Wicked Ride

by Rebecca Zanetti

Alexandra,

  I’m hoping you sleep the day away, but if not, you must eat. There are eggs, bacon, and fruit in the fridge. I have a lead on the witch and am tracking it down. You’re to stay here until I return.

  Thank you.

  Kellach

  She frowned and twirled the note around. It was an order. A very clear order for her to stay in place. Wow. The guy hadn’t figured her out a bit. Turning on her heel, she hurried back to the bedroom and changed into the borrowed clothes. The cashmere made her groan at the decadent comfort, which meant she had to figure out a way to pay him back for the clothes.

  Well, one thing at a time. Though she couldn’t find her ruined clothing since he’d probably thrown it away, she did find her gun and badge resting on the bathroom counter. Tucking the gun into her waist, she borrowed a toothbrush and hairbrush to make herself presentable.

  Without any makeup, she appeared too pale, and add in the bruises, she appeared to be a victim of a good beating or a disastrous car wreck. Either way, she didn’t look like a cop—which was unfortunate, considering it was time to visit her father and figure out what the hell was going on. He had a lot of explaining to do about keeping in contact with not only her mother but with Spike. Hell, maybe he even knew where Spike would hole up after shooting a cop.

  She called a cab from her cell phone and hustled down to the opulent lobby of the high-end apartment building. Having only entered through the garage, she hadn’t imagined the stunning marble fixtures or over-the-top crystal chandelier in the center.

  The doorman, a guy built like a linebacker, opened the door for her and asked if she’d like for him to call a cab.

  She admitted she’d called one all by her itty-bitty self and then ignored his shocked look. Apparently rich people were too busy or important to call for a cab. The guy still held an umbrella over her head while she walked down the wet steps toward her crappy cab, and she wondered if she was supposed to tip him. If so, he was outta luck, considering she didn’t have her purse. Or any money in it, anyway.

  Even so, she gave him her best smile and a genuine thank-you as she slid into the back of the cab.

  The doorman waited patiently.

  Damn it, she didn’t have a tip. She shrugged. “I left my purse in the car at a homicide scene.”

  His dark eyebrows rose. “I was waiting for the address, ma’am.”

  Holy crap. Rich people couldn’t even talk to a cabbie to give directions? She reached for the door to shut it. “I’ve got it, pal.”

  He stepped back and still gave a slight bow.

  Her gaze met the amused one of the cabbie as she gave the address for Bernie’s car at the scene. “I have my purse in the car and will catch you then.” She flashed her badge. “I promise.” Of course, she’d have to swipe her credit card and say a quick prayer that she had enough credit left for the ride.

  “Cop or hooker,” the cab driver snorted.

  Lex frowned and scooted closer to the divider. “Excuse me?”

  Unapologetic and almost wise eyes met her gaze. “Chicks who don’t belong leaving ritzy places like that are usually hookers. But since you got a badge, I guess cops hang there, too.”

  Heat climbed into her face.

  She fought the urge to yank on the cabbie’s long gray ponytail. “You’re opinionated.”

  He nodded. “The guy you stay with do that to your face?”

  “No. The guy who shot my partner last night did this to my face.” Lex rubbed the still pounding bruise at her temple. “You know anything about the firefight at Slam last night?”

  “Not personally.” The cabbie took a sharp left turn and flipped off a Mercedes that tried to cut him off. “I heard on the news, though. Sorry your partner got shot.”

  Lex nodded. “Thanks. You heard anything about a new drug on the streets called Apollo?”

  “Nope. I stay away from drugs.” He pounded his chest. “Work out regular and don’t even drink diet colas. That shit will kill you faster than most of the illegal street drugs out there today. Bad stuff.”

  “Hmm.” Lex sat back and thought through the night before until they arrived at Bernie’s car. In the daytime, with the rain still pattering down, the scene appeared like any bad street in any bad town. Police tape covered the door of the bar, but other than that, there was no sign that all hell had descended the night before.

