by C. I. Black
“No. You need to go around back and cut off any possible exits.”
“You can’t go in alone.”
“I’m not. My team will be here in a minute. We’re just checking the door and getting eyes on Boyd again.”
Yeah, how much did he believe that?
“Unless you think you can’t follow that order?” she asked. “It’s going to be difficult enough explaining why I have an Elmsville detective assisting on a federal case.” That sense of feralness glowed from her pale eyes. Even with the pain, she was determined to follow through. She was more than just a petite strawberry blonde in a pantsuit. She was stronger than her diminutive package suggested, and he’d be a fool to stand in the way.
The air around her rippled, and a security door flew open behind her. Gunfire exploded. He ground his teeth. Focus. Pull it together.
Her eyes narrowed. “Can you follow orders?”
He nodded. Another explosion rattled through him. Capri didn’t react. It wasn’t real. It. Wasn’t. Real. “Let’s do this.”
She slipped around the front of the buses, her gun held ready, and rushed across the parking lot toward the door.
Ryan sucked in a quick breath and followed, running through the imaginary security door. He angled to the side of the real building, slowing as Capri reached the small entrance. She met his gaze and tried the door. It opened a fraction, and she froze. With a jerk of her chin, she told him to secure the back. She’d probably only give him a few seconds before sneaking in.
He forced himself to turn away and creep along the side of the garage to the back. Yep, covering the back was important, but so was covering your partner. She’d already been distracted in The Mansion’s back hall. Whatever was wrong hadn’t been fixed.
Sure enough, there was a back door. Ryan eased up beside it. A cloud scuttled over the moon, enveloping him in darkness. Something glimmered from under the edge of the door. There was definitely a light on inside, but that didn’t mean there was someone there.
“We’ve got to get moving,” a harsh voice said on the other side of the door.
Ryan froze, holding his breath and listening. Maybe Capri had seen blood on the door.
“Eddie needs a doctor,” another voice said. This one sounded young, maybe a teen.
“I’m fine,” another voice growled. That had to be Boyd.
There were at least three men in there. Cold seeped into Ryan’s coat, biting his cheeks and neck. He resisted the urge to call Capri’s cell and warn her. If he did, the guys in the garage might hear it, and he’d heard no indication that backup had arrived.
Besides, as much as Capri didn’t look like she was at the top of her game right now, he had to trust she knew how to do her job. She wasn’t some rookie he’d been assigned to train. She was an FBI agent. Except that was all he really knew about her. He had no idea how long she’d been on the job, or even what her team did.
“We have to get moving. The snakes are on my trail,” Boyd said.
“You brought the snakes here?” Young Guy’s voice jumped an octave.
“What the hell made you think to bring the snakes here?” Harsh Voice asked.
“They shot me. I wasn’t thinking,” Boyd said.
“Fucking moron,” Harsh growled.
Something whooshed on the other side of the door.
“What the hell?” Harsh yelled. “Snakes.”
“Not just any snake. Death,” a slick new tenor said.
Someone screamed. Something clattered to the floor, and two shots exploded. Something else boomed. It sounded like it was on the far side of the garage.
“Son of a—” That was Capri.
Another burst of gunfire.
Ryan yanked on the back door. It wouldn’t open.
More gunfire.
Shit shit shit. He had to get in there. Had to know what was going on. This could be his future flash coming true.
He kicked at the door. It still didn’t budge.
Another scream. High pitched. He couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman.
He kicked the door again. Come on. Come on. He wrenched back to kick again, and the door flew open. Boyd stood in the opening, one hand pressing a rag to his shoulder, his eyes wide.
Ryan yanked his gun up. “Freeze.”
Faster than Ryan thought possible, Boyd leapt forward, knocked Ryan’s gun aside, and shoved past him.
Ryan staggered back. His foot hit ice and swept out, slamming him to one knee. Someone inside the garage screamed again. Inside, the man he and Capri had hid from, back at Andy’s house, pounded his fists into a large man’s gut. A small man on the ground scrambled away, while four more men rushed toward Ryan and the door.
