers. They moved fast for humans, diving to the side and slipping away down a corridor between the conveyor belts. He knew he should chase them, but he couldn’t. Ray had been hit. There was no way Brooks was going to leave him.
Shit, it was bad. Blood leaked through a hole in the center of Ray’s tactical vest, right where a bullet had punched through it. More poured from an abdomen wound, well below the bottom of the vest. There
was another wound in Ray’s left thigh, but that was minor compared to the other two.
“Officer down!” Brooks shouted into the radio as he kneeled by his old friend. “I need EMS support ASAP to the east side door, two hundred feet inside the building.”
He didn’t hear anymore shooting in the building, which was a good thing. Someone had finally turned off the conveyor belt, too.
There was a clang as someone shoved the nearby door open. Brooks knew it was Ernesto and the other gangbangers getting away, but he ignored them as he ripped Ray’s tactical vest off, exhaling a little when he saw the bullet hole to the right side of the sternum. The round had clearly missed the heart, but it had sliced through Ray’s right lung, and the bleeding was severe. He quickly rolled Ray to that side, so his left lung would stay clear of blood. At the same time, he pressed a firm hand to the wound on Ray’s abdomen.
Ray let out a hiss of pain, his eyes starting to glaze over. “You should go after them,” he said weakly. “They’re getting away.”
“We’ll get them later,” Brooks said.
Ray opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but Trey and Zane showed up. Zane stood there, a devastated look on his face, while Trey immediately went into his medic role, checking Ray’s pulse and calling to alert EMS for a severe chest wound.
“Two fucking weeks,” Ray whispered, his voice getting weaker as one of his lungs began to fill with blood. “I haven’t even sent in my paperwork yet. Was gonna do that tomorrow. Can you believe that shit?”
“Stop worrying about that.” Brooks swallowed hard. “You’re going to make it through this. You’re too damn tough to die. Besides, didn’t you hear that Curtis is a criminal piece of shit who’s currently being hunted by half the law enforcement agencies in this country? You don’t even need to retire now. You can keep working until you’re a hundred. You just have to hang on.”
Tears stung Brooks’s eyes. Shit. He was saying some of the same stuff Jack had said to him all those years ago when Brooks had been the one lying on the ground dying at that high school.
“I just wanted to always do the right thing,” Ray said, the words so soft, Brooks had to lean over to hear them. “I guess in the end I did that. I saved your life.”
Brooks had to fight not to let out a howl, not having the heart to tell Ray that his life had never been at risk.
Ray’s eyes started to slip closed, and Brooks felt a moment of panic. Then he heard his friend’s heart continuing to beat, and he relaxed a little. Ray was still holding on.
By the time the paramedics came in with the gurney a few seconds later, Ray was completely unconscious. Trey nodded at Brooks as if to reassure him the old guy was going to make it. Brooks wasn’t so sure, but he nodded in return, then followed the paramedics so he could ride with them to the hospital.
He needed to be there with Ray.
Just in case.
* * *
“I can’t believe the chief of police tried to kill you,” Ruben said as he used a broom to sweep up another pile of glass. “And at a frigging wedding! How fucked up is that?”
“Language,” Selena murmured, not looking away from the poster she was repositioning on the wall. When it was straight, she shoved a few tacks into the corners to keep it there. Once done, she looked around, sighing at all the work left to do.
The windows had been replaced, the bullet holes in the wall patched, and the blood cleaned up, but that was it. Broken glass was still scattered everywhere, the chair/desk combos pushed against one wall, the literacy posters either lying on the floor or torn apart. What a mess. If Eva hadn’t called earlier to confirm everything was set for classes to restart tomorrow, Selena would have thought the room needed another week of work. But she guessed they expected her to do most of the cleanup. Shocking—not.
She hadn’t been sure if she was ready to come back, especially after the way she’d lost it last night. But after waking up in Jayden’s bed after a solid seven hours sleep, she realized her kids needed her. It was time to get back to her job, her passion.
Fortunately, she had Ruben there to help her clean up, even though she still had no idea how he’d known she’d be here. But within minutes of her getting to the school, he’d shown up at the door, holding the key to the janitor’s closet and asking what she needed him to do. She supposed it was his way of repaying her for saving his life. She was just glad to see he was out of the hospital.
“Were you scared?” Ruben asked suddenly, and she glanced over to see him regarding her curiously. “When those men were shooting at you at the SWAT compound, I mean.”