  She shoved out of the cab, opened Bernie’s car door and squared up with the driver. She was on her way south before she could think of a reason not to visit the penitentiary.

  Ten years. It had been ten years since she’d seen her father, and she’d gone then only because her mother had begged her to see him on his fortieth birthday. He’d been apologetic, she’d been pissy, and the visit had not gone well.

  He wanted to see her and claimed to have information about her case. Why he reached out after so much time was beyond her. She settled into the drive that would take two hours.

  About halfway there, her phone buzzed.

  “Monzelle,” she answered, not looking to see the caller.

  “Where the hell are you, mate?” a somewhat pissed off Kell asked.

  She flipped on her blinker and switched lanes, spraying water. “Working. Why?”

  “I believe I asked you to stay here until we could chat.”

  She snorted. “You ordered me to stay there. You’re crazy if you think I’d obey and just sit on my ass when my partner was shot last night.”

  Silence reigned for several beats. “Not for a second did I think you’d sit on your very sweet ass, but I do expect you to be safe and to work with me. Now get back here.”

  Interesting. The possessive and bossy tone was new. Great sex seemed to make Kellach turn into a throwback.

  “No.”

  He exhaled in a sound of pure male frustration. “Alexandra.”

  “Listen, Kell.” She didn’t have time to deal with a witch apparently caught in the last century, yet she owed him for last night, so she tried to hold on to her temper. “You took good care of me last night. I was down, so I appreciate it.”

  “Get back here, and I’ll take even better care of you.”

  The sexy tone zinged through ears, down her chest, and ricocheted to her core. “I have work to do.”

  “Take me with you.”

  She chuckled and switched lanes behind a slow moving television satellite truck. “Right. You may be undercover, but right now, you’re a suspect of my department. We can’t be seen together until you make yourself known to my superiors.”

  “I can’t do that,” he snapped.

  “So back off and let me do my job.”

  “Back off?” His voice softened. “That’s not how this is going down, Alexandra.”

  Another damn truck was in her way. She honked and jerked to the side to pass the idiot. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I don’t work for you.”

  “No, you’re my mate. As such, we have a couple things to get straight.”

  Her head lifted. “Like what?” she asked, her temper really wanting to make an appearance.

  “Things are heating up, and the fact that you’re my mate will be known soon. In fact, when you grappled with the witch last night, he probably sensed the change. Thus, you’re in more danger than usual, especially since the darts will really hurt you.”

  “I’m a cop. Danger is normal, and the darts are dangerous for everybody, even humans.” She pressed down on the accelerator. Finally.

  Something banged hard across the line. “You’re rich now and don’t need to work.”

  Oh, he did not. “Unless I won the lottery and nobody told me, I’m not wealthy.” Man, the guy had hidden this side of himself pretty well.

  “This is a discussion to have in person. What time can you be here?” His tone hinted at command and impatience, and pretty much pissed her off.

  “I’ll be there when I damn well get there.” She clicked a button and ended the call. Just who exactly did he think he was? For t
he life of Pete, she was a cop, and she had a gun. One she’d shove up his ass if he didn’t knock it off.

  She fumed the rest of the drive, finally reaching the correctional facility where she took the necessary steps to go through security. Giving up her gun didn’t feel right, yet she understood the precaution since she was there as a visitor and not on business. Sure, she could’ve argued to keep her gun, but the chance remained that she’d shoot her father.

  Keys jangled from the belt of a heavy-set guard who guided her through the maze and down several concrete hallways. Lex dragged her heels, her gaze straight ahead, her shoulders back. Even so, her stomach gurgled.

  She sat on a curved yellow chair secured to the floor. In deference to her position, the warden had allowed her in a private room and not in the lineup with glass walls.

  Thank God she hadn’t brought Tori to such a place. Even the thought of Tori’s vibrancy and energy being sucked away by so much gray and the stench of evil seized Lex’s lungs.

  The chill swept through her, deeper than her skin, and she shivered.

  Footsteps plodded toward her, getting louder. A guard escorted her father in and secured the chain between his hands to a ring in the table.