Capri raced after them from the other side of the room, her eyes narrowed with pain. “Stop,” she yelled. One man stopped, his expression stunned. The other three stormed toward Ryan.
He fired, hitting one man in the leg, dropping him to his knees. The other two barreled past, the first man seizing the front of Ryan’s jacket and tossing him against the side of the garage.
He slammed into it with so much force the air burst from his lungs, and his head snapped back. Pain raced across his chest and skull, and his knees buckled. He struggled to catch his breath, breathe past the agony.
The man from Andy’s house zip-tied his unconscious suspect to a pipe then raced to the back door. He was on the far side of the garage one second and then beside Ryan the next, glaring at him. Ryan tensed, gun raised.
“He’s with us,” Capri said, but Ryan couldn’t tell if it was directed at him or the man.
She grabbed the man Ryan had shot, yanked him over to the back door, and zip-tied him to the handle. “Funny seeing you here, Diablo.”
The man, Diablo, snorted. “Didn’t think you’d need help.” His gaze jumped to where the other men had fled. “When were you going to tell me you had a line on their den?”
“When I had them in custody. Now do you mind? They’re getting away.”
“Give it a moment.” Diablo’s eyes grew unfocused and he rolled his shoulders as if trying to relax. “Two went to the left, one to the right.”
Headlights flashed across the garage from the front door.
“Looks like your backup is here. I’ll start with the single then go after the double.”
“Not if I catch them first. Miller, stay here.” She bolted to the left, along a path between the shattered carcasses of cars.
“Hell, no.” He raced after her.
“I said, stay with the perps.”
“They’re secure, your team has them, and I’m not leaving you without backup.” There were two of them, one of her, and she still looked like she was in pain.
“I said, stay with the perps,” she growled, still running along the path.
“And I said, no.”
She wrenched toward him, radiating that feral monster again, making her seem bigger, more powerful than her tiny frame implied.
He squared his shoulders.
She hissed and flashed him a hard smile—he wasn’t even sure it was a smile.
“They’re getting away, Special Agent.”
Her expression darkened and turned sensual. Standing his ground against her turned her on. “What am I going to do with you, Detective?”
“I can think of a few things.” It turned him on, too.
She jerked to the path, gun ready, back on the hunt.
He followed. He had no idea what had just happened, but a part of him really liked it.
CHAPTER 27
They chased the men out of the trees onto the street of a new development. The road twisted down into a valley; half the lots were empty, the other half had houses in various stages of construction. Capri picked up her speed and Ryan pushed to match her, worry and excitement pounding through him. His breath puffed around him in white clouds that sparkled in the streetlights, but he stayed focused on the men.
The smaller of the two, a man with a torn jean jacket and a
wild blond beard, stumbled. The other, a broad-shouldered black man with a jagged scar running down the side of his face, didn’t hesitate. He careened to the right, into the shadows between two partially sided houses. The first man, Blond Beard, shoved up to his feet and headed left.
Ryan glanced at Capri. With a nod, she headed after Scar. That was all the communication they’d needed. No words. Again, he was struck with the sense that they’d been partners for years.
Blond Beard ducked up the driveway of a finished house and rushed into the shadows beside it. If he managed to get back into the woods behind the development, Ryan might not be able to find him.
Ryan put on a burst of speed. His chest burned from the cold air and effort. He raced into the fenced-in yard.
Blond Beard staggered to a stop before hitting the fence at the back.
Ryan trained his gun on him. “Hands where I can see them.”
The man spun around, hands up. He glared at Ryan.
“On your knees.”
The man pursed his lips, his gaze sliding over Ryan, then his lips curled back in a sneer. “You’re not a snake.”
Ryan widened his stance. “On your knees.”
“No.” The man leapt at him.
