Still holding her knife, Dee caught hold of the ledge while Malone scrambled back over the man’s body and onto the roof. The man spilled forward and went sailing—but he still had a death grip on Dee’s other wrist. She screamed when the weight of the big bastard nearly tore her arm out of its socket.
Malone snatched the knife from Dee and reached over, sawing at the man’s hand until she’d cut through flesh, muscle, sinew, and bone. His body dropped and Malone reached for her, but as she lowered her body to get a good grip on Dee’s waist, Dee saw another man behind the feline, his gun raised. One of Malone’s team was near, but she’d never reach the man before he got a shot off. With her right arm unusable at the moment since it wasn’t in its socket, and the other the only thing holding her onto the ledge, Dee did the one thing she could think of. She grabbed Malone around the back of her neck with her fangs and yanked her off the ledge like a momma-wolf would her cub.
Roaring, Malone dangled from Dee’s mouth, unaware of the gunshots that had nearly blown the back of her head off.
Malone slapped one of those big tiger claws against Dee’s throat and was seconds from ripping in and down when big bear arms reached over and caught hold of them both. With a good pull, he dragged both She-predators back over the ledge and then got between them when the fists began to fly.
“Aren’t you both too old for this?” he asked as only a twenty-something male could stupidly ask two fighting females sliding down the dark edge of thirty-five.
“Ow!” he yelped. “What are you hitting me for?”
Dez MacDermot put her gun away and caught hold of the man Dee-Ann had told her was probably the one in charge.
She yanked him up and into a chair and handcuffed him to it.
“I want a lawyer,” he said and Dez could only laugh at him.
“Oh, baby. Don’t you realize you’re past lawyers?” She let out a sigh. “I’ve had to adjust a lot of my beliefs in order to do this job, but it’s the price I pay to take care of those I love. Now it’s the price you’ll pay.”
“You trying to scare me, cop? You trying to convince me you’re gonna actually do something to me?”
“Me? Probably not. I don’t have the stomach for that. But my partners do.”
Dez walked to the door and opened it, letting in the woman Dee had asked for help. A woman Dez loathed—and to be honest, feared. But Dez was beginning to realize more and more that they were all in this together. Yes, even with the hyena whose Clan had once tried to kill her.
“I’d like to introduce you to Gina Brutale.” Dez motioned to the giggling females behind her. “These are her cousins. At least . . . some of them. Now, you can tell me what I want to know or I can let Gina have some fun.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?” He looked Gina over. She was her usual big-haired, gum-popping self in too-tight designer clothes, so he didn’t seem too impressed. But Dez had learned the day Mace Llewellyn walked back into her life never to let someone’s looks fool her.
“It should,” Dez told him honestly. “And if it doesn’t, it will.” She stepped back and let Gina walk up to him. She kneeled in front of him, between his spread legs.
“Hi. I’m Gina. I’m here to hurt you until you tell the cop what she wants to know. I’m not here because I owe anybody anything or because I am doing this for high moral reasons. To be honest, I could give a shit what happens to hybrids. But I will do this . . . for fun.” She laid her hands on his thighs and leaned in, sniffing him like a good meal. “I like to have fun. My Clan calls me the fun-time girl.”
She moved in closer, brushing her head against his chin. “Let me show you how much fun I can be.”
When it started, Dez focused on the floor. Too bad she couldn’t block out the screaming.
“Are you sure?” Cella asked the leopard she’d handpicked for this gig tonight. “I mean really really sure.”
“I’m sure. Barb is sure. We all saw it.”
“Great.” Letting out a sigh, Cella walked over to Smith. She was pressed up against one of the trucks, the young grizzly trying to find the right way to put her arm back in its socket.
Unable to watch a second more of the bear fumbling along, Cella pushed him aside and took Smith’s arm.
“The team told me,” she said, feeling around Smith’s shoulder, “you saved my ass back there.”
Wincing from the pain, Smith said, “You saved mine.”
“Yeah, but I’m better than you.”
The She-wolf grinned. “Is that what your lord god Satan tells you during your feline rituals?”
Cella sneered, but forced herself to say, “Anyway . . . thank you.”
“Same here.”
“Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll—goddamnitmotherfuckerbastardgoddamnit!”
Cella grinned. “Now . . . that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Bitch.”
“Whore.”
The door to the warehouse opened and MacDermot walked out.
“Well?” Smith asked.
MacDermot held up a slip of paper. “Names. Two. I have addresses and—”
“Let’s hit ’em tonight,” Cella suggested, taking the paper from the full-human. “It’s not even eleven yet.”
“Or we could get back to it tomorrow,” MacDermot tried.
“Or we can get it done tonight.” Cella motioned to Smith. “She’s up for it.”
“She’s a machine,” MacDermot countered. “Besides, I’m sure these people will be there tomorrow.”
“Tonight,” Cella pushed, not wanting to take the chance. “We do this tonight. Just the three of us, and we’ll be done in no time.”
“All right. But first we’re getting coffee from that diner we passed.” MacDermot went off to release her team and Cella faced Smith. She was still rubbing her shoulder. “You are up for this, right?”
“I’m a machine.”
“I’m sure MacDermot didn’t mean that literally.”
“Thanks.” Smith held her hand out and Cella put the paper with the names on it in her palm.
“Anyone you know?”
“Nope.”
“Good. Makes it a little easier when they’re not friends.” Cella motioned to the warehouse. “Do you want me to call in a cleanup team for this?”
“Nah. Brutale’s Clan will take care of it.”
Cella shook her head and walked around the truck to the driver’s door. “Hyenas. They’ll just eat anything won’t they?”
“That’s what’s great about them.”
CHAPTER 17
Ric woke up at his desk. He’d come home from the restaurant and had dived right back into the books Uncle Van had sent him. He continued to check and double-check numbers but he knew it was a waste, and he was only putting off the inevitable call to his cousin, but he was desperate. Hoping to find anything that could turn this around.
Packing up all the paperwork, he put it in his standing safe. Yawning and scratching his head, he headed to his bedroom but stopped outside the guest room. He sniffed the door before easing it open. He didn’t know when she’d come in, but he was glad to see her back and safe, even if she wasn’t in his bed.
Knowing Dee, she probably assumed it was rude to get into his bed without receiving a direct invitation. He’d have to let her know she had a standing invite from now until forever.
Gazing at her stretched out facedown and naked on the bed, he could easily see what she’d been through that night. Bruises and cuts littered her body, the worst bruising on her shoulder. All those angry reds, purples, and blacks against pale white skin suggested that particular area had been through hell and back.