  “Alex,” her father said.

  Nobody had called her Alex since her early teenaged years. She sat back and studied him. He’d aged, his dark hair turning gray, his smooth skin heavy with wrinkles. Once vibrant green eyes had faded, and harsh lines cut out from the sides of his mouth. “What do you want?” she asked.

  He leaned forward, and the chains clanked. “How is your mother?”

  She glanced at the clock on her phone, pleased when her hand didn’t shake. “You have one minute to tell me why I’m here, and then I’m gone. Spill it.”

  He sighed. “Alexandra, please take a moment and talk to me. I haven’t seen you in ten years.”

  “So while you’re looking, talk.” She kept her expression stoic.

  His gaze raked her bruised and battered face. “Who did this to you?”

  She sneered. “Why? Remind you of how you treated my mother?” Yeah, she remembered how horribly he’d treated her, acting like she was stupid. After a while, Jennie had seemed to believe him. It had taken years for her to regain her confidence.

  Her father blanched. “I never once raised a hand to your mom.”

  “No, but you might as well have. The way you belittled her and put her down.”

  He sighed. “I’ve changed. I really have.”

  “Men who kill, sell drugs, and belittle their wives don’t change.” Lex shoved her chair back from the table. “Your time is up.”

  That quickly, her father dropped the concerned look, and calculation filtered through. “I’d hoped we could talk like rational people, but I can see you inherited your mother’s flare for drama over reason.”

  “Screw you, dickhead.” Lex stood.

  “Wait. I know about Apollo.”

  She paused and focused on her father. “What do you know?”

  His smile sent a chill down her back. “Oh, you need to sit for this.”

  “No.” She lifted her hand to wave for the guard.

  “Wait. I know about the mineral from Russia that gives Apollo its power, and I know about the new assembly lines making Apollo-filled darts. Think nail guns with deadly drugs shooting out. Man, will those cause hell on the Seattle streets.”

  Taking a deep breath, Lex slowly sat down. “I’m listening.”

  His upper lip curled in what could only be triumph. “Now that’s a nice change.”

  “Not for long. Speak or I’m out of here.” Nausea slid down her throat to coat her stomach. This guy was actually her father. “Who’s manufacturing Apollo?”

  “Oh, no.” Her father shook his head. “I don’t give you a name until I’m out of here. If you, a decorated cop, testify at my parole hearing next week, I’ll finally get out, and I’ll tell you everything. The name of the manufacturer, the location of the factories, and even the top distributors. I know everything—especially how they’re bringing the drug into the country.”

  Lex sat back and studied her father. His eyes remained clear and his manner truthful, but the guy was a killer and a drug dealer. He’d survived decades of prison, and surely he could tell a convincing lie.

  “How do you have that information?”

  He folded his hands together around the chains. “I still have friends on the outside, as well as on the inside. I hear things.”

  “Right. Where’s Spike?”

  Her father shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Bullshit.” She leaned toward him. “I think you do. You’re still a part of the drug trade.” How in the hell had she missed that? He’d been a key distributor years ago, and it made sense he’d stayed in the game. “If you’re working with whoever is manufacturing Apollo, I’ll make sure you never see the outside again.”

  “I’m not.” He met her gaze levelly. “I knew that finding out about this drug was my only way out of here, so I called in every marker I still had and found out the truth. Found out everything I could, which is enough to help you solve your case.”

  Made sense, but she trusted him as far as she could kick him, and that wasn’t far. He might have slimmed out, but he was still a big guy. “I think you’re full of shit, and you’re wasting my time.”

  “Trevan Demidov,” her father said, his eyes beadier than she’d remembered.

  “Who?”

  “That’s all you’re getting for now. A gesture of proof and goodwill.” He rattled his chains. “Guard? We’re done here. For now.”

  Lex stood. “Who is Demidov?”

  “Figure it out, Alex.”

  The guard entered and released the chains from the ring in the table, lifting her father to his feet. He shuffled toward the door, turning at the last minute, looking thin in his orange jumpsuit. “Say hi to my Jennie for me.” The guard shoved him out the door, and he disappeared.