Ryan pulled the trigger. The shot shattered the quiet of the subdivision. Blond Beard gasped and pressed a hand to his chest, but continued to barrel forward. With his free hand, he slammed his palm against Ryan’s gun.
The weapon ripped from Ryan’s hand and smashed into the wall beside him. Flecks of brick shot into the air, stinging his face. The force was stronger than anything he’d ever experienced. How the hell was the man still moving? He’d shot him square in the chest.
Blond Beard grabbed for the front of Ryan’s jacket. He twisted out of the way, but the man snagged his shoulder and yanked, tossing him into the backyard.
He crashed into the packed snow. Cold bit his face and neck. His chest burned. So did his cheek. He couldn’t tell if the ice had sliced it open or not. He shoved up to his feet, but Blond Beard pounced, hammering a fist into Ryan’s chest.
More pain exploded within him. Something cracked. He’d never encountered someone so strong before, and would have never guessed the man would have that kind of strength, given his slight stature and the gunshot wound. He should be hurting more than Ryan.
Blond Beard swung at Ryan’s head. He ducked, sending spikes of pain shooting through his chest, and rammed his fist into the man’s kidney. It felt like hitting a brick wall. Blond Beard grunted, twisted, and wrenched Ryan’s arm up. His shoulder popped and pain sliced through it.
Ryan ground his teeth against the agony, fighting the darkness swarming the edge of his vision. He clawed at Blond Beard’s hands, but couldn’t break his grip.
Cold air swept over him with a whoosh. The man growled, wrapped an arm across Ryan’s neck, and spun around.
The dark-haired man from Andy’s house, Diablo, stood on the edge of the patio, his sidearm in his hand, hanging at his side. Ryan couldn’t figure out how Diablo had gotten into the yard so fast. He’d gone in the opposite direction at the wrecker’s yard.
“I’ll kill him, snake.”
Diablo shrugged. “Go ahead.”
“Gee, thanks,” Ryan gasped.
The man tightened his arm around Ryan’s neck.
Ryan tensed to ram his elbow into the man’s gut. Diablo jerked his gun up and fired.
The man’s head snapped back and his grip on Ryan loosened. Ryan leapt away. The man staggered, but didn’t drop. Instead, he straightened and ran his thumb over a red welt on his forehead.
“Want to try again, snake?” he said. “Your bullets don’t bother me.”
Ryan’s brain stuttered. What the hell?
Diablo snorted. “I can think of other things that will hurt.”
The air around Ryan gusted, blowing up snow from the ground, and Diablo vanished. With a whoosh, he reappeared in front of the man. Diablo seized the man’s coat, and with another whoosh, they both disappeared.
Ryan pressed a hand to his side and stared at the spot where they’d just been. Every breath was agony, but every thought hurt more. He couldn’t figure out what had just happened. He must have blacked out or something… twice. People didn’t just disappear. That wasn’t possible.
* * *
One of the Clean Team’s many SUVs pulled to the curb beside Capri, and Swipe stormed out. “I thought I said to get rid of the human.”
Capri yanked the mage to his feet and pushed him toward the vehicle. “I took your suggestion into consideration.”
“So why is he still around?”
She shoved the mage into the back seat and wrenched around to face Swipe. “Because I have uses for the human, and I’m still the team leader. You want the job, take it from me.”
Swipe hissed and leapt at her. She shot him in the gut. He staggered, and she grabbed the front of his coat and slammed him beside the SUV’s open back door. The mage yelped but stayed in his seat.
“Still the leader.” She pressed her gun to Swipe’s heart. The shot wouldn’t kill him, but it would hurt a lot more than a gut-shot.
“What’s wrong with you?” Swipe growled, his eyes hard.
“I’ve got the human under control.”
“It doesn’t look like it to me.”
He was right. She didn’t have anything under control. But there was no way she was going to admit that. “Look closer.”
The air whooshed around them and Diablo gated in beside her. He raised a sculpted eyebrow in question.
Capri turned from Swipe to face Diablo. He was alone.