Selena’s thoughts drifted back to last night’s events. The evening had started out almost magical. Dancing, laughing, meeting all the other werewolves, and coming to realize how many others like her were out there. But then the shooting had started, and everything had gone insane.
“I was scared,” she admitted slowly. “But not for myself.”
“Officer Brooks?” Ruben asked, his knowing expression somewhat out of place on his otherwise youthful face. “You were worried about him getting hurt?”
She smiled, hearing someone call Jayden that. He wasn’t Officer Brooks to her. He was simply Jayden. Ruben was right, though. She’d been worried about him getting hurt. Actually, that was an understatement. When Jayden had been shot, she’d nearly lost her mind to the degree that she had a hard time remembering the details of what had happened right afterward. The only thing she remembered clearly was Jayden running out of the reception tent and trying to follow him. Zane had slowed her for a few moments, until her fear had pushed her shift to the point that nobody, not even another werewolf, could slow her down as she’d raced out of the tent after the man who was more important to her than anything else in the world.
“I know he’s a cop. And that he’s strong and really good at his job,” she said. “But knowing that doesn’t make me worry any less about him. The idea of him getting hurt…” She shook her head. “It’s hard to even think about.”
“Are you two going to get married?” Ruben asked, not looking up from the pile of glass he was scooping up and dumping into a metal trash can.
Selena laughed. Leave it to a kid like Ruben to dismiss the silly stuff about having only known Jayden for a week, or how you shouldn’t rush into any important decision, or how true love takes time. He knew how much she cared about Jayden and wondered aloud when the wedding might be.
“Maybe,” she admitted. “We haven’t actually discussed it, but I really like him, and I think he likes me just as much. I can see us being together.”
Ruben smiled. “That’s cool.”
Then he went back to sweeping up glass, like everything she’d just said was obvious. In some ways, maybe it was.
“What about you and Marguerite?” Selena asked as she moved over and pulled a chair/desk out of the pile along the wall and slid it across the floor that Ruben had already cleaned. “What’s going on with you two?”
He laughed. “I don’t think we’re ready to get married yet. I mean, we haven’t gone on our first date yet.”
Selena made a face. “Very funny. I meant when you guys are going out and where you’re going.”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I’m not too sure. She got in trouble when her mom and dad found out she’d been at a party at a gang hangout. Her parents also know I OD’d there, so I don’t think they’re going to be down with us going out together.”
It was Selena’s turn to shrug. “That simply means you need to win over her parents.”
“Yeah, but how do I do that?”
Selena grabbed another chair/desk combo and slid it across the floor. “Find out what kind of food her parents like, get a big bag of takeout, then put on the nicest clothes you own and show up at their door on a Friday night. Have your first date with Marguerite and her parents. And if you have to, do the same thing every week until her parents realize they can trust you to be around their daughter.”
He winced. “T
hat could get really expensive.”
“Getting the girl you want takes work,” Selena said. “Which in this case means you might have to get a J-O-B. Trust me, if Marguerite is the right girl for you, it will be worth it.”
They were still talking about how he’d know if Marguerite was the right girl for him when Selena heard footsteps by the door. She looked over to see Ernesto standing there, a tired smile on his face. The two men with him appeared just as haggard. Selena had never seen either of them before, but the way they stood in the hallway, looking left and right like they expected someone to jump them at any moment, was kind of weird. Selena felt a twinge of worry. Was Ernesto in danger? But that was crazy. He was a businessman now, not a gangbanger.
“You’d better listen to her, kid,” he said as he walked into the room. “This is one teacher who knows what the hell she’s talking about when it comes to appreciating true love when you get a shot at it.”
Selena laughed and crossed the room to hug Ernesto. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but what are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.” He pulled away and glanced at Ruben. “In private.”
That request for privacy, not to mention the tension coming off Ernesto in waves, made her inner wolf suddenly wary. The feeling only got stronger when she saw the concerned look on Ruben’s face. Something wasn’t right. But Ernesto was her friend. She was going to trust that fact over some strange werewolf instincts she didn’t understand yet.
She smiled at Ruben. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? First thing in the morning, so don’t even think of sleeping in. And thanks for the help cleaning up.”
Ruben stared at her for a long moment before darting a quick look at Ernesto with what could only be called suspicion in his dark eyes. But then he nodded and gave her a weak smile.
“Okay. See you tomorrow, Ms. Rosa.”