  Lex took several deep breaths, her hands shaking. Okay. She could deal with this. Now she had to get back to the station and run Demidov before going to the hospital to check on Bernie and Masterson.

  And then? Then she had to deal with a fire throwing, dangerous, probably deadly witch who had a truly mistaken view of her as a mate. That one would probably require a weapons discharge.

  Chapter 25

  Kellach paced the office, his temper frayed and his control nearly shattered. Pictures of five faces cascaded across the screen—all witches who’d had the wherewithal to mine the mineral during the time in question. “Which one do you think?”

  Daire, the only other occupant of Simone’s home office, shrugged a massive shoulder. “I’m not sure it’s one of them, but all five have expressed dissatisfaction with the Coven Nine, and four have withdrawn from membership.”

  Three men and two women. “Martin Zanbus, Stan Newly, Grid Johes, Sylvia Pelut, and Tama Vichin.” None of them looked like much of a danger. “Are we sure these are the most likely enemies?”

  Daire nodded, kicking back in Simone’s desk chair. “Aye. They are the ones still alive who had access to the mines years ago. We lost so many in the last war that, unfortunately, it was rather easy to narrow down the results to these five witches.”

  Kell nodded and began pacing again. “We seek them out, then.”

  “Would you stop fucking pacing?” Daire growled. “Before we seek them out, we need to launch a full investigation into their past centuries. I’ve put our computer guys on it, and we should have results by tomorrow.”

  “I’m not pacing.” Kell continued to walk back and forth. “Besides witches, demons have had plenty of time to mine the mineral.”

  “I know.”

  “So we need a list of demons, too,” Kell growled.

  “What the hell is your problem?” Daire straightened up in a clear sign he was about to lunge.

  Kell pivoted, more than halfway ready to clash with his older brother and draw blood. “Nothing.”r />
  “Jesus. You’ve been mated less than a week, and she has you this tied up in knots?” Daire relaxed back in the chair and plopped his boots onto the antique desk. “Get your woman in order. I need your mind in this fight.”

  “Get my woman in order? How the fuck do you propose I do that?” Kell nearly spit fire at his brother.

  Daire shrugged. “I don’t give a shit. You’re an enforcer, she’s a human, get her under control.”

  Kell shook his head. “You outdated bastard. Times have changed, brother. One doesn’t just get a mate under control, especially when that mate is a cop, an enforcer of a sort for her own people.”

  “She’s fragile, and now, some of her enemies aren’t of her own species. This witch we’re hunting will kill her without a thought, just to get to you.” Daire twirled a letter opener around his fingers.

  “I’m aware of that fact.” Kell shook his head to regain some control. “Women can be warriors. Cousin Moira is an enforcer for the Nine, and she’s mated to a vampire.”

  Daire flipped the sharp edged opener into the air and caught it, keeping it twirling. “Moira is a witch whom we trained for a century. Even though she’s an enforcer, when was the last time she went out on a job without her soldier of a mate accompanying her?”

  “Never,” Kell acknowledged.

  “Right. Listen. You can’t do your job if you’re worried about your woman, so you need to find a way not to worry, because I fucking need you to do your job.” Daire slammed the opener into the desk, sharp edge first, leaving it standing up.

  “Simone is going to kill you,” Kell murmured.

  “I’ll tell her Adam did it.” Daire yanked the blade free. “Are we clear?”

  Kell shook his head. “Do you really think that when you finally mate, you’re going to close her down somewhere safe and away from your job?”

  “Of course.” Male arrogance lived naturally on Daire’s rugged face. “I’m not mating an enforcer or a cop or even a shifter. Fate finds us the perfect counterpart, and mine will be nurturing, like having kids, and won’t even consider drawing a weapon.”

  Kell snorted. “You’re a moron.” He hoped Daire fell in love with a feline shifter who worked as a soldier. Or maybe a bear shifter that could cut ribbons into his flesh with maniacal claws. “I can’t wait to see you mated.”