“Where is your mage?” And why was Diablo gating around like humans couldn’t notice him?
“I’ve got the mages contained.”
Swipe growled, stormed back to the driver’s side of the SUV, and got in. Diablo grabbed her arm and tugged her a few feet away, out of casual earshot. “You need to take care of your human.”
“Excuse me?” Just great. Everyone had seen Miller and everyone thought it was their business to tell her how to handle hers.
“He’s seen too much. Do your thing.” And by thing he meant wipe Miller’s mind.
“What did you do?” Damned cavalier drake, not caring who his lack of discretion hurt.
“The mage was bulletproof with enhanced strength. The most expedient solution was to gate him into confinement.”
“You gated in front of Mil—a human? I should report you.”
Diablo leaned close, but there was nothing sensual about the action. It was all menace. “I figured you’d rather wipe the human’s mind than go to his funeral.” Who was this drake? Diablo didn’t care if a human died. At least he never had before. “If you don’t want to take care of things, I’ll be forced to make his family pick out his coffin.”
Mother, no. She grabbed his jacket, and pressed her gun to his shoulder. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“The law is the law.” He leaned into her firearm, as if daring her to shoot. The shot would hurt, but again, the damned thing wouldn’t kill him—although she wasn’t sure how fast he healed. If she was lucky, the wound, and the accompanying agony, would last minutes instead of seconds.
“Do your job, or I’ll do mine,” he said.
Damned fucking Asar Nergal. She shoved him back and holstered her gun. “So you screw up, the humans pay, and I have to clean up the mess. Just great. It’s always the way.”
“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me who screwed up first. You have until dawn to deal with him.” He grabbed her arm and the disorienting twist of his rare, rapid, free-gating ability swept around her.
Blackness swallowed the street where she’d grabbed her mage. Her stomach heaved and the sense of the world tilting flooded her. Then the darkness receded. Her foot hit asphalt, her knees buckled, but she managed to keep standing. She now stood on a brightly lit suburban road. The streetlights shimmered in the snow and ice lying across postage-stamp sized lawns. Houses in various stages of co
nstruction lined the road.
Diablo pointed down the walk of a fully finished house. “Your human is back there.”
“He’s not my human.”
Diablo flashed a hint of teeth. “Of course he isn’t.”
With a whoosh, he gated away.
Capri followed the path to the back of the house, keeping her footsteps quiet, uncertain of what she was going to walk in on.
Ryan sat on a crate beside a pile of unlaid patio stones. He pressed his arm to his side as if it hurt to breathe and his expression kept sliding from confusion to disbelief to blank then stunned.
She wanted to roar, go back to Diablo, and rip his thoughtless head off. He didn’t care about anyone but himself. Humans were nothing to him, toys he discarded once they no longer suited him. If she could gate without an anchor, she’d return to the SUV and shoot him.
Except he wouldn’t be there anymore. He would have taken the mage and returned to the Dragon Court. The only one left at the SUV would be Swipe. And while she could shoot him to vent her frustration, that wouldn’t help the situation. Swipe had told her to lose Miller—whether his reasons were to protect Ryan or not was beside the point. If she’d just listened to Swipe, she wouldn’t be in this mess. Ryan wouldn’t be in this mess.
She stepped into the yard, purposefully crunching ice so he’d hear her.
His head shot up, his gaze searching the darkness. All confusion was gone. In its place was determination, wariness, surety. This was the man she admired. So much like Eric and yet so different. She could almost believe she’d mistaken the confusion for something else, something innocent. But that was fooling herself. Even if his mind didn’t break at the impossible, dragon law demanded she wipe his memories or kill him. The kindness was the memory wipe.
She subvocalized her power word. Lightning snapped through her head. She swallowed back a gasp. A thread of magic flickered to life then slipped away.
If she was going to do this right, she’d need time. Ryan had already resisted her compulsion. If she didn’t want to completely wipe his mind and turn him into a blathering idiot, she needed a place to relax and concentrate.
