Kimberly shifted uneasily under my hand. My gaze swiveled back to hers, pinning her in place with no more than the force of my stare.
“She took something of mine. I want it back.”
“Easy, lady,” said the other man—Z—who’d eased himself behind the first, watching me with the wary eye of one who is certain he’s dealing with a crazy person. Aside from the glowing eyes and the claws tipping his fingers, he could have passed for your average, everyday lumberjack. “We won’t let her go anywhere. Put the weapon down, back away from the girl, and tell us what’s going on.”
I considered my options. What are the odds I can take these three down before Kimberly gets away?
‘Slim to none. You’re not armored and that one can partial shift. Usually only alphas can do that.’
I know, I thought, searching Kimberly’s face. But what does that matter when I’ve got you? What does it mean?
‘It means you’ve got at least one powerful dominant on your hands. If one of them manages to fully shift—and considering there’s three of them, that’s a high probability—you wouldn’t make it out alive.’
Hell. Any other suggestions?
‘Play nice. For now.’
Slowly, and with great deliberation, I loosened my grip on Kimberly’s hoodie and stepped back. I kept the stake on her cheek as long as possible, leaving behind an ugly blister that she was quick to rub as soon as there was a little distance between us.
I wasn’t stupid enough to put the weapon away, though the Moonwalkers were eyeing it like I was holding a poisonous snake that might lash out and bite them at any moment. Lowering the stake, I took my eyes off Kimberly to see where the Moonwalkers wanted us to go.
It gave Kimberly an opening to run. Damn it. She was on her feet in a flash, zipping over the benches and down the path like a shadow. One of the Moonwalkers—the girl, Isabelle—went after her. I felt an arm on my shoulder as soon as I turned to give chase.
“Don’t—” he started.
My stake flashed up, scraping along his arm, leaving behind the sizzle of burned skin, but no blood, as he whipped away too quickly for me to do much damage. Fangs sprouted as he snarled at me, the formerly reasonable facade vanishing. I scrambled back, putting some distance between us, but Z was coming around to flank me.
“You are one ballsy bitch,” the shirtless guy said, rubbing his arm. “What the fuck does Rohrik see in you?”
“She’s a hunter, you dumb shit,” said Z. Every time I moved to keep him from getting behind me, the other guy shifted, getting just a bit closer. Soon he’d be in arms’ reach. They’d done this before. Classic hunting tactic. “Why else would she be here with those? He’s probably thinking of recruiting her.”
“I’m not here for any of you,” I said, skittering to one side as Z made a move to reach for me. “I just want her.”
“Yeah? What’s the girl to you?”
“She’s a Sunstriker. She can tell me where to find her pack leader.”
Shirtless sidled closer, moving into a crouch. He was going to spring at me any moment. “What’s the big deal? Why do you want to see Chaz?”
“Payback,” I replied, wiggling the stake in my hand for emphasis.
That brought him up short—but Z took advantage of my divided attention and wrapped his fingers around my wrist, his thumb digging into my tendons until I had to let go of the weapon. It fell with a dull clang to the hard-packed dirt. I wasn’t worried, since the runes branded into the belt would summon it back to its holster as soon as I moved a few yards away from where it landed.
The belt finally decided to chip in, though I could feel its reluctance. Why the hell it didn’t want to participate in this fight was beyond me, but it wasn’t about to let me be taken by the Moonwalkers. I kicked at Z’s instep, but he shifted his foot. Clever. Not clever enough to avoid the sucker punch to his ribs, though.
His grip loosened just enough for me to pull away. Shirtless was closing in, but I didn’t bother to engage. With a move that made my back and calves burn from strain, I slid under his outstretched arm—grabbing whatever it was that Kimberly had dropped, still shining merrily amidst the dirt and leaves—and pushed myself upright so I could launch my body over the benches and back onto the path.
I didn’t look back until I reached Fifth and Fifty-Ninth. The Weres apparently didn’t give chase, for which I was thankful. Didn’t mean it was time to slow down. Though I’d lost my shot at interrogating Kimberly properly, and surely had made some new enemies out of the Moonwalkers, it helped to know that Chaz couldn’t have gone too far, as he wouldn’t have let his piece of ass wander beyond his reach. More than likely, he’d sent her out to play fetch on his behalf. It was a good sign, as I was positive that meant he was still somewhere in the Tri-State area.
Undoubtedly, that little fiasco back there would strain any future relations with Rohrik—but then, I strongly doubted I’d live long enough to have to explain myself to him. Though I grimaced at the prospect of having to apologize to Bo for leaving him in the lurch. No doubt he was back at the car waiting for me and wondering what the hell had happened.
Slowing to a jog, brushing absently at the leaves in my hair with my free hand, I looked down at the small piece of metal and plastic I’d scooped off the ground.
Kimberly had dropped a flash drive.
A dark, cat-that-ate-the-canary smile curved my lips. Maybe this night hadn’t been a complete waste after all.
Chapter 12
I tucked the USB drive in my jeans pocket, slowing my pace once I’d put a little distance between the park and myself. Facing Bo wasn’t going to be fun.
People were giving me odd looks, but I didn’t pay them much attention, brushing absently at the borrowed sweater as I walked, trying to get rid of some of the clinging dirt and brush. The brick-red fabric, which clashed with my hair even without the additions of flecks of blood and mud, was pretty hopelessly stained. Hopefully Bo wouldn’t be too pissed about that, on top of my leaving him behind.
“That look really does not become you, Ms. Waynest.”
I froze, every hair on my body standing at attention as terror—and something else, something I didn’t dare name—bolted down my spine. The bones in my neck creaked with tension as I slowly turned my head.
The vampire was leaning in the shadows of a recessed doorway only a few feet away, hands pocketed, one booted foot resting on the door.
He looked the same as always, dressed casually in a loose-fitting gray fisherman sweater and designer acid-washed jeans. No doubt that outfit cost more than my car. His black, shoulder-length hair swayed idly in the wind, obscuring what the darkness wasn’t already hiding of his swarthy features. All I could make out clearly were the sharp line of his jaw and the sardonic curve of his lips, etched in stark relief by the shadows.
Someone plowed into me, knocking me aside as he bustled by. It broke my paralysis, but the guy did no more than flip me off when I cursed at him for his carelessness. Royce laughed softly, drawing my attention back, and I inched out of the way of the foot traffic to get closer despite every instinct I had screaming at me to get away.
‘Kill it,’ the belt demanded, a surge of something very much like desire radiating from it.
No, I admonished, clenching my hands into fists at my sides so I wouldn’t succumb to the burning need to grab one of the stakes. He’ll kill me, Isaac. Stop. Now.